by Opal Carew
It felt good.
When they separated, Nyte returned Remlin’s warm smile.
“Do you know where Randalph is?”
“Yes, you’ll find him at home.”
Nyte nodded. “Fine. I’ll let you know the outcome.”
He raised his arms, ready to transport.
“Before you go, Nyte, how is Lucinda?”
Nyte remembered how she had exercised her uniquely feminine abilities last night to get exactly what she wanted--to his total delight.
“She’s recovering nicely. A bit more bed rest and she’ll be fine.”
Remlin chuckled. “If you actually let her rest. You know, you’ve been paired with an extraordinary woman.”
Nyte nodded. “I know that. Very stubborn, but well worth the frustration.”
Remlin leaned against the arm of the chair. “She was pretty weak. Do you think you should have left her alone?”
His eyebrows arched up. “You aren’t offering to go sit with her, are you? I’d have a lot of explaining to do if I sent you there.”
A gleam appeared in Remlin’s eyes. “There is another alternative.”
Chapter 20
Nyte approached the clearing of trees quietly, watching the silhouette of a figure sitting by the wishing well. Randalph. His powder white hair cascaded past his shoulders, which seemed to sag as he leaned forward, his chin resting on his fist in the classic thinker’s pose.
A hush hung over the glade, as if nature’s creatures didn’t want to disturb Randalph while he struggled with his thoughts. Not total silence, but soft cushioned sounds: a gentle breeze wafting through the trees, the trickling of water though a nearby stream, and the occasional warbling of a dove.
Nyte stood silent for a moment, loath to disturb the serenity of the scene. As he opened himself to the tranquility, Randalph’s heightened energy battered against him--a distressing mix of anguish and guilt. Clearly, Randalph’s mood was anything but peaceful.
Nyte picked up a leaf from the ground and twirled the stem between his fingers.
“Randalph. It’s time we talked.”
Randalph turned toward him, his blue eyes hollow, his cheeks drawn.
“Why did you leave me alone?” His voice trembled with emotions long suppressed.
A haunting ache started within him at the knowledge Randalph had been alone for thirteen centuries. Whether the question referred to that, or his leaving Randalph alone at Remlin’s, Nyte didn’t know.
“I had to protect Lucinda. And I knew you could take care of yourself.”
“Like I have all these centuries.” The quiet words joined with the rustling of the leaves and echoed through the trees, surrounding Nyte with a sense of Rand’s loneliness. A pain that burrowed deep like the roots of the trees, and like those roots, affected the foundation of his whole life.
He stepped closer. “I didn’t want to leave you.”
Randalph pushed himself to his feet and strolled across the clearing to a path that led deeper into the woods.
“I spoke with Remlin and he told me a great many things.”
“Like what?” Nyte followed him. Trees arched over them, blocking the sunlight, surrounding them in a gentle, shadowed world filled with the quiet whispers of nature.
“Wild things. Unbelievable things.”
Randalph pushed aside a low hanging branch. He continued wandering deeper into the forest, as though searching for something. A grounding of some sort perhaps. Nyte could well imagine the things Remlin had told him, things that would skew Randalph’s whole view of reality. He would need something to cling to. Something to remind him of the solidity of his existence.
“Did you believe them?”
He slowed his pace a fraction. “I don’t know.” Confusion churned through his quiet words.
More than ever Randalph needed someone to talk to. Someone to provide guidance. Nyte felt an aching need to be that person.
And he should be. It was the way it was meant to be.
But for now he had to focus on his purpose.
“What did he tell you about Clarissa?”
Randalph stopped walking. “He told me he and Clarissa... That they... His eyes fell closed and he leaned against a tree. “How could she do that? To me?” He opened his eyes and quickly blinked away a glaze of moisture. “To us?”
He wanted to reach out to Randalph, to touch him in a fatherly way, with love and reassurance, but Randalph wasn’t ready for that. His fingers slid around Nyte’s wrist and clamped tight like an iron manacle.
“It’s not true, is it?” Randalph’s gaze bored into Nyte, pleading with him to deny the fact that Clarissa had had an affair with Remlin.
How could Nyte hurt him more by confirming her betrayal? And yet lying would only make matters worse.
He gave in to the impulse to rest his hand on Randalph’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Randalph, I—”
Randalph’s eyes blazed with anger and he flung Nyte’s hand away. “No! I don’t believe you.” He spun around and strode further down the path. Into darker shadows.
“I’m sure you want me to believe she chose to leave, too,” Randalph declared. “To go to some other world.” He spun back to face Nyte. “But I know that isn’t true. You killed her.”
Nyte steadied himself against the inner turmoil Randalph’s words evoked. Now that he finally stood accused, they could face the matter, and get past it.
Nyte shook his head. “No, I didn’t.”
Burning emotions raged through him as he remembered trying desperately to talk Clarissa out of leaving, but she wouldn’t listen. She had walked away without a thought as to the pain she would inflict on the men who loved her.
Randalph turned to him with shimmering eyes. “I saw you kill her.”
