Chalice of Roses

by Jo Beverley

  “The spell will hold as long as I’m alive,” Jane said tersely as she jumped out. They’d have an airplane to come back to. If they came back.

  “Let’s go get the bastard, eh?” He grinned at her, then spun and sprinted toward the cliff, with Jane two steps behind.

  As soon as they moved away from the Fox, they plunged into a wall of water, because Jane hadn’t figured out how to put separate weather protection around the pair of them. David ran unerringly to the right, dropping into a crouch at the edge of the cliff.

  As Jane came down beside him, she saw a small beach below with storm waves crashing hard into the sand. As she watched, Krieger reached the bottom of the cliff path and stepped onto the beach. He was dressed as a tweedy Scottish gentleman and had an olive drab canvas military bag slung across his chest. A good size for holding the Grail.

  Krieger pulled an electric torch from the bag and aimed it out to sea. He was signaling his submarine.

  The SS colonel was a model of Aryan breeding, blond and whip-cord lean, with lines of cruelty cut into his face. Evil pulsed around him so intensely that it made her eyes hurt. She whispered, “He’s got a protective weather bubble around himself.”

  “Thereby keeping his gun dry,” David said grimly. “You stay up here where you can see to use your magic. I’m going down.”

  “I’m coming, too. I might be able to do more if I’m there.” When he scowled at her, she said, “I know you want to protect me, but we’ll have a better chance of success together. I think I can mask us from being seen until we’re almost on top of him.”

  She could see protectiveness and necessity warring across his face. Necessity won. “Then do the best damned masking job of your life.” A moment later, he was over the cliff and on his way down.

  She followed as fast as she dared, clutching at bushes to keep from falling while concentrating fiercely on veiling their approach. Luckily, the combination of wind, rain and crashing surf covered up the sounds of their mad scramble to the beach.

  By the time David reached the bottom of the cliff path, Krieger’s signal was returned with a brief series of flashes from the firth. Satisfied, the colonel signed off and clipped the torch to his belt. He was starting to push the dinghy to the water’s edge when he became aware that he wasn’t alone.

  Krieger whirled and froze for an instant, naked shock on his face. Then his thin lips twisted into a smile. “So, little girl, you survived my assault,” he said with a flawless, educated English accent. “You’re a stronger sorceress than I thought, so I shan’t waste more of my power on you when a mundane method will do.”

  He reached under his coat and pulled out a pistol. “First this provincial lout. Then it will be your turn, little sorceress.”

  As David launched himself forward with a roar, Jane attacked Krieger’s weather protection spell. Rain immediately drenched him and his weapon. The colonel fired at David at point-blank range—and his pistol misfired.

  David tackled him and both men crunched against the side of the boat. They fell to the sand, David on top. He chopped the edge of his hand into Krieger’s throat, but the gasping colonel managed to bash David’s head with the pistol.

  The flying helmet absorbed some of the blow, but David still went down. Krieger hauled himself to his feet. Not wasting more time, he shoved the boat into the water and scrambled inside. The waves had been pounding into the cove, but now they flattened somewhat. The colonel grabbed the oars and began rowing frantically out into the firth.

  Wishing she had some kind of thunderbolt to throw at the man, Jane reached David’s side as he was lurching to his feet. “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “A glancing blow. No harm done.” David stripped off his helmet and jacket, then started on his trousers. “A good thing I grew up swimming in the North Atlantic.”

  Aghast that he intended to hurl himself into the stormy sea, Jane said, “Do you have a chance of catching him?”

  “I do.” He smiled reassuringly as he kicked off his shoes, then stripped off everything but his shorts. “I’m not suicidal.”

  “I think I can mask you from being noticed until you reach the boat, and keep you from freezing in the water. Please . . . be careful!” Even as she said the words, she realized how pointless they were. Better to offer practical help. “If you get into trouble, call on the power of the Grail!”

