The Key Trilogy

by Nora Roberts

  Her movements still a bit stiff, Rowena walked around the table. “Much has been lost since we were sent here. But there was never defeat. I feared that,” she said, looking over at Zoe. “Perhaps my fear made me weak when I finally stood against Kane. But my king is not weak. Kane mistook his ability to love, his kindness, and his compassion for weakness and forgot his wisdom and his terrible power.”

  “I saw him,” Zoe said softly. “I saw him, a gold buck with a jeweled collar. This morning, standing outside the house, watching me.”

  “He has watched us all, more closely than I knew. He waited, grieved, fought, planned, three thousand years for the ones who could free his children. You were the only ones who could. I was not shown this until now. All these years, the failures, the preparations, they were all leading to you.”

  Gently, she smoothed a napkin. “If you, any of you, had turned away, there would have been no others. Had I known . . . had I known, I’m not sure I could have borne it. So, I was not to know.”

  Because her legs felt suddenly weak, Zoe reached out to the back of a chair. “That’s a pretty big chance to take with three women in Pennsylvania.”

  Rowena’s lips curved, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I would say the gods chose very well.”

  “The sword . . . I’d already found the key. I’d completed my quest. I understand that Kane tried to stop us from using it, that what had grown in him, or what he’d decided to use, allowed him to try to stop us from using it. But once I found it, the rest was really between the gods, wasn’t it?”

  “You’d done what you were chosen to do,” Rowena agreed.

  “Then why did he give me the sword? Why didn’t he give it to you or Pitte? Or just take Kane out himself?”

  “He would not battle Kane on this field, in this place. For such matters, a champion must be chosen.”

  “Pitte, then, or you.”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  Tears glimmered in her eyes for an instant, then were gone. When she spoke, her voice was very strong. “Because we are not forgiven.”

  She set the last of the flatware in place, stepped back to study the table. “This is not the time for sorrows. We have much to be thankful for. Tell me—I have spent as little time as possible in kitchens—what comes next?”

  Something had to be done, Zoe thought. But she smiled because she knew Rowena wanted it. “Ever mash potatoes?”

  “No.”

  “Come on. I’ll teach you.”

  THEY gathered around the table with the fire roaring and the candles gleaming. Whatever unhappiness Rowena knew was well masked by laughter and conversation. Champagne sparkled in glasses that were never empty. Platters and bowls were passed from hand to hand in an endless carousel of abundance.

  “You’ll want plenty of these,” Zoe told Pitte as she offered him the mashed potatoes. “Rowena made them.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “How?”

  “The same way women have been doing it for a number of years.”

  From the other end of the table, Rowena angled her head. “Pitte is now debating whether to risk them. My brave warrior wonders if he’ll be forced to eat paste and pretend it’s ambrosia.”

  As if to demonstrate his bravery, or his love, Pitte piled a small mountain of potatoes on his plate. “You wear his ring,” he said to Zoe, nodded at the diamond on her finger.

  “Yes.” To please herself Zoe wiggled her fingers and watched the ring shoot fire.

  “You are a fortunate man,” he told Bradley.

  “I am. I’ve got to take that ugly midget along with her.” He sent a wink toward Simon. “But I figure she’s worth the sacrifice.”

  “So many weddings,” Rowena announced. “So many plans. Have dates been set?”

  “We’ve been a little busy,” Flynn began.

  Malory fluttered her lashes at him. “We’re not busy now.”

  “Oh.” He lost a little color. “Guess not. Well . . . I don’t know. Um . . .”

  All attention turned to him, had him squirming. “How come it’s my deal? There are three of us in this boat.”

  “Looks like you’re at the wheel, son,” Jordan said and continued to eat turkey.

  “Man. Christmas is coming. We could work with that.”

  “Too soon.” Malory shook her head. “We have—hopefully—the holiday rush at Indulgence to deal with. And I haven’t picked out my dress yet. Then there’s the flowers, the venue, the theme, the—”

  “That should only take three or four years, once you get started. Great potatoes,” Flynn said to Rowena.

