by Nora Roberts
He slurped his tongue from her jaw to her cheekbone. “Eeww.”
Moira’s laugh bubbled out as she stacked the last of the weapons. “He makes me laugh, even in the worst of times. Ah well,” she said when Blair scowled and swiped the slobber from her cheek. “You don’t seem to mind his tongue on you when he’s a man.”
The sound Larkin made was as close to a laugh as a horse could manage. Moira just grinned and swung back onto the stallion. “It’s hard to miss when two people are eager to get their hands on each other. I once had a crush on him myself.” She reached over, tugged Larkin’s mane. “But then I was five. I’ve gotten well over it now.”
“It’s the quiet ones you’ve got to watch out for,” Blair muttered. “You.” She jerked her head toward Moira as she mounted Larkin. “Quiet type, into the books, little shy around the edges. I wouldn’t have figured you’d take the idea of me banging your cousin so casually.”
“Banging?” Moira pursed her lips as they rode through the stones. “That would be a term for sexual relations? It fits, doesn’t it because…” She draped the reins over Vlad’s neck so she could slap her hands together. And this time, Blair laughed.
“You’re just full of surprises.”
“I know what happens between a man and a woman. Theoretically.”
“Theoretically. So you’ve never—” She caught Moira’s wincing glance toward Larkin. “Oh, sorry. Big horses have big ears.”
“Well, I suppose it’s a small thing, considering all the rest. No, I’ve never. If I’m to be queen, I’ll need to marry. But there’s time. I’d want to find someone who’d suit, and who understands me. I’d like best to love as my parents loved each other, but at least, I’d want to care for him. And I’d hope he’d be skilled at banging.”
This time the sound Larkin made was a kind of mutter.
“Why should you be the only one?” Moira slid her foot from the stirrup to give him a light kick with her boot. “Is he good at it then, our Larkin?”
“He’s an animal.”
Beneath her, Larkin broke into a fast trot.
Yes, Blair thought, it was good to laugh, even in the worst of times.
Chapter 12
Cian fingered the rough black material with mild distaste. “A cloak.”
“But it’s a magic cloak.” Glenna tried a winning smile. “With hood.”
Black cloaks and vampires, he thought with an inward sigh. Such a cliche. “And this…thing is supposed to prevent me from going up in flames in direct sunlight.”
“It really should work.”
He sent her a mildly amused look. “Should being the operative word.”
“Your blood didn’t boil when we exposed it,” Hoyt began.
“There’s cheery news. It happens I’m made up of more than blood.”
“Blood’s the key,” Hoyt insisted. “Blood’s the heart of it. You’ve said so yourself.”
“That was before my flesh and bone were on the line.”
“We’re sorry there’s no time to test it.” Glenna pushed a hand through her hair. “It took so long, and until we were reasonably sure, we couldn’t ask you to put it on and step outside.”
“Considerate of you.” He held it up. “Couldn’t you have made it a bit more stylish?”
“Fashion wasn’t our primary concern.” Hoyt didn’t quite snap out the words, but it was close. “Protecting your sorry self was.”
“I’ll be sure to thank you for it if I’m not a pile of inarticulate ash at the end of the day.”
“And so you should.” Moira condemned him with one quiet look. “They worked through the night, and all through this day with only you in mind. And while you’ve slept the rest of us have been working as well.”
“I had work of my own, Your Highness.” He dismissed her simply by turning his back. “Well, it’s unlikely to be an issue as your stone circle rejects my sort.”
“You have to trust in the gods,” Hoyt told him.
“I’m forced to remind you, yet again. Vampire. Vampires and gods aren’t drinking buddies.”
Glenna stepped up to Cian, laid a hand over his. “Wear it. Please.”
“For you, Red.” He tipped her face up, kissed her lightly on the lips. Then he stepped back, swirled it on. “Feel like a bloody B movie extra. Or worse, a sodding monk.”
He didn’t look like a monk, Moira thought. He looked dangerous.
