Peter looked perplexed. “Loony-bird?"
"Cracked, crazy, addled."
Peter drew himself up to his full height. He stared coldly, first at Ben, then at her. “I am not addled. I am a mage. A wielder of magic. I have the mark of the Power's chosen.” He touched the blue birthmark on his cheek. “You do too, Regan. Kelsey told me of the mark on your shoulder."
Ben grabbed the man's arm. “Regan, dial 911."
Peter stiffened. He dropped his gaze to the hand that gripped his arm, then raised it and stared into Ben's eyes. “Release me."
For a moment, their eyes locked. Then Ben let go. Peter turned to the door. “So be it."
"Wait,” Regan said. “You're not going anywhere, not until I have some answers."
He stopped, his frame going stiff at the command in her voice.
Regan closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Please. Just give us a minute."
Peter nodded.
"Ben, can I talk to you in the kitchen?"
She felt Peter's searching appraisal on her back as they left the room.
"What do you think?” she whispered while she watched the stranger through the cracked door. He didn't move from where he stood, but she saw his gaze sweep the room.
Ben shrugged. “I don't know. He seems to believe what he's saying."
"I know, and that scares me,” Regan said. “We can still call the cops. But what if he has Kelsey, or at least knows who does? They could kill her if he doesn't come back."
"Regan, it's been seven years. Who would hold someone that long?"
Regan shrugged. “Maybe she's had amnesia or something."
"You're sure that's Kelsey's pendant?"
"It's Kelsey's,” she said, a quiver in her voice.
Ben looked into her eyes. “What does your gut instinct tell you?"
"That's what's crazy. I know I can trust him.” She rubbed at her temples. “But I can't know. How can I? And all that drivel about rifts and other worlds? It isn't possible—is it?"
Ben said nothing. Regan took a deep breath. “Okay, we'll play along until he leads us to Kelsey, then ... well, we'll just have to see.” She opened the kitchen door and motioned to Peter. “We'll listen, but I don't promise anything."
* * * *
The four sat in the kitchen around a white tile table, Maggie at Ben's feet, her brown gaze fixed on the stranger. Regan faced Peter across a wicker basket filled with rose potpourri. “You have fifteen minutes."
He arched an eyebrow. “Fifteen minutes? You are very gracious."
Regan ignored his sarcasm. “You're wasting time."
"May I have the pendant?” She handed it to him. He dangled the pendant from its chain before them, and she felt a twinge of unease. Was he going to try to hypnotize them or something?
"Daradawn is a different world from yours. It's a land of innocence and dreams, or at least it was.” His eyes focused on the swaying pendant. “You have both been there, but only in peaceful sleep. First as children, when you could still believe.” He raised the pendant higher. “It is a magic land, where a pendant like this channels power, both good and evil."
He leaned toward Regan. “A land where an elf may greet you as you enter an enchanted glade. Where dwarves still work the mines, and a dragon rules the mountain peaks."
"That's crazy.” Regan interrupted. She pushed her chair back and stood. “I've had dreams of magical lands and make-believe. All children do, but that's all it is. It isn't real."
Peter sat back in his chair. “Daradawn is real, and Kelsey is there."
She shook her head. “If you came here, why couldn't she?"
"Kelsey has sworn allegiance to Queen Tessa. She will not journey home until Dirkk is defeated."
"That sounds like Kelsey,” she murmured. “She'd never break a promise, even if it meant missing a chance to come home.” She frowned and shook her head. “What am I thinking? I don't believe any of this stuff. And who's Dirkk?” she asked.
"Dirkk is Baron of Cornith. He deals with the Dark One."
She shook her head again. “You need help."
"Yes, I need help ... yours."
Regan placed her palms flat on the table and leaned toward him. “Okay. I've listened to your story and I'm not buying it. Here's how it's going to play out. You give me my sister's pendant, tell us where she is, and we let you walk away."
He stared into Regan's eyes for a moment, then shook his head. “Kelsey was wrong. We will do fine without you.” Peter pushed back his chair and stood.
