Riftkeepers: Pursuit

by Carrie Whitethorne

  “Charlotte,” he said, before she could take a step out of his chamber. “I'm sorry, for my part in this. Please, forgive me.”

  She turned, tears in her eyes and nodded.

  There's nothing to forgive, Taran. This is my mess. I just need your help clearing it up.

  Before she lost her composure altogether, she hurried through the door.

  Enya was ready for bed and cuddled on the sofa with Caoimhe when they got to their suite.

  Callan shook his head as Caoimhe asked if there was any news. Her eyes shone with tears that she'd been managing to hold back in front of Enya.

  “We're going to see Rona in the morning,” he said, lifting Enya and sitting on the sofa. She cuddled into his shoulder but didn't speak.

  “Rona? Didn't she vow to never look again?” Caoimhe asked, surprised.

  “She did, but we have to try,” Charlotte said, leaning to kiss Enya's exposed cheek. “You okay, baby?”

  Caoimhe checked the clock on the wall, left the sofa and went into the kitchen. Charlotte took her place on the sofa and shuffled closer to her.

  Enya nodded, and asked, “You didn't find him?” Her flat, dejected tone made Charlottes heart ache.

  “Not yet but we're going to see an old friend of Grandad's who might be able to help,” she said gently. “All the druids, Uncle Dagda and his friends, Dane and his friends are out searching. He'll be home soon.”

  They sat quietly together for a few minutes, Enya cuddled into Callan, Charlotte gently stroking her back.

  “She's asleep,” Callan said softly. “I'll take her through. Ma's just dealing with dinner.”

  She sat for a few moments, head tipped back, eyes closed.

  He must be somewhere significant. What good is Zander to him in a place like the cottage he kept me in? He wants the power.

  “Do you need a hand?” she asked as Caoimhe carried stacks of bowls over to the dining table.

  “No, you rest. I made a broth this afternoon, I'll leave it out with rolls and butter and everyone can help themselves as they come to give updates,” she smiled kindly, turning to retrieve more cutlery and crockery.

  “How many will come directly here?” she called through.

  “Well, there's Dagda, Dane, Blair, Lukas, Anton, Carlie, Konrad and that quiet girl. What's her name?” she answered, returning with a stack of glasses.

  “Klara?” Charlotte got up and went into the kitchen for spoons as Callan came from the bedroom. He followed her and carried through rolls and butter, silently, and went back again for four large jugs of mead.

  “Yes, Klara. Alayna and I ate with Enya earlier,” Caoimhe added as she carried a large cast iron soup kettle through and settled it in the center of the table. “You should eat now, while its quiet. You too, Callan. I'll get the glasses.”

  Callan stood by the table, feet away from her, shoulders slumped. She went to him. His eyes met hers and for the first time she saw the depth of his grief. “I'm…”

  Shaking her head, the tears fell. “No. No, don't say you're sorry.” She buried her face in his shoulder, desperately trying to stop the tears.

  A gentle knock on the door brought Caoimhe from the kitchen. She opened it wide, allowing Dagda and Carlie to pass without a word.

  Callan cleared his throat, “Eat first.”

  Carlie looked exhausted, her hair a tangled mess, dark circles beneath her eyes. Callan handed her a large bowl of soup and said, “Sit before you fall. I'll pour you a drink.”

  She nodded, taking the bowl and sitting at the table. Dagda helped himself and they ate in silence.

  Dane arrived shortly afterwards with Lukas, Anton and Klara. Callan served them and they sat with Carlie and Dagda at the table. Pressing a bowl into Charlottes hands, Callan tilted his head toward the sofa. He joined her. Caoimhe welcomed Blair and made sure he was properly fed.

  When they were finished, Caoimhe cleared away their empty bowls and they arranged themselves around the coffee table on chairs from the dining table.

  “I'll take this to Dad and go to bed. I'll see you all in the morning for breakfast before you go back out,” Caoimhe said quietly.

  “Thank you,” Charlotte said.

  Everyone else thanked her for their meal and she stepped out.

  As the door clicked shut behind her, Dagda asked, “Anything?”

