He motioned with his head. “He spending the night?"
"I don't answer to you anymore, remember?"
He leaned forward. “I'd watch that smart mouth of yours, Regan,” he said, his voice just above a whisper. She stepped back and closed the door.
"Yeah? Well, I'll see you tomorrow, early,” he yelled through the closed door.
Hand trembling on the doorknob, Regan watched him cross the street. At the streetlight, he stopped, leaned against it, and lit a cigarette.
"Let's get out of here,” she said.
FOG SHROUDED THE back yard. Regan shivered. This is a night for popcorn and fireplaces, not late night jaunts, she thought.
She led them to the side gate. To the left, through a tunnel of overgrown oleanders, a dark narrow driveway stretched.
The garage was a pale square in the blackness at the end of the tunnel. She bent, grabbed the garage door's rust-pitted handle, twisted and pulled. The door screeched up on ancient hinges, then settled overhead with a dull clank. She felt around for the light switch.
Wan light filtered through a bug-spotted bulb hanging from the ceiling by a twisted, frayed wire. Beneath the dangling fire hazard, a blue Honda Civic waited.
"It'll be a tight fit, but it's better than walking,” she said.
Regan unlocked the passenger door. Pulling the seat forward, she said, “Maggie, wanna go for a ride?” Maggie scrambled in. Turning, the dog gave a yip in Ben's direction and Regan laughed. “Hear that, Ben? Sounded like a command to get moving didn't it?"
"It sure did.” Ben climbed in and settled next to Maggie.
Regan walked around to the driver's side and started the car. She twisted a knob and headlights caught Peter in their bright beam. He stood frozen, like a pillar of salt, his wide eyes fastened on the car.
"What's the problem?” Regan said.
"You wish me to get into that?"
"Yes, and now."
"It is a devil machine. See how it smokes."
"It smokes because it needs a tune-up. Now get in."
"I will meet you there.” He turned away.
Regan counted to ten. “Peter, it's a car. It won't hurt you."
"Not hurt me? I saw what happened to two of them that came together."
"That was them, not me. Come on, get in. You were the one who said we had to hurry. I can get us to Mount Diablo in thirty minutes. How long will it take you to walk?"
Peter shook his head and Regan took a slow, deep breath. “Look, you're the only person who can lead me to my sister. Do you think I'd let anything happen to you?"
Peter stared at her for a long moment, then he walked to the passenger door and looked in. Closing his eyes, he muttered words that sounded like Latin and climbed into the car.
Regan reached over and fastened the seat belt around him. “Relax."
She pushed in the clutch and put the Honda in reverse.
"Why do you secure me in place if it is so safe?” Peter asked.
"It's the law, and I don't want a ticket.” She backed the Honda out of the garage and down the narrow driveway. She hid a grin as she saw Peter's white-knuckled grip on the dash.
On Laguna Street, she turned left and headed for the Bay Bridge.
Chapter 7
THEY LEFT THE fog behind along with the Bay Bridge and took the 580 interchange, then Highway 24 toward Orinda. A full white moon floated above them.
Regan's stomach grumbled and she realized it was hours since she'd eaten. She gave Peter a quick glance. “Something's bothering me. If you're from another world, how do you speak our language?"
"I do not understand what you mean."
"You speak English. Why don't you speak Daradawnian or something?"
"I speak Ancient Speech."
She glanced at him again. “Ancient speech?"
"There is only one language for all."
"You're saying that everyone in your world speaks the same language?” Regan leaned forward and swiped a terrycloth towel across the fogging windshield.
"It has been that way since my grandfather's grandfather. Some words of Old Elvish and Ancient Dwarven are still known, mostly curses against the Dark One, but Ancient Speech is what all speak now. Your world has different languages?"
"Lots of different ones.” She tossed the towel to Peter. “Here, do your side."
He wiped the windshield clear. “Then how do you understand each other?"
Regan grinned. “We don't."
He settled back in the seat, shaking his head. “Your world is very strange."
"Yeah, I guess in a lot of ways it is.” She changed lanes and accelerated by a Shell gasoline truck. “What can we expect when we get there?"
