Through Time-Pursuit

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Through Time-Pursuit Page 17

by Conn, Claudy


  She stood with him at the front doors, which were made to allow a giant to enter. They opened invitingly, and Pestale, still holding her wrist with one hand, waved the other for her to enter.

  “Our home, Princess,” he said softly.

  She could see the pride all over his face. He had done what no other before him had accomplished. He had escaped the Dark Realm and had carved out a creation—a world of his own. He had constructed a dimension between the past and the present. It would take all that she was to escape this and be able to protect young David and his parents!

  “No good can come of this, Pestale,” she said, frowning at him.

  “Oh but, my sweet, so much good—good for me and mine—shall come out of this. From here I will rescue my remaining two brothers and my dear Morrigu from the Dark Realm where they have been wrongfully, cruelly imprisoned most for most of their existence. Morrigu of course is now quite mad … and whose fault is that? She had committed no crime. She was abandoned by the Dark King for his human woman … She was not allowed to return to Tir and drink from the Cauldron—where was the justice for her? And my brothers—created by the Dark King and left to themselves.” His voice held contempt and bitterness.

  Royce felt a twinge of pity and then remembered all the evil he had recently committed. “So, yes, you and yours were perhaps gravely wronged … but you understood right from wrong. You chose a path that would forever condemn you.”

  “Do not play such games with me. Someone must pay for our suffering. And I get to decide who those should be,” he snapped.

  “I can feel for your unfair internment, but I do not—can never—forgive your actions,” she returned quietly.

  “I shall annihilate the Seelie Realm and take over the human world.” He shrugged. “Humans will be content under my rule. I shall take care of them as pets—after all, that is all they are.”

  “You know nothing of humans. Most of them would die fighting for their freedom before they would allow themselves to be slaves to you.”

  “Then they shall die,” he said simply. He dragged her inside and walked her down a long, wide corridor to a set of double doors. They opened for him, and he tugged her along with him into the bedroom.

  It was a bedroom of enormous proportions with a huge bed covered in gold satin and plump pillows of black and gold. Her nose lifted derisively.

  Apparently he didn’t notice her distaste. “Is it not exquisite? I designed it from what I thought beautiful in the eighteenth century—gold gilt and provocative lines—all for you.”

  “I shall not stay here with you,” she said firmly.

  His black eyes were hard as he stared into hers. “Ah, but, Princess, you shall, and when we are done, you will never want another.”

  He shoved her onto the bed. “I know you will try and escape this dimension, this room, this palace. It will be a useless effort. I have enacted a very special ward to keep you within, something I watched my father do when he did not know I was near. I learned a great many things from him …” He frowned, turned, and walked leisurely back towards the bedroom doors. He looked back over his shoulder and said softly, “Try and rest … or eat. You will find a plate of fruit and cheeses on the table there.”

  She put up her chin and watched him leave. She wasn’t eating anything in this dimension. Who knew what magic it was laced with?

  Right then, think, Royce, she told herself. He learned the warding spell to keep her a prisoner from his father, the Dark King. His father was actually a Seelie Fae and a Royal, the last of the ancient fifth house.

  She could break the ward if only she could find its rudimentary source. All spells had roots, and as a Royal she had been taught the ten basic roots from which all the greatest spells had been created.

  She got up and began pacing. Think—she had to think. She had always been taught that white magic was stronger than black, which used smoke and mirrors to lure and deceive. She had to get past the smoke and mirrors!

  * * *

  They stood cloaked in their invisibility in the parking lot of the nightclub and watched the garda rope off the area.

  “She stood here for awhile … her scent is strong, but, Trevor, there is another scent here that doesn’t belong.”

  “Yes, I know.” Trevor’s voice was full with concern, and Chance gazed at him before he collected his thoughts.

  “He is following her.” Chance’s voice was grim.

  “Yes, I believe so,” Trevor answered quietly.

