"Woman," Angus sputtered.
"I know. I'm coming." She looked deep into Peter's eyes. "Find her, and bring her to me."
The words echoed in his head, almost the same as those spoken by Kelsey when she had sent him to seek Regan seven years before. He watched Angus take his wife by the hand and lead her back toward the castle, then whispered into the white stallion's ears and galloped into the darkness.
*****
Kelsey hovered above the pale still form stretched upon the bed. My God, it's me. What's with all the machines and tubes?
She floated closer. Life support. I guess I'm going to die. Somehow the idea didn't frighten her. She felt a sharp sting of pain as an image of a grieving Regan flashed through her mind.
The door opened and a nurse came in. She picked up the chart at the foot of the bed, checked the machines, then hung the chart back in its place.
Look at her, Kelsey thought, indignant at the woman's indifference. She's more interested in the gizmos than me. Hey, I'm a person. I'm still here.
A doctor came into the room. He looked a question at the nurse.
"No change," she said.
He sighed. "It's time. We've done all we can."
"Do you want me to get him?"
"No, I'll tell him."
Another man waited at the door. She couldn't see who it was, but recognized the questioner's low voice.
"Massive head trauma?" he said.
Duncan, sweet Duncan. How had his meeting gone? Had there even been a meeting, or had her accident interrupted it?
She heard Duncan's voice rise in anguish. "No."
"Think of her," the doctor said. "Would she want to go on this way? No brain activity, and a machine breathing for her?"
"I know you're right," Duncan cried. "But to let her go? She loved life."
She ached to go to him, but was afraid to venture further from her body. I love you, she tried to send to him. Not the way I loved Rourk, but I would have made you happy.
There were more whispered words and then she heard him say, "Let me get something from her house first. I want her to have it before you......" He couldn't finish the sentence.
The doctor patted Duncan's arm. "Fine. We'll wait."
*****
Peter looped Skylar's reins around a limb, then patted the stallion's nose. "I will return soon with Kelsey by my side."
With the word of passing held firmly in his mind, he stepped into the rift.
Two hours later he stood on the Victorian's front porch. All looked the same. With his knock, the unlatched door swung open.
"Hello. Kelsey?" He heard a crash and then a muffled curse from upstairs. He headed toward the sound.
A man stood in Kelsey's bedroom, ripping open drawer after drawer in her bureau.
"Where is it? Where is it? She'd want it. I know she would," the man said, then stopped to stare into space and rake his fingers through his hair.
"Excuse me," Peter said.
The man whirled to face the doorway. "Who the hell are you?"
"Where is Kelsey?" Peter said.
"Kelsey?" the man repeated, a shudder shaking his frame.
A cold dread flooded Peter. "I want to see my sister."
The man stared at Peter for a long moment. "She doesn't have a brother."
"Not sister by blood. Sister by marriage and love. I am Peter Canterville. And you are?"
The man stumbled back and sat on the edge of the bed. "Is Regan with you? She's a blood relative. She can stop them."
"I am alone. Now where is Kelsey?"
A sob choked his voice. "She's dying..."
Peter's heart skipped a beat. "Take me to her."
The man stood and moved to a nightstand.
"I must be with her now," Peter said.
Duncan jerked open a small drawer. "I've got to find it. I know she'd want it."
"What is it you seek?" Peter's voice rose in frustrated anger. Why did this fool keep rummaging through the drawers?
"Her pendant. I know she would want it."
"Kelsey will have it with her." Peter grabbed the man's arm. "We must hurry. Take me to her."
They stood outside Kelsey's room. "May I have some alone time with her?" Peter said.
"Of course."
Peter crossed to the bed and stared into Kelsey's face. Her eyes opened, but no life showed there.
Kelsey, what has happened to you? He reached to touch her hand. It was cold. Peter tucked it gently beneath the sheet, then cupped her cheeks with his hands and stared into her unblinking eyes.
"Come back to me," he whispered.
