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Authors: Maggie Shayne

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Chapter Seven

“Now you remember.”

It was Lilia’s voice I heard, even though I knew that was
impossible. I was still lying on that basement floor, and I was staring up at
Lilia, all silvery blonde, not dark like before, but aglow, like an angel. She
wasn’t real—and yet she was.

“I remember,” I whispered. Vaguely, I was aware of the sounds
of violence—Harrison and the priest, fighting it out. The box, though…the box
was still in my arms.

“Then you know how important it is that you get the box to
safety. It won’t be long now before Indira will return. She’ll need it.”

“How long?” I asked her.

“Within your lifetime.”

“Shall I keep it, then?”

“They’ll never leave you alone if you do. Father Dom, others
like him, they’re obsessed. But I know a safe place.”

“Where?”

“With a woman. Her name is Meredith Guillome. She works at
Cornell University. She has a calico cat with her wherever she goes. She’s a
witch. Give it to her. No one else.”

“I will. Will I see you again, Lilia?”

“Twenty years,” she told me. “If all goes well, that is.” And
then she looked toward the fighting men. “Best save your dear soldier before
it’s too late. He was always such a brave one.”

And then she shimmered and was gone.

I scrambled to my feet to see the two men struggling and knew I
had only been out for a few seconds. And I also knew that my beautiful Harrison
had risked his life to save mine before.

I spotted a shovel in the corner and, setting my precious box
down, snatched it up, raced over to the men and swung it
hard.

The priest went down like a sack of feed.

And Harrison just stood there staring at me like he’d never
seen me before. “Wow. That was…that was…awesome.”

I smiled. “Just returning the favor.”

He frowned a little, but came closer as I set the shovel down
and bent to pick up the box again. “I’ll carry it. It’s not exactly light.” He
took it from me, tucking it under an arm, and I just stood there, staring up at
him and loving him with everything in me.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve helped me find that box, you
know.”

He blinked. “It isn’t?”

“No.” I kept watching, waiting, thinking he would remember like
I had when I’d held the delicate treasure. But I didn’t see any rush of
recognition in his eyes. Instead I saw something else.

He slid his free arm around my waist and held me close to his
side as we turned and started up the basement stairs, then through the church
and out to his Jeep. “So what happened last time?”

“We ran away together to some faraway land beyond the
desert.”

“Oh, so this happened in Iraq?”

“Before it even was Iraq. It was another lifetime.”

“You don’t say. So we rescued the box, and then we ran off
together.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

He opened the car door for me but didn’t let me in. Instead he
set the box on the seat and looked me in the eye. “And then what?”

“We got married and had a pile of kids and lived happily ever
after.”

He smiled. “You remember all that?”

“I do now.”

“You mind if we put the marriage part off for a few months?
Maybe date for a while first?”

“I don’t mind at all. We’ve got all the time in the world.
Lifetimes, apparently.”

“Come here,” he said, and he pulled me into his arms and kissed
me, long and slow. It was heaven. It was perfect. It was full circle.

Indira was right. Death was not the end. It never had been.

Epilogue

The old woman with the calico cat knew the young couple
was surprised to see her pushing her cleaning cart through the hallowed halls of
Cornell University’s Uris Library. But she thought they were wise enough not to
judge. She knew, as soon as she saw the way they looked at her, and then at her
cat, that they were the ones she’d been told to wait for.

She didn’t know what any of it was about. Only that they would
be coming, they would give her something important, and she would put
it…
away.

The girl, clearly in love, seemed reluctant to part with the
ancient looking box. Pretty thing, she was. As exotic in appearance as the
miniature treasure chest.

“You’re Meredith Guillome?” the girl asked.

“Would you like to see my ID?” As she said it, Merry held up
her name badge, which bore her smiling photo, minus a tooth in the front.
Dropping the tag, she held out her hands for the box.

The girl looked at the man—and a strikingly handsome man he
was, too. What a beautiful couple. He nodded at her, and she reluctantly handed
the box over.

“Don’t worry, child,” Merry told her. “Don’t you worry at all.
I know your family have been the keepers of this box for a long, long time now.
Well, I belong to a long line of keepers, too. Secret keepers. We’ve had lots of
secrets entrusted to us since this university was inaugurated back in
eighteen-sixty-eight. And we know well how to keep ’em safe. Trust me on that
now.”

And she winked and she twinkled, and knew the girl saw it. Then
she tucked the box under some towels in her cart and walked away.

* * *

As we watched the old woman go, I felt the most intense
feeling of relief. As if a huge burden had been lifted from my shoulders. I
turned to my Harrison and said, “We did it. We actually did it.”

He wrapped his arms around me and held me close to him. “I have
the feeling there’s not much we couldn’t do together, Amarrah.”

“I have the same feeling,” I told him.

“Lilia said it would be another twenty years, if all went well.
I hope I get to see them again.”

“I hope to be right by your side when you do,” he said softly.
“What do you think my chances are?”

I looked up at my beloved and smiled. “We’ve been together for
three thousand, five hundred years, one way or another,” I said. “What’s another
twenty?”

He kissed me then, and I knew we would be together forever,
lifetime after lifetime, and beyond.

* * * * *

Look for Indira’s story in
MARK OF THE WITCH
, Volume One of “The
Portal,” the new trilogy from
New York Times
bestselling author Maggie Shayne, available in October from Harlequin MIRA
wherever books are sold.

Don’t miss the rest of The Portal series, coming soon from Maggie Shayne and MIRA Books:

Mark of the Witch

(October 2012)

Daughter of the Spellcaster

(December 2012)

Blood of the Sorceress

(February 2013)

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ISBN: 978-14268-7557-1

Legacy of the Witch

Copyright © 2012 by Margaret Benson

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