Blue Keltic Moon (Children of the Keltic Triad) (12 page)

He paced through the doorway, waving over his shoulder. She called to him, “Make it seven, Chance. Sleep well.”

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M
orning came much too early and Bree opened just one eye to stare at the alarm clock. The outrageous noise continued until she uncurled from the comfort of the soft bed and swatted the clock to silence. A groan preceded her tossing the light quilt aside and standing. Once on her feet, she stretched her spine then smiled.

There’d been the sound of movement and conversation in the manor house long after midnight, so she’d known Chance and probably Gowthaman had been up too late. She didn’t worry about Gowtham, but her brother had a hard day—perhaps many difficult days—before him and should have been resting. She’d work him to near exhaustion this morning, then insist he rest the remainder of the day.

Before she hit the shower, she paused. The clash and clang of steel against steel made her tip her head in confusion. It was only a quarter of seven. Why had Chance or Jayse started practice without her?

She rushed through her shower, skimmed a comb through her towel dried hair. Dressed in comfortable jeans, she trotted from her room. With his love of renaissance faires and reenactments, Jayse had created a practice area just off the parking area so she headed out the front door and across the rough gravel drive.

Lucidea sat on a stone and metal bench at the edge of the clearing, a heavy mug in her hand. She shouted encouragement to Coralie, who held a short, slender sword and sparred with Nightshade. Breanna moved to stand behind Lucidea and watched silently. She’d had little occasion to test Coralie’s skill with a blade. Now, she found nothing to complain about nor any suggestions to add to Nightshade’s running commentary. Although how he knew so much about fighting with a sword... she shook her head and turned her attention to Jayse and Chance.

The two men fought with an intensity that surprised her. Chance never fought that seriously when she challenged him. Maybe this mission would be good for him. She sat next to Lucidea and leaned forward, elbows on her knees.

“How long have they been going at it?”

Lucidea took a sip from her coffee mug. “Hmm, Coralie and Nightshade started almost an hour ago. She said it’s been too long and she wanted to regain a comfortable, working knowledge of the blade. The guys, not so long. Maybe half an hour. We decided to let you sleep.”

“I assume Gowthaman’s inside somewhere with his nose in a book.”

“You’d be assuming wrong.”

Startled, Bree glanced sideways at Lucidea. “I am?”

“He’s just gone to bed. Was up all night—with his nose in a book. Jayse practically had to rip the pen from his hand and force him at sword point to lay down on the couch in the study.” She chuckled. “Don’t expect him to stay there very long, though.

“I’m sure he won’t. Besides, he’s never seemed to need a lot of sleep.”

“He’s worried about you, you know.”

Bree scrubbed her hand over the back of her neck. “I know.”

“I wish you two would—”

“I know that too. But I can’t push him, I can’t force the issue.”

“And why not?” Lucidea waved one hand. “I know now’s not the time. But once you’re back and Morghan’s here, there must be some way to get him to focus on you. And only you. Then you’ll be able to help each other to help him.”

Unable to decipher what Lucidea was talking about, Bree blinked. “Huh?” She needed caffeine.

With another wave, Lucidea turned her attention toward her husband. “Never mind. Your concerns are somewhere else. We’ll talk when you get back.” She bent sideways and lifted an insulated carafe. “Coffee?”

“You’ve been holding out on me. Give. Maybe with a little stimulation I’ll be able to think.”

“Hmm, but I just said Gowthaman’s asleep.” Lucidea laughed and handed her a mug of steaming coffee. “Sorry, Bree. I don’t mean to make bad jokes or innuendoes, I’m... I’m excited, nervous, scared stiff. This, what you’re doing, where you’re going... it means so much to me.”

“Oh, Lucidea, I understand. I’m glad I’m able to do this for you.” She took the other woman’s hand. “We’ll do all we can to bring Morghan home. Your uncle’s safety and return is my primary concern.”

Tears filled Lucidea’s eyes. “I know it is. But then, after he’s home, then promise me you won’t give up on Gowthaman, will you?”

Bree’s lips felt quivery when she tried to smile. “I’ll never give up on him, Lucidea. No more than you’d give up on Jayse.”

