The Lady of the Storm - 2 (21 page)

Its eyes looked human. But they held the gleam of madness and Giles did not hesitate.

He leaped forward and swung, his devil-blade singing as it whipped through the air. The creature swiped at Giles but he easily dodged it, dancing away from its longer reach. A look of confusion crossed that monstrous face and it clutched its gut, looking down at the blood that spouted between its claws. It grunted and lunged forward, one long arm taking a last swipe at Giles before it fell.

A claw scratched Giles’s cheek.

As soon as his blade absorbed the blood, Giles sheathed it and strode back to Cecily.

“Do not look at it,” he said, holding out a hand to her. “It is no longer human.”

“Did he… did it have gray eyes?”

“No, Cecily. It was not Thomas.”

Her breath hitched with relief, and then her eyes widened. “It hurt you.”

“’Tis but a scratch. I did not expect that it could move as fast as an elven, and it got lucky.”

She lifted a hand, those delicate fingers moving gracefully as she called a tendril of water. He stood still and allowed her to wash the scratch, even though he knew his elven blood would probably heal it by the time she finished.

She cared for him. He remembered that Cecily had been the one to help him when he had fallen from battle in the village. If only he had realized sooner how much time he had wasted with other women. None of them seemed to satisfy, and he now knew it was because only one woman had been meant for him.

“Cecily.” He had breathed her name out loud.

She smiled, the brilliant one that made her blue eyes dance and her cheeks apple.

“I… damn.” A black wall shivered behind her. “The black flame; it’s coming.”

Cecily gasped.

He grabbed her hand and they ran, both of them clearing the fallen creature with one leap. The glowing orb barely stayed ahead of them as fear prompted them to use their full elven strength to run faster than they ever had before.

Giles heard it coming, hissing and screaming behind them. He felt the heat of it, unlike any other ordinary fire, his back burning like the devil, and wondered how long it would be before his coat burst into flames.

Cecily’s puny drops of water would be like trying to douse a campfire with spit.

But at the thought, he abruptly felt the heat on his back ease a bit. Giles dared a glance and realized the clever girl had devised a liquid wall behind them, protecting their backs for as long as they could stay slightly ahead of the flame.

“Water,” she gasped.

He grinned. “Well done.”

“No. Ahead.”

The trees before them thinned, and he could just spy the gleam of a lake. They leaped over a fallen log, Cecily’s skirts flying upward, staying plastered above her knees from the wind of their flight. That small advantage allowed her to run faster, her legs no longer hampered by her dress.

Giles had no idea she could run like the very wind. He pressed himself to stay ahead of her, admiring her strength, awed by the amount of elven blood that must flow through her veins to give her such abilities.

But they still would not reach the lake in time.

They burst into open ground, sunlight blinding them for an instant. The trees behind them roared as they went up in flame. The heat robbed Giles of breath. The earth shook beneath his boots.

He squeezed Cecily’s hand in farewell.

And then the lake rose up to meet them. An enormous swell curled over their heads and beneath their feet, sending Giles head over heels, Cecily’s hand his only anchor.

Her power continually surprised him. She had called this wave, protecting them from the fire.

But what matter? He would now drown instead of burn. But Cecily would live, and that’s all he truly cared about.

Giles held his breath for as long as he could, until he quit spinning and slowly floated in calm water. Then his lungs demanded a breath and he knew it would be liquid flowing in that would hurt like hell but he opened his mouth…

And then his eyes.

A bubble of air surrounded his head, the sound of his breathing oddly magnified in the small space. Beyond the clear barrier he could see Cecily’s face, her black hair floating around her like some silken cloak, her blue eyes gleaming and more lustrous than he could ever imagine. She smiled, completely at home in her element, chest rising and falling as if the very water itself provided all the nourishment she needed.

Perhaps she did have gills.

Giles pulled her toward him, amazed that they had managed to keep their hands clasped through all of the chaos. Her face penetrated the bubble, a sheen of water over her lovely features, and she kissed him: cold, wet, and utterly delicious.

They floated toward the surface, Cecily twirling around him in some aquatic dance, silver fish weaving around her skirts and nibbling on his coat.

His air grew stale and Giles frowned, but Cecily pointed up and he saw another bubble descend from the surface, and she led him from one to another, the new one settling about him with only a brief plunge into wetness.

“You are…” He could not think of a superlative strong enough. “Astounding.”

She smiled again, almost shyly, and then pointed upward, releasing his hand and kicking away from him.

“Not without me,” he whispered, quickly catching up with her.

The water roiled at the surface, tossing them to and fro, and they both quickly went back down. And waited for the maelstrom to pass. Cecily guided him to the floor of the lake, through grasses that flowed gently back and forth, into schools of fish that parted before them and tickled him with smooth scales and feathery fins. He could barely see in the dim light, more shadows than anything else, but Cecily apparently did not suffer from the same problem, for she guided him with confidence.

The lake had calmed the second time they floated to the surface, and they risked a look above water, Giles’s bubble merging with the open air.

Nothing but ominous forest surrounded the lake.

“We had best hurry,” he said, his voice so much quieter to his ears in the open air. “Who knows how long this will last?”

“But we don’t know where to go.”

“Look.” Giles nodded to a small spot of light on the shore. “Apparently we haven’t lost our guide.”

He had the devil of a time swimming in his clothes. He shed his coat and waistcoat on the way, finally removed his boots and tucked them in his belt before Cecily noticed his struggle. She twisted a hand and propelled both of them to the shore on the back of a wave.

“Thank you, lady,” he said as the water receded. “But you should conserve your strength. We have no idea what this place may do next.”

