Then, above the cacophony of noise, he heard someone call his name.
Who...?
It sounded like a cry for help. A woman, and, dear God, he knew her voice. But it didn't belong in Yorkshire. It belonged...
Everything around him blurred as a sharp pain exploded in head. The dream he'd tried so hard to recall came back to him in a heartbeat, every terrible detail of it. Only now he knew for certain it was no dream, but a vision.
Althena. Argante. Oh, nay. What has he done?
“Jesus Christ.”
Alex doubled over in the saddle, vaguely aware of Emma's panicked cry.
“Caleb?”
She sounded so far away. The earth seemed to reach up and grab him. What was happening? Why could he not see?
Shouts echoed through his mind. Emma again, panic in her voice. He reached out a hand, trying to reassure her. The air still vibrated with the sound of wings, but now the earth around him shook with the thud of hooves. He tried to move, sit up, open his eyes. His limbs would not respond, but his eyes opened to a nauseating blur of black and grey.
“God help me.”
“Easy, my friend.” Finn's voice cut into Alex's nightmare. A gentle hand rested on his head and subdued his terrible thoughts. “I have you. Try to focus.”
“The birds... they saw. I have to go back. Althena...”
Say naught else. I know it hit you hard. I felt the shock of it myself.
Finn's voice was barely a whisper. Nay, it wasn't his voice anymore, but his thoughts.
Focus on my strength and use it. You must focus, Alexander. The shield is failing.
With his eyes squeezed shut, Alex focused on Finn's touch, absorbing his energy and strength. A warm tingle ran across his skin and his heartbeat slowed, the sound of it pulsing in his ears. He flinched when a sudden and intense light flared behind his eyelids.
Open your eyes, Guardian. The energy must have a release.
He opened his eyes and blinked, his sight clearing as Finn's thoughts continued to speak to him.
Better, but your heart is still pounding like a whore's bed. Slow your breathing. You're scaring the ladies.
“Nice turn of phrase, Finn,” he murmured, rubbing his eyes. “The shield?”
“Is intact. Can you stand?” Finn wrapped his arm around Alex's shoulders, lifting him.
“I think so.” He pushed the heel of his thumb against a pain in his temple. “I need my horse. I must leave right away. Did you see what I saw?”
“I did, but gather your strength. You need a few moments yet.” Finn gestured over his shoulder. “Besides, we have the ladies to think about. We can't leave until they've been escorted back to Thurston.”
Alex shook his head. “Nay, I'm going from here. I want you to stay at Thurston until Stephen gets back.” He looked over at the girls, who stood silent and grim by the horses. His eyes met Emma's and saw fear reflected in them. “Please, Finn. The shield will no longer be needed once I leave, and I'll rest easier knowing you're still here.”
Finn blew an exasperated breath. “Christ, but you're an obstinate bastard. Aye, I'll stay. But you'll take my horse too, as a spare. I've no doubt you'll be flying across both counties like the winds of Aran.” He followed Alex's gaze and nodded at the girls. “What will you tell them?”
Alex sighed. “Some sorry version of the truth.”
Finn looked to the northwest. “The wee lass lives yet. But she's very weak.”
“I know. Which is why I must leave right away.”
“Alexander, if Althena should die —”
“She'll not die.” Determination stiffened his jaw as he strode toward the girls. “I'll not let her die.”
Emma's eyes didn't leave Alex's face as he approached, but it was Bee who spoke. “Thank God you're unhurt, Caleb. You scared us.”
“Please forgive me, ladies. I had an... attack. It came upon me unawares.”
“Is it an affliction you have?” Bee asked, her eyes wide.
“Of sorts, aye.” Alex glanced at Emma, wondering why she had not spoken. “'Tis something I've learned to endure.”
“God's truth, you have my sympathy.” Bee gave him a warm smile.
Alex inclined his head. “'Thank you. I'm sorry if it disturbed you.” He looked at Emma again. “May I speak with you privately, my lady?”
Emma nodded, her eyes softening with tears as they stepped away. The breeze played around them, whistling a quiet tune as it wandered over the land. Alex glanced at the sky, empty now apart from a lonely crow circling above.
