Blue Keltic Moon (Children of the Keltic Triad) (16 page)

“Aye?” Coralie gestured absently then tucked an indefinable packet into the pack set beside her chair. “An’ it could no’ wait?”

“I would have thought so, but a shadow figure in the dreamwalk said I needed to be here now, to tell you before you go.”

Bree straightened. “Well, we should let you get talking then. I’ll go—”

Tori caught Bree’s sleeve. “No, I’m supposed to tell everyone. I don’t understand why this is important, but it is. Please. I won’t take long, only a few moments. I know your time is precious. I don’t understand how this has any bearing on what you plan to do. I’ve learned, though, not to question the guides I meet on dreamwalks.”

“Nor would I ever expect ye to, m’ sister.” Coralie rose to hug her then stepped back. “Tell us, then. If we do no’ now understand what import there may be fer Morghan’s homecoming, then we shall when that time is upon us.”

Tori grinned and Bree stared at the matching expressions on similar faces. As often before, she fought amazement at how alike they were. Sisters, definitely, but raised in totally different worlds. Coralie had been a ward of Morghan’s father, the king of the Alfar-Sindhu, while Catori had grown up in a human, native American society. Whether it was fate, fortune or magic that brought the sisters together, none would dare step between them again.

As if summoned, the rest of the family gathered quietly in the kitchen. Bree glanced at each person as they settled into their chosen places then gave a soft snort. How long had it been the tradition for families to gather around the hearth? No matter what race or upbringing, everyone always came here.

She shook her head and rolled her eyes behind closed lids. That was an interesting, random thought. Not appropriate to the time or gathering. Or, perhaps it was. This widely inclusive, accepting family, while gathering for another reason, was also here for support.

Gowthaman paused at her side, then moved past her to take a seat at the table. The low murmur of individual conversations halted and Tori spoke.

“Dreamwalks have been difficult for me to interpret lately. Even when I factor in the disturbances that might stem from the world between worlds...” She sat and slapped her hands on her thighs. “I’ll do my best, but I can’t promise accurate answers.”

Coralie touched her shoulder. “Aye, we ken. ’Tis never an easy thing to unravel mysteries, even if they be only yer dreams. Nay, before ye give me another lecture on listenin’ to my dreams, I shall tell ye, sister mine, that I dinna need yer lectures. At least no’ now. Now we need to hear what yer guides have told ye to say.”

“I’d never lecture you, Cor.”

At Coralie’s lifted eyebrows, the sisters dissolved into giggles. The oppressive atmosphere filling the room lightened and Bree breathed a sigh heavy with relief. So caught up in Gowtham and her own feelings, she had momentarily lost touch with the others. Not a good thing. She’d have to keep her personal life separate while on this mission, otherwise...

But one glance at Gowthaman, who listened intently to Tori’s description of her dreamwalk, and her heart raced, her body felt languid and jittery at the same time, and she couldn’t focus on anything but him.

She adjusted her stance, crossed her arms and gave herself a pinch. Pay attention.

Letting Tori’s lyrical voice hold her attention, Bree kept her gaze locked on Gowthaman, gauging his reactions.

“So you see, the overt meaning of the dreamwalk is really self-explanatory. You go, find Morghan, and come back.”

Nightshade leaned back in his chair and lifted one eyebrow in Bree’s direction. “I’m sure Bree is gratified your guides predict success for the rescue. But honey, what haven’t you told us?”

Tori made a self-depreciating face. “I hesitate to say anything now, because I don’t see how this has squat to do with the rescue. It’s just that the information came to me during the same dreamwalk and I was instructed to tell all.”

“Then ye must tell us, Tori, dinna ye think? Ye ken, even if what ye say may no’ make sense to us now, perhaps at another time such information may prove vital.”

Bree smiled at Coralie’s words, exactly what she had drawn breath to say herself.

After a short nod, Tori continued, “As you all know, ever since Cor and I found each other, we’ve been searching for more information about our parents. Since Cor was raised in the Sindhu royal palace, and I discovered later I have the, uh, talent of breathing under water, we assumed we share an Alfar-Sindhu father. We discovered the truth of that assumption ten years ago. But we still have no ideas about our mothers. Their identities have remained hidden. I always thought my mother was human, a Native American, and that’s why I was placed with a tribal family.”