“Good. Now, I’m going to go in and wash my face before Jayse sees me. I can only blame hormones for so much. I’ll bring out more coffee. And water for our combatants.”

Nodding, Bree turned her attention back to the two pairs on the practice field. Coralie and Nightshade stood talking, the wide sweeps of Nightshade’s hands illustrating his points. Bree grinned and turned to watch her brother.

There was something different about his fighting style, an odd, awkwardness not usually found in his movements. She tipped her head in confusion and found herself watching the tip of his weapon rather than his body’s movements. Why did his actions look so strange?

A few slashes and thrusts later, she frowned. He was practicing with a claymore a good foot longer than his personal weapon. What the hell was he thinking? They had no real idea what dangers they might face in the world between worlds. He needed to be comfortable with his weapon. With
his
weapon, not some sword he picked up for the heck of it. Just because he wanted to. Just because he was named Chance didn’t mean he should take chances with an unfamiliar sword.

Coffee sloshed over the edge of the cup when she jerked to her feet. She glared at the brown stain covering the stone seat. Needing calm, she took a deep breath. Confronting her brother already frustrated wouldn’t help. So she stood a moment longer staring as the coffee dripped to the ground.

“M’lady Alastriona?”

Only members of the defenders of mankind called her that, and then only in the most official or serious of moments. The coffee she’d drunk settled bitterly in her stomach and she turned to face her second in command.

“Macaire?”

He ducked his head, angling so he didn’t meet her eyes. The lump in her stomach fell, pressing firm and hard against her apprehension. The simple gesture, the lack of eye contact—there was something wrong. Seriously wrong, for Macaire never hedged, never actually dragged his toe through the dirt to avoid looking at her.

She took a deep breath. “Is there something wrong in Faerie? With my family?”

His eyes lifted quickly to hers, then dropped again and he scuffed the other toe in the dirt, lifting a small stone to the surface. He shook his head. “Nothing such as that, lady Alastriona.”

“Then what?” His refusal to meet her gaze didn’t bode well for anything other than devastating news.

“Lady—”

“You know better—”

“Aye, I do. But as the bearer of tidings you will not wish to hear, I thought it prudent...”

She forced a bark of dry laughter. “Prudent? Just tell me. What can be so bad that you have to resort to unwanted titles?”

“It is Searlait.”

The hard, sour lump sank low enough to feel as though it settled against the base of her spine. A shiver crawled from that place of origin and dread tightened her throat. “Is she... ill?”

“Not in the sense you mean. She is ill at heart, for she fears she has failed you desperately.”

After placing her coffee mug on the bench, Bree wrapped her arms around herself. “Failed me how?”

Macaire’s gaze focused somewhere in the distance over her shoulder. Then his dark eyes returned to her, pleading for understanding. “She has tried. I have been with her, and she tried until she could no longer... I swear to you, Breanna. I swear...” His gaze drifted away.

“Macaire. Look at me.” Each second longer than the one before, she waited until his focus returned to her. “I think I understand, but I need to hear.”

“She tried.” He spread his hands, his long fingers splayed and curled with entreaty. “She was able to open the portal to join you here, but she could not cross. She cannot, she will not, return to the world between worlds.”

Macaire collapsed to the bench and, ignoring the drying coffee spill, Bree sat next to him and took his hand. “I’m really not all that surprised. Her participation in this mission was a lot for me to ask after she’d already spent a lifetime there.”

“She fears... she would not be able to return to this world, that she would be trapped there once again. This time with no means of escape. Without the anger or one such as your mother to watch over, she knows she would not survive. She would not return to me as a whole being. Her mind—even if her body returned—she fears her mind would not.”

The cold tremor tumbled down her spine. Unfortunately, she did understand. Years of observing and attempting to help Gowthaman honed her sensitivity to his plight. And Searlait’s.

Macaire sighed. “She wanted to come, to support this mission. But when she tried, she collapsed.”

“Is she okay?”

“Aye, in a physical... She fought herself, tried so desperately. Even now, I fear for her mind. Her soul.”

