He snapped closed the clasp on his briefcase and set it on the floor. “Cora and I have gone over everything you wrote about your return. We don’t understand how you knew to break the enchantment.”
“Enchantment? You mean seal the portal.” She glanced from George to Cora. Both gave her a sympathetic look.
“The barrier that separated you from Arik was an enchantment.” His tone was matter-of-fact. A chill started at the base of her spine and ran up her back. Enchantments were temporary, even she knew that. Was it that simple, just wait for it to fade? No, it was solid and Arik was as frantic as she was to destroy it.
“Arik and I tried everything to break the barrier. Arik used his sword and I used my staff. Nothing worked.” Something at the edge of her mind nagged at her. Cora fidgeted. The chill shifted to a shiver of panic. What had she missed? “When the sword didn’t work, Arik pounded it with his fists.” Her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her eyes focused four hundred years in the past. She was there, experiencing it again. It was as bad now as it was then. “There was a great deal of blood.” She touched her pocket. She still had the cloth. “The runes on his body pulsated with his heartbeat.”
“With his heartbeat? How could you be certain?” Cora asked. Rebeka would never forget the constant drumming. Never.
“It echoed in my head. I was sure if he didn’t stop…” She was standing at the icy barrier watching, helpless as Arik pounded on it with his hands. The ice was smeared with his blood but he didn’t stop. She made out the steady beat once more growing faster and louder as his fists flashed. “I was afraid his heart would burst.” She took large gulps of air and searched around her for help but saw nothing. “I had to do something to make him stop.”
“Rebeka!” The even control in George’s voice brought her back to the present. She focused on where the voice came from but didn’t see him past the vision. Her terror began to fade. Cora stood next to her. She gave the woman a weak smile.
“Bran planned this well. There was one way he was able to get into your mind, when your defenses were down. That’s when you’re most vulnerable. Your protection of Arik was a perfect plan,” George said.
Bran? Got into her mind? “No, I called out to Arik but he didn’t hear me. The ice quivered under my hand. That’s when I understood my scream would shatter the ice.” She saw the silent signal that passed between brother and sister. She didn’t like where this was going. They knew something that she didn’t. Her panic turned to fear. She had made a grave mistake. But what?
“The barrier was an enchantment and temporary. There was no way of knowing if the enchantment would fade before the portal closed with you inside.” That was why Arik was working so fast. “However, breaking the enchantment forced the portal to seal over—”
“But it was ice and it shattered. It didn’t seal.” She stood bent over the desk on fisted hands. “If I hadn’t taken action Arik would have died. I’m certain. Don’t either of you see that?” Her chin dropped to her chest and her hair cascaded forward, hiding her face.
George grabbed her by her shoulders. “Listen to me.” He made her face him. “It wasn’t ice. It was an enchantment. The primal scream is a powerful tool. That’s what you used.” He let her shoulders go. Distraught, she crossed her arms, held herself tight and turned away.
“What would have happened if I hadn’t screamed?” George rose to his full height, a nervous expression on his face. Rebeka glanced at Cora. She was staring at the floor. “What are you not telling me?”
“Arik used a mixture of fire and blood—”
“Lightning struck the ice. I remember the ice feeling hot.” She sank into the chair.
“He also used a chant against the ice element. If you hadn’t forced the enchantment it would have faded when Arik finished his chant. You would have stepped out of the portal and it would have sealed. When you used the primal scream, the magick came apart and the portal sealed with you inside.”
“He would have died if he kept going.” The words stuck in her throat. “I couldn’t bear to see him hurt. His blood was everywhere.” The red smears on the icy film were real. She looked at both of them, her eyes begging them to understand, not wanting to accept the truth. “I saved him.”
“I’m sorry. The portal is gone. No one can bring it back.” He hesitated. “Not even the Grand Master,” George muttered, scrubbing his face with his hand.
Maybe they were wrong. They had to be. She heard Arik’s last words—he would find her. He believed it, and so would she. There must be another way.
