As quietly as she could, she slipped from beneath the sheet, and scooped up the t-shirt and jeans he’d stripped from her body hours earlier.
She stood for a moment, her mind replaying those passion-filled hours. In a last ditch attempt to reach his heart, she’d poured all she was into their lovemaking and, though in the end it hadn’t made any difference, it hadn’t been a complete waste of time. The pleasure, oh the pleasure. Colin’s ardent response may not have been anything more than his natural male reaction to a willing female body, but he’d given her a night full of amazing memories, memories she would take out later to relive in the long years ahead.
As Saraid was to Owein, Colin was her soul. He couldn’t or wouldn’t accept her love, so she’d find a way to live without a soul, and exist on what was left of her.
Before she gave in to the urge to crawl back into bed and store up just one more memory of his touch, she tiptoed from the room. The click of Donovan’s nails on the hardwood sounded like a ticking time bomb, and she cringed, waiting for Colin to explode from sleep. To her relief, he slept on as she and her dog made good their escape.
The night air was cool, and she was grateful for the moon illuminating the twisting path to the Door. She could have zapped to the ring and saved herself the treacherous climb, but popping out on Donovan would have had him setting up a whine, and possibly waking Colin. She knew he would object to what she had in mind.
The pillars appeared as ethereal sentries in the moonlight, guarding the secrets of the mound. No sound reached her ears as she entered the ring. Even Donovan remained silent, waiting just beyond the stones with uncharacteristic patience as she stepped to the center.
“Owein,” she called out. “I know you can hear me. I need your help.”
He appeared immediately, several feet away. His gaze scanned the ring.
“Colin’s not here,” Keely said. “I’ve come alone.”
“To what purpose?”
“To free your Saraid.”
“And how would you be doing that, lass, without himself to join with you?”
“By entering the realm. I’ll find your wife and bring her to the surface.”
He shook his head. “It can’t be done. Fiona’s curse includes an enchanted bacainn. The block denies all entrance to the mound. If not, I would have pulled Saraid from Fiona’s clutches centuries ago.”
“Not all are blocked. I’ve entered the mound many times.”
“When was this?” Excitement brightened his green eyes and the air around him shimmered with movement. “How?”
“In my dreams,” she told him. “And if I could enter then, it makes sense I can now.”
Owein nodded, but his brows jumped together in indecision. “Let me think this through, lass. It’s not like Fiona to leave a gaping hole in a curse she planned so well.” He scraped a hand over his cleanly shaved jaw. “It could well be a trap.”
“It could, but you heard her yourself. She means me no harm. She believes she is protecting me.”
“Aye, but her idea of protection is to lock a person away. I’ve no desire to see you share Saraid’s fate of these last three hundred years.”
Keely shuddered. “Neither do I, but I don’t think it will come to that.”
“And if it does?”
“Then I’ll deal with it. The realm has always been a fascinating and joyful place whenever I visited there. Living amongst the fairies can’t be any worse than suffering under the confusion of the dreams the rest of my life.”
Owein sighed, and the air swirled within the ring. “No, lass. As much as I long to be with my Saraid again, I can’t let you do this. We’ll find another way.”
“Excuse me, King Owein, but I’m not asking you to let me do this. I’m telling you I am doing it.” She didn’t blink or back down at his narrowed-eyed glare, though she wanted to. This was her chance to end the curse and the dreams, and she wasn’t going to let anyone stop her—not even an incredibly intimidating fairie ancestor. “If you stop me now,” she promised, “I’ll just try again later.”
“Stubborn,” he snorted, then changed tactics. “Colin will be lost to you,” he argued.
Keely shrugged and swallowed against the lump in her throat. “He was never mine to lose. Not really.”
“That’s debatable,” Owein grumbled on an angry frown, “but just the same, he won’t like it.”
“Like the rest of us, he wants the curse broken. If this works, we’ll all be free of Fiona’s interference.”
Owein was quiet for a moment, studying her face. He must have read her determination to follow through with her plan there, because he suddenly dropped to one knee at her feet. He reached for her hands to hold them in his. Reluctant acceptance brightened his eyes.