“I’ll do what’s necessary.” She flicked her fingers at his clothing, shedding the water, making it possible for him to pull on his boots without grimacing. He admired her confidence and worried she would overextend herself, all at the same time. Confounding woman.

She had already turned to follow the orb. Giles caught up with her with a leap, his gaze trying to penetrate the surrounding forest, wondering what sort of other creatures might lie in wait within. How did they survive the inferno? Was it but an illusion that would not harm if one knew the trick of disbelieving it? Did everything reappear after that cleansing?

Giles shook his head, noting that Cecily had dried his hair as well. He should not try and question the chaos of seven conflicting streams of elven magic. He could only try and survive it.

Fortunately the orb did not take them back into the forest. Just beyond the shore of the lake stood an open meadow thick with clover and poppy. A crystal spire sat in the center of it, reminding him of the scenery predominant in Stonehame.

The orb shot across the meadow and disappeared inside the crystal.

Cecily ran after, Giles following a bit slower, watching for the return of black fire and heaven only knew what else. But nothing emerged from the trees and the clover did not change shape and try to swallow them.

“Thomas,” screamed Cecily as she stood before the crystal.

And then she collapsed in a heap of skirt and petticoats.

He crossed the distance still separating them and knelt, pulling her into his arms. “Cecily?”

She breathed, but her lids stayed closed, eyelashes fluttering. After all they had been through, why would she suddenly succumb to shock?

Giles looked over at the crystal. It was more translucent than the quartz that had made up the mountain in Stafford, and instead of shadowy clouds within it he could clearly see… a pair of boots. And above that, a fashionable pair of breeches, a coat threaded with silver. A frilled shirt and a cravat of ruffled lace. And Thomas’s face, his gray eyes wide, his golden hair frozen in a halo about his head.

“Damn,” muttered Giles. And then louder. “Damn you, Thomas! Why did you call her here when you’re already dead?”

That orb of light that had led them here appeared again, flowing out of the crystal and growing to a man’s height. Thomas appeared inside it. “Because this is important.”

Giles glanced from the body frozen in crystal, and to the animated vision of the man in the ball of light. And then back down to Cecily as her eyelashes fluttered open.

“Thomas?” Her gaze skittered over to the crystal, and Giles quickly turned her toward the vision. She sat up, a smile of relief lighting her face. “Father! You frightened me. I thought you were—”

“I am. No, Cecily, don’t you dare faint again. I can’t ever remember you doing such a thing before.” His face creased. “What you must have gone through… I’m sorry to have put you through all of this. But I know you’re strong enough, my girl. I have counted on that.”

Cecily rose very purposely to her feet, brushing at her skirts and adjusting the sleeves of her coat. Giles rose with her, standing by her side, his arm ready for support if she should need it.

“But why?” she demanded. “What could possibly be so important that you’ve brought me half across England and to this—this dreadful place?”

“Information, my dear. And the ring, of course. Our leader needs it.”

Cecily narrowed her eyes, a good healthy dose of anger replacing her sadness. Giles nodded in satisfaction. She would not break.

“You have always put this Rebellion before me,” she snapped. “Why did I think this would be any different?”

Thomas shook his head, his brow crinkling. “That is not true. I protected you from them until the day I died. I could do no more after that. And you were the only one I could reach with my sending.”

“Because I love you.” Cecily clasped her hands together. “Because we share a bond that nothing can sunder. Not even your—”

“Death? You can say it, my dear. I’ve gotten quite used to the idea.”

“But—but how? What happened?”

Thomas swept back his golden hair, and perhaps because he was looking for it, Giles saw the ring upon his finger. A square lavender stone inset in a thick band of gold. No wonder Thomas appeared more youthful than Giles remembered. It looked as if he clutched something else in his other hand, but Giles could not quite make out what it might be.

“I have much to tell you,” Thomas replied. “And although I can send you this illusion much stronger standing next to my body, I do not know how long my strength will last. This place… is quite unpredictable.”

“We know,” muttered Giles.

Thomas glanced at him. “Beaumont. Thank you for keeping her safe.”

Giles nodded.

Thomas’s attention quickly swung back to Cecily. “I need you to take the ring back to our new Mor’ded. You know of his alliance with us? His new… situation?”

Cecily nodded. “He needs it to hide his human age—”

“Precisely. But you must tell him to take to wearing gloves when he speaks with the other elven. La’laylia of Stonehame is aware of the theft, and may recognize the ring and remember a human she once loved long ago.”

“So it
was
Sebastian’s grave. How did you get inside the mountain?”

Thomas smiled, flashing even white teeth. “With music.”

“I should have guessed,” muttered Giles.

“Indeed.” Thomas held up a hollow crystal tube with three finger-holes in the top of it. “It took me some time to discover the whereabouts of the key to the door in the mountain, for I never dreamed it to be in the shape of a flute. The crystal instrument is enchanted with a resonance that responds to the pattern carved on the side of it. I found it in a temple dedicated to La’laylia and had a devil of a time stealing it, and only by sheer chance did I think to play the tune backward to break open the coffin. Unfortunately, the guardians’ tombs opened as well.”

“The creatures surrounding the pavilion,” breathed Cecily.

“Just so. Magical creatures that I had no hope of vanquishing. So I fled.”

Giles could not help the stupefaction in his voice. “To
this
place?”

Thomas shrugged. “It’s amazing what one will do when being pursued by a four-headed snake, a snarling hellhound, a roaring demon… ah, I knew I but traded one danger for another, but I hoped such enchanted creatures would be affected by the wild magic within these woods. And I was right. They… fractured.”