  “Thank you.”

  “It certainly won’t take three or four years. I’m a very organized, goal-oriented woman. Just because I want a big wedding and I want it perfect doesn’t mean I can’t pull it together in a reasonable amount of time. You can forget stalling, Hennessy.”

  “Valentine’s Day.”

  “What?”

  There was something wonderful about watching her big blue eyes go blank. “February fourteenth.” Inspired now, he grabbed her hand, kissed it. “Marry me, Malory. Be my valentine.”

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” Jordan grumbled under his breath and got a sharp elbow in the ribs from Dana.

  “Valentine’s Day.” Everything inside Malory melted. “Oh, that’s so perfect. That’s so beautiful. Yes!” She scooted around in her chair to throw her arms around his neck. “And you’ll never have any excuse to forget our anniversary.”

  “Always a catch.”

  “Okay, big guy.” Dana used her elbow again. “Batter up.”

  “What’s wrong with what he said? Except for the gooey parts.”

  “Yes!” Malory erupted again, face glowing. “Let’s do it together. All of us. A triple wedding on Valentine’s Day. It’s perfect. It’s . . . right.”

  “Works for me.” Brad looked at Zoe. “What do you say?”

  “I say it makes a lovely circle.”

  “Do I have to wear a suit?” Simon demanded.

  “Yes,” his mother said definitively.

  “Figures.” He grumbled it as wedding plans flew around the table.

  WHEN the meal was finished, they gathered in the room where the portrait of the daughters looked down on them. The fire burned in the hearth, red and gold flames. A hundred candles glowed with light.

  “I’m nervous,” Zoe whispered and groped for Brad’s hand. “Kind of silly to be nervous now.”

  He brought her hand to his lips. “All in a day’s work for you, champ.”

  She laughed, but her stomach did a quick flip when Pitte lifted the Box of Souls.

  “An artist, a scholar, a warrior.” He set the box on its pedestal while the blue lights inside pulsed. “Inside and out, mirror and echo. Through their hearts, their minds, their valor, the last lock can be opened.”

  He stepped to the side, a soldier, while Rowena moved to her place to flank the box. “Please,” she said to Zoe, “send them home.”

  Her stomach calmed, and her heart beat steady as she crossed the room. She felt the shape of the key in her hand, and its warmth as she looked at the final lock. And the lights that fluttered inside the glass like wings.

  She took one long breath, held it, then slid the key into the lock and turned it.

  Heat spread along her fingers. Light burst, white and pure and bright. With wonder, she watched the lid of the box fly open, saw the glass seem to explode without sound and send crystals spiraling into the air.

  The three blue lights soared free, spinning, spinning into a circle linked by the blur like the tail of a comet. The air sparkled, white and blue.

  Dazed, she heard Simon shout out, “Hey, cool!” and reached up, fascinated, to touch one of those whirling lights.

  For an instant, it lay in her palm. The beauty of it, the joy of it rushed into her with such force, such intimacy, she was staggered.

  She stared, dumbfounded, as she saw both Malory and Dana standing as she was, ha
nds outstretched, each with a pulsing blue light cupped in her palm.

  We’ve touched souls, she realized.

  Then the lights seemed to leap, rushing in a kind of joyful madness from hand to hand, spinning flirtatiously around the men, playfully around a laughing Simon, over the heads of the dogs, before they shot to Rowena and Pitte to hover where they’d both gone reverently to their knees.

  “It’s so beautiful.” Malory gripped Zoe’s hand, reached for Dana’s. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”

  Once more, the three lights rose in a perfect circle, then separated and arrowed toward the portrait. And into it.

  The painting shimmered, its already rich colors deepened. Zoe swore, that for just a moment, she heard three hearts begin to beat once more.

  Then all was still.

  “They are free.” Rowena’s voice trembled with tears. “They are home.”