Regan's lips tightened as she held out her hand. “I want the pendant."
Peter closed his fist around the stone. “I may not be taking you, but I am taking Kelsey's talisman back."
Regan felt a chill travel the length of her backbone. “You're not leaving here without telling me where my sister is."
"I have told you, but you will not listen. I have no more time to waste on you. So, yes, I am leaving."
"I'll have you arrested before you've gone a mile."
Peter touched the blue flame on his cheek. “Nothing will stop me from returning to my world."
Regan felt an urge to laugh. What did he think he could do against bullets? Peter turned toward the door and she reached for the phone. I guess we're going to find out, she decided.
"Regan,” Ben said, grabbing her hand. “Wait. Earlier he mentioned the Mountain of the Devil, Mount Diablo. Crazy things have been going on up there."
"Oh, come on,” she said, pulling her hand from his. “You're not buying into his story?"
"But the fog and the cold. They don't know what's causing it.” He leaned toward her as he spoke.
Regan drew back and frowned, then turned back to Peter. “Just how long have you been here?"
"I came through yesterday. That's why I must hurry. The rift will remain open for seven days, and then it closes again for seven years."
Regan frowned. “All this weirdness with the weather started yesterday and there was that blackout this morning. Could your so-called rift be causing it?"
"There are seven rifts into your world. Was there unusual weather in as many places seven years ago?"
The weather? How the hell could she remember the weather? It was all she could do to get through the pain of each day. Wait, she did remember something. “We had lots of rain. The American River nearly flooded, then in a week it all just stopped."
"The quakes,” Ben said, “Regan, remember the quakes. Seven of them, worldwide, along with those volcano eruptions."
"I'd forgotten them."
Regan looked at the pendant, and all of a sudden it became so easy. She had only one choice. If he had Kelsey, it didn't matter if he was crazy or not. And you've trusted him with your life before, a little voice at the back of her memory said. She ignored it; it had nothing to do with her decision. He had Kelsey, and Regan wanted her back. “I'm going with him. Will you take care of things until I get back, Ben?"
He looked from Peter to Regan. “No, we can't stay here."
"This is your home."
"No,” Ben said. “Maggie and I are coming with you."
Sudden tears flooded Regan's eyes. “Why?” she asked in a choked voice. “You don't even know Kelsey."
"No, but I've seen you sit and stare at her photo. If I can help bring your sister home, I will."
She swallowed. “I appreciate it, but I can't let you. What if it's dangerous?"
"Dangerous? But you are going.” Ben pointed at Peter. “He tells you he knows where your sister is and you drop everything and go. Why?"
Regan touched the pendant in Peter's hand. “He has this."
"He could have gotten it anywhere. Even off her dead body."
Regan gasped and drew back.
"I'm sorry, but it could be the truth. So why are you going with him?"
She shot a quick glance at Peter. “You know why. I told you earlier."
"I know what you told me, but there's more."
Regan frowned
at Ben. “I don't know what you mean?"
"You trust this man. Why?"
"I don't know why,” she snapped.
Ben reached for the pendant. “May I?” Peter hesitated, then handed the pendant to him.
Ben took Regan's clenched hand, opened it, and dropped the pendant into her palm. He closed her hand around the stone, then drew it up to rest against his heart. “We're going with him because in here we still believe in magic. It was magic that brought us together, and it's magic that will take us to your sister."
Regan twisted her hand in Ben's grip. “I don't believe in magic."
"Don't you?"
Regan stared into Ben's dark eyes, the question echoing in her. Do I? she wondered.
"Then you will come?” Peter asked.
Regan looked at Ben. He nodded, his eyes urging her to do the same. She took a deep breath. “We'll come."
At their nods, Peter relaxed back in his chair for a moment, then surged to his feet. “Then we must hurry. Regan, get your power spells and the milk-stone ear drops."
Regan stared at him. “I've no power spells."
"You have a small leather book full of them. Kelsey told me of it."
"I have a book of jingles, but..."