"The rift is not easily seen. It is more of a feeling. Your senses tingle and the hair on your body rises."
Regan slowed, checked the rearview mirror, then slid into the right lane and passed a crawling Volkswagen van. “No, I mean the area around Mount Diablo. There are going to be reporters and government big shots up the wazoo after today's paper."
"Wa-zoo? Is that a local name for the mountain?"
Regan grinned straight ahead. “Just means lots of people."
"Interesting word. The area was empty yesterday."
"Well, you can bet it won't be now. We need some kind of plan. They're not just gonna let us drive through."
"We will get by."
"Yeah, right.” Regan switched lanes and accelerated by a slat-bedded truck that hauled cattle, from the odor that blasted from the vents into her face.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Peter face her. “You do not understand. The closer I get to the mountain and the rift, the stronger the Power becomes. You must stop resisting and let the Power be free within you."
Regan cast a quick glance at him. “Well, if you don't mind, I'd like a back-up plan.” She saw Peter stiffen at her sarcastic tone and shrugged mentally. “Ben, you're quiet back there. What do you think?"
He shrugged. “I don't know. We play it by ear, I guess."
A green sign that read “Alamo, 3 Miles,” flashed by. “That's as good as we have time for."
* * * *
Regan exited at Alamo, rounded a curve, and swore under her breath as she stomped the brake to the floorboard. The car's back tires squealed before catching and coming to a halt.
At the end of the off-ramp, the red-lighted intersection was daylight-bright with tall portable lights. A crowd of people moved in and out of the light like scurrying ants. She heard clipped orders of direction through the rolled-up windows of the car.
Regan pulled the Civic over to the shoulder. “So now what?"
"Give me a moment, then go through them."
"Say what?"
Peter closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and stared straight ahead. “Go. Now."
"Sure, why not? If they stop us, this insanity's over.” Regan pressed her foot down slowly on the accelerator and the Civic crept forward. They inched toward a petite blonde-haired woman in a powder-blue suit. She waved a microphone like a baton and shouted orders at a man with a video camera.
"Hey, isn't that the lady from Channel 3?” Ben said. “She looks better on TV."
The woman turned and glared in their direction.
"Uh-oh, this is where you-know-what hits the fan,” Ben said, slouching in his seat.
The woman continued her tirade at the camera operator, oblivious to the passing Honda.
"Well, I'll be damned,” Ben said.
Beyond the news van, men in army fatigue uniforms hurried. Each carried a black box covered with glowing dials. To the left, a state police car blocked the entrance to the park.
"Regan,” Peter said, his voice a forced whisper. “I am weak. You have to help."
Regan jerked her head around and glared at him. “Help? How? Don't you dare dump this on me. You brought us..."
"Be still,” Peter said. “The rift is close; you have to feel the Power. Empty your mind; find your center of
peace. That's where the Power is."
"How many times do I have to say it? I don't have any power.” She stopped the car. “I'll just back up and get us out of here. By morning maybe they'll have cleared out. Then we can give it another try."
"No,” Peter said. “We cannot waste the time. If you will not help, I will try to get us to the top of the mountain.” Peter's hands, pressing against the dash of the car, trembled. The trembling moved up his arms until his whole upper body vibrated. She looked at the police car. The officer's head was turned away from them, but for how long?
"Damn,” she said, then filled her mind with images of Kelsey. Kelsey as a child, riding her bike. Kelsey as a teenager, getting her first camera. Kelsey as she had last seen her, laughing and waving as she boarded an airplane. A small circle of warmth built in the pit of her stomach and spread upwards.
"That is it. Now give me your hand and feed it to me,” Peter's voice said from far away. And then someone was shaking her shoulder.
"All right, all right, I'm awake.” she said, thrusting the hand aside and opening her eyes. She blinked. Where in the hell were they? The car sat on the side of the road beneath two oak trees. Far below, lights lit the night. “B-b-but how?"
"You used the Power,” Peter said.
She turned in her seat and met Ben's wide-eyed gaze. He nodded his head. Maggie wiggled out of his arms to nuzzle Regan with a cold nose.