Blair and Larkin came in. “We’re as secure as we’re going to be,” Blair said, then lifted her eyebrows at Cian. “Hey, you look like Zorro.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You know, that scene where he’s in the chapel with the girl, and he’s pretending to be the priest. Only, jeez, the kind of priest we used to call Father What a Waste. Anyway, sun’s down. If we’re going to go, we’d better.”
Hoyt nodded, looked at Cian. “You’ll stay close.”
“Close enough.”
Blair might have wished they’d taken time to practice the maneuver, but it was too late for wishes. No more talk, she thought. No more discussion—and no dress rehearsals. It was now or never.
After a quick nod, a quick breath, she and Larkin went through the door first. Even as he changed, she was leaping up, then reaching a hand down to help Moira vault behind her.
They rode away from the stables at a hard run, with the hope of drawing any that waited in ambush. She barely saw Cian streak out. He was at the stable doors in seconds, releasing the stallion.
Then he was gone again, and Hoyt and Glenna were on Vlad’s back.
With barely a glimmer of moonlight to guide them, a gallop was risky once they reached the trees. Blair kept Larkin to a trot, trusting him to watch the path as she scanned the woods.
“Nothing yet, nothing. If they’re around they’re hanging back.”
“Can you see Cian?” With her bow ready, Moira tried to look everywhere at once. “Sense him?”
“No, there’s nothing.” Blair shifted in the saddle to look over Moira’s shoulder at Hoyt. “Watch the flank. They may come at us from behind.”
They rode in absolute silence, with only the sound of hooves on the path. And that, Blair thought, was a problem. Where were the nightbirds? Where were all the little rustles and peeps of the small animals in a night woods?
Demon hunters, she knew, weren’t the only creatures who could sense vampires.
“Be ready,” Blair said under her breath.
She heard it then, the clash of steel, a sudden scream. She didn’t have to urge Larkin on with words or a nudge of her heels. He was already at a gallop.
She sensed them seconds before they charged out of the trees. Foot soldiers this time, she judged, with some seasoning and wearing light armor. She sliced down with her sword even as Moira’s arrows began to fly.
Hooves struck out, and trampled whatever fell beneath them. But the enemy came from everywhere, blocking the circle, and barring the path to the Dance. Blair kicked out, knocking one back as it clawed at her leg. Too many, she thought. Too many to make a stand.
Better, she thought, better to charge, break the line, and get to the stones.
Then the one that leaped down from a branch above her nearly unseated her, knocking her back as she rammed up an elbow to block it. Moira pitched to the ground. With a cry of rage, Blair smashed back with a fist. She’d nearly jumped down when Cian flew across the path.
He swooped Moira up, all but threw her back on Larkin. “Go!” he shouted. “Go now.”
She charged the line, the flames from her sword cutting a burning path. She could only hope Cian was out of harm’s way as a ball of fire whizzed by her. She felt Larkin vibrate beneath her, and the form of him shift.
Then she was soaring up on the dragon’s back, with his claws raking across the line of vampires, slashing out with his tail as Hoyt and Glenna galloped through the gap.
She could see the stones now. Though clouds covered the moon they glowed like polished silver, shining against t
he dark. She would have sworn even with the rush of wind, the cries of battle, she heard them singing.
As Hoyt and Glenna flew through them and into the circle, Larkin dived.
She leaped from his back, favoring the leg the vampire had scored. “Get ready,” she ordered.
“Cian—”
She squeezed Moira’s shoulder. “He’ll come. Hoyt?”
He drew out his key; Moira did the same. “We don’t say the words until Cian’s with us.” As with the stones themselves, power seemed to pulse from Hoyt as he took Glenna’s hand. “We don’t say the words until we’re a circle again.”
Blair nodded. Whatever the stones held, whatever Hoyt and Glenna had been born with, the full force of the power came from unity. They’d wait for Cian.
She turned to Larkin. “Nice riding, cowboy. How bad is it?”
He pressed a hand to his bleeding side. “Scratches. You?”
“Same. Clawed up a little. Everybody else?”