  Carlie took a long drink and shook her head. “The druids have split up. With the help from Houska we've good numbers. Some are staying out overnight. They'll switch first thing.”

  “Dane?”

  “We're positioned around the country and along the border. Nothing yet,” he said, shaking his head. He looked to Charlotte in apology.

  Thank you. Please get some rest now.

  I'm fine. We're fine.

  “Where do we go from here?” Dagda huffed. “Do you think they've gone south?”

  “We're going to Iona in the morning,” Callan said. “Rona's still there.”

  Dane raised his eyebrows but remained silent.

  “What makes you think the old crone will help?” Dagda muttered.

  “She didn't turn her back, Dagda, she just couldn't do enough last time,” Carlie said sadly. “She tried.”

  “She saw, there were just too many variables,” Dane said into his glass. “If anyone was going to See, it'd be Rona.”

  “If she has and didn't warn us I'll…”

  “Dagda, enough. If she has Seen she wouldn't want to say, not after last time,” Callan said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

  “What happened last time?” Charlotte asked.

  Dane answered, “She saw what happened in the bunker. She missed Konrad's father. We were too late to save him. She blamed herself, vowed never to look again and hid herself away on Iona.”

  “It isn't an exact science,” Carlie added. “Any information she gave was invaluable but missing that…”

  Charlotte looked down at her hands.

  She isn't going to help us.

  She will. She's a good woman and exceptionally gifted.

  We'll see.

  “Thank you, all, for what you're doing,” Charlotte said quietly.

  They each tipped their glasses to her.

  “We must get back,” Lukas said, placing a hand on Anton's shoulder. “We have first watch on the border.”

  Callan shook their hands, thanked them for their help and they left quickly.

  “I need some sleep. I'll see you at breakfast,” Carlie said, leaning over and kissing Charlotte on the cheek.

  “We need to see Dad,” Dagda said to Callan. “You too, Dane. He's been busy with the council so won't have had updates.”

  “Klara, can you stay with Lottie?” Dane asked.

  “Of course,” she smiled.

  When they'd gone, she turned to Charlotte and asked, “Do you need anything?”

  “No, thank you. Have you had enough to eat? There's plenty left.”

  Shaking her head, she said, “I couldn't eat anything more. I'm sorry we didn't find him today.”

  Charlotte was surprised at how quickly Klara had struck up conversation.

  “I'm sure one of us will, soon. Hopefully this Seer can point us in the right direction.”

  Klara nodded and asked, “Are you prepared? Lukas said you were, but, if I can help in any way with your combat skills, please, allow me.”

  “That's kind of you. I'm not much of a fighter, but, I think I could defend myself if I had to.” She huffed a small, humorless laugh, and added, “I will, eventually, have to.”

  Klara drained her glass and poured more mead from the jug on the table. “There are sufficient numbers to protect you, Princess.”

  “Please, call me Charlotte. I'm not a Princess, never will be,” she said, then leaned forward and filled her glass. “I'm just plain old Charlotte.”

  “You are mistaken, Charlotte. You are extraordinary. It's an honor to serve you.”

  She flinched. “Please. Work with me, but no-one serves me.�
��

  So much for not speaking much. It seems she just doesn't like crowds.

  Klara nodded, smiled and drank.

  “Dane is very worried. We all are. If there is anything I can do for you…”

  “There is,” she said, seriously. “Please, look after Dane. He's my only true friend here. I owe him my life. Please, keep him safe. You know how reckless he can be.”

  Klara smiled, “I shall certainly try.”

  When Callan and Dane returned from their meeting with Taran, Charlotte was exhausted. After thanking Klara and saying goodbye to Dane, she went to their room and changed for bed.

  Studying herself in the bathroom mirror, she let out a deep sigh.

  They'll find him. Someone is going to find him and he's going to be okay.

  She felt her power stir.

  All this and I couldn't keep him safe. Not one of us could.

  Callan came silently behind her, “Can I get you anything?” His voice was so heavy with emotion it almost cracked.

  Unable to speak, she pushed her thoughts to him.