  He thrust the screwdriver into the waistband of his shorts, then tilted Jane’s head up and gave her a hard kiss. “I love you, Jane Macrae.” He grinned. “It’s all right. You don’t have to love me back.”

  Then he turned and dived into the sea.

  Chapter 5

  The water wasn’t as cold as David expected. Blessing Jane for whatever bit of magic she was using to keep him from freezing solid, he followed the dinghy with long, powerful strokes. He’d been a Canadian national swimming champion before joining the RAF. Had the Grail taken that into account when he was drafted into its service?

  At first the waves were immense, and possibly worse for Krieger in his small boat than for David in the water. Then the sea calmed a little. More weather magery, he guessed. Probably from the SS colonel but possibly from Jane. The only certainty was the Grail’s white light drawing him forward like a moth to flame.

  He closed in on the dinghy, which was pitching wildly in the waves as Krieger struggled with the oars. Jane’s masking magic worked so well that the colonel didn’t see David swimming straight at him.

  That was about to change. David glided up to the left rear gunwale and wrapped his hands around the edge while he caught his breath. He deliberately chose the gunwale rather than the transom because he wanted the small craft to tilt when he boarded. Anything that threw Krieger off balance would help David.

  Boarding a boat from the water wasn’t easy, and if David didn’t manage it the first time, he’d be in serious trouble. After one last deep breath, he heaved himself upward, throwing the full weight of his upper body into the dinghy. He landed on Krieger’s lap. The SS colonel squawked with surprise.

  David wrapped his right arm around the Nazi’s ankles and pulled so that Krieger fell awkwardly back into the bottom of the boat, where water sloshed inches deep. David scrambled onto his knees and swung a punch down at the other man’s jaw. Krieger jerked his head to one side, swearing in German, so the blow glanced off his skull.

  “You should have stayed on land, boy!” Krieger snarled. He made a motion with his fingers, and suddenly David couldn’t breathe. He tried to strike the colonel again, but he had no strength, no coordination.

  Jane knew. He felt her horror and her desperate attempt to break Krieger’s spell, but she couldn’t. David fell awkwardly across Krieger and the dinghy’s seats, helpless as a fly bound up in spider silk.

  Krieger dragged himself out from under David’s body and grabbed the oars, aiming the dinghy into the waves to reduce the rolling. “Ordinarily I would kill you slowly,” he spat out. “But I have other matters of greater concern. Shall I leave you there to suffocate, or push you into the water to drown?”

  David doubted the method mattered, since he’d die quickly either way. His vision was darkening when he remembered Jane’s last words: If you get into trouble, call on the power of the Grail!

  And the Grail was right here, only a yard away in that canvas bag slung around Krieger’s chest. David closed his eyes and reached out mentally to touch the shining light. Grace, he thought with amazement as he touched the chalice’s energy. Grace personified.

  When the pastor of his family church gave sermons on grace, David had daydreamed about flying or swimming or girls. Grace was just a word, not anything real.

  He knew better now. As the radiance of the chalice rushed through him, he knew that he could die in this moment and be blessed.

  But he didn’t die. Air began to move into his lungs and his vision cleared. He returned to full awareness when Krieger bent and tried to manhandle him over the side.

  David caught the colon
el and yanked him down headfirst. A wild struggle ensued as they grappled for advantage. Black magic swirled about like poisonous fumes seeking a way to burn David alive, whole, but the white light of the Grail protected him.

  When magic was not part of the equation, David realized that he was stronger and more experienced, and his slippery, wet body gave the Nazi little to grab onto. When Krieger drew back to catch his breath, David threw himself forward in a tackle that slammed the man’s head into the gunwale.

  Krieger rolled loosely in the pitching boat, temporarily stunned. David sat back on his knees and grabbed the screwdriver, which had stayed tucked in his waistband during the turbulent swim.

  Recovering, a wild-eyed Krieger snarled, “The Grail is mine! I have spent a lifetime searching for it!” He clasped his arm protectively over the olive drab bag. “I shall become the most powerful man in the Reich, even more powerful than the Führer! You shall not have it!”