“So, did yer guides tell ye of our mothers then?” Coralie leaned closer to her sister, an expression of rapt interest filling her face.

“Even though my Alfar half is drawn to water, I never really gave much thought to why it’s so easy for me to enter a dreamwalk. To float through the air of possibilities and flow with the breezes until I reach the dawning of understanding. It’s like—flying.”

Leaning back, Coralie tilted her head to look out the wide kitchen window. “Yer thinkin’—”

Tori nodded.

Chance slapped his hand on the table jarring Coralie’s unpacked collection of containers and startling Bree from her mental lists. “Are you gonna share with the rest of us?”

Clasping the young man’s shoulder, Nightshade said, “She means her mother probably wasn’t human.”

Chance shrugged. “So?”

“But who she may have been, or of what race, is the important issue, honey.”

Chance ignored Nightshade, and rose from his chair to stalk to the sink. He turned to face the table with his hands fisted low on his hips. “So, was she Faerie?”

Bree turned her concentration on her brother, attempting to read deeper than his surface emotions. He’d been skittish all day, one moment his normal, cheeky self, at others brooding and distant. Now he was argumentative and angry. She had to get him settled down before they left tonight. There wasn’t time to baby him along, nor could they afford any mistakes.

Tori slowly shook her head. “It’s always possible, since I’ve the feeling she held a great deal of magic. But Faerie...” Lips pressed into a tight line, she continued shaking her head. “No, I don’t think so. The atmosphere where I was led felt—different. And I’ve been to Faerie often enough to sense such differences. I think, maybe—no, probably—my mother was also Alfar.”

At the edge of Bree’s vision Nightshade gave a barely noticeable jerk and straightened from his loose, relaxed pose. Drawing her brows together she watched him, more interested in his reaction than in Catori’s revelation. Why did the possibility that her mother might be Alfar make him literally sit up and take notice?

Tori continued, “It doesn’t feel right that she was Sindhu, so she must have been Domovoii or Andras.”

Coralie hugged her sister. “’Tis wondrous news. When we return with Morghan, ye an’ I shall discover the truth of yer mother. Then perhaps we shall find a clue to my own.”

Tori kissed her sister’s cheek. “That sounds like a plan, Cor. A good plan, after you have some time with the returnee, of course.”

A bright pink blush covered Coralie’s face and she dipped her head to hide a smile. Bree mentally slapped her forehead. Only recently she’d come to realize the depths of feeling Coralie had for Morghan, learned that they’d become lovers only days before Morghan disappeared. Even though Coralie had hidden her love well, once she became an adult herself, Bree should have at least suspected. A lump of heavy doubt settled in her chest. She’d been trained to be observant. Her own family, and she’d missed something really important.

She cast a glance at Gowthaman. He was why. Either she was so blinded by her feelings for him she didn’t notice other relationships or though happy for others like Jayse and Lucidea, she avoided thinking about those relationships because it hurt. Because she didn’t have that connection with Gowtham, that love.

They did have soulfire. He had to at least acknowledge the sparkling gold and crimson swirls of their soulfire.

Silently she slipped from the kitchen. Doubting anyone but Nightshade realized she’d gone, and knowing he wouldn’t say anything, she continued to the manor’s front door and out across the driveway to the woods beyond. A quick run would clear her mind so she could face the important task ahead. To face the world between worlds.

G
owthaman lagged behind as Breanna led her small party toward the outcropping a short distance from the manor. Concern for the rescue party lay like a stone weight in his heart and dragged his footsteps at a slow, contemplative pace. Some vital piece of information had been missed. A key to success. If the team was able to find Morghan and return the prince to this world, his worries would be unfounded.

He tried, but couldn’t believe that possibility to be true.

And now the time was upon them. In minutes the waxing gibbous moon would rise, followed in two nights by the full moon. There would be no triple conjunction of blue moons including the human moon for another three hundred years. Not long in a Faerie’s lifetime, for he was older than that by two times over. Nor for one of the Alfar-Sindhu race. But the young ones, Jayse, Lucidea, and younger still, Breanna and Chance, had yet to live even the length of one human life span. Without the patience and calming experience of long years, they were eager for action. Perhaps too eager.

