Through Time-Pursuit

by Conn, Claudy

  “I don’t see what is so funny,” returned Royce, twinkling at him.

  “Yes, you do, but never mind. Breslyn found me and gave news of Pestale. Apparently the devil has been playing games again with humans … in Conclaff near the Irish sea.”

  “What has he done?” Royce stepped out of Chance’s hold, her face drawn with concern.

  “He took four young girls—no more than seventeen years old. They were at a dance. He just walked in, and according to accounts from their friends, he said, “Come with me,” and they did. Off they went outside, and then I suppose he shifted them off to wherever he is hiding these days. Red … we must do something. Can you see him in your mind?” He reached out and handed her a piece of cloth. “Breslyn thought this might help. It seems before he left with them, he tore off the bodice of the gown one of the girls was wearing … and … well … here it is.”

  As soon as Royce took up the piece of organza and satin, she went reeling backwards. Chance caught her and held her as she swooned into her vision and lost herself in the scenario’s horrific onslaught.

  She saw Pestale clearly. He was big and darkly suave and deceptively attractive in a white silk shirt and black silk pants. He approached two girls standing near the band and ordered them to follow him—they did. He turned, saw two more, and stared hard at them as he whispered something she couldn’t hear.

  All four girls followed him outside to a parking lot full with cars. One of the girls came out of her trance and whimpered as she looked around fearfully. Pestale turned, sneered at her, and said, “Come over here, tart …”

  She complied, but he was angry because he could see her making a good attempt to resist his command. His hand sprang out, grabbed the top of her dress, and ripped it off. She gasped and started to back away.

  He told the other girls to hold her, and they obeyed.

  Calmly he walked up to the girl and said with a low hiss, “Perhaps I will dissect you and find out why it is you are able to resist my commands …”

  Royce cringed as she watched the past scene unfold. She could tell it had occurred only last night because she could see a billboard with the date outside the dancehall. Then the scene shifted, and he was in a large room whose design appeared to be medieval. Three of the girls were still alive and were spread out on the bed with him, taking turns pleasuring him. The fourth, the girl who had resisted, lay bloodied, used, and dead in a corner of the room …

  Royce took a quick look around the room. There was nothing modern about it. She moved to the door and managed to see past it. He was in a castle, perhaps from the 1500s, and its design was Scottish—she could see tartans hanging in the great hall.

  Scotland … somewhere in Scotland in the 1500s. He had crossed the time barrier, just as Queen Aaibhe had told them he would.

  She opened her eyes and found herself lying in Chance’s lap. He was sitting on a bench in his central hall. Trevor hovered nearby.

  “He took them to the past. He killed … hurt her badly and killed the girl whose dress this was. She was able to resist his command, and he killed her in the end,” Royce said with a cry of distress.

  “Where in the past, lass?” Chance asked anxiously.

  “I think Scotland—I saw out the windows and knew it was near the Grampian Mountains in the Highlands … and the design of the castle was medieval … I think they’re in the 1500s. But I don’t know the precise year …” Royce wailed fitfully.

  “Never mind—we can pinpoint him now with my Orb!” Trevor announced excitedly. “When he was still in the present he used black magic to hide his presence and location, but while he is in the past it won’t work to shield his location from my Orb.”

  Royce started to climb out of Chance’s lap, but he had her cradled and held her tightly for a moment. “Ye sure ye are steady now, love?”

  She smiled sweetly and was filled with so much love for him—he was so larger than life and yet full of gentleness. She threw her arms around his neck and started to whimper. “Oh, Chance … that poor young girl … with her entire life ahead of her … if only there was some way we could revisit this knowing what we know and save her.”

  He patted her back. “Time travel is dangerous—ye canna undo what has already happened. It would set off an entire new path of events. Doona think of it now … There will always be monsters out there—they hurt and kill all the time. Our job right now is to find and stop this particular one, this Dark Prince, and we will. He will pay. Mark me on it.”