“Look at me,” George demanded. She snapped around. “We’re with you in this. Together. We. Will. Find. Another. Way.” She was thankful for their help, but one thing swirled in her head. If she had waited…if she hadn’t rushed to meet him…if…
Arik, what have I done?
“I’ve spent the past two days,” Rebeka said, sitting with Cora in the library, “making a list of the places we might find information and reconnected with several researchers. They’re checking their libraries and archives for the missing journals. I also asked them to research Bran of Fayne Manor. They didn’t find anything but said they’d keep searching. I’ll start on the secondary list later today.” Rebeka read through her notebook, several industry directories and old auction listings she had on the table.
“Do you have any idea why there’s so little information about Bran?” Cora helped her organize the papers on the library table.
“It’s as if he never existed.” That was an interesting notion. “Throughout history, people were erased for the purpose of being forgotten. I remember Bran being a proud boy with a quick sense of humor. Although he was loved by everyone, he struggled for his place in the family. Denied by them would be the worst punishment imaginable.” Rebeka stared at the documents on the table.
Arik and Bran had been the ringleaders of all her childhood adventures. She and Leticia, and even Logan, cheered them on playing their supporting role. The pain on Arik’s face and hesitancy in his voice when he told her Bran fought against the family set off signals that there was more to the story, but Arik had internal demons he had to conquer before he would tell her. Now she wished she had pressed him for answers.
“Why don’t you take a break and come with me to Avebury. I have to drop off some papers at the National Trust’s office for George. After I’m through there I thought we’d do a little shopping, have a nice lunch,” Cora said.
How could she spend time idling away? Rebeka glanced at her notes. Cora had been a dear over the past days. She was compassionate with a gentle soul. And was easy to be with and talk to. Spending time with her would be nice, but she had to keep focused on returning to Arik. So far, she’d found nothing that would help her, not even where to look next. She needed…something to give her a direction.
“I know you want to dig in and keep looking but a short break will clear your mind. Besides, we won’t be gone long. Promise.”
She could use some fresh air. She glanced out the terrace door. Maybe getting away from the manor was what she needed. “Sure. Let me put these books away then we can leave.” Rebeka put on her backpack and threaded her staff into the leather straps. She juggled the books in her arms.
“Here, let me help you.” Cora pulled several books off the stack and followed her to the back of the library where her personal reference materials had been shelved.
“You can give them to me now.” Rebeka spun around to take the books from her. “Cora?” The woman stared at Rebeka’s backpack.
“What’s wrong?” Rebeka followed Cora’s line of sight to see what was behind her.
“Not behind you. You’re wearing it.” She pointed to Rebeka’s staff.
Confused, Rebeka pulled out her staff. Select runes glowed. The only time the runes had glowed was when she and Arik both touched the staff. She searched around; was he near?
“It didn’t start until you were close to the bookcase.” Rebeka passed her staff in front of the shel
ves. Like a Geiger counter, the closer it passed to the document drawer the more her staff reacted. Cora opened the drawer, peered inside and rummaged through the items. “It’s a carved ball,” Cora said, pulling it out of the drawer. “Move it over the ball.” Rebeka passed her staff over the ball and the runes grew bright.
“Nothing’s happening to the stone. No glowing. No vibrations, nothing at all. Do you know what’s causing your staff to light up?” Cora looked into the drawer. Rebeka examined her staff, trying to make sense of what happened. She examined the stone.
“This is an Orkney carved stone ball, unique to Skara Brae. Is there anything else from Orkney in the library?” Rebeka stepped away from the stone. The glowing runes dimmed and died.
“No, I don’t see anything else. There’re some papers in the drawer. Looks like receipts of some sort.” The shuffling of paper filled the silent room as Cora rummaged through them. Rebeka waved her staff over the ball again. The runes brightened, but why.
