by Morgan Rice
“So?” he prodded. “Aren’t you going to tel me your name?”
She giggled again.
“Wel , I have a formal name, but I rarely go by it,” she said.
Then she turned and faced him, waiting for him to catch up.
“If you must know, everyone cal s me Pol y.”
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FOUR
Caleb held open the huge, medieval door, and as he did, Caitlin stepped out of the abbey and took her first steps out into the early morning light. Caleb at her side, she looked out at the breaking dawn. Here, high atop the hil of Montmartre, she was able to look out and see al of Paris stretched before her. It was a beautiful, sprawling city, a mixture of classical architecture and simple houses, of cobblestone streets and dirt roads, of trees and urbanity.
The sky blended in a mil ion soft colors, making the city look alive. It was magical.
Even more magical was the hand that she felt slip into hers.
She looked over and saw Caleb standing by her side, enjoying the view with her, and she could hardly believe it was real. She could hardly believe it was real y him, that they were real y here. Together. That he knew who she was.
That he remembered her. That he’d found her.
She wondered again if she had truly awakened from a dream, if she were not stil sleeping.
But as she stood there, and squeezed his hand tighter, she knew that she was truly awake. She had never felt so overjoyed. She had been running for so long, had come back in time, al these centuries, al this way, just to be with him. Just to make sure he was alive again. When he hadn’t remembered her, in Italy, it had crushed her to the depths.
But now that he was here, and alive, and remembered her
—and now that he was al hers, single, without Sera around
—her heart swel ed with new emotion, and with new hope.
She had never in her wildest dreams imagined that it could al work out so perfectly, that it could al actual y really work.
She was so overwhelmed, she didn’t even know where to begin, or what to say.
Before she could speak, he began.
“Paris,” he said, turning to her with a smile. “There are certainly worse places we could be together.”
She smiled back.
“My whole life long, I’d always wanted to see it,” she answered.
With someone I love, she wanted to add, but stopped herself. It felt like it had been so long since she’d been by Caleb’s side, she actual y found herself feeling nervous again. In some ways, it felt like she had been with him forever—longer than forever—but in other ways, it felt like she was meeting him again for the first time.
He reached out his hand, palm up.
“Would you see it with me?” he asked.
She reached out and placed her hand into his.
“It’s a long walk back down,” she said, looking down at the steep hil , leading al the way down, for miles, and sloping into Paris.
“I was thinking of something a bit more scenic,” he answered. “Flying.”
She rol ed back her shoulder blades, trying to feel if her wings were working. She felt so rejuvenated, so restored from that drink, from the white blood—but she stil wasn’t sure she was able to fly. And she didn’t feel ready to leap off a mountain in the hope that her wings would take.
“I don’t think I’m ready yet,” she said.
He looked at her, and understood.
“Fly with me,” he said, then added, with a smile, “just like the old days.”
She smiled, came up behind him, and held onto his back and shoulders. His muscular body felt so good in her arms.
He suddenly leapt into the air, so fast, that she barely had time to hang on tight.
Before she knew it, they were flying, she holding onto his back, looking down, resting her head on his shoulder blade.
She felt that familiar thril in her stomach, as they plummeted, coming down low, close to the city, in the sunrise. It was breathtaking.
But none of it was as breathtaking as her being in his arms again, holding him, just being together. She had barely been with him an hour, and already she was praying that they would never be apart again.
*
The Paris that they flew over, the Paris of 1789, was in so many ways similar to the pictures of Paris she’d seen in the 21st century. She recognized so many of the buildings, the churches, the steeples, the monuments. Despite its being hundreds of years old, it looked almost exactly like the same city of the 21st century. Like Venice and Florence, so little had changed in just a few hundred years.
But in other ways, it was very different. It was not nearly as built up. Although some roads were paved with cobblestone, stil others were dirt. It was not nearly as condensed, and in between buildings there were stil clumps of trees, almost like a city built into an encroaching forest. Instead of cars, there were horses, carriages, people walking in the dirt, or pushing carts. Everything was slower, more relaxed.
Caleb dove lower, until they were flying feet above the tops of the buildings. As they cleared the last of them, suddenly, the sky opened, and spread out before them was the Seine River, cutting right through the middle of the city. It glowed yel ow in the early morning light, and it took her breath away.
Caleb dove low, flying above it, and she marveled at the beauty of the city, at how romantic it was. They flew over the smal island, the Ile de la Cite, and she recognized the Notre Dame beneath her, its huge steeple soaring above everything else.
Caleb dove even lower, just above the water, and the moist river air cooled them on this hot July morning. Caitlin looked out and saw Paris on both sides of the river, as they flew above and below the numerous, smal arched foot bridges connecting one side of the river to the other. Then Caleb lifted them up, and over to one side of the river bank, setting them down softly, behind a large tree, out of sight of any passersby.
