Time Travel Romances Boxed Set (133 page)

Viviane’s palms were damp, her breathing was
short, her heart was pounding. They halted on the tiny landing
before the door and Viviane had a very bad feeling about what was
behind it.

Not just because this was the chamber where
she had most recently been condemned to die.

The fog around their feet now obscured their
legs below the knee. It was luminescent and so cold that Viviane
shivered involuntarily.

Niall pushed the tip of his sword gently
against the door.

It was unlocked.

The door opened inward without a sound,
yawning wide open just from that single slight touch. The cloud of
silvery fog rolled forth to engulf their legs completely, but that
wasn’t why Viviane gasped in astonishment.

The archbishop stood there, his gaze fixed
upon them. “Do come in,” he invited amiably, a thread of steel in
his tone.

*

Around the perimeter of the room stood all
the guards they had not encountered on the way here. Their faces
were frozen, their stares distant, their bodies did not move. They
stood as men enchanted and unaware of all that passed before
them.

Viviane shivered anew. She might have hung
back, but Niall squared his shoulders and stepped forward, and her
hand was still clasped within his.

The door closed with a bang behind them,
apparently of its own accord. Viviane jumped and glanced back, but
Niall didn’t look away from the archbishop.

“
I have been expecting
you.” The archbishop stepped back with a sweep of his black robes
to reveal a large mirror. But the image reflected was not that of
the room - it was the dungeon far below, where Majella and Monty
cradled that woman’s new child.

The scene moved. Viviane started when Monty
tickled the baby’s chin and Majella laughed at his antics.

“
Witchery!” Niall muttered
and the archbishop smiled.

“
I prefer sorcery as a
term, myself, but indeed ’tis much the same thing.” He picked up
Viviane’s moonstone pendant and wiggled it, much as a fisherman
wiggles a baited hook before his prey. “You will have come for
this, I assume.”

“
It is mine,” Viviane
asserted.

“
Nay, ’twas never yours in
truth,” the archbishop argued smoothly. “’Twas granted to you for a
time, ’tis true, but such a token only ever
belongs
to its
maker.”

Niall’s hand tightened around Viviane’s own.
“And you know who that maker was.” There was no question in his
voice.

The archbishop’s smile was as cold as the
mist obscuring the floor of his chamber. It rolled from a bowl
before the mirror, Viviane noted, a bowl of such peculiar hue that
she could not look at it for very long.

“
No less than the finest
sorceror in all the land,” the archbishop declared. He turned the
stone so that it caught the light and straightened with pride. “I
wrought it, of mist and moonlight and adder’s breath.” He arched a
brow before Viviane could ask how it had come to her. “I wrought it
in honor of the birth of mine own spawn.”

Viviane was shocked that he could lie about
such a thing, just to lay claim to her pendant. “But that’s
impossible! My father gave this to my moth…”

Oh! Viviane gasped and took a step backward,
her horror complete when the archbishop’s smile never wavered.

“
Indeed,” he said with the
satisfaction of a well-fed cat. “I see my intellect has passed to
you.” He inclined his head slightly. “How very
flattering.”

Viviane’s bile rose.
This
man was her
father? It couldn’t be!

But suddenly she recalled the moment when
her mother had told her the tale of the stone. It had been here, in
Cantlecroft, after a procession of the archbishop passed by. That
man had been waving at the crowd without truly looking at any of
them. Viviane’s mother had turned pale, then later instructed
Viviane to take the pendant to the archbishop if ever her fortune
wavered.

She had died a fortnight later, before
Viviane could ask the reason why.

Now, she knew. Her mother had recognized the
father of her child. He could not have been the archbishop in the
days of Viviane’s conception. Perhaps her mother had not known
where he had gone.

Viviane wished that they had never found
out.

“
Viviane is your daughter?”
Niall demanded, his outrage clear. “And you condemned your own
blood to die? What manner of man is so faithless as
that?”