The anger and hatred in Randalph’s eyes burned through Nyte’s soul. Remlin had done well to explain what had happened before Nyte arrived, to allow the facts to simmer in Randalph’s brain, but Nyte knew, no matter what explanation Randalph had been given, he would not easily give up the belief he’d clung to for so long.
Nyte had to focus Randalph on the important point, the reason he’d come here today.
“This isn’t about whether I killed Clarissa or not. I can prove I didn’t.”
He paused a moment to let his words sink in. Randalph raised his head and gaped at Nyte with a startled look of disbelief.
“This is about what you did,” Nyte continued. “You killed me.”
Anguish streaked across Randalph’s face. “I... couldn’t help it. You killed her and I... .”
Randalph slammed his hand against a tree. The haunting, dismal look in his eyes gave Nyte a brief glimpse into the dark recesses of his soul.
“Damn it. What did you expect?” Randalph’s fingers clenched into tight fists. “You killed my mother.”
Nyte stepped toward him. “Randalph, you killed me, and I forgive you.”
A flicker of confusion sparked in Randalph’s eyes before he shuttered them behind a glare. “I don’t want your forgiveness.”
Nyte continued forward, determined to get through to Randalph. “I forgive you.”
Randalph’s back stiffened and his gaze clashed with Nyte’s. “You have no right.”
Clearly, Nyte’s steady progress closer unnerved Randalph. His bravado started to crumble and he backed away.
“I forgive you.” Nyte’s words, steady and confident, filled the void between them.
Randalph shook his head and backed against a tree, his eyes glazing. Agitation radiated from him. He was like an animal backed into a corner.
“I forgive you.” Warmth shimmered through his words. He had resolved to make Randalph come to terms with his guilt. And conquer it.
As Nyte moved within an arm’s length of him, Randalph’s eyes blazed with violent emotions.
“No, you--” He shook his head and spoke in barely audible words, “You can’t.” His voice broke.
“I forgive you.” Nyte clasped his ar
ms around Randalph. He remained stiff in Nyte’s embrace, but Nyte hugged him tighter, willing him to lower his barriers. “I forgive you, son,” he murmured, “because I love you.”
Rand shuddered, then collapsed against Nyte, his whole body shaking.
Conflicting emotions skewered Nyte’s heart as he held his son in his arms for the first time in over a millennium. The most intense was joy at finally breaking through to him.
“And now,” Nyte said, his voice barely a whisper, “you need to forgive yourself.”
* * * *
Lucinda padded into the kitchen and tugged open the fridge. Orange juice was all she could find to drink.
Well, it wasn’t diet Coke but it would have to do.
She pulled out the pitcher and poured herself a glass. After a thorough exploration, she settled on the granola she found in one of the cupboards. As she sat at the table and poured the cereal into a bowl, the tinkling noise reminded her of the sound of Merlin’s hard food when she poured it into his dish.
Merlin! He hadn’t been fed in days.
She couldn’t just leave the little critter to starve to death. On the other hand, she’d promised Nyte she wouldn’t leave the house.
With any luck, Nyte wouldn’t be too long.
She consoled herself with the thought that Merlin had lots of water available and he could probably last a week without food. She ignored the thought that he’d probably go hunting for something to eat long before then.
Heaven help the sparrows.
If Nyte returned in the next couple of hours, her feathered friends might be spared.
She hoped Nyte would return long before that. She’d spent the last hour worrying, finally coming into the kitchen to do something about the empty rumblings in her own stomach.
If Nyte didn’t return soon, she’d go crazy with apprehension. If anything happened to him, especially now that she’d experienced the joy of his love, she didn’t know how she’d cope. Making love with Nyte had opened up a part of her she’d kept hidden for a long time--a vulnerable part that allowed her to let someone into her heart.
How would she survive living an eternity without him?
She heard a scratching at the door and glanced up in time to see a black, triangular face topped by two pointed ears appear through a small flap in the back door.
“Mrreow.”
“Merlin!” Pleasure zipped through her at the sight of the little critter.
He pushed through the flap and sauntered across the room. He glanced around, as though looking for his dish, then sat in the middle of the floor, a tall, proud statue, staring at her.
Nyte must have sent Merlin to her. What a sweet gesture. He must have known she’d be lonely, and that she’d be worried about her cat.
Relief trickled through her. If he was able to send Merlin, he must still be safe.
She leaped to her feet and grabbed the feline, then hugged him to her chest. “I’m so sorry, fella. You must be hungry.”
Totally unlike Merlin, he put up with her hugging for a minute or more before he murred, then wriggled in search of freedom. She loosened her hold and he leaped to the floor.
“I know you don’t like displays of affection, but I missed you. I can’t help it.”
He rubbed against her legs and purred loudly. She smiled broadly.
“You missed me, too, didn’t you?”
She walked to the cupboard and searched for something to feed him. Tuna would do nicely, she thought, as she pulled out a stubby can. She opened it and dumped the contents onto a dinner plate, liquid and all.
She placed it in front of him, then filled a bowl with fresh water.
Surprisingly, he sniffed at the tuna, but ate very little.