She looked around and saw that he had brought them to an enormous, formal park and garden, which seemed to stretch for miles, right alongside the river.
“The Tuileries,” Caleb said. “The very same garden of the 21st century. Nothing has changed.
It’s stil the most romantic place in Paris.”
With a smile, he reached out and took her hand. They began strol ing together, down a path which wound its way through the garden. She had never felt so happy.
There were so many questions she was burning to ask him, so many things that she was dying to say to him, she hardly knew where to begin. But she had to start somewhere, so she figured she’d just start with what was most recently on her mind.
“Thank you,” she said, “for Rome. For the Colosseum. For saving me,” she said. “If you hadn’t had arrived when you did, I don’t know what would have happened.”
She turned and looked at him, suddenly unsure. “Do you remember?” she asked worriedly.
He turned and looked at her, and nodded, and she saw that he did. She was relieved. At least, final y, they were on the same page. Their memories were back. That alone meant the world to her.
“But I didn’t save you,” he said. “You handled yourself quite wel without me. On the contrary, you saved me. Just being with you—I don’t know what I would do without you,” he said.
As he squeezed her hand, she felt her entire world slowly become restored within her.
As they ambled through the gardens, she gazed in wonder at al the varieties of flowers, the fountains, the statues….It was one of the most romantic places she’d ever been.
“And I’m sorry,” she added.
He looked at her, and she was afraid to say it.
“For your son.”
His face darkened, and as he looked away, she saw genuine grief flash across it.
Stupid, she thought. Why do you always have to go and ruin the moment? Why couldn’t you have waited for some other time?
Caleb swal owed and nodded, too overcome with grief to even speak.
“And I’m sorry about Sera,” Caitlin added. “I never meant to get between the two of you.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he said. “It had nothing to do with you. It was between her and I. We were never meant to be together. It was wrong from the start.”
“Wel , final y, I’ve been wanting to tel you that I’m sorry for what happened in New York,” she added, feeling relieved to get it off her chest. “I would have never stabbed if I knew that it was you.
I swear, I thought you were someone else, shapeshifting. I never in a mil ion years thought it was real y you.”
She felt herself tear up at the thought of it.
He stopped and looked at her, and held her shoulders.
“None of that matters now,” he said, earnestly. “You came back to save me. And I know that you did so at great expense. It might not have even worked. And you risked your life for me. And gave up our child for me,” he said, looking down again in momentary grief. “I love you more than I can say,” he said, stil looking at the ground.
He looked at her with wet eyes.
At that moment, they kissed. She felt herself melting into his arms, felt her entire world relax, as they kissed for what felt like forever. It was the greatest moment she had ever had with him, and in some ways, she felt like she was getting to know him for the first time.
Final y, slowly, they pul ed out of it, looking deeply into each other’s eyes.
Then they both looked away, demurely, took each other’s hands, and continued their walk through the gardens, alongside the river. She looked at how beautiful, how romantic Paris was, and realized that at that moment, al of her dreams were coming true. This was al she’d ever wanted out of life. To be with someone who loved her—who really loved her. To be in such a beautiful city, such a romantic place. To feel like she could have a life ahead of her.
Caitlin felt the bejeweled case in her pocket, and resented it. She didn’t want to open it. She loved her father very much, but she didn’t want to read a letter from him. She knew right then that she didn’t want to continue on this mission any longer. She didn’t want to risk having to go back in time again, or to have to find any other keys. She just wanted to be here, in this time, in this place, with Caleb.
In peace. She didn’t want anything to change. She was determined to do whatever she had to to guard their precious time together, to truly keep them together. And a part of her felt that that meant giving up the mission.
She turned and faced him. She was nervous to tel him, but she felt that she had to.
“Caleb,” she said, “I don’t want to search anymore. I realize I have a special mission, that I need to help others, that I need to find the Shield. And it may sound selfish, and I’m sorry if it does. But I just want to be with you. That’s what’s most important to me now. To stay in this time, and in this place. I have a feeling that if we continue to search, we’l end up in another time, in another place.
And that we might not be together next time…” Caitlin broke off, and realized she was crying.
She took a deep breath in the silence. She wondered what he thought of her, and hoped that he didn’t disapprove.
“Can you understand?” she asked, tentatively.
He stared off into the horizon, looking concerned, then final y turned and looked at her. Her own concern mounted.
“I don’t want to read my dad’s letter, or find any more clues.
I just want us to be together. I want things to stay exactly as they are now. I don’t want them to change. I hope you don’t hate me for that.”
“I would never hate you,” he said, softly.
“But you don’t approve?” she prodded. “You think I should continue with the mission?”
He looked away, but didn’t say anything.
“What is it?” she asked. “Are you worried about the others?”