  His last words were accompanied by a magical attack of incredible viciousness. Pure evil slammed David like a club. He gasped, his vision darkening for a moment, but once more the light of the Grail protected him from injury.

  Reaching out, he laid a hand on Krieger’s bag, feeling the hard shape of the chalice beneath his palm. Grace. The antithesis of evil.

  Light scoured through him, righteous as a sword. The fog of evil dissolved as the white light ricocheted back into Krieger, illuminating every dark corner of his twisted soul. David caught his breath as he realized that destroying the darkness was also destroying the SS colonel’s magic, which was pure evil.

  Krieger gave a howl of agony and clamped his hands over his head. “No! No!” he screamed as the power and identity that had defined him disintegrated, leaving raw emptiness.

  David used the colonel’s shock to yank the canvas bag over the man’s head, then sling it securely across his own chest. He was shaking with cold and needed to get back to land and safety quickly. But what to do about Krieger?

  He glanced down at the screwdriver. It wasn’t designed as a weapon, but it would suffice to puncture an enemy’s throat or brain.

  Seeing the glance, Krieger gasped. “Kill me, damn you! You’ve stolen the skills and power I’ve spent a lifetime developing!”

  David hesitated. He’d shot down German fighters, then prayed that the pilots would bail out safely. He’d never killed a man with his own hands, but the Nazi’s agonized expression made it seem that death would be a mercy.

  Thou shalt not kill. At least, not while he carried the Grail. He knew that as surely as he knew his own heartbeat. Or Jane’s.

  Should he row the dinghy ashore and take Krieger prisoner? No again. His instinct said he must leave. Take the sacred chalice away from the scene of this battle with evil, and leave the SS colonel to determine his own fate.

  “No,” he said quietly. “Live, and perhaps learn that the Holy Grail is about grace and healing, not power and death.” He tucked the screwdriver into his waistband again, then turned and slid into the sea to return to the shore.

  Back to land, and to Jane.

  Dizzily Jane realized that she was kneeling on the cold, wet sand and curled into a ball around David’s leather flight jacket. She had passed out from pouring every shred of power she possessed into protecting him and saving the Grail.

  Now she sensed . . . nothing. Was the confrontation over, or had she permanently burned out her magical abilities?

  The rain stopped. She raised her head and saw that the clouds were breaking up and small patches of blue sky were visible. Did that mean Krieger had been killed, or had he been picked up by the U-boat and released the weather magic as no longer needed?

  David? David!? She reached out frantically as she sought the pulse of his life. But her mind and spirit were scorched to ashes. Losing her power was like losing sight or hearing.

  The despair of that warred with her frantic wish that she had responded to his stunning declaration of love. Though she had no idea how she should have responded.

  Splashing. Jane’s head whipped around, and a hundred yards out she saw the dark head of a man stroking uncertainly toward shore. “David!”

  Afraid he was too weak to make the last stretch, she dropped his jacket, leapt to her feet and plunged into the water. She was chin-deep when they met. His arms crushed around her as he gasped for breath, and she almost tumbled backward into the waves.

  Regaining her balance, she told him, “The water is standing depth here.”

  He was aware enough to understand, so he lowered his feet while still hanging on to her. His bare torso was icy from swimming back without her magical protection.

  After a dozen ragged breaths, he choked out, “I overestimated how much strength I had left.”

  “What happened? I burned out my power and couldn’t tell if you were alive or dead.” She turned and began guiding him toward shore, her arm around his waist. “Much less what happened to Krieger and the Grail. Did he escape?”

  “No.” David stumbled as he made it to the beach and folded down onto the sand just beyond the range of the waves. She saw that he had Krieger’s canvas bag.

  “I have the Grail.” He pulled the dripping bag over his head. “Krieger tried to strangle me with magic, so I reached for the chalice power, like you said. It saved me, and then . . . it destroyed his dark magic.”