“It’s a wedding invitation.” Cora pulled the yellowed document out of the drawer. The old writing was hard to decipher but Cora plowed on. “‘Your most royal highness, it is with great happiness and pleasure that I announce my forthcoming wedding to Caylyn of Orkney on May 1, 1590, at Fayne Manor. We hope you will grace our event with your attendance. Your servant, Lord Bran of Orkney.’ Well, that’s short and sweet.” Orkney—of course. Bran was from Orkney, not Fayne Manor.
The invitation was the first mention they found of Bran but the Skara Brae stone held Rebeka’s interest. Why did it make her staff glow? She understood why it glowed when Arik touched it but she had no idea why her staff reacted to the Orkney stone. There had to be some connection between the stone and Arik. A sign. She jumped up, electrified by the idea. It had to be a sign. She had a hard time trying to contain her excitement. Now all she had to figure out was what he wanted her to do.
“Has your staff ever glowed like that before?” Cora asked. Rebeka put the stone back into the drawer and closed it. She was giddy knowing she’d be with him soon.
“Only when Arik and I both touch it. We were in the high meadow, after we fought Katherine. We both touched my staff. It lit up and my memories returned.” Speaking of it now brought to mind her anxiety when she watched the runes glow. One by one, they lit and marched along her staff, his arm and hers. She glanced at her staff now quiet in her hand. By the time they returned to the manor, memories had tumbled back into place, the closeness of her family and Arik’s. And that they loved each other before her father took her away didn’t surprise her.
“The runes that glowed?” They both knew which runes glowed on her staff.
“The sigil of my name and Arik’s.”
“The sigil’s believed to have magical powers.” Cora paused. “Do you have any idea why only that image lit?”
“I’m not certain whether it’s an invitation or a command appearance. Either way, it’s a trip to Orkney.” Apprehension flashed across Cora’s face. Rebeka let out a deep breath. “What else could it mean? Orkney. Our sigil in lights. If that’s not an invitation I don’t know what is.”
“We need to speak to George. I don’t think he’ll see it your way.” Cora was nervous.
Rebeka’s chin rose in a blatant challenge. George wasn’t making the decision on whether she visited Orkney. Her cheeks burned in frustration. She took a calming breath. George and Cora had worked for a long time trying to find her. Maybe it was their natural order of things, for Cora to defer to him. It wasn’t hers.
Her heart skipped a beat. “He sealed all the portals here.” She hefted her staff. “He must have found a portal in Orkney.” It was so obvious to her. How did Cora not see it? “You don’t agree.”
“It’s not that. I’m a bit skeptical, that’s all. I’ve watched you these past few days go from soaring heights to some deep depression. Nothing would please me more than for you to be reunited with Arik. But let’s not take this too fast. Let’s think about going to Skara Brae. I’m certain George will know how to interpret this.”
She wasn’t so certain George would know what to do. If there was any possibility of returning to Arik she was going to investigate it. And that didn’t mean remaining in the library. “This is the only lead we have.”
“It’s not a nice place,” came Cora’s slow and careful response.
Rebeka glanced at her. “I know. I’ve been there many times, four hundred years ago. I know exactly how ‘nice’ is it.” She hoped she sounded stronger than she felt. She wanted George to agree with her, even come with her. But in the end, she was going to Orkney with or without his help.
Chapter Five
October 15, 1605 — Afternoon
Arik held court sitting on the dais in the Great Manor Chair. The old heirloom had been unused for decades. Previous lords of the house had found the massive carved seat intimidating, but not Arik. Its size fit him—as did its significance, the role of deciding his tenant’s disputes.
“Was that the last?” He leaned forward, his hands on the chair’s carved arms, eager to get back to his tower. He was spending too much time every other Wednesday with these interviews, but it was better than traipsing around the countryside speaking to each tenant. He had little enough time as it was to research the old documents. He glanced out the window, his eyes on the tower. Didn’t anyone understand he was losing precious time?
“Yes, for now,” Logan said.
Arik bolted out of the chair and was halfway across the room, Logan by his side.
“Everyone seems to be on edge,” Logan said as he and Arik left the Great Hall. Arik glanced at his brother from the corner of his eye. Was Logan blaming him for all these disputes?