“Return to her, and tell her it’s okay. That I understand. Tell her... tell her I appreciate everything she’s been able to tell us over the years, how she’s willingly shared her knowledge of the world between worlds. That knowledge, along with what Gowthaman has provided, will keep us safe and return us home. Successful. With Morghan.”

Macaire cast her a knowing look. “You hide your concerns well, lady Alastriona. You will do well in the world between worlds. I will return now to my love’s side, if there is nothing here I may do for you?”

“Chance said—”

“I brought the weapons your brother set aside for this mission. I... I apologize for not being able to do more.”

“It’s enough for me to know the Alastriona, and you, are my backup here.”

Rising to execute a low bow, Macaire offered a small, sad smile. “It shall be as you wish, Breanna. Go carefully. Fight bravely. Return safely.”

Bree watched him form a portal and pass back into Faerie, his head bowed, his shoulders slumped. Searlait had always been one of the bravest women she’d known, an experienced warrior, often the first in the line of battle, real or practiced. For her to fall prey to her own fears confirmed for Bree there was more to fear in the world between worlds than physical enemies.

At least Searlait allowed Macaire to give help and support. And his love.

Lucidea returned and rested a tray of bottled water on the bench. “Was that Macaire?”

Nodding, Bree rose and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Practice is over. I need to see everyone inside as soon as you get cleaned up.”

When the four sets of eyes turned to her in question, she called, “Hurry it up. I’ll fix breakfast.”

Lucidea gave her an appraising look and handed water to the others as they passed silently on their way to the manor. After Jayse shut the door behind him, she turned to Bree.

“Not good news?”

Bree shrugged at the tension riding her shoulders. “No, but it’ll work out. I’ll tell everyone over breakfast. I’m in the mood for scrambled eggs, hope you’ve got plenty.”

“Good job at evading my question, kiddo. Yep, plenty of eggs. Some bacon, ham and, oh, whatever else you might like to put in them. I’ll give you a hand—and not ask any questions.”

“Don’t bite your tongue too hard trying to keep silent.” Bree chuckled. “We’ll let Gowthaman sleep until everyone else is gathered. Then he’ll need to hear what I’ve got to say, too.”

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O
ne arm thrown over his eyes, Gowthaman feigned sleep when Lucidea peeked into the study. He wasn’t yet ready to face the members of the team, especially Breanna herself. The way he’d left her, alone on the deck, waiting for his kiss, shamed him. A kiss he’d nearly given her, a kiss of promise. He sat and rubbed his face. Why did a simple kiss—no, the mere thought of a simple kiss—cause him such distress? Why was he so unable to act upon his wishes, his needs?

Shaking his head, he rose, brushed at the weary wrinkles in his clothing and moved to the window. The study was at the front of the house, so the wide window overlooked the area where mock battles disturbed the early morning silence. His gaze found Bree unerringly and he frowned. She spoke with her second in command and their body language told of unpleasant news. He watched for a few moments, wishing he could hear their words, then turned away. What new problems did Breanna face now? The team would enter the world between worlds in too few hours, allowing her no time to deal with other issues.

He focused on the neatly stacked books he’d left beside his journal, ready for his renewed efforts. The desire to return to them faded to a cold lump in his chest. During the last hours of the night, the only information he’d found had been no different than what he’d discovered previously. Delving further into useless references would be of no assistance. All such a pursuit might do would be to increase his frustration. And helplessness.

The empty hollow of his stomach rumbled and he pressed the flat of his hand to his abdomen. Last night’s popcorn had not made a nutritious, nor long lasting meal. He managed a smile. After their workouts the travelers would need nourishment. He would prepare food so they could break their fasts.

M
orghan woke with a start and stared into the bleak gray. His mind remained clear of the haze that had taken residence over the past, long uncounted time. Cautious, he sat and looked around. A change was coming. Once standing, he lifted his head and scented the lackluster breeze. There was difference, a lightening of the very air. Definitely a change
.

A slight movement, caught from the corner of his eye, made him jerk toward a low rise of building-sized stones. “Who’s there?” he called, not expecting an answer.

And he didn’t receive one. He squinted into the gray, maintaining his position until the intruder moved again. Then he leapt, scrambled over the stones, and captured the small creature around the neck.