Moonshadow

by Thea Harrison

  Nikolas rose as well and watched her leave. Then he walked back to his glass of brandy to take another hefty swallow. He held it in his mouth for a moment, focusing on the subtle, warming flavor. For good or for ill, they were throwing everything they had at this venture. Everything they had on Sophie’s abilities.

  As she stepped back into the kitchen, he turned. She carried a small bundle of richly colored cloth, which she set on the table while she took a seat. He joined her at the table, sitting opposite her and watching with fascination as she unfolded a dark blue, embroidered cloth. Magic unfurled in the air.

  Holding his hand over the cloth to savor the cool sensation of magic, he said, “You did this. You made this.”

  “Yes.” She looked surprised. “How can you tell?”

  “It feels like you.”

  A tinge of color touched her cheeks. “Is that a good thing?”

  “It’s a very good thing,” he murmured, watching her. That tinge of color was for him, only this time it wasn’t from distress or anger. Surprised by how good that knowledge felt, he pressed for more. “It’s one of the best things I’ve felt in a long time.”

  The pink in her cheeks turned brighter while the expression in her eyes grew vulnerable again. She asked, “What are you doing now?”

  Wanting to feel the real thing, not just her Power, he reached out to stroke the petal-soft skin of her cheek. “I want you to trust me,” he said steadily. “I’m going to ask you to believe that I walked away last night for good reasons, and none of those reasons had anything to do with you. None of them had anything to do with how much I wanted to stay with you. We can talk more about it later, but for now, can you trust me that much?”

  Her breath came out of her on a gentle, unsteady sigh. After compressing her lips together for a brief moment, she nodded. “Okay. I do trust you that much.”

  “Thank you, my Sophie,” he whispered.

  Her attention fell to the pouch she held. Opening it, she shook a pile of polished stones into one palm. They were pretty, rose quartz with gold runes engraved into them. Her eyes went unfocused. “I’m trying to figure out how to phrase the issue. You want answers about what happened.”

  “I guess the key is not so much to find out if I made a mistake.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “The key is to make sure that whatever it was doesn’t happen again. That’s why I haven’t been able to let it go. Maybe it was a mistake I made. Maybe they have an ability to track us that we don’t know about. If Robin created the fog, I can let that go, but maybe the person responsible for the fog wasn’t Robin. Maybe that person was the same someone who also found me.”

  As she listened, she nodded. “So the question becomes, what are the vulnerabilities we have that we do not know?” Her glance darted sidelong at him, as quick as a silverfish, and then away again. She added, “Regarding this conflict. Would that be correct?”

  “Yes.” He sat back and folded his arms. “That’s the essence of the issue.”

  “All right. I can use that. Now I need for you to be quiet and let me work. Don’t ask questions until I’m done.”

  As he watched, she held the stones cupped in both hands for a long moment while her features settled into an expression of concentration. Then she tossed the rune stones gently onto the cloth.

  This was what she had done when she had received the vision of him and when he had connected to the image of her. He watched her closely, fascinated by every small, minute shift in her expression. Her attention focused on things he couldn’t see.

  As he watched, her skin darkened. Her mouth opened as if she would speak, but no sound came out. She placed a hand to her throat, and that was when he realized she wasn’t breathing.

  “Sophie,” he said. His heart pounded.

  When she didn’t respond, he stood so fast it shot his chair back against the wall. He shoved the table aside, sending cloth and stones flying, picked her up, and laid her quickly on her back, on the floor.

  She still isn’t breathing.

  Panic fired along all his nerve endings. Gently he parted her lips and ran his forefinger through her mouth to make sure there weren’t any obstructions. He hadn’t seen her put anything in her mouth, but he had to make sure. Then he sealed her lips with his and blew air into her lungs. Then again. And again.

  “Come on,” he rasped in between breaths. What do you say when your world has stopped? “What the fuck is the matter with you, Sophie, come on.”