His fingers jerked against the journal’s leather cover. Here he recorded everything he had discovered about the world between worlds, including the incantations needed to open the veil now, and again in two nights to return them to this world. He could do no more.

None of those participating in the rescue had asked him about his experience within the world between worlds. Gowthaman supposed they’d not wanted to cause him increased distress. Or perhaps Breanna had forbidden them to ask. Either way, he was glad. It was difficult enough to face the demons of his past when there were no outside demands, when it was only his own mind he had to fight. He could only hope he had put enough information in the journal. Given more time, he might have been able to organize his notes into a cohesive set of instructions and theories for their journey of rescue.

But with less than a handful of days, he’d only been able to record what he thought would be most beneficial. In any case, his memories of the world between worlds were as misty and gray as the place itself. At the time of his brief incarceration there, he’d only been aware of the pain and emptiness caused by the witch’s rape of his mind. He had not wanted to live, let alone escape from a place that didn’t require him to feel. He would have languished there still had not members of Breanna’s clan physically returned him to Faerie. Had Breanna not innocently taken his pain that first time...

He stumbled to a halt to watch the backs of those who chose to rip through the veil this night. Breanna walked the narrow, rocky path with calm purpose, her back straight, head held high. She hid her tension well, developing into an excellent leader. Although he did enjoy those rare occasions when her frustration had become too great and she would come to him, tense and irritable, and make him watch old science fiction movies. Fantasy for one who was fantasy. A smile tempted his mouth. She was his fantasy. No, she was his life.

His life. And she was entering a dangerous, unknown place accompanied only by two unseasoned warriors.

Searlait should be with her. The tall Alastriona’s duty was to stand at Breanna’s side, to guard her back. Searlait knew each varied landscape of the world between worlds and the creatures inhabiting those forlorn places. She had protected and encouraged him during his brief time there.

But neither he nor Searlait had ever desired to relive time in the world between worlds. Their experiences had never been truly been spoken of between them, only hinted at in vague conversation. Although surprised by the warrior’s fear, he understood her inability to face entering the place where she had been imprisoned for so long. Still, he could think of few others he would choose as competent enough to do battle beside Breanna.

He was also surprised by Coralie’s firm insistence she be included in the rescue party. The petite Alfar-Sindhu hardly gave the appearance of a warrior. However, Morghan had been her lord, her peoples’ ruler before he disappeared. Her manner, an easy gentleness belying great strength, would be a calm, comforting force within the group. She had helped Morghan create the original spells for the first battle with the fire elemental. An altered form of one of those spells would open the veil for them this night.

Coralie paused at the base of the outcropping and glanced toward the horizon. Gowthaman followed her gaze. Only a bare lightening over the distant hills indicated where the moon would rise. Then she hefted her pack loosely over one shoulder and began her assent to the brae’s flat crown. Gowthaman frowned, wondering briefly if he should suggest she wear shoes.

Chance followed Coralie, his soft pack bulging. The young man wore a sword at his hip but had also strapped a long, plain scabbard to the pack. Gowthaman studied the leather wrapped grip then the scabbard, calculating the sword’s length to be even longer than the weapon Chance attempted training with that morning. Why Breanna’s brother carried an extra, awkward weapon hinted at the faulty judgment of an untried warrior.

Although Breanna had exhibited wise decision making in past Alastriona affairs, she had agreed to allow her brother to accompany her on this dangerous mission. Gowthaman watched the young man’s broad back. Chance swaggered with the indestructible pride of youth. His skill at weaponry exceeded that of many seasoned Alastriona, but lack of determination and experience showed in his mock battles. This rescue should not be undertaken as a learning experience or a right of passage for the young man. Gowthaman added another failing to his list. He should have reasoned with Breanna about her decision to include Chance.

The others had climbed to the top of the brae but still he held back. Until he accepted the strength of his emotions and the evidence of a soulfire he tried to convince himself he didn’t understand, he’d never be able to let Breanna go. If only he had more time. If only he’d told her that afternoon. Warmth still tingled his skin where she had rested against him and slept. Even though hours had passed, the drug-like after effects of the sweet passion in her kiss scalded through his body. He clutched the journal tighter, his knuckles tight with the strain.