  She pulled away to look at his face and touched his sensuous mouth. “I do … I mark you on it.”

  “If you two are done cuddling, could we proceed?” Trevor said with some exasperation.

  Chance got to his feet and with a sweeping motion set Royce on her sneakered feet as well. “Right then, lad … produce the Orb. Here … set it on this table.” He indicated the round oak table in the middle of the central hall.

  A moment later they were staring into the Lugh Orb as it worked to located Pestale. It didn’t take long to discover him in the castle Royce had seen. The Orb showed the Dark Prince on the bed with the three remaining girls, and they were still pleasuring him as well as themselves.

  “Find the date … find the town,” Chance said in some disgust. “We doona need to look at the bastard defiling those young lasses. Despicable beast.”

  “We need the Peckering!” Trevor said, and both he and Royce looked at Chance.

  “Where is the Peckering, Chance?” Royce asked on a worried note. She had forgotten all about her dagger.

  “In our room … under our mattress,” he said as he looked into her eyes. “She told me to hide her close, and that was …”

  They smiled into each other’s eyes, and then Royce put up her hand and called softly, “Peckering!”

  A moment later she was holding her Seelie Hallow. “Peckering, will you take us into the past—to Pestale?” Royce asked respectfully.

  “If you can tell me the precise location and century, I can then search it out,” said the Peckering. “My princess must look into the past through me and find this information.”

  Royce was astonished. “Through you—how?”

  “Hold me high and recite the Royal Locator Spell. It will give you what you need to get to your villain.”

  “I hadn’t realized I could do that for the past,” Royce said.

  “You can’t without me,” answered the Peckering proudly.

  Royce smiled and closed her eyes as she began saying the ancient Danu words, and then she excitedly opened her eyes to exclaim, “The town is Bragg, Scotland, and the time is the 1500s.” Royce looked at her Hallow. “Can you take us there?”

  “All three wish to go?” the Peckering asked doubtfully. “It will not be a pleasant experience, my Princess.”

  “Yes, we three wish to go, and it doesn’t matter—nothing about Pestale will be pleasant until he is dead,” returned Chance impatiently.

  “Right then,” Royce said softly. “Off we go, Peckering.” She drew in a long gulp of air.

  “So be it … but keep close to one another—don’t let go. This is going to be a rough ride,” the Peckering said grimly.

  “Rough?” Royce asked.

  “It never used to be, but since the Dark King tampered with time travel, the journey is a bumpy one,” said the Peckering. “Hold on.”

  “Wait!” Chance called a halt, and Royce looked at him expectantly.

  “Yer Death Sword, lass—keep it on ye.”

  Royce smiled at him. “It is ever near.”

  “Fine … but I mean to keep mine sheathed at m’back and ready.” So saying he put up his hand, and his sword appeared in his fist. He sheathed it and grinned. “Now … let’s go.”

  “Trevor?” Royce looked to him and supposed his sword was also within his Fae range.

  “Ready,” Trevor answered.

  “Right then, Peckering … off we go,” Royce said softly.

  “As you wish, my Princess …” />
  And suddenly they were flung into what felt and looked like a black hole …

  ~ Thirteen ~

  ROYCE HAD NEVER been in a wind tunnel, but she imagined that what they were experiencing was close to it. Chance had a death grip around her waist, but even though it hurt a bit, she was glad of it.

  She had grabbed onto his body and clung to his tee-shirt, and she felt Trevor holding onto both of them. She couldn’t see either of them, as they were in pitch black. A human could scarcely survive the lack of oxygen …

  She wanted it to end before she lost her hold on Chance. She wanted it to end because it was difficult to breathe. She felt as though they were being pulled apart from one another, and then, just as she feared, they were!

  She spun and was hit by the swishing, gale-like wind. She threw out her arms, but there was no Chance, no Trevor. She screamed their names but knew they wouldn’t hear her through the force of the gale.

  She was simply flung around like a rag doll in the frightening black hole, in constant motion and without relief.