“My head tells me to find some other way. I’m uncomfortable with the idea of you endangering yourself for my benefit. But I’m a selfish creature. My heart cries out at the possibility of your succeeding where I have known nothing but failure. I failed Saraid, lass. I failed my children. I don’t want to fail you as well.”
Keely’s eyes swam at the genuine regret and concern in his eyes, and she did her best to reassure him. “How can you fail me when I go of my own free will?”
After a moment’s indecision, he nodded his regal head. “Know this, Keely O’Brian. No matter the outcome of this night, the full force of my power is at your disposal from this moment on. Whatever you need, whenever you need it, come to me and I will see it done. And if our worst fears are realized, and Fiona holds you within her raft, as I have sworn for my Saraid, I will not rest until you are freed.”
She nodded and took a cleansing breath. “I need the Irish word for realm.”
“Ríocht,” he said quietly. “Focus your thoughts on Saraid, lass. Let the blood lead you to her.”
Keely nodded and closed her eyes. She held out her arms. At the edge of the ring, Donovan broke into frenzied barking, and a wolf’s keening cry, sounding oddly like her name, echoed through the darkness. Adrenaline rushed through her as she whispered, “Ríocht.”
Chapter Fifteen
A pale pink tongue hung long, slapping at the black wolf’s foamed muzzle as he raced up the last stretch of trail toward the stones at the top of the rise. Too late. Too late. Too late. The chant marked the thud of his paws on the hard-packed dirt, and he reached for one last burst of speed.
He topped the rise, his relief so great he nearly stumbled when he spotted the woman standing at the center of the ring, with the fairie king on bended knee before her. She raised her arms and horror bloomed in the wolf’s mind. Too late, the taunt returned. His tortured howl joined the wolfhound’s frenzied barking as she disappeared.
****
Keely’s knees wobbled on rubbery legs and she had to lock them to keep from falling. As she gaped at the luxuriously appointed chamber, she wondered if she’d ever get used to this zapping business. A handy form of transportation it might be, but popping from one place to another in the blink of an eye was still a bit disconcerting—and it was hell on the leg muscles.
Jeweled silks covered a long chaise and matching chairs, as well as the canopied bed in the corner. The whimsical curves of each pure silver piece shimmered in the soft glow of light. A tiny woman sat at her mending in one of the chairs. A braid of thick, raven-black hair fell over one shoulder of her emerald green gown to pool at her waist. Her curious, cobalt blue gaze met Keely’s across the distance.
“Saraid?” Keely whispered.
“Yes. Is there something Fiona requires of me?” she asked meekly.
She set aside her mending to stand and Keely was stunned at her youthfulness. Keely wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but this woman-child appeared to be no more than a girl really, possibly seventeen or eighteen. It was as if Saraid had entered the realm as a young bride, and hadn’t aged a day since. Three hundred years had passed her by as if it hadn’t noticed her presence.
“Fiona didn’t send me,” Keely replied, and too
k a step closer. “You called to me, Saraid. I’m Keely, daughter of daughter. Owein helped send me through the Door.”
“Owein?” she gasped. Her eyes went as big as saucers as she dropped back into the chair on collapsing legs. “At last,” she said on a ragged breath, “he’s found the key.” She scanned the room as though searching. “But where is your mate?”
Keely ignored the pang of regret, admitting, “I have no mate. I’ve come alone.”
The color left Saraid’s face and her gaze jerked to the closed door. “No,” she whispered tortuously. “No!” Desperate confusion tightened her face when she turned back. “I don’t understand. Owein must know, to break the curse, the heart and the soul must stand together. If you are found here alone you will be trapped as I have been these many years. You must go, daughter of daughter. Quickly, before she comes.”
“I mean to, with you at my side. I’ve come to free you. Hurry now, Owein awaits you in the ring.”