  She gasped. “Permanently?”

  “I’m pretty sure. The chalice seems to put knowledge directly into my mind.” After a shuddering breath, David added, “Krieger asked me to kill him, but I couldn’t. The Grail does not serve death.”

  “Good God!” And never had Jane said those words more truly. She extended a hesitant hand. “May I see it?”

  “Please do. I want to see the chalice, too, after chasing it halfway across Scotland.”

  Jane knelt beside him and reverently unfastened the canvas straps that kept the bag closed. The largest interior pocket held a cylindrical object wrapped in a thick towel. Even her scorched mind sensed its radiance.

  Hands shaking, she unwound the object. Her first impression was of a brilliant white rose formed of pure light. As she gazed in wonder, she realized that within the phantom rose was a simply shaped chalice of metal. Silver? There was a dent or two.

  “I can’t quite believe it’s real,” she said huskily. “But it’s impossible to see the chalice without realizing that it’s sacred. To me, it looks like a rose formed of white light, and at the same time, a silver goblet.”

  “I see the chalice inside a blazing white star.” David touched the rim with awed fingertips. “I suppose each of us sees it a little differently. I wonder how Krieger saw the Grail? I can’t even imagine.”

  Jane frowned thoughtfully. “If I had to guess, I’d say the Grail veiled itself from him. He would have felt its power, but not seen the brilliance of its light.”

  “He was unable to use the Grail’s energy,” David said. “When he attacked me, it was with his own magic.”

  “If my mother were here, she’d want to know whether the Grail is Christian or Celtic or both, as she’s speculated.” Jane cupped her palm around the bowl of the chalice, and healing energy flowed through her. The scorched and exhausted fabric of her spirit began to heal into peace and joy.

  Something more than joy stirred within her. She looked up into David’s gaze, and saw her feelings mirrored in him. She placed her other hand on the chilled flesh of his chest. “You’re freezing, and I know just the way to warm you up.”

  Gently she tucked the chalice back inside the bag. Then she leaned into David with a kiss. His cool lips warmed under her mouth, and he pulled her down to the sand.

  He breathed, “I’m warming up fast.”

  Trousers were good for chasing sacred artifacts, not so good for making love. Every moment that clothing separated them seemed like a moment wasted, so she stripped with frantic hands as he kissed each new bit of her body that was revealed.

  They came together with heat and longing and light.
In the croft they had made love to increase their power to save the Grail. This mating was joyful celebration. When David slid into her, she laughed with delight and pressed hard against him.

  As she’d said in the croft, a relationship needn’t be forever to be real and true. Nothing she had ever known was truer than this moment. Passion cascaded through her, burning higher and higher until she shattered into glorious pieces, taking him with her.

  They lay locked together as bodies and souls recovered. “I feel more whole than ever in my life,” Jane murmured.

  “So do I.” David’s gaze went to the sky. “The storm is gone and the sun is out. The world really is warmer, not just me. But it’s still awfully chilly to be lying on a Scottish beach in one’s skin.”

  “I’m not looking forward to putting on wet clothes and getting into a biplane again, but I don’t suppose there’s much choice.” Jane grinned. “I think this little episode answers my mother’s question about whether the Christian chalice and the Celtic cauldron have merged their energies. The way fertility and passion were invoked, the answer must be yes.”

  “An unacademic answer to an academic question,” David said with a grin. “Is there any chance we might get tea at a nearby house? I noticed a little farmstead just before we landed.”

  “Good thought.” Warmth and food would both be very welcome. Jane pulled on her wet underwear and other garments. Every stitch was saturated. “What excuse do we have for being fools enough to be out in that storm?”

  He thought a moment. “I’m a Canadian RAF pilot on leave. You’re the sister of a mate of mine, and you offered to show me some of Scotland. We were forced down because of the storm, and because it’s an open plane, we got very, very wet.”

  “Excellent,” she said admiringly. “And more or less true. As long as no one wonders what we were doing between landing and seeking them out.”