"I don't remember anything. I was thinking of Kelsey, then someone was shaking my shoulder."
Peter fumbled with the belt that held him in place. “Come, we have no time to waste. The rift is just beyond the trees.” He cursed under his breath, then dropped the metal buckle back into his lap. “Will someone free me?"
Ben leaned over, released the seat belt, and opened the car door. Peter scrambled out as if he thought the car would try to hold him hostage. He looked across the Civic's bucket seat to where Regan still sat.
"Regan?"
She stared at her hands that clasped the steering wheel, then raised her gaze to Peter. “I can't move them."
"It is a reaction from the use of the Power. Without the Power you gave me, I would not be able to stand for an hour. Your strength will return soon, and as you become stronger the after-effects will lessen."
Peter circled to the driver's side. “Let me help.” He reached in, gently unclasped her hands from the wheel, then rubbed her numbed fingers. “Is the life returning?"
"Yes, they seem almost normal."
Ben and Maggie climbed out of the car and walked to stand at Peter's side.
"Time's a wasting,” Regan said. She pivoted in her seat and placed her feet on the ground.
"Regan, wait!” Peter cried as she stood, then pitched forward into his arms. “Legs always take a little longer,” he said, his warm breath stirring the hair at her temple.
She flushed. “Jeez, I'm sorry."
"Here, I'll take her,” Ben said.
"Of course.” Peter handed her to him.
"I don't need to be ‘taken’ by anybody,” she said. “Just give me a minute."
"You will need more than a minute and we need to keep moving,” Peter said. “I do not know how long the spell will work on those below."
Ben swung Regan up into his arms.
"Hey, come on, I'm too heavy,” she said, pushing against his chest.
"I've carried sacks of groceries heavier than you.” He looked at Peter. “Lead on."
With Maggie at his heels, Peter set off at a quick pace through the darkness.
Regan watched them walk away. “Do you think Kelsey is up here?"
"I don't know. Do we follow?"
"My head says get in the car and go home."
Ben looked down into her eyes. “The two of you used something to get us through those people and by the cop car. What's it to be?"
Regan stared into the dark. “We stick with him."
Ben turned and followed Peter.
Regan's senses came alive in the night. The air was ripe with the scent of damp grass and mud. Every hair on her body quivered. A tingle itched the soles of her feet. “Do you feel it?"
"Yes,” Ben replied.
Maggie raced back to them and skidded to a stop in a splash of moonlight. Her tail wagged so hard her body shook.
"Maggie feels it too,” Ben said.
They crested the hill and ahead of them, in a stretch of pale light, Peter waited. He motioned them to follow, then walked into a wall of solid black and vanished.
"My God,” Regan gasped.
"Step through,” Peter's voice called from inside the dark wall. Ben looked a question at Regan. Swallowing, she nodded, and he stepped into the darkness. For the space of two heartbeats they existed in a senseless void. Then they were stepping out into a field filled with sun and swaying blue flowers.
Peter stood a few feet away from them, and he was not alone. A short, compact man, dressed in shades of autumn, stood next to him. The stranger turned to face them, and Regan saw that he had a bristling white beard. The beard stopped just short of a wide, silver-linked belt that circled his ample middle. A double-bladed axe rested on the ground in front of him. The axe's polished head reached as high as his waist.
"Ben, do you know what he is?"
"If my picture books were right, a dwarf."
"A real dwarf,” Regan said.
Peter looked up, saw them standing wide-eyed with their mouths hanging open and smiled. “Regan, Ben, let me introduce you to Angus."
Ben lowered Regan to her feet and the two of them, with Maggie at their heels, walked forward.
Silver eyes surrounded by pale, creased skin scrutinized them. Bushy white eyebrows rose as he pointed at Maggie. “What in the queen's name is that?"
"A dwarf from the other side,” Peter said.
"A dwarf dog?” Angus walked around Maggie and examined her from every angle. Maggie stood frozen as he circled her, her tail ramrod straight. He stopped in front of her, nodded, and laid his hand on her head. “She's a credit to her ancestors."