Kelsey floated toward him and touched his hands caressing her cheeks. Peter, I'm here. The words edged into his mind.
His head jerked up and he searched the air above her body. I feel you, Kelsey. Perhaps it is not too late.
He urged the Power inside his stomach to grow. A blue aura encased his hands and spread across Kelsey's face and head. It drifted down her body. When it reached her feet, her body jerked. She cried out, lunged upward to a sitting position and then fell back.
“What are you doing?" A nurse ran into the room. She grabbed Peter's arm, jerked him away.
He stumbled and collapsed into a chair.
"Kelsey?" Duncan elbowed the nurse aside.
Peter drew great gulps of air into his lungs and watched as the wide-eyed nurse pushed a button over and over, never removing her gaze from Kelsey's face, while Duncan cried and laughed at the same time as he gripped Kelsey's hand.
Fighting against the black edging his vision, Peter stood on shaking legs and moved to the end of her bed. Kelsey's eyes, open and once again alive, sought his.
"Peter?" she whispered.
The world around him tilted and he gripped the bed's railing to keep from falling. “Come home, Kelsey."
She nodded and mouthed the words. "I am."
Two doctors rushed into the room. "Out. All of you. Now."
Peter turned and made his way from the room. He had never used so much of the Power before. He must get home to Daradawn and Regan.
*****
Peter swayed inside the void of the rift. One step more, only one step and I will be home. By the Goddess, give me strength. I must get to Regan.
Darkness surrounded him. He sought the Power within, but found only a speck of blue.
Walk. Take a step.
Then hands gripped his arms and pulled him forward.
"I have you," Angus said. "Lean on me." Something warm was pushed into his hands. "Drink. It's from Margeaux."
Peter gulped liquid fire. It dropped into his stomach and spread, chasing some of the weakness away. He sought the Power. It flickered, but still remained a blue ember. He needed Regan, but feared even her aid would not be enough this time.
"Why are you not with Regan?" he whispered.
"She had another dream. It was me or her. She wouldn't have it any other way."
Peter saw Skylar and stumbled toward the stallion. "Go through again and wait. Kelsey is coming."
"The rift's been open for three days. What has taken her so long?"
"She will explain all." Peter tried to pull himself onto Skylar's back, but his quivering arms and legs betrayed him.
He felt hands plant themselves on his butt and then he was pushed upward. Aboard Skylar he looked down into Angus's concerned face. "Thanks friend."
Peter gave Skylar his head and the stallion raced into the night.
*****
Kelsey stared at the white walls surrounding her. Alone at last. They'd prodded, probed, asked so many questions she thought her head would explode, and then slipped her a sedative. She still didn't know how it had happened, but she'd gone out in an instant and been comatose all night.
She glanced at the window. It had to be close to eight in the morning. Soon they'd be at her again. All the malarkey about miracles was just that, malarkey. Doctors didn't like miracles. They wanted everything concrete, and her recovery wasn't. She'd almost
laughed at the superstitious fear she'd seen in their faces. What was this, the eighteenth century? The next thing you know, they'd be burning her at the stake.
Kelsey swung her legs off the bed. She couldn't believe Peter came for her, but thank God he had. Her lips thinned in exasperation. The drunk driver had stolen three of her days. Three whole days, and she'd lose them all if she didn't get out of here.
The closet held nothing but her backpack. She'd asked Duncan to get it for her and he had. Kelsey opened it, pulled out a change of clothes and dressed with one eye on the door.
Holding the pack by its strap, she looked down the empty hall. First home, and then to the rift. She couldn't waste any more time.
*****
Kelsey signed the scribbled note to Duncan who slept on the living room sofa. She could wake him, try to explain. She abandoned that thought in an instant. She'd make him understand when she returned from Daradawn. His Toyota Avalon was parked in front of the house, the key in the bowl by the front door, as usual. She propped the note next to the bowl and jogged out the door.