“We’ll do.” Glenna was already stanching a gash in Hoyt’s arm.
“He’s coming,” Moira murmured.
“Where?” Hoyt clamped a hand on her arm. “I see nothing.”
“There.” She pointed. “He’s coming.”
He was a blur coming out of the trees, a swirl of black up the rise.
“Wasn’t that entertaining? They’re regrouping, for all the good it will do them.” There was blood on his face, and more running down from a slice in his thigh.
“Come.” Hoyt held out a hand to him. “It’s time.”
“I can’t.” Cian lifted his own hand and pressed it against the air between the stones. “It’s like a wall to me. I am what I am.”
“You can’t stay here,” Hoyt insisted. “They’ll hunt you down. You’ll be alone.”
“I’m not such easy prey. Do what you’re meant to do. I’ll stay to make certain it works.”
“If you stay we all stay.” Larkin stepped to the gap between two stones. “If you fight, we all fight.”
“The sentiment’s appreciated,” Cian told him. “But this is bigger than one of us, and you have somewhere to be.”
“The other portal,” Larkin began.
“If I find it, you can buy me a drink in Geall. Go.” He met Hoyt’s eyes. “What’s meant is meant. So you’ve always believed, and so—in my way—have I. Go. Save worlds.”
“I’ll find a way.” Hoyt reached through the stones to grip Cian’s hand. “I’ll find a way, I swear it to you.”
“Good luck to you.” Cian saluted them with his sword. “To you all.”
With a heavy heart showing clearly in his eyes, Hoyt stepped back, lifted the crystal. Light beamed in it, and from it.
“Worlds wait. Time flows. Gods watch.”
Tears glimmering on her cheeks, Glenna took his hand and repeated the words.
“It’s not right.” Larkin spoke softly. “It’s not right to leave one of us.”
“Maybe we can—Oh shit,” Blair murmured as the ground began to rumble. The wind swirled up, and light began to pulse.
“Slan, mo cara.” With one last look at Cian, Larkin gripped her hand. “It’s a hell of a ride,” he told her. “Best hold on to me. Moira?”
She held her crystal; she spoke the words. And she stared into Cian’s eyes as she felt the world shift. Then she reached out, grabbed his hand. “We are one force, one power. This is meant!”
And pulled him into the circle.
It was like being sucked into a tornado, Blair thought. Impossible wind that seemed to pull you away from the earth, spin you in mad circles while the light blasted your eyes.
Would there be munchkins on the other side?
She could see nothing but that wild white light, the spinning whirl of it. Could find no footing, no solid ground, so anchored herself with Larkin’s hand.
Then there was dark, and utter stillness. She rubbed her hand over her face, tried to catch her breath. And she saw now there was moonlight, silver streams of it that speared down and struck the standing stones.
“Is this our stop?”
“Oh my God!” Glenna’s voice was giddy. “What a rush. What a…wow. And Cian.” Putting both her trembling hands on either side of Cian’s face, she kissed him soundly. “How did you do it?” she asked Moira. “How did you bring him inside?”
“I don’t know. I just…It was meant. You were meant to be here,” she said to Cian. “I felt it, and…” Moira seemed to realize she was still clutching his hand, and pulled hers away. “And well, here you are.”
She pushed at hair that had come loose from its braid. “Well then, fàilte a Geall. Larkin.” She made a laughing leap into his arms. “We’re home.”
“And handily enough, it’s night.” If Cian was shaken, he hid it well—merely glancing around him as he shoved back his hood. “Not that I don’t trust your magical powers.”
“There’s still the matter of getting ourselves, and all this stuff where we’re going.” Blair gestured widely to encompass the chests, the weapons and cases.
“We can send men for most of it in the morning. I think we carry what we need most,” Moira suggested.
“Weapons then. We don’t know what we’re walking into. Sorry,” Blair added. “But you’ve been gone well over a month. We can’t know.”
“I can carry three, take the air.” Larkin tugged Moira’s disordered braid. “I could see if there’s anything to worry about. And you can take one on the horse.”