Emma followed his gaze and then turned sad eyes back to him. “You're leaving, aren't you? It has something to do with what happened just now. You're leaving Thurston.”
Alex took her hand and raised it to his lips, surprised at her perception. “Aye, lass. I must leave right away. 'Tis a decision forced upon me.” He placed a hand on her cheek. “Stephen will be back soon. In the meantime, if you're in need of help for any reason, go to Finn. Swear to me that you will.”
She nodded, biting her bottom lip as she always did when nervous or pondering.
“I swear. But will I see you again?”
The anguish in her voice landed like a weight on his chest. He forced a smile, forming his answer with care. “I'm certain I'll see you again, Emma.” He reached over and pulled her cloak around her. “You're shivering, child. Come. Let Finn take you home.”
“Home? Nay. Thurston is not my home.” She hiccupped a sob and gestured toward the horizon behind him. “My true home is that way. I thank you for all you've done for me, Caleb. May God bless and keep you safe.” She turned, but not before Alex saw tears escape from her eyes.
He watched as she hurried back to her horse and climbed into the saddle. Her pain reached out and touched him, winding its way around his heart, intensifying the ache already there. He gripped his sword, fighting his emotions, still unsettled from the horrific revelation about Althena. Finn approached with the horses, his dark eyes gleaming with subdued light.
“Have no fear, my friend. I'll watch over the wee lass.” He handed the reins to Alex. “Release the shield as soon as we're out of sight, but prepare yourself. 'Tis like throwing a sack full of lead from your shoulders.” He grinned. “You'll think you've sprouted wings.”
“What will you tell Christophe?”
“That you're needed urgently elsewhere.” The light in Finn's eyes brightened. “'Don't trouble your mind with such trivial thoughts. His lordship and all at Thurston will believe whatever this Irish devil tells them. Go and take care of Althena. You know what to do if you need help.”
Alex swung into the saddle and looked up at the sky. The crow still circled, silent, waiting. “Thank you, my friend.”
Finn chuckled. “Are you talking to me, or the bird? God keep you, Alexander.”
“And you.” Alex looked over to Emma and Bee, raising his hand in a solemn salute. Turning his horse, he touched his spurs to its belly and set off at a good canter across the moor. Moments later, he heard a frantic shout behind him.
“Wait!”
He heaved on the reins and twisted in the saddle to see Emma riding toward him in a flat-out gallop. She pulled her horse to a sliding halt next to his, her chest heaving, her face wet with tears.
“Tell me true, Caleb,” she sobbed. “Did he send you? Did Alex send you to me?”
In the time it took his heart to beat once, he thrust temptation aside. He knew what his answer must be.
“Nay, my lady. Alex didn't send me.” At his words, an expression of bleak disappointment settled on Emma's face. Her need of him - the real him - tore at his conscience. He leaned over to wipe the tears from her cheeks, but she uttered a small cry and turned her head away.
“Emma, please don't cry.” His fingers slid under her chin and forced her to face him. He looked into her eyes, into her mother's eyes. “Listen to me, lass, for I tell you this from my heart. Alex loves you very much. Never doubt it. Not for a moment.”
&nbs
p; “But how can you know that for certain?” she whispered.
He smiled. “He raised you as his own. How could he not love you? Now, promise me you'll stay strong. Promise. I need your word if I'm to go in peace.”
“Aye, I promise.” She sniffed and tilted her head, studying his face intently. “And if you should see Alex before I do, tell him I love him too, and I'll see him again soon.”
As Emma rode back to Finn and Bee, a shocking thought wandered through Alex's brain, looking for a place to settle. Nay, not a thought. A realisation - a startling truth.
He'd seen it reflected in her tears, heard it in her declaration of love, and sensed it in her thoughts. Perhaps it was her need of him, her desire to see what she wanted to see. Whatever the reason, he knew, beyond any doubt, that Emma had seen through the shield.
He rode hard and fast, ignoring the twists and turns of the well-trodden roads, following his black-winged guide along a rugged but more direct path. Freed from the weight of the shield and Finn's suppression of the stone's power, a familiar euphoria swept over him. Alex embraced it with fervour, unaware, until that moment, of how much he'd missed it.