At the mention of her husband, Saraid’s eyes filled with tears, illuminating their piercing blue. “Owein,” she keened low, and then seemed to gather herself. “Tell my husband I await him as well. For however long it takes. But what you suggest is impossible,” she said desperately. “It can’t be done, child.”
Keely would have smiled at the label of child coming from one so young looking if the distress on her lovely face were not so glaring. “Why can’t it be done? I’m here. You need merely take my hand and we’ll go.”
Saraid shook her head. “You have the power to pass from the realm to the surface, but not to transport me from my prison. Only a full-blooded fairie has that ability. Fiona has barred Owein and his band from entering the raft and none here will dare incur her wrath. The combined power of two Halflings, escorting me from the realm, is my only hope of ever escaping. I’m overwhelmed you answered my call, but without your mate by your side, you cannot help me.” Her eyes flicked to the door once more. “Please, go,” she pleaded, “before she comes. I couldn’t bear to see you imprisoned on my behalf.”
“Imprisoned is such a harsh word, Saraid.”
What little color had been there leached from Saraid’s face at the softly spoken words. Keely turned to find Fiona in the shadows near the cold hearth. The door remained closed, and yet the fairie princess had joined them, somehow. Apparently zapping was common in the realm as well.
Fiona wore a satisfied smile as she eyed Keely. “I hadn’t thought to find you here so soon, Halfling. The blood in you is indeed as strong as Owein suspected.”
“You knew I’d come?” Keely asked.
“Let’s say I’d hoped. A Halfling with your abilities would be wasted in the human world.”
“I won’t be staying.”
“Is that so?” Her fair-haired head tilted regally as she glanced about the room. “But where is your lovely mate?”
Keely’s chin came up. “I have no mate.”
“Ah,” Fiona drew out the condescending sound. “Cast aside already? But no matter. It was bound to happen eventually.” She moved then, stepping from the shadows to take one of the chairs. She arranged herself prettily, and sent an arching brow Saraid’s way. “It’s as I’ve always told you, Saraid. Men use and then discard. Your lovely ancestor has just learned this for herself, but better she learn the truth sooner rather than later, wouldn’t you agree?”
Saraid said nothing, all expression wiped from her pretty face. Her eyes were blank, as though the woman herself were no longer there, but had escaped in her own mind to some unknown place. Keely looked at Fiona, and the pleased twist of the fairie’s lips had a slow burn of anger bubbling in her belly.
“And what is the truth, princess?” Keely demanded and drew Fiona’s gaze. “My truth holds no resemblance to yours. If Colin used me for a time, then he wasn’t alone. I took my pleasure of him as well.”
“And sacrificed your being in the process. It is good you’ve come to me. There is much I can teach you. And the sooner you begin the healing of your heart, the better.”
“I have not come to you, princess, and my heart needs no healing.”
Fiona’s smile was tender, like an adult to a silly child, and left Keely bristling. “You have spirit, Halfling, which makes you strong. But the love you feel for Colin Quinn will crush you in time, and steal your power. With my help, we will minimize the damage.”
Keely gave a dubious laugh and hoped the truth of Fiona’s words didn’t show on her face. “Whatever damage is caused by my loving Colin, I will handle on my own. The fact that he can’t or won’t return my love wounds me, princess, but it won’t crush me. I won’t let it.” She glanced at Saraid, still and silent and lost in her own mind. “When a woman is strong, so is her heart. That is her true power. It holds her in good stead, in whatever adversity she faces.”
Keely’s gaze slid back to Fiona and she let her lips curve with disdain. “Look at you,” she charged. “You’re beautiful, and you’re powerful. If what you say of Fitzgerald Quinn is true, he was no more than an ass. You should have turned him into one in truth, and directed your heart elsewhere. It’s what I would have done. Instead, you’ve embraced your bitterness and affected the lives of innocents in the process. You’ve let a mere human beat you, Fiona, Princess of the Fairies. He’s beating you still. Where then is your power?”
