“Or maybe it’s all a hallucination.” But at this point she was willing to believe anything was indeed possible. She turned the cube over and over, wondering how to make the room match the vision in the cube.
“Why can’t anything be easy?” she muttered, turning the cube in her hands once again. “I am Talia Trahaern, the royal healer,” she intoned, then made a face. “And I sound ridiculous.” She looked at herself sitting behind the cluttered desk in the cube, then swept her hand over the surface. Nothing was there. “Dammit.”
Then the person inside the cube spoke and she froze, unable to do so much as blink. Because it wasn’t her own voice that spoke to her. It was her mother’s.
“I am sealing this record,” she said, the lilting Welsh accent so pure in her voice Talia’s eyes instantly burned with tears. “There is trouble afoot and I can’t be certain even this sanctuary won’t be breached.”
Talia’s breath caught and she found herself stroking the tiny image of her mother.
“This will only open again for me, Cynan.” There was a pause and Talia watched her mother’s hand disappear beneath the desk. “Or the one who follows me.”
Tears streamed unheeded down Talia’s face. “Oh, Mummy.” Talia swallowed against the tight lump in her throat. Had her mother been stroking her burgeoning belly as she said those words? Talia knew she had.
“But I don’t know how to open it, Mum,” she said on a choked whisper.
Cynan. There had been such warmth in her voice when she’d said the king’s name. Just Cynan. Not His Royal Highness or any other title of honor. Perhaps they’d become close during her attendance to him. She supposed her mother’s role would have made her a valued guide and aide to the king.
“Time is of the essence. Record, seal,” her mother said. Then the cube went black.
“No!” Talia scooped it up and turned it over and over. “Don’t go! Come back!” She peered frantically into it. “I am Talia Trahaern,” she said, desperation in her voice. “I am the royal healer.” But the cube remained a cold, solid black, making Talia wonder for one hysterical moment if she indeed had been hallucinating the whole thing.
But she hadn’t. And once again, she hadn’t been able to say good-bye to her mother.
She stared into the cube, reaching out with everything she had, but all she saw was her reflection once again.
Now what? Feeling drained and emotionally exhausted, Talia wiped at her face and sniffed back fresh tears as she again looked about the empty chamber. “Maybe I’m not a healer,” she whispered, finally giving voice to her greatest fear. Maybe her mother hadn’t known it when she carried her, but had figured it out after. Could something have happened because she was born in the past? Perhaps that was why her mother hadn’t told her, never trained her.
“And perhaps I’m losing what is left of my mind.”
She looked at the cube. Maybe she should take it to the queen, see if there was a way to view her mother’s message again. She stood and walked toward the antechamber, but the instant she passed through the doorway, the cube vanished. She gasped and whirled around, only to find it perched on the desktop. “Okay,” she said shakily. So it wasn’t leaving the room.
But she was. She put the cube back in the drawer and walked from the room to the antechamber. “Guard,” she called loudly. “I’m ready to leave.”
As the wall in front of her turned translucent, she took one last look behind her. The wall was already materializing, closing the room from her view.
“Good-bye, Mummy,” she whispered. And she did feel a sense of peace then, and was grateful for this one last connection with the only family she’d ever had. “I love you.”
Chapter 20
Archer had a bad feeling about this meeting. He assured himself that the queen had Talia under surveillance and wouldn’t let anyone harm her. Guards had remained on duty all along the passageway. She’d be fine.
He admitted that what was really bugging him wasn’t so much relinquishing his role of protector as not being there when she went through her mother’s things. He understood that it was a private moment for her. He simply wanted to share all her moments, private and otherwise.
The guards stopped and he was ushered into another room. Marletta awaited him on the other side. “Her Royal Highness is extremely fatigued. Please keep that in mind during the course of your meeting.”
Archer nodded, wanting to hurry so he could return to Talia.
She ushered him through another hidden wall to a short passageway, then through a small door that led into the same room he and Talia had been in yesterday. Only this time there was no darkness. The room wasn’t brightly lit, but he could see Catriona clearly.
The queen was abed, as before. He was startled to see that she looked considerably more fragile. Her youth was far more apparent beneath sallow skin and limp hair. Her thinness made her swollen belly look oddly misshapen in contrast. Her eyes, however, were still sharp and quite focused. “Thank you, Marletta. Did you receive the results?”
The assistant looked surprised by the question and darted a look at Archer, as if the matter were personal and she was surprised the queen had mentioned it in front of him. She nodded. “Yes, Your Highness.”
There was a long pause and Archer could feel the tension in the room grow.
“And are they as I assumed?”
Marletta made no eye contact with him this time, in fact she seemed to stand more rigidly apart from him. “Your Highness—” She stepped forward and whispered, “Catriona, really, don’t you—”
“Yes or no?” The imperious tone left no room for equivocation.
Marletta regained her composure. “Yes. They are what you assumed.”
The queen showed no visible response to the news, but her voice was very tight when she responded. “Thank you, Marletta. Tell Tibbus I appreciate his swiftness.” She paused to clear her throat. “Please leave us now.”