It erased his fatigue, infusing his spirit with light and energy. He relaxed his own rules and allowed the stone's power to drive the horses. Under its influence, the animals did not tire or falter. Only when daylight faded did Alex slow the pace, fearful of the horses stumbling in the dark. Even so, he rested little, but pushed on through the night, crossing into Cumberland as darkness departed.
Dawn unveiled a cold grey sky over the Cumberland hills. Alex's airborne escort had long since vanished, no doubt to seek shelter and rest his weary wings.
The wind had died. Thick mist draped over Black Combe, hiding the soft lines of the summit. Without the wind to move them, the clouds settled into place and dropped a steady saturating drizzle to the earth. Alex eyed the sky with dismay, worrying about Althena's survival as he urged the horses onward. Cold and damp were deadly to an unprotected body, especially one already weakened by injury.
At last, he turned the horses onto the forest path leading to his home. His fingers played on the hilt of his sword, yet he sensed nothing untoward, no danger. The forest surrounded him with silence. Even the horses' hooves fell noiselessly on the thick carpet of leaves. Despite the stone's influence, both animals were now close to collapse, their heads drooping with fatigue.
The sight of Althena, lying so still on the muddy ground, was like a kick in Alex's stomach.
“Mother of God.”
The words tore from his throat as he dismounted and knelt at her side. He lifted her gently, tears burning his eyes. Blood, mud and vomit soiled her face and matted her hair. Beneath the grime, Althena's skin was deathly pale, her lips and eyelids edged with a chilling blue tinge. Raindrops, stained red with her blood, trickled through Alex's fingers as he held her.
“Ah, Christ. My poor wee lass. What has he done to you?”
He took the corner of his cloak and wiped the filth from her mouth and eyes. Then his fingers explored beneath her jaw, searching for a sign of life, hoping, praying.
“Give me your heart, leannan. Please.”
There. A pulse. It fluttered weakly, but hope clutched at his heart. “Praise be.”
He scooped her into his arms, meaning to take her into the house, but as he passed the barn door, a chill ran across his skin.
Bart.
He stepped into the barn. The two weary horses had already found their way in there, and were busy munching on some loose hay.
Little remained of Bart's stall. Splintered boards were strewn across the floor and the door was smashed, as were the partition walls. Alex groaned at the sight of a large bloodstain on the ground. But there was no sign of the stallion.
“What happened to you, old friend?” He glanced around. “Where have you gone?”
With a glance at the woman lying deathlike in his arms, Alex swallowed his emotion and fatigue, turned on his heel and headed into the house.
As soon as he opened the door he grimaced at the stale, damp air. Althena needed warmth if she was to survive.
He set her down on his bed, unbuckled his sword and placed it next to her. Its power stimulated the body's natural ability to heal itself. That's why Stephen had recovered so quickly from his wound, Alex mused, his weary mind wandering for a moment.
Using the stone to aid healing was discouraged by the Circle. They believed life to be cyclical, and death was a natural and integral part of that cycle. But, Alex reasoned, Althena had not succumbed to a natural sickness, nor an injury of war. She was another innocent victim of Argante's evil.
Alex blamed himself for all of it. He'd failed to protect Emma and had allowed Argante to live. God forgive him, he'd even provided the bastard with a means to escape. The repercussions of that one stupid decision had been devastating to the people he loved.
Many years before, someone else he loved had died because of his actions.
Not this time.
He'd known for some time that Althena loved him but, consumed by memories of the past, he'd always hesitated to return her love. She had never pursued him, made uncomfortable demands, or attempted to lure him with typical female wiles. The lass had always maintained her pride, even though he'd often seen the longing in her eyes.
Remorse overcame him. He lifted a strand of hair from her face and lowered his mouth to hers, embracing her frigid lips.
“You shall not die, my sweet lass. Not here, not now. I swear it.”
He wiped the blood from her wound and the mud from her face. Then he removed her wet clothing, and rubbed her body down with a soft cloth, massaging her limbs and torso, stimulating her sluggish circulation.