The very air in the room vibrated as the tolerant smile slid from Fiona’s face. She surged to her feet. Out of the corner of her eye, Keely saw Saraid cringe as though bracing for a blow, and when Fiona took a step toward her, Keely felt the urge to cringe herself. She refused to cower, meeting the fairie princess’s chilling glare with a raised brow.
“You know nothing of power, Halfling, or of the ways of men. Think you my heart didn’t demand immediate vengeance upon your human ancestor? With a single thought I could have ended the ass’s life, or worse.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“I was denied that vengeance.” Her voice rose to a shout. “By my own father!” She paused, visibly gathering her control. She smoothed a slim hand over the skirt of her gown. Her voice was calm when she spoke again. “He placed a protection enchantment over the ass’s life. My father’s interference in my affairs taught me well. Be they fairie or human, men care nothing for the heart of a woman.”
“Men will do what they will,” Keely said in agreement, “for their own reasons. But a woman’s heart is her own. You had only to take it back and spend it well to have your vengeance against Fitzgerald.”
“As you spent your heart well?” Fiona challenged. “Like Fitz before him, your Colin took what you offered and threw your heart back in your face. He’s stolen your destiny, and your weak, human blood keeps you from seeing it.”
“You’re wrong, princess. Colin is nothing like his ancestor. He’s a good man, an honorable man. He took pains from the beginning to make sure I understood the way things were with him. I knew going in I risked my heart on a man incapable of returning it. You saw to that many years ago, when you sent his father packing. If anyone has stolen my destiny, it’s you.”
Fiona’s chin set stubbornly, covering the quick flash of guilt with a look of bored dismissal. “I did what I had to do.”
“You did what your bitterness demanded of you, and if you are an example of pure fairie blood,” Keely taunted, “then I’m glad I’m half human. From what I can tell, it’s the fairie half of my blood that is weak.”
For the first time since she’d arrived, Fiona looked at Keely with something less than condescending approval. Fire flashed in her eyes at the insult, and Keely hoped she hadn’t just gone too far.
“Watch your tongue, Keely O’Brian. My affinity for you as a Halfling and a fellow woman only goes so far.”
Keely knew she should apologize and do her best to smooth things over with the powerful fairie, but she couldn’t afford to fold her hand so easily. Saraid’s long-awaited freedom was at stake. Fiona’s treatment, at the hands of Fitzgerald Quinn and her father, was the cause of mu
ch heartache and nothing would change unless the princess found a way to get past it to find some peace. If Keely could help her see that, they may just have a chance.
“As does my affinity for your broken heart,” Keely responded evenly.
“The break in my heart scarred over long ago,” Fiona insisted.
“That’s not how it looks to me. Your every action paints you as a woman still bleeding from the deepest of cuts.”
“If I still bleed,” she said bitterly, “it’s not over the likes of Fitzgerald Quinn, but over the knowledge I will spend eternity, unloved and unmated.”
“Why?” Keely asked. “Surely there are men of the realm who would be happy to have you look their way.”
“You think I am afraid to risk my heart again after what happened with Fitzgerald Quinn, but that isn’t so. I did my best to overcome the hurt, and turned my eyes on another. For a time, I fooled myself into believing I had found my true mate and could put my anger behind me. But when it came down to it, he wouldn’t have me.”
“He didn’t love you?”
“He claimed he did. He claims it still. Yet, he chooses to live his life free of a mate, rather than bind himself to me. The experience confirms what I’ve known all along. The agendas of men are all that matter to them. You think me unkind in bringing you here as I did Saraid, but I say, again, I’ve done you a favor.”
“What you have done is to see to it that I will never be truly joined with my mate. I will live with that. But Saraid has endured separation from her mate for centuries, and yet her heart still yearns for him as Owein’s does for her. Let her go, princess. Let her live the life she was meant to live.”
Fiona shook her head. “That I won’t do, but I notice you don’t ask for yourself.”
“I don’t need permission. I’ll go as I came.”
“No, you won’t.”
The certainty in Fiona’s words caused a flicker of fear in Keely. She cast a regretful look Saraid’s way before attempting to zap herself back to the surface, to no avail.
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