  “Then so shall we … Track with me, lad,” Chance said and splayed his hand until a small pocket of gold dust floated in the air.

  “What by Danu is that?” Trevor asked, eyes wide.

  “Danu dust. We maintain a store of it, lad.” Any other time Chance would have teased him further, but he was in no mood for it. The dust pointed the way and made the tracking easier.

  A moment later they were watching the young boy playing with his father in the yard. Her scent was everywhere. She had been right where they stood, and so, Chance was certain, had been Pestale.

  “Why stop here … at this house?” Chance asked.

  Trevor shrugged. “I am not certain …”

  There was no evidence of struggle.

  They picked up her scent and followed, for she had shifted out once more … and he had followed. His Dark Magic was no longer disguising his movements. It was almost as though he wanted Chance and Trevor to know that he was with Royce.

  They arrived at the pub in Temple Bar where she and Pestale had occupied a table together, and Chance breathed a low hiss before he growled, “She sat … here with him!” He looked at Trevor. “What the bloody hell was she thinking?”

  “She was stalling him, hoping we would arrive,” said Trevor. “That would be her style—no thought for herself.”

  “I doona want her to stall him. I doona want her to talk to him or sit with him. Tell me, Trevor, why has she done this?” Chance’s temper was building on itself.

  “I don’t know, but I know Red—she must have had a good reason. The point being … she has gone with him. We’ll have to keep tracking.” Trevor sighed and sniffed. “When they left here, Chance, they definitely left together—but there is no directional … It is as if they slipped into another dimension.”

  “Aye, I know … she went with him willingly. I feel it in the atmosphere. She left a whiff of herself as though sending me a message. She knew I would come here to find her, and she knows we will track her, but how—how can we do that, if that dimension is cloaked in black magic?”

  “Time to go for help.” Trevor’s face was solemn.

  “Aye, and I have just the person who can do just that!”

  * * *

  The Wizard Rysdale’s blue eyes twinkled as he looked up from his charts and diagrams and found Chance and Prince Trevor standing behind his beloved Charm.

  She patted her short white curls framing her sweet face and said, “Darling, we have guests.”

  “So I see,” said the wizard as he got to his feet with a swish of his blue silk robe. He clasped Chance’s outstretched hand. “How are you, my boy? I hope you and your father are … recovering from your loss.”

  “Do ye, wizard? Do ye ever recover from a loss like that?”

  The wizard sighed and shook his head. “But that isn’t why you are here, is it?”

  “Not directly, no,” offered the prince, who had met the wizard only briefly when he had helped them in their war with Gaiscioch.

  “Ah …” he said, waving them to be seated and looking at Charm. “Will you bring us some refreshments, my dear?”

  “Of course,” she said. Smoothing her hands over her flowered apron, she started for the kitchens.

  He turned back to Chance. “Now, what is it you need?”

  “Ye know that Trevor and I are hell-bent on catching and stopping Pestale?”

  The wizard nodded. “I know, but I have wished you would do this without the need for vengeance.”

  Cha
nce shrugged. “It is what it is …”

  “Seeking revenge will make you careless. I believe it already has, and that is why you are here.”

  Chance grimaced. “Aye, then … perhaps. I should not have let her go alone … but I was in such a hurry to get to him …”

  “Her?” asked the wizard, one white thick brow up.

  Chance found it difficult to smile, but he liked Rysdale and respected him. If anyone could help it would be this wizard—who had come from a dimension of wizards!

  “Aye, Princess Royce,” Chance offered. “She has gone off with the devil … with Pestale, though I doona know why … but we need to get to her, and Trevor’s family Orb is hampered by the black magic. It can’t show us where she is, and then if he has taken her back in time … we have no way of getting there. She has the Peckering, ye see.”

  The wizard stroked his long white beard and sat thoughtfully before he got to his feet and said, “Come with me …”

  Chance and Trevor got up and followed the swooshing skirt of his long, glittering blue robe. He stopped sharply and turned, sending his cone-shaped blue hat askew; Trevor swallowed a chuckle.