  She got slammed with a large rock in the gut as she was sent along her journey in the dark, cavernous wormhole, and she closed her eyes and prayed she would be reunited with Chance and Trevor.

  It had begun to feel interminable, and she was glad that her Peckering was strapped to her body.

  Then, just when she thought she wouldn’t be able to take much more, she felt as though she was being spat out onto a hard, cold stone floor. She looked around and saw Chance, who was taking long, hard strides to her. He took her up in his arms and whispered, “M’darlin lass … ye dinna know what I just went through worrying about ye.”

  She snuggled her face against his chest, but this comfort was short lived. Trevor, who had landed hard on his back, got to his feet and immediately saw where they were and who was there.

  Sword clutched in his fist, and a feral growl on his breath, Trevor was charging boldly but wildly towards Pestale!

  Pestale was still in bed with the three young women. Pestale looked startled, and his women looked confused—Royce was sure they were dazed with the Lianhan sexual addiction he had instilled in them.

  Trevor was in a blind rage as he called out, “Pestale, you are dead! In Lana’s name you are dead!”

  Chance shouted at Trevor, “Stop, lad! Trev, no … Trev … no …”

  Too late. Trevor was already in his lunge and wouldn’t have stopped if he could. Too late he realized, as Royce and Chance gasped, just how wicked Pestale would be.

  Royce cried out even as it happened, helpless to stop it from happening.

  Trevor’s sword was pointed forward, and even as he lunged and before he could draw back, Pestale pulled one of the young women in front of him. Trevor’s sword went deeply through her, killing her immediately!

  Royce’s fist went to her lips as she stifled a scream.

  Chance cursed as Trevor pulled back.

  The lad’s face was aghast as he mumbled something incoherent. And then Trevor’s voice was hushed and clear and full with horror. “I’ve killed her … by Danu … forgive me. I’ve killed a human … I’ve killed an innocent …”

  Royce ran to him, took his face, and made him look at her. “It was an accident. He is the murderer, not you, Trev—not you. If anything, you spared her a life of misery. She was forever ruined. You didn’t mean it, Trevor. It wasn’t you that killed her. It was Pestale … He put her in harm’s way—not you, not you!”

  “Get up and fight like the warrior ye claim to be, ye bastard!” Chance’s voice was a low-throttle threat as he moved towards Pestale.

  Pestale got out of the bed and smirked at him. He touched his rock-hard cock and called to Royce, “Seelie Princess, I have to leave now, but I’d like you to join me … oh, how I would like you to join me.”

  Royce frowned. This was said to taunt Chance. He had witnessed Chance taking her into his arms, and she could see he was angry. He wanted to upset Chance, just for the pleasure of doing so.

  It worked. Chance nearly lost control as he started to pounce towards him, but Royce held him still and turned to Pestale. “You are a coward—using that girl to shield you—nothing more than a coward!”

  Pestale’s face went dark with his outrage. “You will think differently when you are ruling at my side. I only did what was necessary to survive.” He nodded towards Trevor. “Tell me, my Seelie Princess, who is the coward—me, or him? He charged me knowing I was unarmed. I saved myself with what was handy. She was only a human, not fit for much else.”

  “Despicable!” Royce spat at him.

  “Pick up yer sword, devil, and I’ll give ye a fair fight,” Chance said on a low, hard note.

  Pestale sneered at him and blinked himself into clothes. Suddenly he was elegantly dressed in a white shirt, breeches, and boots. His clothes reminded Royce of another era, though not medieval, and she studied him for a long, thoughtful moment. He was getting ready to shift to another time.

  He looked at her with desire in his dark eyes and whispered, “You and I—soon. Count on it, but for now … I do not view this situation as fair—two male warriors against one. No … not a fair fight.”

  He backed up as Chance advanced towards him and said, “Me—ye only have to fight me!”

  “Sure,” Pestale scoffed. “And when I have killed ye … in dives the Seelie prince.” He shook his head. “Think I’ll live to fight another day, on my terms.” He reached over and with one sweeping movement of his sword slit the throats of the remaining two girls huddling on the bed together.