  She moved to the three women. “This is a debt that can never be paid. What we give you is a token only.” She stepped closer to kiss each of them on the cheek in turn. “Please, sit. I know you have much to do for tomorrow, but we still have one or two things to discuss.”

  “I’m not sure I can talk sensibly right now.” Zoe pressed her hands to her mouth and stared at the portrait. “Or ever again.”

  “Champagne.” Rowena threw back her head and laughed. “We’ll have champagne to celebrate this great day. To celebrate our joy, and your fortune.”

  She spun away to fetch the flutes Pitte was already pouring. “Thanksgiving.” Her face glowed as she handed out the glasses. “Oh, it’s such a day for it. Life finds its way, doesn’t it? And you have found yours.”

  “We’ll get the business out of the way,” Pitte began. “The funds will be transferred to your accounts immediately, as agreed.”

  “No.” Dana sat down, sipped her champagne, and caught Zoe’s smirk out of the corner of her eye as Pitte blinked.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Do you want more?” In a gesture of acceptance, Rowena lifted a hand. “Don’t tell me a bargain is a bargain,” she said before Pitte could speak. “If they want more than the agreed-upon amount, they’ll have more.”

  “No,” Dana said again. “We don’t want more. We don’t want any.” She jabbed a finger in the air toward Brad. “Mr. Business?”

  “The parties waive payment,” Brad began. Enjoying himself, loving these women. “After discussing the contractual terms, an agreement was reached, unanimously, to refuse any further monetary remuneration.”

  He drew forth a paper he’d written up, hurriedly, at their instructions, which they had signed. And he, Flynn, Jordan—and Simon—had witnessed. “This document, though informal, is self-explanatory and valid.”

  He held it out, waited for Pitte to come over and take it.

  “Payment was agreed,” he began.

  “That was before.” Malory looked up at the portrait. “Before we knew you, or them. When it was a kind of challenging game. We can’t take money for this.”

  “We took the down payment,” Dana put in. “And we’re not giving it back because, well, it’s gone.” She shrugged carelessly. “But we’re not going to get rich off their souls.”

  “The money means nothing to us,” Rowena began.

  “No.” Zoe nodded. “But it means something to us, so we can’t. Wherever we go from here, whatever we make, we’ll do it on our own, and together. That’s our decision and we . . . we expect you to honor it,” she finished.

  “Honor,” Pitte said slowly, “is beyond price. I am humbled by yours.”

  “Then let’s drink.” Grinning, Dana lifted her glass. “It’ll be the first time I ever drank to turning down a million.”

  Rowena walked to Zoe’s side. “If I could have a moment with you, in private.”

  She’d been waiting, and though Zoe stood, she stayed where she was. “You’re going to offer me a boon, the way you did when Malory and Dana found their keys. Isn’t that right?”

  “Yes.” Rowena quirked her eyebrows. “Here, there?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Very well. You know the debt is deep. As you were the last, you know most of all how deep, how impossible to pay. But whatever you want that I’m able to give is yours.”

  “Malory and Dana didn’t ask for anything.”

  “No. Still—”

  “But I’m going to.”

  “Ah.” Pleased, Rowena took her hand. “What will you?”

  “It seems to me that since we unlocked the box, that even if I ask for something you can’t handle—”

  “I can handle quite a bit,” Rowena said with a laugh. “I promise you.”

  “But if you can’t, that under the circumstances, there are others who know what happened here, what I did, and they could get it for me.”

  “You intrigue me.” Rowena angled her head. “I believe you can have whatever you like. As I told you, our king loves his daughters and would surely repay you for all you’ve done. What do you wish, Zoe?”

  “That you and Pitte be allowed to go home.”

  Rowena’s fingers went limp on hers, dropped away. “I don’t understand you.”

  “That’s what I want. It’s what I decided to ask for even before I knew it was what they wanted.” She gestured to the portrait. “They touched us, and the six of us were like one for that moment. It’s what we want.”

  Pitte stepped forward to lay his hand on Rowena’s shoulder. “We’re responsible for our own prison.”