“I guess I should be,” he said. “And I am. But I, too, have selfish reasons. I guess…in the back of my mind I was hoping that if we found the Shield, it might somehow help bring my son back to me. Jade.”
Caitlin felt a terrible feeling of guilt, as she realized that he equated her giving up the mission with letting his son go forever.
“But it’s not that way,” she said. “We don’t know that if we find the Shield, if it even exists, that it wil bring him back.
But we do know that if we don’t search, we can be together.
This is about us.
That’s what matters most to me.” She paused. “Is that what matters most to you?”
He looked off at the horizon, and nodded. But he didn’t look at her.
“Or do you only love me because I can help you find the Shield?” she asked.
She was shocked at herself, that she actual y had the courage to voice the question. It was a question that had been burning in her mind ever since she’d first met him.
Had he only loved her for where she could lead him? Or had he loved her for her? Now, she had final y asked it.
Her heart pounded as she waited for the answer.
Final y, he turned and looked deeply into her eyes. He reached up, and slowly stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.
“I love you for you,” he said. “And I always have. And if being with you means giving up the search for the Shield, then that is what I wil do. I want to be with you, too. I want to search, yes.
But you are much more important to me now.”
Caitlin smiled, feeling in her heart something she hadn’t felt in forever. A sense of peace, of stability. Nothing could stand in their way now.
He brushed the hair from her face, and broke into a smile.
“It’s funny,” he said, “I lived here once before. Centuries ago. Not in Paris, but in the country. It was a smal castle. I don’t know if it stil exists. But we can search.”
She smiled, and he suddenly hoisted her onto his back, and leapt into the air. Within moments, they were flying, high up above Paris, and heading into the country, to search for his home.
Their home.
Caitlin had never been so happy.
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER FIVE
Sam was having a hard time keeping up with Pol y as she walked. She talked so fast, and never seemed to stop, racing from one thought to the next. He was stil discombobulated from the time travel, from this new place
—he needed to process it al .
But they had been walking for nearly half an hour, he tripping over twigs as he fol owed her through the forest at her brisk pace, and she hadn’t stopped talking. He’d barely been able to get a word in. She went on and on about “the palace” and “the court” and about her coven members and an upcoming concert, and a man named Aiden. He had no idea what she was talking about, or why she’d been looking for him—or even where she was taking him. He was determined to get some answers.
“…of course, it’s not exactly a dance,” Pol y was saying,
“but stil , it’s going to be an amazing event—but I’m not quite sure what I’l wear. There are so many options, not enough for a formal event like this—”
“Please!” Sam said final y, as she bounced along merrily through the forest, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I have questions for you. Please. I need answers.”
She final y stopped talking, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
She looked at him with something like wonder, as if she were total y oblivious to the fact that she’d been talking al the while.
“Al you need to do is ask!” she said happily. And then, before he could respond, she added, impatiently, “Wel ?
What is it?”
“You said you were sent to get me,” Sam said. “By who?”
“That’s an easy one,” she said, “Aiden.”
“Who’s that?” Sam asked.
She snickered, “My, you have a lot to learn, don’t you? He’s only been the mentor of our coven for thousands of years.
I’m not sure why he’s taken an interest in you,
or why he’d send me on such a beautiful day tramping al the way through the forest to get you. The way I see it, you could have found your own way, eventual y. Not to mention, I had a thousand things to do today, including looking at this new dress and—”
“Please,” Sam said, trying to hold onto his thought before he lost again. “I real y appreciate your coming to get me and al , and I don’t want to be disrespectful,” he said, “but wherever it is that we’re going, I real y don’t have time. You see, I came back here, in this place and time, for a reason.
I need to help my sister. I need to find her—and I don’t have time for any side trips.”
“Wel , I would hardly cal this a side trip,” Pol y said. “Aiden is only the most sought after man in al the court. If he’s taken an interest in you, it’s nothing to throw away,” she said. “And whoever it is that you’re looking to find, if anyone can point the way, it wil be him.”
“Then where is it that we’re going, exactly? And how much further is it?”
She took several more steps through the forest, and he hurried to catch up, wondering if she’d ever respond, ever give him a straight answer—when, at that moment, the forest suddenly opened up.
She stopped, and he stopped beside her, awestruck.
Before them lay an immense open field, leading, in the distance, to immaculate, formal gardens, the grass cut into elaborate shapes of every size. It was beautiful, like a living work of art.
Even more breathtaking was what lay just beyond the gardens. It was a palace, grander than any structure Sam had seen in his life. The entire building was made of marble, and it stretched as far as he could see in every direction. It was a classical, formal design, with dozens of oversized windows, and a wide, marble staircase leading up to its entrance. He knew that he had seen pictures of this structure somewhere, but he couldn’t remember what it was.
“Versail es,” Pol y said, providing the answer, as if reading his mind.