  No, just you. Don't say anything, I know. I just need you.

  Kissing the top of her head, he wrapped his arms around her.

  I love you, Callan.

  “I love you,” he murmured, taking her hand and leading her into the bedroom.

  Not bothering to pull back the sheets, he lifted her gently into the bed, lying beside her. Tucked tightly against him, she finally allowed the tears to fall.

  Please let him be okay. Don't let them kill him.

  Callan didn't move, he didn't speak and didn't try to wipe her tears. He lay with her, sharing her pain. Lost in his own grief.

  I know you're as lost as I am. I'm sorry I can't be stronger.

  His arm tightened around her waist as he said, “We'll get some answers tomorrow. Try to sleep.”

  She woke in Enya's bed, the tiny girl cuddled in tight against her chest.

  When did he bring me in here?

  Glancing to Zanders bed, she saw Callan sprawled on top of the sheets still fully dressed from the night before.

  At least he's slept, too. Didn't think I would…

  She settled back down, listening to Enya's steady breathing.

  How is she dealing with this? They've never been apart and now she's suddenly alone. What about Zander? He'll be terrified.

  Forcing the thoughts from her mind, Charlotte composed herself ready for the day ahead. Not a single crack could show.

  If you let it out you're done. Callan holds it in, so can you. Just like all the times in hospital with Zander. Optimism, Charlotte.

  Callan shifted, groaning.

  Morning.

  He pushed up on one elbow and looked over to her. A small smile warmed his features as he looked at Enya, still fast asleep. “What time is it?”

  She shook her head and shrugged. The small movement disturbed Enya. “Shh, its only me.”

  “Mummy? Is Zander home?”

  Callan closed his eyes and sighed through his nose.

  “Not yet. We're going back out soon, I just came for a cuddle first,” she answered, keeping her voice steady and bright. “Daddy's here too.”

  Enya turned and smiled at him, “Morning daddy. Can I come with you today?”

  He sat up, shaking his head, “I'd rather you were safe here with Nanna.”

  Enya frowned, “Will aunty Alayna be here?”

  “Yes. All day. She's probably got something planned for you. It won't be that bad,” he smiled. “Come here and give me a hug before she comes for you.”

  Once they were showered and dressed, Callan took them down to the smaller dining room that Caoimhe had prepared for the search parties. Enya ate with Callan and Charlotte before Alayna arrived with Dane.

  “We'll be home at bed time again, sweetheart,” Charlotte said as she hugged her.

  Enya nodded, hugged Callan and took Alayna's hand.

  “Good luck with Rona,” Alayna said, glancing to Dane.

  “Thanks, we'll see you this evening,” Charlotte smiled.

  Thank you.

  Alayna nodded and led Enya from the room.

  “She's handling this well,” Dane said, piling a plate with sausages and bacon. “When do you leave for Iona?”

  “Soon,” Callan said, returning to the table and pouring another mug of coffee for himself and tea for Charlotte.

  “Give her my best, won't you?” Dane asked.

  Callan nodded and handed Charlotte her drink. “If she'll see us.”

  “She'll see you. She's a good woman,” Dane smiled. “I'm bringing Ferne up for a few days, Dagda's orders. She'll be staying in your house if that's okay?”

  “Yeah, that's fine. Why?” Charlotte asked.

  That's still a thing then.

  “He's just making sure she isn't targeted again. They won't dare return to Arran now so it's safe. Which room?”

  “There's a guest room, fifth door round,” Callan said. “She'll be comfortable in there. I'll have Aoife call in.”

  This is a complete shit storm. Hiding people!

  Leaving his mug on the table, Callan approached Charlotte and said, “I'm just going to see Dad, then we'll go.”

  She nodded, giving him a tight-lipped smile.

  Dane left his plate and crossed to her, pulling her into a hug. “She won't have straight answers. She only sees glimpses, so be very specific with your questions. Don't ask where he is, ask how to find him. She's more likely to get a glimpse of something that will help.”

  “Okay. What if she can't?”