  After giving her three breaths, he felt for a pulse. Part of him couldn’t believe he was doing this. She had been fine. She had just been fine.

  Suddenly she broke into a spasm of coughing, and it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. Her eyes flared wide. She stared at him, then rolled onto her side, sucking air and coughing.

  “Easy, take it easy,” he said hoarsely while he rubbed her back. “You’re okay.”

  But you almost weren’t.

  As she pushed herself into a sitting position, he slid an arm underneath her to help, then he kept gathering her up until he held her in his arms. She didn’t appear to mind. Either she was shaking or he was. Gods damn, this day had been hell on his nerves, and he hadn’t even seen any combat.

  He knew how to fight and fight well. He didn’t know how to deal with any of this other shit. At this point, combat would be a relief.

  Rein it in, Nik. One thing at a time.

  Putting his face in her hair, he forced himself to say calmly, “You stopped breathing. Are you aware that you stopped breathing?”

  “I came to that conclusion,” she croaked. She was still sucking in great lungsful of air. “I need a drink of water.”

  Immediately he rose, rinsed her brandy glass and filled it with fresh water, and brought it to her. He knelt on one knee while she drank. She drained the glass, and he took it from her to set it aside.

  As her color returned to normal, he said, again in a too-calm voice, “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me that casting the runes was so dangerous? If I had known, I never would have asked that of you.”

  “Normally, they’re not.” Her voice hitched and sounded raspy. She coughed again. “Normally I just see your garden-variety type of vision. This is only the second time it’s become too real. I’ve got to stop throwing those stones.”

  He agreed wholeheartedly. While he glanced around the kitchen, he opened his senses wide to check for dangerous magic. Was there a hint of something in the air that he had felt before, something on that first day when the Hounds had ambushed him? Some other Power in play…

  There, low to the ground, he saw the monkey peering around the corner, watching them from the doorway to the sitting room. Even for a monkey, Robin wore an odd expression, looking somehow feral and sad all at once.

  Rage detonated deep inside. Nikolas hissed, Did you do this to her? After everything she has done for you?

  The puck whisked out of sight. Intent on going after him, Nikolas started to rise. The only thing that stopped him was Sophie reaching for his hand. She looked so distressed he abandoned going after the puck for the moment and put his arms around her.

  She tucked her face into the crook of his neck and leaned against him, and it was so unlike her usual, snappy self he had no choice but to enfold her, cradling her against his chest as close as he could.

  The detonation of rage didn’t die. Instead, it grew stronger. He growled, “What did you see in the vision?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” she whispered.

  Her voice sounded hurt and small, which frankly made a part of him crazy. He hated that something had managed to get inside her and wound her like that. He cupped her head as if to shield her from the world.

  As if to shield her most especially from himself, even as he said in a quiet, hard voice, “It doesn’t matter whether you want to or not. You have to talk about it.”

  When she didn’t respond, he slipped a hand underneath her chin and forced her to look up. Her eyes had filled with tears, and
she looked at him with such… such compassion?… it started an entirely different alarm going off inside him.

  “What?” he said.

  Her face tightened. “In the vision, one of your men tried to kill me.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “No,” Nikolas said. “I don’t accept that.”

  He still held her just as tightly, but his expression told her louder than his words that he rejected everything she had just said.

  She knew he was going to react that way before she ever said anything. How could he not? He had known his men for far longer than she had been alive. They were his compatriots, his brothers and fellow soldiers, and he had already shown the depth of his commitment to them and to his people.

  “Maybe it’s a horrible misunderstanding,” she said. “Maybe he didn’t realize I’m on your side. Really, truly, I’m on your side. I’m helping you, and I want to help you. If we make that clear to them when they arrive, there won’t be an issue, right?”

  He stared at her almost as if he hated her, and that look in his eyes really hurt, but she had the smallest inkling of what he must be feeling, so she sucked it up and took it.

  “You said, what are the vulnerabilities we have that we do not know?” he said through tight lips. “Right?”