Ben stepped forward and thrust his hand down to Angus. The dwarf tipped his head back to meet the black man's eyes. “My boy, where did you find this dark giant?"
"It was destiny. He and the dwarf dog were at the apprentice's dwelling when I arrived."
"The apprentice.” His silvery gaze turned to Regan. “Is she as strong as Kelsey said?"
"Strong, but untrained, and we have little time."
"Excuse me,” Regan said, looking from one to the other with a slight frown, “but I don't like being spoken of as if I'm not here."
"Forgive my rudeness. Angus, this is Regan Cafferty, Kelsey's sister."
"Aye, I can tell. Wait until Darrian sees her. He still hasn't forgiven Kelsey for turning down his proposal."
"Darrian is a fool. His father would never allow an alliance with a human. It is only because of Dirkk and Margeaux that they deign to join with us at all."
"I know that, but he is young and randy as a goat and he will want this one, too. What will...?"
"Wait,” Regan said, “Who's this Darrian, and what does he have to do with Kelsey?"
"Darrian is an elven princeling with an eye for beauty,” Peter said.
She laughed. “But I'm not beautiful."
Angus'ss gaze swept over Regan. “I think it's the odd clothes they wear. Why do you wear a man's face on your chest? Is he your God?"
"What?” Regan glanced down at Garth Brooks’ face as Ben snorted loudly. “I guess he is to some, but no, he isn't mine."
"I have the apprentice's garb and a robe Ben is welcome to,” Peter said. “The little dog is a bigger problem."
"You are a mage,” Angus said, “just tell anyone who asks that she is a spell gone wrong."
Regan knelt beside the basset hound and pulled her close. “Don't you talk that way about her.” She glared at the dwarf. “Are you a screwed-up spell?"
Angus opened his mouth, but no words came.
Regan stoo
d. “Now, what about my sister? I want to see her, now."
Angus's jaw dropped and Ben grinned down at his feet.
"D-d-do you know who you're making demands of, woman?” the dwarf said. “This is Peter Canterville, High Mage to Queen Tessa."
Regan looked the dwarf straight in the eye. “I don't care if he's the Pope."
Angus's gaze swiveled to Peter. “The what?"
Peter shrugged. “As you can see, she has Kelsey's fire."
Regan cut in. “Just where is my sister? I thought she'd be here to meet us."
Angus and Peter exchanged a quick glance. “You will see her soon,” Peter said, “that is, if you will allow us to lead you to her?” Without a word, Peter turned and walked away from her. Ben winked at Regan and grinned, then followed Peter.
She watched their retreating backs, then glanced at Angus. The dwarf stared after Peter and Ben, then back to her. He slowly stroked his beard. With a shake of his head, he hoisted his axe.
"I guard Peter's back and, as long as you travel with us, I guard yours, too,” he said, then stood and stared at her.
"What?” she asked when he did not move.
He jerked his head in the direction of Peter and Ben.
Regan opened her mouth, then snapped it shut and started after the others, slapping her hand against her leg for Maggie to follow. The basset hound whined and Regan stopped and looked back. Maggie still sat at Angus's feet.
Angus looked down at the dog. “Can I keep Maggie with me?"
"Why not?” Regan said, with a shrug.
Angus reached down with his hand and scratched behind Maggie's ear. “Aye, me girl, we dwarves must stick together."
Chapter 8
REGAN PAUSED AND wiped her face with her T-shirt, then glanced up into the sky. From where the sun rode, it looked to be an hour or so until dusk. Look how blue that sky is, she mused, just like the sky in the High Sierras after a spring rain. She shaded her eyes and stared toward the heat-blurred line of trees in the distance. They had been crossing the field for at least an hour and they still seemed no closer.
Ben stopped beside her.
"Did you notice these flowers?” Regan asked. “They look like California poppies, but they're a pale pink.” She reached out and brushed her fingers across a velvet petal. “They almost feel like skin.” The flowers rose hip-high on green stalks that were the diameter of her middle finger. Their centers were dark, like the pupil of an eye, and they seemed to sway and follow her as she passed.
The Blue Flame [Book 1 of the Daradawn Series] Page 4