  The wizard’s finger went to his nose as he said, “I almost forgot—we shall need one additional thing!” So saying he went rushing off to a long, buffet-styled table and picked up a silk tapestry runner. He shook it at them. “This, this will give us the story!”

  Chance and Trevor eyed one another, but as he had already started off again, they hurried to follow.

  He swung open the door to what appeared to be a weapons room and led them to a cabinet on top of which rested a huge glass globe.

  “My Seeker shall find them. It is immune to black magic …” He picked it up, took it to a round table, and set it down on top of the silk tapestry.

  “Sit!” he told them and pulled up a high-backed, ornately carved chair. He seemed to be concentrating on the globe as he plopped onto the thick red chair cushion.

  They followed suit and watched as he waved two hands around the globe and said, “Her name is Princess Royce … her essence is Seelie Fae.”

  “More than,” said the soft, genderless voice of the globe. “She is Royal born … and her mother is Daoine.”

  Chance’s brow went up. Daoines were the highest caste of Seelie Fae, in tune with nature, and fancied themselves ‘the keepers of nature.’ He had not known that. He looked at Trevor, who confirmed it with a nod. That was why he’d said she had many untold powers!

  “What more can you tell us, Seeker?”

  “She is a prisoner of her own making … in a place where time stands still,” said the voice of the globe.

  “How so?”

  “Her mind is open—she waits for he who is bonded to her. I can see into her open mind.”

  “Bonded?” Chance asked in spite of himself. He had not wanted to think about it, but he had felt something more than lust, love, whatever others called it. He had felt linked to Royce. Was that what had happened? Had he become bonded to her, as his father had been bonded to his mother?

  “Ah,” said the Seeker. “And so, he is here.”

  “Seeker, we need to know the exact coordinates of her locations and the way to it,” said Rysdale anxiously.

  “Time stands still … it is easily reached with your favorite portal … but it is warded with black magic. It will harm the invader through the mind when you try and enter. Only the strongest will survive its Dark Sorcery.”

  “Then, when properly armed … we may reach her and retrieve her?” Rysdale asked thoughtfully. Chance could see the wizard was already planning strategy.

  “No, she will not go with you,” said the Seeker.

  “What?” demanded Chance. “Why?”

  “I know not,” answered the Seeker.

  “She damn well will go with me when I get there—willy nilly, she will go with me!” snapped Chancemont LeBlanc in a high temper.

  “If her mind is open, why can’t you see the reason she is there?” asked the wizard.

  “I know not … ah, she felt my probe and has shut me out.”

  The globe clouded and went silent. Rysdale looked at them and said softly, “It will tell us no more today.”

  “Do you know how to get to her, wizard?” asked Chance.

  “Yes, but it will take time … and … ah, Charm … I am sorry, dearest, to have made you follow us back here.” He turned to Chance and Trevor. “Our refreshments.”

  * * *

  Pestale glanced at Royce, and she could see he wanted her to know his intentions as he made a show of closing the door. She jumped hastily off the bed and moved away, which put a small oval center table between them.

  He sneered, and the table was gone.

  His wrist twisted ever so slightly, and she felt an ever so slight draft as her clothes vanished from her body. She stood naked and for a moment was too stunned to do more than release a choked scream. Thankfully, she remembered who she was and sneered at him as she saw his gaze linger on her breasts.

  With but a thought, she was clothed once again, this time in a black tank top and low-waisted jeans. Sneakers covered her feet as she exploded into action.

  Royce rushed him and shoved him roughly with Fae force. “Don’t ever try anything like that again!”

  He laughed as he caught her arm and bent it behind her back. He brought his lips to her ears. “I will try that and more …”

  “Will you? I wouldn’t if I were you,” she snapped and pulled out of his armlock. She was a Seelie princess whose Light Magic would always outdo his Dark.