  Royce screamed, and Chance took a moment to compose himself. Royce could see that Chance was shocked by Pestale’s act of gratuitous evil. He had been steeped in black magic, and it had made him far worse than he had been. She was sure of it. Pestale would grow more evil each day he used black magic. He had allowed the dark arts to define who he was …

  Suddenly Pestale reached into his bedside table drawer and pulled out a small artifact. Whispering something they could not hear, a moment later he was gone.

  “What the bloody hell!” shouted Chance, stepping towards where Pestale had been. “What the bloody hell just went down? Doona tell me we canna follow him—och, doona tell me that!” Chance said to no one in particular. He sniffed the air. “I can’t get a lead on his scent. He didn’t just shift, did he? Nooo. Not he—he went off in time again?”

  Trevor frowned as he sniffed the air, but Royce sighed, closed her eyes, and told them, “That’s right. He did not shift to another location—at least, not in the usual sense. He used the Dark King’s Time Relic to travel through time.” She turned to Trevor. “Call on your Orb while we see to the bodies of these poor girls. We can’t leave them here in the 1500s. They must be returned to their time and the people who loved them. Their families must have closure—they must. I have to take them somewhere they will be found …”

  Trevor called on the Orb of Lugh, but nothing happened.

  He tried calling for it again, and when it did not appear they all looked at each other and then at the Peckering, who Royce held up and asked, “What is the problem? Why can’t he call the Orb here?”

  “Time travel is difficult without … me.”

  “So then, Peckering, you call the Orb,” Royce told her.

  “It will not respond to my call … only to a Lugh,” Peckering answered softly. “However, I am capable of many things … perhaps I can locate your Dark Prince in time. I could not locate him when we were in our time period, nor can I look into the future, but when in a time not our own, I can look into the past.”

  “Then do so,” Chance nearly shouted.

  “I cannot work under duress,” returned the Peckering irritably.

  “Peckering, we are running out of time. He has just killed four young women who would have had their whole lives ahead of them … he has by doing that ruined the lives of their families. We have to stop him before he kills more innocents. Help us, please … and then help me. I must deliver
these bodies somewhere they will be immediately found in our time period.”

  “I will locate him as you ask, and then I will take you as you wish to our time period with … the women whose spirits have moved on,” the Peckering said quietly.

  Everyone waited, and the Peckering finally sighed and said, “Princess, he is in 1814. He has a very handsome establishment there … but I don’t like it. You must not follow him there. He is waiting for you—for all of you. He looks smug, and it feels wrong.”

  Royce went into her mind and saw him at once. It didn’t even take any effort. He was traveling in some kind of coach. He got out of the coach and tipped the driver. When he turned, she realized with some horror that she was beginning to view his surroundings through his eyes. Somehow they were linked; it was an uncomfortable feeling, and, Royce realized, it was black magic.

  She tried to escape its hold.

  And then Chance shook her. “Royce, m’lass … wherever ye are in that beautiful head of yers, remember … ye be here with me.”

  She looked at him, and her lashes fluttered. He touched her face and said softly, “Aye then—ye’ll take these poor women back to our time … and wait for us there. We will follow the bastard!”

  Royce frowned. She didn’t like this plan. “Why can’t you two come with me, and then we’ll all go together?”

  “Because that is what he is expecting, and it will give him time. I doona want to give him anything … do ye understand, love?”

  She didn’t like it, but she did understand. She nodded. “Right then—how will this work?”

  “I will send them off in time with a rebound, connected to me. Anytime they wish to leave, they have but to chant the Danu words, tabhair ar ais,” said the Peckering.

  Royce turned to Chance. “You won’t let him hurt either of you … Chance …?”

  “Now what is this? Before ye know it, Pestale will be dead and we’ll be back,” Chance said softly.

  “I don’t know, Chance … something is off. I feel it in my head. This is all turning out too easy …”