by Conn, Claudy
“I will make any vow your wish and in my blood … on my life … anything—only heal them!” she snapped. She wasn’t thinking straight; she knew she wasn’t thinking straight. She had to get control of herself and find a way to destroy him.
Think, Royce! Don’t just react—think! He tricked you before into doing what he wanted. Is this another trap?
Unfortunately, Royce realized, even if Pestale was once again deceiving her, she had to proceed as though he had told her the truth. The risk to the Hansons, to her precious David, was too high.
~ Seventeen ~
CHANCE AND TREVOR paced at different ends of the wizard’s weapons room. Chance held his fists at his back, and Trevor occupied his time with stopping now and then to inspect some of the very odd artifacts on the room’s stone walls.
A blazing fire crackled in the oversized fireplace, and Chance paused his pacing to sigh heavily and stare into the flames.
He was going mad waiting.
He felt so damn helpless. What was he to do? She was there—with him, with the Dark Prince—and he was useless.
He felt his fist itching to find Pestale’s face and disfigure him. He discovered an ache, a heart-wrenching ache thinking that Pestale might have his hands on Royce. He put his fist to his mouth to still the roar that made its way to his throat.
This was no good. He had to stop imagining the worst—for it was driving him senseless, and he needed all his clear thinking intact!
But with every moment that passed, he lost a little more control. Every second that ticked by suggested that Pestale was on her … touching … kissing her …
He groaned against his will and looked at Trevor. “I … I have to kill him, Trev … I doona think I can bear to bring him in alive as yer queen wishes.”
“I know.” Trevor answered grimly.
Chance looked away. “Bloody hell!” he shouted just to release some angst. What the devil was taking so long?
And then the wizard shouted out excitedly, “Humph!” followed by, “YES!”
Both Trevor and Chance marched right up to him and waited as Rysdale waved a very ornate wand in the air. A sprinkle of gold dust exploded, and the wizard smiled broadly. “There, I have it!”
“I see nothing!” Chance exclaimed anxiously. “Only the wand you have had all along.”
“I have the spell perfected,” Rysdale said softly. “It took a bit longer than I had expected … but given the short notice, it is as good as can be expected.”
“As good as can be expected?” Chance growled. “What does that mean?”
“Indeed … there are two very important things that will be working against you,” said the wizard as he started walking towards a small, arched door on the other side of the weapons chamber.
Chance and Trevor followed and came up to flank him. Chance reached for the wizard’s arm and touched him. “Rysdale … what will be working against us?”
“In a moment, Chancemont … now we have to get to my portal!” Rysdale answered crisply with a finger up in the air.
“Then lead the way.” Chance started forward and turned to wait for the wizard. “Come on …” he encouraged as Rysdale stood for a moment, apparently deep in thought.
“It occurs to me that something must proceed you into the portal. Yes, right then, off we go,” Rysdale said as he marched to the door and swung it open, waving his hand for Chance and Trevor to precede him.
“You will have to use all your wits … and take care that emotion doesn’t overwhelm you. He will use emotion against you …” Rysdale muttered as he collected an odd-shaped piece of metal and walked briskly towards a circle in the far wall of the dark chamber. The circle had been inlaid with stone.
He mumbled quietly to himself and then waved his wand, and a whirlwind of mist and fog swirled before their eyes.
Then followed another set of mumblings and a sharp movement of his wand across the piece of metal before he turned to Chance and said, “That should do it. I sent something before you … for it will take you some moments to find him in his dimension. He has hidden his castle well, and this portal will take you only inside the dimension … not precisely to his habitat.”
“Right then, Rysdale—do we just walk into that? It looks so thick we’ll have to carve a path …”
Rysdale barked a laugh. “No … you’ll be taken to the ‘time dimension’ you seek. However, there is a drawback.”
“Of course there is,” said Chance with an impatient movement of his head.
“I must spell you to return, and because of the ‘standing still’ situation in his time dimension, you will only have thirty or so minutes by our time. I am not sure how much time that will translate to in his dimension.”
“It is what it is,” said Trevor with a grimace.
Chance grinned at him. “You sounded almost human, my lad!”
Trevor grinned, shrugged, and said, “And yet, I am not.”