  She nodded.

  “What did the man look like?”

  “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  His dark eyes snapped with anger. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

  “I mean, I do not know. Someone came up to me from behind, and he started choking me. We were inside the manor house. The only ones inside were you and your men, me, and Robin.”

  “Robin,” he growled, looking around with fresh rage.

  His expression was frightening. She pulled out of his arms, rolled to her knees, and stood. As she turned to face him, she found that he had stood as well. “Why are you so angry at Robin?”

  “He interfered with your vision somehow. I don’t know what he did. He enhanced it, or he directed it. Maybe he twisted it.” Nikolas snarled at the direction of the sitting room. “Come out here, you little bastard.”

  “Nikolas.” She took hold of his wrists. “Stop. You’re reacting emotionally, and why wouldn’t you? My God, I’m reacting emotionally. I didn’t want to say those words to you, and I can only imagine how you must be feeling.”

  “Can you, really?” He confronted her fiercely. “Those men are my family.”

  “Okay,” she said in a gentle voice, her fingers tightening on him. “It was a mistake. The vision went wrong, that’s all. We can let it go. I don’t know what Robin intended, but I do not believe he would intentionally hurt me.” She raised her voice. “Would you, sweetheart?”

  As if in reply, Robin crept into the kitchen. Giving Nikolas a wide berth, the monkey raced toward Sophie. When she held open her arms, he leaped into them. The puck buried his face into her chest, and she hugged him tightly.

  Glaring at Robin, Nikolas started to pace like a caged, wild creature. “Tell me what you saw.”

  “No. It’ll only make things worse.”

  He rounded on her, his face blazing. “Tell me what you saw.”

  She took a step back while she searched his face for any sign of understanding or belief. He was reacting like a wounded animal, and gods, she didn’t blame him.

  She told him, “I don’t believe this is the right time to have this conversation.”

  Nikolas opened his arms wide. “When else, Sophie?” he snarled. “My men are going to be here soon. We’re all alone, just you and I. Tell me, when else should we be talking about this?”

  She looked down into Robin’s eyes. He looked so sad. Stroking the puck’s head, she said softly, “We were all in the manor house, and I knew we’d been looking for the answers to the broken pieces of crossover magic. It’s just background to the vision, that knowledge. It puts everything in place, you know? Then I was on my own, somewhere in a big room, or maybe a long one. I was really excited about something, but someone came up from behind, put his hands around my throat, and started choking me. I fought, but he was really strong, as… as I’m sure you can imagine. He was tall too, maybe as tall as you are or even taller. A big man, with big hands, not someone as small as a puck.” She kissed the monkey and whispered to him, “It wasn’t you, was it?”

  Ooh-ooh, the monkey mouthed, eyes wide and solemn. He shook his head.

  Telepathically, she asked, Robin, why did you interfere with the vision?

  She didn’t expect a reply. By then, she had stopped expecting Robin to answer anything she said to him, so it was with a sense of immense surprise that she heard a voice, dry like the rustle of autumn leaves, say in her head, Because you needed to know. Though he may not forgive Robin for it, he needs to know. Some of us are not who we seem, dear love. The puck patted her throat with both hands. Robin did not realize his interference might hurt you.

  Some of us are not who we seem. What did the puck mean by that?

  It’s okay, she whispered back. But don’t do it again.

  His response was fervent. No, never again.

  Robin, did you interfere with my first vision of Nikolas? As the monkey hung his head, she said, You did, didn’t you? What were you hoping for?

  Help, the puck whispered. A puck was hoping for help. The Queen made him do things he didn’t want to do. Create fog, hide murders, dance like a monkey to her wicked whims.

  “Hoping for help…,” she murmured aloud, staring at him. Once her mind started piecing things together, it wouldn’t stop. “Robin, did you have anything to do with my car breaking down the night I found you on the road?”

  Because it really was unusual for her technology curse to cause something as big as the car to stop working. And it was even more suspect that the car had started again perfectly, right afterward.