  He seemed surprised that she had been able to so easily release herself from his hold, but it didn’t deter him. He moved in and smacked her hard across her face. “Don’t force me to punish you, Seelie … for you won’t like what I can do to you here …”

  “Do to me?” she scoffed, purposely tweaking his temper. “But ah, you don’t know, do you? You don’t know just who I really am and what I can really do. You see, my mother is Daoine … cousin to the queen. I can do things with a thought, things you never dreamt possible.” She displayed the truth of this as, without touching him, she managed to throw him across the room.

  He slid down the wall but jumped up, furious as he raged at her. “By all that is Dark, you will pay!” A fine spittle of blood trickled down his lower lip where his teeth had grazed it during his meeting with the stone wall. “Don’t,” he said threateningly, “Ever. Try. That. Again!” He was already flicking his wrist to cast a circle of flames around her.

  Black magic. She almost laughed out loud. “Parlor tricks are beneath you.”

  “Try and leave the circle, and we’ll talk about parlor tricks,” he answered, back in control of his rising anger.

  “You mean … leave the circle …” She stepped through the fire and the ancient spell he had enacted to keep her within the ring. “Like this?”

  “Damn you! The Dark King created me. I am more than you can visualize …” he said and sent a ball of fire spinning towards her gut.

  She shifted and was near his ear before she shifted off again. “He is Seelie, and, yes, he created you … but you will never be as good as a Seelie Fae.”

  He spun around to slap her, but she was already across the room laughing at him and making his fury boil. He spat at her, “I am better … I am better than …”

  “If you were, we wouldn’t be talking. You would already have destroyed me or imprisoned me for my audacity,” she said, taunting him.

  He frowned and stepped towards her. “No! You don’t see it, do you? I want you … I want you willing and ready to be mine. I even admire your spirit, but I shall not tolerate much more.”

  “What—more, like this?” she answered and once again sent him hurtling across the room and slamming into the opposite wall.

  She smiled sweetly. “I never wanted to be a warrior, Pestale. I never really wanted to kill anything—not even you. I had always hoped we could negotiate with you—until I saw that Chance
would never let you live. Now, I see you certainly must be destroyed. It occurred to me that if I killed you, David and his family would be safe, as would the human world. I see it all now so clearly, what I missed before—you, simply, are not redeemable.”

  He charged her like a bull blinded by fury, but she shifted, and this time she knew she would shock him, for she shifted outside the door that had kept her in the room.

  A black magic ward would never keep a Daoine Royal, even a half-blood Daoine Royal, caged! But she knew she had to hurry.

  She was not the only one with Daoine blood. His father was the Dark King, and Pestale’s father had used his own blood when he created him. Pestale had his father’s blood in him, and the Dark King had been a full-blood Daoine Seelie Fae!

  She had a plan, and in order for it to work, she had to keep one step ahead of Pestale. However, he wasn’t going to make it easy.

  He was in her face, all at once, grabbing her around her waist and holding her tightly. “Damn but you are everything I want, you little killer! Now … to teach you that I am not your enemy …” He bent his head to her ear and whispered, “Bite me again, and you will see your young David maimed. I will keep him alive and torture him for all your wrongs against me.” He allowed this to sink in and then kissed her hard and without affection as his tongue attempted to explore her own.

  When he came away from the kiss he said, his voice low and husky, “Beloved one, don’t fight me any longer. I mean to keep you satisfied and at my side—”

  “Never! You will never have me at your side. I would rather die!”

  “You shan’t though. I won’t let you die, for one way or another … you will be mine, but I can hurt what you love.”

  She growled and shoved him hard. “Try it—try hurting David or his family in any way and see me totally unleashed. Is that how you mean to seduce me?”

  He stopped and directed a long, hard look at her. “It is all too obvious that you cannot be seduced—not yet.”

  “Seduction takes time … it takes finesse and skill. Do you not have all three? Or are you not as powerful as you think?” She taunted him again.

 

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