She crouched down and petted him. She’d forgotten how silky his shiny black coat felt. Ever since Nyte came into her life, she’d shamelessly ignored Merlin. Well, not ignored exactly. In fact, it was more like Merlin had ignored her. He had spent every minute he could with Nyte.
But she wouldn’t dwell on that now. She was glad Merlin liked him. After all, Nyte would be a part of her life for a very long time.
Assuming, of course, that he did return.
She sat back down in her chair.
“You know, Mer, Nyte’s gone off to save Rand from some wretched wizard named Remlin.”
Merlin glanced up from his bowl and stared at her, his tail straight as a flagpole.
“I’m really worried about him.”
Merlin leaped onto her lap and nuzzled her hand. She petted him and he purred contentedly. At the feel of his warm fur rippling under her hand and the slight vibration rumbling through him, some of the tension eased from her shoulders. Did cats know how soothing their presence was?
“I don’t know what Remlin has in mind, but I think he’s dangerous.” She wrapped her hands around Merlin and lifted him to face her. “Merlin, I might never see Nyte again.”
As she stared into his eyes, a storm of emotion chilled through her.
Merlin stared back. Big, green eyes. The color of peridot. Glittering. Roguish. With a knowing gleam.
Just like Remlin’s.
Suddenly, the similarity in names struck her. Remlin. Merlin.
Her insides started to churn.
Her head shook back and forth of its own accord.
“No. You can’t be.”
The cat seemed to smile.
She plunked him on the floor and backed away.
“You can’t.” Her voice held an edge of panic.
The small, black body began to transform, expanding, stretching longer, then pushing to an upright position.
“Remlin!” She gasped his name in horror.
Unbelievable. Her cat was actually an evil wizard.
One thought bolted through the haze of shock surrounding her. Nyte would never forgive himself when he realized he’d sent their enemy right to her.
“Have you been... ? I mean, the past three years... ?”
He nodded, a devilish gleam in his eyes.
Anger sliced through her. She planted her hands on her hips. “The whole time I’ve been feeding you and taking care of you, you’ve been a... a... .”
“Wizard.”
She scowled. “A rat, you mean.”
He grinned. “Lucinda, your annunciation is atrocious. You spell cat with a “c,” not an “r.”
“I took care of you. I... “ Loved you. She bit back the words, the very thought making her ill.
His smile turned warm and he reached out and took her hand. “I know you did, and believe me the affection is mutual.”
She didn’t like the warmth in his voice. She didn’t like how it chipped away at her indignation. And she didn’t like the way her hand felt so natural clasped in his, like it used to with her brother Jerrick. She snatched her hand away, reminding herself this man was dangerous.
“Why did you come?” she demanded.
“To keep you company.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t want your company.”
He shrugged and strolled across the room. “Fine. I won’t impose myself on you. When I see Nyte, I’ll tell him how worried you are.”
He grinned and nodded toward the bowl of tuna on the floor. “So long, and thanks for all the fish.”
She grimaced at the quote from one of her favorite books.
He slashed his arms up then down and disappeared.
She drew in a deep breath and expelled it. She couldn’t believe he’d gone away so easily. It didn’t make sense. Why hadn’t he taken her prisoner again and used her as bait?
When I see Nyte, I’ll tell him how worried you are.
Alarm spiked through her. He intended to convince Nyte he’d broken through the barrier and kidnapped her again.
Damn. Remlin--alias her pet Merlin--was playing a vicious game of cat and mouse with them all, and she didn’t like it one bit.
If Nyte thought Remlin had her... .
Nyte’s words crept th
rough her mind. Lucinda, I would do anything to protect you. Remlin knows that. Do you really want to give him that much power over me?
She couldn’t let Nyte think she was Remlin’s prisoner.
She had to warn him.
* * * *
Inside the confines of Nyte’s house and his protective spell, Lucinda could not sense where Nyte was. The bond between them had not been cut off, as it had been when she’d been in Remlin’s clutches, but she couldn’t fully sense Nyte’s essence.
She shifted her body outside, just beyond the boundaries of the spell. The connection between her and Nyte swelled with his cherished presence, like a flood of warm, fragrant light washing over her.
She shifted again, following the thread of his essence through space until she felt herself materialize.
Her first impression was of hard, level ground under her feet. Smooth. Probably a floor, rather than the softer, less even terrain of an outdoor location. A room came into focus around her. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with row upon row of books. Some very new, some as old as a book could be.
Rand’s library.
Had Nyte tracked Rand here? If so, and Rand was safe, why had Nyte been gone so long? Had their antagonism gotten the better of them, making them forget the danger from Remlin? If so, she could have a fight on her hands.
An odd crackling noise vibrated through the air. She knew Nyte must be near--his presence felt very strong--but one of the bookshelves that carved the room into sections blocked her view of the main area.
She stepped around it and felt her heartbeat accelerate like a formula one racing car at the wave of a checkered flag. It took a second for the scene before her to clarify to reality.
Nyte stood about five meters from Rand and from his fingers spiked sharp, jagged lines of energy. Violet. Directed straight at Rand.
Rand stood tall and proud, not even trying to fight back. An eerie violet glow radiated around him, growing brighter as Nyte continued to feed it energy.