“What does that mean?” Arik stopped and grabbed Logan’s arm, pulling him around.
“What do I mean?” Arik recognized the warring in Logan’s eyes. It wasn’t like Logan to beg for an argument. “What disputes did you hear today and two weeks ago and two weeks before that?” Logan didn’t wait for Arik to answer. “Meaningless, petty arguments and fights. People who have been friends all their lives are arguing over nothing. And why? I’ll tell you.” The rage that swept through Logan’s voice brought Arik up short. He’d never seen Logan in such a fit. “You’ve been locked in your tower room for weeks. You don’t speak to your soldiers, your tenants, the villagers, to say nothing of your family.” Logan stepped closer to Arik with each word until Arik could smell Logan’s anger.
“You don’t understand.” Arik moved to push Logan away but his brother caught his hand.
Arik glared at Logan. In a frozen tableau, neither he nor his brother moved. After several heartbeats Logan released Arik’s hand.
“You are not the only one who lost Rebeka. We all have. But we have lost more—much more. We’ve also lost you.” Something in Logan’s tone made him pull up.
The fight drained out of him like a rupture in a water skin. He studied Logan’s face. He looked past his handsome features, boundless devotion and unwavering trust. But his heart was pierced when he recognized his brother’s deep disappointment—in him.
He fixed his stare over Logan’s shoulder. He couldn’t stand to see himself mirrored in his brother’s eyes.
“When Leticia died you got us through those dark days.” Arik refocused on Logan in spite of his pain. “You kept everyone together, caring for each other, talking, working, moving forward, but we did it together—not only for Skylar and Aubrey, who were so small and orphaned, but me, the tenants, the villagers, our soldiers. You told me together we could face anything.” Logan paused. “And we did.” His voice low, he added, “This is no different.”
They stood for several moments not speaking, Logan’s words seeping into his head. He remembered that time, how Letty’s death touched everyone. In helping them he had helped himself get through her loss.
“I love her, Logan, and will do whatever needs to be done to get her back. But others shouldn’t pay that price.” With an unwavering stare, he look
ed over the terrace railing. He wasn’t the only person hurting. Logan was right. “After all my talk to Rebeka about examining a situation from different viewpoints I batter away at one, magick. I don’t know where else to search.”
Logan was right. He had isolated himself from everyone caring about what Rebeka meant to him and not about what she meant to the others. “There is much to do.” He gave his brother a sideways glance.
“I’m ready, so are the others. Do you have a plan?” Arik took a deep breath. For the first time in weeks it was clean and sweet.
“The start of one. Would you help—”
“I’ve been waiting for you to ask. Where do we begin?”
Present Day
“I can’t find any druid information here.” Rebeka struggled to contain her temper and the urge to throw the books against the wall. “Nothing.” She spit out the word and glanced at George, who was not saying a word from his place across the table. He didn’t appear to be any happier.
“You’re quite right. This is the last of the old texts.” George closed the book, his fingers drummed on the leather binding. He stared into space and she questioned what he was searching for. “That leaves one other place, the druid sanctuary,” he murmured. He slammed his hand against the old book. The unexpected sound made her jump. “The missing documents must be there. I stand in front of the garrison wall knowing the sanctuary is behind it but none of the chants open it. I was certain you would know how.” The accusation in his voice angered her even more.
“I was never there when Arik or Logan opened it.” George remained silent but Rebeka noted how he shifted in his seat. At last, he was coming to the same conclusion she had three weeks earlier. “Look, George, neither of us knows how to open the sanctuary. I haven’t the time to research what needs to be done. I’m not even certain it’s documented. But we’re wasting time.” She ran her hand through her hair as she paced in front of him. “I can’t wait any longer. For weeks we’ve investigated every inch of the manor and the grounds. We even searched the old mill and Oak Meadow. I’ve waved my staff around like a madwoman with a divining rod. Nothing.” She stopped in front of him. Her patience was running out. They hadn’t found an answer because—“Orkney is the answer.”
Druid Knights 02: Knight of Rapture Page 5