The damp air persisted. Alex tucked a blanket around Althena and went into the kitchen. Before long, a hearty fire burned in the kitchen hearth. With the atmosphere warming at last, he returned to his bedchamber.
Finally, he placed the sword under the pillows, with the hilt directly beneath Althena's head. Then he removed his own clothes and slid into bed beside her. The clammy chill of her flesh shocked him. Beneath the blanket, he gathered her body against his, covering it with his warmth, skin against skin.
“I'm here, leannan,” he whispered, holding her close. “You're safe now. Argante will not harm you again.”
Overcome with fatigue and comforted by Althena's steady breath against his chest, he succumbed to the depths of sleep.
His mind staggered awake some hours later, leaving behind vague shadows of troubled dreams. Althena lay on her side, facing him, her breathing steady, her body warm and soft against his. Alex pushed himself onto an elbow and studied her. Although pale, her skin was fresher, the blueness gone from her eyelids and lips. His fingers stroked her hair and hovered over the gash on her head. It appeared dry, no sign of infection, but he couldn't tell how deep the wound was.
What if her brain has been injured?
He ran a thumb across her cheekbone. “Althena, can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?”
Her eyes rolled beneath the papery skin of her lids and a small frown creased her brow. He held his breath for a moment. Had she heard him?
“Althena.”
She groaned, her frown deepening. Her eyelids fluttered but didn't open.
Alex's thumb continued its caress, following the hollow of her cheek and the outline of her bottom lip. “Do you know who I am?”
A tear slid from one corner of her eye and fell onto the pillow. Her lips parted and soundlessly mouthed one word.
“Alex.”
Relief choked his immediate response. He took a deep breath. “Thank God.”
With her eyes still closed, Althena's hand explored his chest, his throat, his lips. He smiled against her fingertips and kissed them.
“Alex?” This time she murmured his name. Her eyes fluttered open, blinking against the light. “Do I dream?”
He saw the confusion in her expression and pressed his lips to her forehead. �
�Nay, lass. 'Tis no dream.”
She tried to move and groaned, her fingers reaching for the gash on her head.
Alex caught her hand. “Hush. Lie still.”
“But...I don't understand. Why are we...?” Her eyes squinted at his bare chest, her pale cheeks flushing pink as her hand went to her throat. “You're...I'm...”
Naked. God's teeth. What must she think?
“I found you outside, unconscious and chilled to the bone,” he explained. “I had to warm you somehow.”
“But I don't...how...” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Sweet Mary, help me.”
“Do you remember anything?”
Her eyes opened again, clouded with misery and confusion.
“Nay. My head, Alex...it hurts so much.”
“I know. Take it slow, lass. Are you thirsty?
“Aye.” She cleared her throat. “I am a little.”
“Don't try to move. I'll be right back.”
Alex pulled on his britches and headed to the kitchen, taking a few moments to stoke up the fire before settling again at Althena's side with two goblets of spiced ale.
It pleased him to see her drink with obvious relish, but all at once her body tensed. She choked and turned shocked eyes to his, coughing as she fought for air.
“Sweet Mother of God,” she sputtered, her fingers finding the wound on her head. “I do remember now. 'Twas Argante. He attacked me, struck me with something. And... oh, poor Bart. Alex, I'm so sorry.”
“Nay, hush.” He took the goblet from her and set it down, alarmed by the sudden grey pallor of her skin. “‘Tis not your fault.”
“But it is.” Her eyes shimmered with tears. “'Tis entirely my fault. I brought Bart here to get him out of the cold and Argante killed him. How can you ever forgive me for that? If I'd stayed at my cottage, he never would –”
“Enough.” Alex could not bear to hear the regret in her voice. “Listen to me, lass. None of this is your fault. None of it. 'Tis I who should ask your forgiveness. That bastard is still crawling around the forest because of my foolishness. And the truth is, I don't know what happened to Bart. He's disappeared, but that doesn't mean he's dead.” He groaned. “'Tis I who am sorry. Sorry beyond words. I almost lost you. Christ knows, such a thought is unbearable to me.”
The Cast Of A Stone Page 19