"Jingles. Yes, that is what Kelsey said. Please fetch them."
Shaking her head, Regan pulled her hand from Ben's. “What's a little more craziness?” she said as she dashed from the kitchen.
Peter looked at Ben.
"What?"
"You and the animal I had not planned on.” Peter eyed Maggie. “What kind of dog is that?"
"Maggie's a basset hound. She's the only breed of her kind that's a true dwarf.” Ben patted Maggie's head.
"A dwarf?” Peter leaned closer to peer at Maggie. “It is a sign. Yes, the two of you must accompany us.
* * * *
Regan hesitated at the top of the stairs and stared at the pendant she still held. “Kelsey, I don't know where you are, or who this Peter is, but this is yours. Just hold on. No matter what world you're in, I'm coming."
Chapter 5
An avalanche of rocks and dirt rolled and bounced down the bank on Kelsey's left. Her sword double-gripped in her hand, she whipped around and searched the cloud of dust. A form stumbled toward her, its hand reaching out. She twisted away, raising her sword high. The figure lifted its head and Kelsey looked into startling blue eyes wide with anguish. Blue eyes? Ru'taha only have black eyes, she thought. She lowered her sword and lunged forward as the form crumpled.
Her knees buckled under the soldier's weight. Cursing, she squirmed from beneath the body, then heaved the man onto his back. She glanced around warily, but the main battle was on the rise above them. She laid her sword aside, felt for a heartbeat, and found one, slight and irregular. With a trembling hand, she wiped dirt from his face. Oh, God. It was the young recruit of last night.
Tears threatened, and she shook her head as she blinked them away. Why tears for him? His is just one more face that will haunt me.
His blood-caked hand fumbled for hers. He sat up and reached to touch her cheek. “Mama?” he whispered, then went rigid, fell back, and was still.
Kelsey gathered his body to her breast and rocked him back and forth. “I didn't get the chance to end your soldiering,” she whispered. “Damn you, Dirkk."
Above her, a horn sounded charge. She longed to stay there, to say to hell with it all and just hold him, but the battle's outcome was still questionable and her concern had to be for the living, not the dead.
Kelsey stood and dragged his body beneath a shaggy bush, making note of where it lay. “They won't have you. I'll come back. I promise."
She picked up her sword, and sprinted toward the rise.
* * * *
Kelsey collapsed into the chair. She stared, unseeing across the tent. They had bested Dirkk yet again, but the cost was much, too damn much. Someone scratched at the tent flap. “Enter."
Her adjutant pushed the flap aside. “I've brought Helena."
"Has she seen to the others?"
A smooth-faced woman pushed aside the young man and walked in. Her dark green gown was splotched with dried blood. Her silver hair had escaped its tight braid and hung in damp, limp strands against her forehead and cheeks. Helena shook her head at the sight of Kelsey. “Again you've been in the midst of things."
Kelsey stood, then grabbed for a table as the world tilted. Helena and the adjutant leapt forward. Gripping Kelsey's elbows, they led her to the cot and forced her to sit. Kelsey winced as Helena's knowing hands moved over her body.
"Someday I will not be able to heal you.” Helena's voice was ripe with censure.
"Is this the day?” Kelsey said.
She groaned as Helena probed a knee joint more roughly than usual before answering. “You will mend.” She turned to the adjutant who hovered at the tent's flap. “Bring my bag and be quick about it.” She turned back to Kelsey. “Does that young man have a name?"
Kelsey lifted a startled gaze to her. “Of course. Why?"
"You never call him by such."
Kelsey frowned. “His name is Michael,” she said, ignoring Helena's sharp gaze.
"Avoiding his name will not keep him alive. And the pain, if he dies, will be just as strong."
The tent flap opened and the adjutant entered with a green creased bag.
"Thank you, Michael,” Kelsey said.
The young man stared at her a moment in surprise, then smiled. “You are welcome, Queen's-Commander. Will that be all?"
Kelsey waved him away.
She turned and caught Helena's satisfied smile just before the healer ducked her head and reached for the bag. “We will deal with the pain first."