Chapter Three
No," Regan said, and turned away from Peter. "I can't. You know my lack of control when I'm pregnant."
"You have to. The Power is almost gone."
She refused to look at him. "You can live without it, only until the baby comes, then I'll do it."
Peter's pale face grew even paler. "Would you wait?"
"Peter, I could kill you."
"I will take the chance. I am only half alive. I have never felt this way before. It is as if part of me is all ready dead."
Regan shook her head. "I want my husband and the father of my children to live."
"I am but a shell!"
"For only a few days."
Peter grabbed both her hands. "Regan, you can control it. You are not a babe in the use of the Power now."
She jerked her hands from his, more refusals on her lips, but instead sighed and moved to their bed. "Lie down beside me." She closed her eyes and felt the bed shift as Peter stretched out beside her. "Give me your hand." She linked her fingers with his. "When you feel it, you pull away. Understand? I'll fuse the strand as soon as I can, but..."
He gave her hand a squeeze. "All will be fine."
Regan touched the Power inside. It seemed surprised, and she understood, for she never called upon it when she was this far along in her pregnancy. The Power had come to be almost a living entity inside her. She'd learned its moods and yearnings. Did Peter feel the same? It was so much a part of her. What would it feel like to no longer have it within?
The Power blossomed in pleased response at her touch. Regan smiled, separated a small strand and fed it upward into her hand. The strand enlarged without her command and her smile faded.
No, too much.
The Power churned.
I'll let you soon, but not now.
More strands separated and wove upward toward her arm.
No. She forced them back down. Only one.
The baby kicked in Regan's womb, and the Power flared in response.
Hush, my daughter, hush. Your father needs me now.
The single strand of power curled around her wrist. She willed it into her palm, and felt Peter jerk.
Regan's eyes flew open.
His head thrashed from side to side on the pillow, and his fingers tightened around hers.
"Let go, Peter."
She struggled to free her hand from his, fought to fuse the power. "No," she screamed.
Her fingers whitened with the force of Peter's grip. With a strangled cry, she lifted their intertwined hands and sank her teeth into his wrist. The coppery bitterness of blood almost gagged her, but she bit harder.
Peter yanked his hand from hers. "Damnation, woman, you bit me." He rolled from the bed, stared down at his bleeding wrist and then glared at his wife.
Regan glared back. "Yes I did, and I'd do it again in a minute."
For a moment, they stared at each other in silence, and then Regan burst into tears.
Peter lay down beside her and pulled her into his arms. "Enough. Enough. You did it. My power is back and all is fine."
"Fine?" She doubled up her fist and punched him in the arm. "I almost lost you. Don't you ever do it again."
"It was Kelsey, and you sent me—"
"Never again. Do you hear me?" Cheeks flushed, Regan struggled to raise her balloon-shaped form from the bed. Damn. She felt like a floundering whale and twice as large. "Help me up."
Peter brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. "No. Rest. The transfer must have tired you."
"I'm going to meet my sister."
"You are what?"
"I've already lost three days with her. I'm not losing any more time."
Peter rolled from her and stood. "Did the transfer addle your wits? You are too near the birth."
"I'm going."
"Regan, we will not speak of it any more. You are not." Peter turned on his heels and stalked toward their bedchamber door.
"Yes, I am."
Peter stopped in mid-stride. He whipped around and stared at her, exasperation clear upon his tense face. Without a word he reversed his steps. With lips pulled tight, he offered his hand. Regan wanted to refuse but, if she did, she'd remain where she lay until a chambermaid happened by. She let him pull her to her feet.
Peter shook his head. "You cannot rise from the bed. How would you mount a horse?"
"A mounting block, and Gilda's stride is as gentle as sitting in your lap, although it was such an occurrence that ended up with me in this shape again."
Her husband's lips relaxed into a self-pleased grin. "I recall it well." His grin faded. "Helena would also say no."
"The baby isn't due for another two weeks."