The archbishop folded his arms across his
chest and looked impatient. “Truly, ’tis hard to believe that I
once thought you keen of wit, Niall of Malloy. Do you know what
’twould do to my reputation to be found responsible for the birth
of a bastard?”

“’
Twould seem most clever
then to refrain from indulging earthly pleasures,” Niall retorted,
his eyes flashing. Viviane assumed he was thinking of
Majella.

“
Deny myself?” The
archbishop laughed. “I think not.” He gestured broadly to the room.
“Indeed, I pursued this path to ensure my own comfort, and see no
reason to abandon the pleasures of the flesh.” He arched a brow.
“As indeed, I see no reason to make all aware of my indiscretions.
Nay, the moonstone served the purpose ’twas wrought to
serve.”

“
But what of the stone’s
powers?” Viviane demanded. “Why grant such a gift to a
child?”

The archbishop frowned and glanced to the
table that the bowl rested upon. Viviane caught a glimpse of the
winking stone and knew it still lay there. “I did not know,” he
confessed in a low voice. “I never guessed it had such power,
though indeed the revelation is most useful.”

“
Grant the stone to Viviane
again,” Niall urged, stepping forward to make his appeal. “Let her
flee Cantlecroft forever. ’Twould be the same to you as if she
died.”

“
Nay, Niall, I could not go
alone…” Viviane protested, but the archbishop ignored
her.

“
But she could return at
any moment. ’Twould be folly to give another such power over
me!”

“
She would pledge to not do
so! She would swear it, I know it well!”

The archbishop laughed. “And I am to accept
a sworn pledge as ample guarantee. ’Tis mockable! And you would
have me sacrifice this marvel?” The archbishop scoffed. “I think
not. ’Tis far, far preferable that you die and this marvel of mine
own creation remains safely here. Indeed, I have a temptation to
visit these other centuries and learn their secrets.”

“’
Tis abominable!” Niall
muttered. “How could a man send his own child to die?”

But the archbishop glanced at Viviane. “Nay,
’twas
convenient
. I knew as soon as word came of your
arrival, and that you showed such a stone, that you were the fruit
of my loins. And that, dear daughter, was why you had to die.”

He stepped back and lifted his hands. “’Tis
why you still will die.”

The archbishop clapped his hands and the
guards came to life as one. “Guards!” he cried as they bristled to
attention. There were so many of them, even more than Viviane had
first glimpsed, a good two dozen ringing the room. “The witch has
freed herself and must be killed!”

And he pointed one finger directly at
Viviane. The guards brandished their swords, gave a cry and closed
in on Viviane as one.

“
Nay!” Niall roared and
lunged forward. Viviane’s hand was still grasped in his and he
hauled her across the room. He cut down the first attacker with a
single blow, his course unswerving and Viviane knew exactly what he
was trying to do.

He was going to get that stone.

And she was going to do all she could to
help him!

Viviane pulled out her dagger and jabbed at
the face of the man who snatched at her cloak. His visor was up and
she caught the end of his nose, the sharpness of her blade
surprising her. It nicked off the end of his nose and he bled
profusely, crying out and grabbing at the wound.

Niall roared and slashed down another,
releasing Viviane’s hand to grip his hilt and wield it like a
scythe. He cut a path through their attackers, while Viviane jabbed
at all of those who might have fallen on his back.

They were closer, almost within reach of the
table. But they were losing the battle, even Viviane could see.

“
Kill her, kill him,
kill them
!” shrieked the archbishop.

The guards closed in, Viviane’s small blade
no match for their heavy swords. She fought as well as she could,
trying to be unpredictable and nick whoever came within range.

“
Niall,” she whispered
desperately when four closed ranks against her. They would never
make it to that little table in time.

“
Duck,” he muttered and
Viviane had only a heartbeat to follow his bidding before he
straightened with a bellow. He pivoted, swinging the sword low and
scattered their opponents. One fell, the others danced
back.