* * * *
Thirty minutes later Kelsey blinked and knuckled her eyes. “What did that witch give me?"
Rourk stuck his head through the tent flap. “We have to talk."
Kelsey yawned and waved him inside.
He hesitated. “You need your rest."
"I will rest.” She yawned again. “Helena has given me no choice."
Rourk entered and moved to where she sat at the table. He reached out to draw her close, then drew back and lowered his arms. “They don't stop coming,” he said bitterly. “For every Ru'taha or Black Viper we kill, two more take their place."
She sighed. She wanted his arms around her, if only for a moment. “Do we still hold the valley?"
"We've been pushed into its wide heart."
Kelsey's fingers curled tightly around the quill pen. “Put every man on the line."
"Even those who sleep?"
"All, or our sleep may be for eternity."
Rourk turned on his heel. “Yes, Queen's-Commander.” He strode from the tent.
Kelsey stared at the swaying tent flap. Her heavy eyelids drifted shut. She snapped them open, but knew it was a losing battle. “Damn you, Helena."
She lowered her head to the table. “Hurry, Regan."
Chapter 6
Regan loosened the red-velvet bag's drawstring and poured her great-grandmother's opal earrings into her hand. The milk-white stones flashed sparks of color where the Tiffany lamp's light touched. How many times had she and Kelsey perched on the edge of their mother's bed and watched as she sat at this same dressing table and put the earrings on. Then, her reflection smiling, she would reach for the pendant and ask whose turn it was to fasten the clasp.
A knot formed in Regan's throat and she swallowed hard. She put the earrings back into the bag and added the pendant.
What do you pack if you don't know where you're going? she mused. What does one wear to meet an elf or dwarf? She grabbed her pocket notebook and flipped to the last sketched-on page, frowning at the date written there. Thirty days. Had it been that long since she'd added something new? Shaking her head, she grabbed a baggy denim jacket and shoved the notebook and the velvet bag into the pockets.
At the top of the stairs Regan leaned over the oak banister and look
ed down. Peter, Ben and Maggie huddled together in the foyer.
Peter glanced up and motioned to her. “Hurry, the walk is far."
Regan jogged down the stairs, brushed by them and headed toward the kitchen. “We're not walking."
As she passed the front door, the bell chimed. “Now who's here?” she said, back-stepping. Looking through the round window, she groaned.
"Who is it?” Ben asked.
"Jack."
"Do you want me to get rid of him?"
Regan hesitated, then sighed. “No. I'll handle him."
She opened the door. “What are you pulling, Jack? You're not supposed to be within a mile of me."
Her ex-husband ran fingers through his shaggy black mane. The dampness caused his hair to wave along his forehead. Regan reached to brush the curls into place, then jerked her hand back.
Jack smiled knowingly and she felt her face heat. “Can I come in?” he asked.
"Are you nuts? I could have you arrested."
He stepped closer, towering over her. “But you won't. I brought you another check."
"You're supposed to mail it."
Jack peered over her shoulder into the hall. His body stiffened. “Who's the hippie?"
"None of your business."
"One of your handyman's friends?” He sneered the question.
Regan reached out her hand. “Give me the check, but this is the last time you will deliver it in person. Is that understood?"
In the light from the sconce she saw Jack's face flush. A muscle twitched along his jaw line, and fear tingled through her.
"Regan, you okay?” Ben asked.
"Mind your own business, old man,” Jack said.
"The check,” Regan said. She watched him take a deep breath, fight for control.
"Right, the check. I need to talk to you about that. Business has been slow this month."
Regan flinched as she heard the whine enter his voice. Not again, she thought. “Whatever you can spare is fine,” she said, still holding out her hand.
Jack took a step back from her. “I'll just bring it by tomorrow, so we can talk about it."
Didn't he understand what a restraining order was? Regan lowered her hand. “Jack...” she stopped and smiled. “Okay, bring it by tomorrow. Now it's late."
The Blue Flame [Book 1 of the Daradawn Series] Page 3