"And if the babe comes early? Do you not remember Daniel's birth? You almost died."
She frowned. Of course she remembered. How could she not? The knifing pain and the numbing fear when her labor stretched on and on. Thank God Ben and Margeaux had been there.
Together, Margeaux and Helena had brought Daniel William Canterville into the world, and managed to keep her in it also.
"All births are different," she said. "I haven't had any problems with this baby, not even morning sickness."
She watched him take a deep breath and fight for calm. "You will not go. And it is final." He reached to touch her shoulder, but she stepped away. "Regan, Kelsey is coming. Is it not enough?"
"I just want to meet her," Regan snapped. "My God, she almost died."
"Angus is waiting for her at the rift."
Tears filled her eyes. "Four days is all we have. I don't want to waste even one of them."
"No, Regan. I will place a guard at this door if I must."
She dashed the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm a prisoner in my own home?"
"I love you, you stubborn little ass. I will not take a chance on losing you or the babe yet again."
She turned her back to him and stared at the tapestry on the far wall. The weavers had finished it only yesterday. It showed the golden dragon, Zara, with Regan on its back. All Daradawn honored the dragon's now adult offspring. Not one farmer begrudged the livestock hunted from their fields, for without Zara's aid there would have been no farms or livestock to be taken. Too bad the fairies didn't feel the same. It had been months since Regan had visited Zara, and with a start, she realized weeks had passed without them speaking through their mind link.
"Regan—"
"Just leave me alone please." She turned and walked toward the balcony doors. Her lips tightened as she heard the chamber door shut softly behind Peter. For once, why couldn't he just slam it.
The pennant flying from the balcony turret whipped back and forth. In spite of the bright sun, the wind off the sea would be biting.
With a sigh, she crossed the room and settled into a chair. She leaned her head back against the polished wood and closed her eyes. Peter was an only child and did not under
stand her need to see her sister. Yes, she had friends in Daradawn, and each would give their lives for her, but they weren't of her blood. It had been seven years. How many times had she jumped to her feet thinking, I've got to tell Kelsey this, before realizing the impossibility? There had been Daniel's first step. His first word. The way her son's smile looked just like their mother's.
Peter grinned when she shared these things, but wouldn't understand like Kelsey, who'd seen the very smile.
Three days ago the rift had opened and she'd expected Kelsey then. How could Peter demand she wait even one more minute?
She caressed the rounded mound of her stomach. She loved her unborn child. She'd never do anything to endanger her. Peter laughed when she said, her. But in her heart knew the child she carried was a girl, a daughter: Catherine Elizabeth Canterville, named after her grandmother and Peter's mother. Peter had also chosen Angus Rourk, in case the baby was a boy. Regan had cringed at the choice, but humored him, knowing the name would not be needed. Besides, Angus and Rourk were as proud as lions to even have their names considered.
Regan opened her eyes with a sigh. "I don't even have any pictures. It wasn't as if I'd planned to stay when I came through the rift."
She felt tears threaten again and blinked. This baby might not have brought morning sickness, but it seemed tears were always just an emotion away.
She swept her gaze over the room. It was nice enough, the stone walls covered with tapestries of forest scenes. The one with the unicorns bathing in the stream was her favorite. Oval woven rugs covered the polished stone floor.
The privacy screen and armoire were new. The one they'd been using had been taken from Kelsey's old chamber and Regan sent it back when it had come time for her sister's visit. Her gaze settled upon the cabinet in the far corner. It held Peter's grandfather's book, as well as her notebook. Spells, known only to Peter, warded the carved wood. Thank God the red leather circle surrounding the rearing unicorn on the cover of his grandfather's book still remained free of cracks. The ancient prophecies promised if a crack ever touched the unicorn's hoof, then all of Daradawn would perish. In their battle with Dirkk, a crack had inched close, but the evil had been stopped before it was too late.
The Emerald Dagger (Daradawn Book 2) Page 3