  A puck was hoping for help, waiting for so long, Robin whispered. Waiting for someone to notice he was gone, taken and lost, but no one ever came. So Robin helped himself. When you arrived, no matter how the terrible rope fought and bit him, he broke free and threw the last of his strength at a Sophie.

  He sounded so distressed she hugged him tightly. “Nobody understood where you had gone, but you have help now, I promise. You’re not alone anymore.”

  On the other side of the table, Nikolas stood with his hands on his hips, staring at them. He carried so much bitter anger his Power felt like a volcano about to explode, all the more dangerous for that he had himself so contained.

  “He’s finally talking, isn’t he?” Nikolas said abruptly. “He’s talking to you.”

  “The Queen forced him to do things,” Sophie said. “When he created the fog, he did something more that must have interfered with my vision like he did just now. He said he was looking for help. He also made my car break down when I first arrived, and he threw the last of his strength into escaping.”

  As she spoke, it took a concentrated effort to meet the dark, forceful blaze in his eyes. She could no longer tell if Nikolas was her ally, and it was astonishingly difficult to confront that reality. She had grown so quickly accustomed to the rapport that had been developing between them.

  “Robin, did you help the Queen’s Hounds find me that day?” Nikolas’s fury seemed to reach its peak. “Did you?”

  Robin seemed to shrink in Sophie’s arms. Patting her throat again gently with his spidery hands, he whispered in her head, Robin tried to show you. Things are not what they seem to be. A brother is not a brother. A house that is broken might still hold the key. The strongest force might still yet win the day, and holding true can create and heal all worlds, but dear love, beware the false one who betrays. He looked sidelong at Nikolas. He cannot hear these words. He loves too well in the wrong places.

  A brother is not a brother.

  Beware the false one who betrays. Oh dear God.

  As the heavy message in Robin’s words sank in, her arms loosened. Robin said in Sophie’s head, Robin must go to crea
te a storm.

  Just as Nikolas strode forward to try to grab at Robin, the puck leaped away and disappeared down the hall. “Stop,” Sophie said to Nikolas. When he made as if to lunge down the hall after Robin, she threw herself in front of him and grabbed his arms. “Nikolas, stop it! Leave him alone! Robin didn’t have anything to do with how the Hounds found you. All he did was create the fog.”

  “How can you still believe him after the way he hurt you?” Nikolas snapped. He glared at her. “By all the gods, Sophie. You. Stopped. Breathing. What would you have done if you’d been alone?”

  “That didn’t happen.” Somehow she managed to say the words more or less steadily. “Nik, you may not believe Robin. That’s your choice, but I believe him. He didn’t mean to hurt me. It was a mistake, and he’s sorry. Listen—Listen!” As he shrugged off her hold angrily, she caught at him again. “He tried to influence the vision, but he wasn’t in control of it any more than I was. That’s the whole point of divination magic, do you understand? I don’t force my needs and desires to make up images. I open myself up to the images that come to me, based on the questions I ask, and the visions always carry some element of truth to them. Robin’s interference that first time might have made us see each other, which is definitely not normal, but it wasn’t false.”

  For a moment she thought she hadn’t broken through to him. The violent emotions thrumming through his taut body felt like an arrow, notched and pulled to its most taut point before being loosed in a killing shot.

  Then the tension pulled back, and he stopped straining against her hold. In a low voice filled with reluctance, he muttered, “I hear you.”

  Relaxing slightly, she let her hands fall from his arms, and she realized for the first time that her neck actually felt sore. Clearing her throat, she said huskily, “I guess we accomplished something then.”

  But at what cost?

  “I need some air,” Nikolas said. Not looking at her, he turned and walked out.

  The cottage felt strange after he had gone: bigger, colder, and emptier. At a momentary loss, Sophie looked around at the scattered stones, the magic-embroidered cloth on the table, and the brandy bottle still sitting on the counter.