  “She will. She's never let us down before. Ever. She can't see everything and its unfair of us to expect her to. Anything she has helps,” he said as he kissed her cheek and studied her, his brows pulled in.

  His concern was more unnerving than anyone's.

  I'm fine.

  I know.

  Chapter 26

  Iona was cold. Bitterly cold. The icy wind bit at her cheeks as she huddled deeper into her coat. Callan had brought them as far as the golf course and they walked to the location Taran had given them, to Rona's croft.

  “He was right, it is magically concealed. There isn't a building in sight,” Callan grumbled.

  “How do we find it, then?”

  “There's always a sign. It'll be small, insignificant, but it'll be here,” he squeezed her hand, stopped and looked around. “Let's head further north. Over by those hills.”

  She trudged beside him, lost in her own thoughts.

  Every hour we waste looking is an extra hour they have with him. More time to wear him down.

  What will they do if he won't cooperate? What will they do to him?

  What he did to me… no. stop.

  They crossed a small dirt path that split off to the east and continued walking over the grassy landscape, toward the hills Callan had pointed out. The ground was uneven and soggy. The sound of her boots squelching barely audible over the howling wind.

  After a few minutes, a small crop of hills on their right shielded them slightly and Charlotte paused to catch her breath.

  Callan leaned in, his arm around her waist. “There, up ahead. See where the hill curves around? We'll try there first.”

  “Okay, seems as good a spot as any,” she sighed. “Are you sure she's still here?”

  “Dad was sure. He wouldn't have given me the stone otherwise.” He started walking again, taking her hand and leading her on.

  “What is that, anyway?”

  “It's a moonstone. Her moonstone. She left it with Dad, when she gave up using her gift.”

  “Why a moonstone?” She asked, more able to talk now the wind wasn't blowing directly into her face.

  “They help with foretelling. Those with the gift of sight channel the power of the moonstone. Every stone has its own properties. Jet for protection, topaz for love and truth, amethyst for healing, onyx for inner strength. Without the stone, she can't channel,” he explained. “She hasn't used her gift
since Dane visited.”

  “Before the bunker?”

  Callan nodded and slowed his pace.

  Looking around, Charlotte couldn't see anything noteworthy. The small hills sheltered them on both sides now, forming a point before them. The ground was undisturbed, no trace of anyone coming and going.

  “We're here,” Callan said. He knelt and placed a hand on the ground. “Definitely here.”

  Well that was easy, shame there's nothing here!

  “How do you know? There's nothing here,” she said, cold seeping through her coat making her shiver.

  “Light a fire,” he said in a low voice.

  “Why?”

  “Please,” he insisted.

  She obliged, a small fire dancing at her feet.

  “Out! Out!” a rough voice barked. “Vile, hateful, OUT!”

  Charlotte started, her eyes darting around to locate the owner of the voice.

  “We're here to see Rona,” Callan said. “We wouldn't trouble her if it weren't important.”

  The voice hissed, “Evil, wicked conflagration. OUT!”

  Charlotte extinguished the fire, “Please. We need Rona's help. We're desperate.”

  Callan looked up, a smile twitching at his lips. Charlotte followed his gaze to see a falcon circling above.

  “Is that her?” She didn't take her eyes from the bird as it slowly descended.

  “That's her,” he said, turning his attention to the space before them. “The lady of the house is here. Will you invite us in?”

  There was no reply.

  Charlottes attention was drawn back to the ground as the hills they faced shifted out of focus. Charlotte stepped back a few paces, frowning at the odd image taking shape before her.

  “Squeeze your eyes closed, it helps,” Callan murmured, stepping to her side. “Take this, you do the talking. She doesn't want to see me.”

  “I can't, I don't know what to say,” she hissed.

  “Just be truthful, she'll help or she won't,” he said quietly, pressing the stone into her hand.

  Before she could examine it, Callan gently nudged her elbow. When she looked up, a small stone cottage had materialised. Its roof was heavily thatched, its windows were narrow and dark. The small front door was painted black with a round bronze handle positioned in the center. The falcon, Rona, had perched herself on the mantle above the door.