  “No, Kane is,” Dana interrupted. “And I like to think he’s writhing in hell. Whatever part you played, you’ve paid for. The daughters understand that.”

  “You told me you weren’t forgiven,” Zoe continued. “But those most hurt never blamed you. And you kept your bargain, your word, your honor for three thousand years. Whatever rules you broke were only to spare lives after Kane crossed the line. I’m asking that you not be punished for that.”

  “It’s not something . . .” With a helpless look at Pitte, Rowena shook her head.

  “I wouldn’t argue with her.” Giving Simon’s hair a quick ruffle, Brad sent Zoe a warm look. “She’s a very determined woman.”

  “And a generous one.” Moved beyond measure, Rowena pressed her palm to her heart. “But we have no power for this thing you ask.”

  “The king does. Will he tell me no? Will he tell them no?” With her mind made up, Zoe pointed to the portrait. “If he does, he may be a god, but he doesn’t know squat about justice.”

  “Careful.” Weakly, Pitte held up a warning hand. “Even a warrior so well proven should have care when she speaks of a king.”

  There were times to lay down the sword, Zoe remembered. And there were times to fight. She drew herself up. “He gave me a sword, and I used it. I fought for his children, and I helped save them.”

  She turned in a circle, studied the faces of her friends, her family. “Everyone in this room worked and risked and struggled to free them, to send them home. This is what I want in payment. This is my balance. If he’s any kind of a king, any kind of a father, he’ll give it to me.”

  Thunder boomed, not only outside but seemingly in the room itself. The great house shook, and in the hearth flames leaped.

  “Boy.” Dana swallowed hard, and snuck her hand into Jordan’s. “I hope that’s a yes.”

  On a small cry, Rowena pressed herself against Pitte. The words she spoke were foreign, drenched in emotion, as his were when he whispered in response.

  Utter peace settled over his face before he buried it in her hair.

  “I’d say that’s a big yes,” Jordan decided. “You’re a stand-up woman, Zoe.”

  “Well.” She picked up her glass now, amused to see her own fingers tremble. “Whew.”

  “In all the years since I came here,” Pitte said quietly. “In all the endless hours and days of longing for home, I never knew I would miss anything from this world. I will miss you.” With Rowena tight to his side, he be
nt down to kiss Zoe. “I will miss all of you.”

  “We will not forget you.” Rowena stepped away from Pitte to drop into a deep curtsy, then chuckled as Moe pranced over to lick her face. “And there is much I will miss. Take care of them, my handsome warrior.” She kissed Moe’s nose. “Take care of each other. The gods are grateful to you all.”

  She straightened, smiled beautifully. “Sisters, brothers. Friends. Our thanks to you, and our blessings on you.” She held out her hand for Pitte’s.

  Their fingers linked, and they were gone.

  THE next day, at six-forty-five P.M., Dana closed the door of Indulgence, locked it. Turning, she grinned at her friends, then slid down into a heap on the floor.

  “Are we sure that’s everybody? Are we sure it’s just us left in here?” Zoe demanded.

  “It’s just us,” Malory assured her.

  “Holy jumping Jesus!” She shouted it and leaped into the air. “We rocked!”

  “We rocked, we rolled, we kicked retail ass,” Dana said from the floor. “I’ve never been so tired in my life. I may just sleep right here until we open again in the morning.”

  “We are such a hit. Did you see? Did you see how it all worked?” Her voice giddy, Malory spun in a circle. “Just the way we hoped. One of your manicure ladies bought my blown-glass bowl.”

  “And two of your art customers came up and booked a full-day spa package.”

  “I sold books to everyone who’s ever lived,” Dana chimed in and pillowed her head on her hands.

  “And I think every one of them came through my shop on the way to Zoe’s salon. And they loved it. How many times today did you hear people saying how pretty everything was, how much fun, how this was the best thing to happen to the Valley?”

  “I lost count.” Dana lifted her head. “I’m going to need another bookseller. Joanne and I couldn’t keep up.”