“My horse,” Cian reminded him before he looked at Moira. “I can take you on my horse.”
“Sounds like a plan. Let’s get it in motion.” Blair slung on her own duffle, then grinned at Hoyt and Glenna. “You guys are going to love this.”
Across Geall they flew, with the stallion and its two riders galloping below. As the moonlight dripped like magic, hills and wedges of forest were edged with silver; the river gleamed on its wandering journey through them. Blair saw cottages with thin smoke spiraling from chimneys, the dots that were cattle or sheep lolling in fields. The roads below were narrow and dirt, and empty of travelers but for Cian and Moira.
No cars, she thought, no lights but for the occasional glimmer that might have been a candle or lantern. Just land, she realized, left to roll and spread, and rise to the silhouettes of mountains.
A land, she reminded herself, that until a few weeks ago, she’d believed a fairy tale.
She turned her head, saw the coast with its high, steep cliffs that flowed down to graceful inlets. The sea spread out, velvet black, and cupped a trio of rough little islands on its journey to the horizon.
She heard Glenna give a quick gasp behind her, and looked over again.
The fantasy rose from the high hill, a wide curl of river at its back. Its stones gleamed like jewels in the moonlight, rising up into towers and turrets, stretching out into crenelated walls.
A castle, Blair thought, dumbfounded. And what castle would be complete without a drawbridge, or peaked caps on towers that held silky white flags?
A claddaugh on one, she noted as they waved in the breeze. A dragon on the other.
Glenna leaned forward to speak in her ear. “A hell of a lot to take in, for a couple of twenty-first-century girls.”
“I thought nothing was going to surprise me.” There was wonder in her voice; Blair could hear it herself. “But wow, a freaking castle.”
Larkin circled it so they could keep the horse and riders in view below. Then he glided down to a wide courtyard.
Instantly, Blair found herself surrounded by men in light armor, swords already drawn. She held her hands up in plain sight as she and her companions slid to the ground.
“Your name and your purpose.” One of the guards stepped forward.
Larkin shed the dragon. “That’s hardly a warm welcome, Tynan.”
“Larkin!” The guard sheathed his sword, then grabbed Larkin in a one-armed hug. “Thank the gods! Where the devil have you been all these weeks? We’d all but given u
p on you. And the princess, where—”
“Open the gates. The princess Moira is waiting to come home.”
“You heard Lord Larkin,” Tynan snapped. He lacked an inch or two of Larkin’s height, but his voice boomed with command. “Raise the gate. You must tell all. Your father will want to be waked.”
“There’s much to tell. Wake the cook while you’re about it. Give welcome to my friends. The warrior Blair, Glenna the witch, Hoyt the sorcerer. We’ve traveled far today, Tynan. Farther than you can know.”
He turned, reaching up to lift Moira down from the horse.
The men bowed, Blair noted, when Moira’s feet touched the ground.
“Tynan, your face is a welcome sight.” She kissed his cheek. “This is Cian, and this fine fellow is his Vlad. Would you have one of the men take him to the stables, see he’s housed and tended?”
“Me or the horse?” Cian murmured, but she pretended not to hear.
“Have my uncle told we’ve come home, and we wait upon him in the family parlor.”
“At once, Highness.”
Moira led the way through the courtyard toward a wide archway. The doors were already open for them.
“Nice summer house you’ve got here,” Blair murmured. “Lord Larkin.”
He shot her a grin. “’Tisn’t much, but it’s home. In truth, my own family home isn’t far from here. My father would be acting as ruler until Moira is crowned.”
“If it’s meant,” Moira said over her shoulder.
“If it’s meant,” he agreed.
Torches were being lit in the great hall, so Blair assumed word of the return was already spreading. In the floor, fashioned of some sort of tile, the two symbols from the flag here inlaid so that the claddaugh seemed to float over the dragon’s head.
They flew again in the glass dome curved into the high ceiling.
She had the impression of heavy furnishings, of colorful tapestries, caught the scent of roses as they started up a curve of stairs.