Archer thought her assistant was going to argue, but she merely tightened her mouth and nodded, then left quietly through the door they’d entered yesterday.
“Mr. Archer, I must have more information from you.”
He faced her squarely. “I have told you all I can.”
“Perhaps and perhaps not. I would like to speak with Baleweg.”
“As I said yesterday, he’s not comfortable at court. It would draw undue attention to him and that wouldn’t be wise for Talia, or for you.”
The queen considered this, then said, “I would ask something else of you, then.”
“What would that be?”
“I want more information on the Dark One. To better help me understand just how powerful Chamberlain’s sway might be. I need to know how far his assistance with Chamberlain reaches. I feel it likely extends beyond attempting to thwart our mission to return the healer to court.”
Archer agreed she had a point, but said nothing.
“I understand the wisdom of keeping the Old One at a distance from this court, but in lieu of that, I would like you to go to him and request his help in this matter. Surely he knows more about his counterpart than he’s revealed thus far.”
“Why not do something about Chamberlain now? Remove him from parliament, strip him of his title and power.”
“With or without the Dark One’s assistance, Chamberlain is a danger to me. As I said before, I do not have the proof I require for a swift judgment in parliament. There would be severe political repercussions if I failed, and Chamberlain has a large enough following as it is.”
“Loyalty that comes under penalty of threat—”
“—is still loyalty,” the queen rejoined. “I will reward the Old One’s assistance in whatever manner he wishes.”
“It’s been my experience that Baleweg is not motivated by reward.”
“Ah, yes. His loyalty is to our departed royal healer.” She paused a long moment, as if deliberating, then abruptly said, “As this has been a day for revelations, there is another matter
I must discuss with you. Something that has nagged at me since meeting Miss Trahaern yesterday. It regards a story told so long ago I’m sure it’s more myth than fact, but at the risk of appearing ridiculous, I ask anyway.” She eyed him steadily. “I have no real understanding of what powers the Old One and the Dark One have mastered, but the myth stands that they can transcend time and move from place to place by the sheer power of their minds.” She focused on him directly. “Do you know anything about that?”
For several moments Archer debated what to reveal but realized that there was no point in skirting the truth any longer. “I know that their powers are great. And yes, the manipulation of time is among their achievements. I don’t know how they do it, or all the rules of nature that allow it to happen. But it does.”
“Damn.” Her quiet vehemence surprised him. “How stupidly arrogant and blind I have been.” She suddenly gripped her head and it was clear she was in an extreme amount of pain. Archer went to step forward, but she stopped him immediately. “Come no closer.” She took a moment to manage the pain, but Archer remained concerned. He understood her illness to be the sort that ravaged the body from the inside, not contagious in any way. Maybe she simply couldn’t stand the fact that she must appear so weak in front of another. That he could understand.
“Should I call for Marletta?”
She shook her head. With her eyes still squeezed shut, she asked, “Is that where you found her? In another time?”
Archer saw no reason to hedge any longer. “Yes.”
She opened her eyes, her expression severe, but the resentment was aimed at herself. “My father was certain Eleri had managed to leave this time. No one believed him, no one. Even after he married and I was born, he persisted in his belief. As I grew older, I joined those who thought my father was merely clinging to false hopes. I pitied him his weakness and thought him a fool.”
She rubbed again at her head.
Archer hated feeling so helpless in the face of her obvious suffering. She was worsening by the moment. “You should let Talia see you. Maybe she learned something from her mother’s room today—”
The queen lifted her hand. “That will not come to pass.”
She sounded so certain, so final. He wasn’t the type who gave up and he knew all about fighting for his life. He’d always thought of the queen the same way. “How can you be so certain? Why did you have me track her down in the first place?”
She looked sharply at him. “Call it the last, desperate act of a dying woman. I had no other hope, nothing to lose. Frankly, I never thought you’d find her mother and of course I had no idea there was a daughter.” She stopped again, her attention shifting, as if she were grappling with some other, insurmountable situation. “I still can’t believe it,” she said, almost under her breath. “I should have believed him. Perhaps if we’d had more faith in him, he’d have had the support necessary to find her sooner,” she said, her voice filled with quiet despair. “My mother was so bitter … so bitter. And I let that bitterness color my perception of—” She broke off and dipped her head. “If only I’d trusted him, understood more clearly what I know now. Things could have been so different.”
Archer had never paid any real attention to the royal family. Everyone had known that Cynan and his daughter were somewhat reserved around each other, but he thought that all royals were naturally stiff and formal. “You do have faith in him,” he said. “Maybe it just took being that desperate to realize it. Otherwise you would have never considered hiring me, to try again when everyone else except your father had accepted failure.”
She looked to him, surprised.
“I don’t claim to know anything about you, or him. But I imagine he understood your skepticism,” Archer continued. “And yet I suspect he would be fiercely proud of you. Everything you’ve done for your kingdom, your people, would be considered an honor to him.” Archer knew he’d far overstepped his bounds. But right now he wasn’t talking to her as his queen, but as someone struggling with issues of life and death, love and hate. Those he understood well.