And Viviane could see the moonstone. She
tried to reach it, but Niall roared. Viviane glanced up in time to
see a blade glance off his shoulder. She stabbed upright into the
neck of the man who dealt Niall the blow, her dagger slipping
between his hauberk and helm. He screamed and fell away, Niall
straightened and cast her a grateful glance.

The stone winked. Two more guards were
closing fast and Viviane had to take the only chance she had. She
darted under Niall’s arm when he raised his sword again and barely
managed to reach the pendant.

Her fingers brushed against it and she
scrabbled for a grip. Her heart leapt as she snatched it up.
Viviane pulled her hand back just as a wicked blade sliced down
like a guillotine. She backed into Niall, clutching the moonstone
over her heart and more than ready to wish.

But Niall wasn’t there.

Viviane spun in dismay, only to find that
they had been separated. Half a dozen men surrounding Niall,
drawing his strikes to one side then another. Viviane saw that they
were deliberately easing him away from her and that there was
nothing he could do about it.

The beleaguered Niall glanced up and she
knew immediately that he had reached same conclusion.

“
Go!” he cried.

Viviane was appalled. “I cannot!”

“
You must,” Niall insisted
through gritted teeth. He fended off another blow, the near miss
making Viviane gasp in fear for his survival.

“
But I love you!” she
cried, fearing she might never have another chance to tell him
so.

“
I know,” Niall muttered,
his low voice audible despite the din. He fired a burning glance
her way. “I beg of you, Viviane, do not let me die for
naught.”

Steel clashed on steel and Niall swore as
his hand was nicked. They set upon him with purpose and Viviane
could only watch in horror.

“
How touching,” the
archbishop mused at startling proximity.

Viviane jumped, she turned, she found him
closing upon her with malice gleaming in his eyes. Two guards were
right behind him, another three cutting off Viviane’s escape.

And even her tiny blade was gone. Niall
still valiantly battled for his freedom off to her right. As much
as Viviane wanted to see the outcome of that, she forced herself to
watch this most dangerous opponent as he drew near. A lump rose in
her throat.

The archbishop halted and stretched out his
hand. “Give me the moonstone,” he urged, his eyes narrowed. “Give
it to me now and I might let you live.”

“
Liar!” Viviane cried in
outrage. His eyes flashed, telling her she had guessed the truth
and he stepped forward with no good intent for her.

“
Viviane!” Niall roared.
“Flee!”

With no other choice remaining, Viviane
tightened her hand around the moonstone and wished. Her last sight
of Cantlecroft was of the archbishop, his features contorted with
fury as he leapt to grab her.

He missed.

Barely.

His anguished cry echoed in Viviane’s ears
long after the blinding light had surrounded her. She was chilled
right to the bone this time, quaking to the depths of her soul. She
cried as she had never cried before, knowing that Niall was too
heavily beset to survive that battle.

And there was nothing she could do about it
now.

She opened her eyes to the blinding glint of
sunlight on azure seas, turned and saw the familiar pines and wept
anew. It was the beach beside Ganges harbor, Viviane would have
known it anywhere.

She was back and she was alone.

But surely she could fix that. Surely she
could go back right now and do something, distract the guards or
call for reinforcements or somehow save Niall. Surely!

Viviane took a deep breath and fumbled with
the pendant as she tried to figure out what exactly to wish. But
her fingers were so cold that the pendant slipped from her
grip.

And before her horrified gaze, it fell.

She snatched after it, but to no avail. The
moonstone hurtled to the earth, struck a stone and shattered to a
thousand shards of cold blue light.

No! Viviane fell on her knees, desperate to
sweep up the bits. She was close enough to see that eerie light
wink out of each and every shard. Even knowing it was useless, she
tried to catch the pieces before the next wave swept in from the
sea.

But the shards were almost immediately
swallowed by the water. They danced before Viviane’s eyes and she
wept, knowing she couldn’t catch them all but still having to
try.

In the end, the sea took all of the broken
moonstone and Viviane was left shaking on Salt Spring’s beach, a
heavy piece of silver in her hand and nothing but an ache in her
heart.