“I wouldn’t have expected such insight into the heart from you,” she said, finally looking at him. “You speak as if it comes from experience. Yet I know your past to be anything but heartwarming.”
Archer recalled her allusion to his past on their first meeting. His gaze narrowed. “What do you know of that?”
“I prefer to know as much as possible about those I hire. Good business practice.” A very slight smile curved her lips. “If it’s any consolation, it took some digging.” Her mouth smoothed and he could see her struggle against the pain. “So if your insight didn’t come from your past, perhaps there is someone new you learned such wisdom from.”
Archer thought of his heart and immediately pictured Talia. “Perhaps there is.”
Her gaze narrowed then and he was pleased to see a certain sharpness return, even if he was the focus of it. “Talia?”
He saw no reason to deny it. After all, she knew better than anyone where they’d spent the night. “Yes.”
“I must admit I am surprised once again. I hadn’t placed such importance on your liaison. You haven’t known each other long.” Her mouth twisted into a dry smile. “But then I should be used to the suddenness of love.” The smile vanished, a frown suddenly replacing it as if another thought had just occurred to her. “You have plans, then?”
He was surprised by the question and her apparent disapproval of the possibility. Odd that she didn’t mind him having wild sex with Talia in her own castle, but was unhappy thinking it might be more than that. However, now was not the time for arguing about his worthiness or lack thereof. Especially given his answer. “There are no plans. Talia’s only commitment when she came here was to help you and your unborn child. It remains that way.”
“How very mature, your love for her. I don’t think I could be quite so generous.” Her gaze drifted to her stomach and she covered it almost protectively with her hands.
Archer realized how distinctly different she was now in contrast to the day she’d hired him. It was clear now that this baby meant a great deal more to her than insurance that the House of Dalwyn would continue their rule.
“Surely if she’s come this far, you should let her try. You said yourself you had nothing to lose.”
The queen didn’t look at him. She just kept rubbing her hands over her stomach.
Archer felt something primal shift within him as he watched her stroke her unborn child. He had always valued the preciousness of life, or he wouldn’t have fought so hard to keep his intact. But this touched him in some deeper place. The vulnerability of the child within her called to a part of him he’d thought long buried. And despite the fact that he better than anyone knew that not everyone shared the value he placed on it, he couldn’t look at the queen’s face at this moment and not believe that she felt the same way.
“Please,” he said as gently as he knew how. “Let me get Talia. Let her try.”
She was silent for so long that Archer finally wondered if he shouldn’t simply make a quiet retreat, find Talia, and bring her back here to try and do whatever could be done. He couldn’t accept that Catriona wouldn’t at least try.
Then a smile slowly curved the young queen’s lips. There was such heartbreaking sadness in it that he couldn’t look away. And yet, when she looked at him, what he saw in the depths of that unimaginable sadness and pain … was hope.
She reached to her side and pressed a small device that lay on her bed. “Bring Talia Trahaern to me.”
Archer’s heart began to pound. She was going to fight! But even as he tightened his fist in silent victory, he worried about Talia. It had been one thing to offer Talia’s help when he was thinking only of the dying woman in front of him. But now that the queen was calling for her, Archer’s concerns shifted to what Talia would be put through and damned himself for being so anxious to put her there.
Still, he knew that if she were here, she’d be pushing t
he same issues, doing whatever she could to help and damn the toll it took on herself. That was who she was. There was always the hope for a miracle.
“Allow me to escort her,” he said, thinking at least he could prepare Talia somewhat, warn her, comfort her.
The queen was once again staring at her hands rubbing her stomach. “She is already on her way.” She looked up at him, her expression now almost beatific. “Finally, I think I have found a solution.”
Chapter 21
Talia left the healer’s chamber in the company of six personal royal guards. She wondered where Archer was. The head guard stopped short just outside the room. “Your gazzer, please.”
She almost ran into him. “My—what?” The guard sent a pointed look to her side pocket. He extended his hand. “Please.”
“Oh.” She fumbled in her pocket and handed Archer’s zapper thing to the guard, who promptly handed it to another one next to him, who in turn headed off down a different passageway. “It’s Archer’s,” she added, not wanting them to dispose of something that wasn’t hers. He’d be mad enough when he discovered she’d given it up without a fight, though frankly she was relieved not to have the deadly thing in her pocket. She wasn’t cut out to be armed and dangerous. In fact, she was surprised Archer had been allowed to remain armed inside the castle. Maybe the queen felt better with him guarding her as well as her own guards.
“It is being returned to him now. Follow me, please.”
She fell into step behind him. “Is he still with the queen?”
“The queen wishes a private consultation with you.”
Talia nodded, but her knees felt a bit wobbly. Consultation? Was she expected to be a full-fledged healer now that she’d spent an hour or two with her mother’s things? She hoped not. Tears threatened again and she pushed them away. She’d gotten to see her mother, hear her voice. She had new memories now. She’d cling to them.
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