“I have to tell you that I get a sense of Pestale at the other end of my portal. It is why I sent a thunderbolt to precede you.”
“Damnation, Rysdale, he will know we are coming!” snapped Chance.
“It was necessary to distract him …”
“Distract him from what?” Then dawning filtered through Chance’s mind. “Royce, m’wee love, is in trouble.” He stepped forward. “Right then—we are off!”
“Remember, time is of the essence—get in, get to her, and get her out. Make sure she is with you when you feel your time is up.”
“Thank you, Wizard,” Chance said grimly.
“Yes, indeed,” said Trevor. “Well done.”
Rysdale shrugged. “No, there isn’t enough time to do this well, but it is a great deal better than nothing.” He walked with them to the portal’s swirling opening and added, “There is something I get a sense of … his weakness.”
“Weakness?” Chance urged.
“Indeed, he has a weakness,” offered the wizard hesitantly, “but do not think that this weakness will make him … less potent. He is both ruthless and determined.”
“What is this weakness?”
“He cannot control the formation of his time dimension and fight to the death at the same time. One or the other has to give—he can forego the fight or lose the dimension he has so carefully constructed.”
“So that … in the ‘time dimension’ he is less powerful?” Chance was surprised.
“Precisely, but, Chance my boy, do not think that makes him less dangerous,” the wizard gazed at him meaningfully.
Chance considered this and stepped into an atmosphere in which he suspected it would be difficult to breathe. He was surprised to find that was not the case as he was sucked through a wormhole and landed on his feet in a dimension of ‘nothing.’
Trevor was right behind him and asked, “Whoa … now where do we go?”
“Got your Orb, Trev?” Chance asked, one brow arched.
Trev grinned. “You think it will work in here, don’t you?”
“Aye, lad, I do …”
* * *
“Take your clothes off … slowly, I want to enjoy this …” Pestale told her.
Royce cringed inside. She had to do what he wanted, but how could she? How could she let him touch her when she loathed him—when her body and mind revolted and screamed out for Chance instead?
She needed time; she needed to stall. “Don’t you want to do the vow first?” She made the offer knowing the vow would be meaningless, for she was sure she’d already bonded with Chance. “I thought you wanted—”
“Now, all I want is to watch you undress,” he said, cutting her off. “Everything else in its own good time … time, which we shall have so much of,” he answered confidently. “Now … take off that top … or shall I?”
She decided to play along, also to stall, and played with her top, lifting it and pulling it down slowly, only revealing a bit of her naked breasts underneath.
She could see desire in his eyes and felt an ov
erwhelming sense of disgust, but she needed to buy time so she lifted her black tank top up again and gave him a flash of her breasts before pulling it back down.
“Off now …” he said hungrily. “I want to look at those beautiful nipples.”
She lifted off her tank top and threw it to the ground, unable to continue with the charade of a strip tease. “There—does that make you happy? Does that make you feel like a big, proud warrior? Forcing me—”
“Yes, in fact, it does,” he said softly. “Your breasts are beautiful … full, and those big, hard nipples are begging to be licked, and I mean to accommodate them very soon … now, those jeans—off.”
She crossed her arms across her naked breasts and said, “No.”
“I know, they fit you so well, but I want them off—NOW!”
Her essence screamed for her to run and find a way out of her predicament. Run, find a way to young David—heal him yourself.
“No,” she said again, as something of who she was filtered into her mind. She blinked, and her black tank top was once again covering her torso. “No … I won’t …”
He strode towards her, hard and fast, and before she could think or defend herself he slapped her hard and ripped at her top.
She kicked him in the balls.
It was a human thing she had learned, and she smiled to see that it worked on Fae as well.
He was about to take action against her when a hurtling bolt of lightning (for Royce thought there was no other way to describe it) came slamming into the room and caught him in the chest.
Royce had no idea where this had originated or who had sent it, but it seemed to gather into a ball of fire, and its target, she could see, was Pestale, for it slammed into him again!
He recovered, and with a word and a flick of his wrist the ball of fire was vanquished, leaving ash on the floor.
However, he was startled away from Royce since someone had clearly broken through his barrier. Without a word, he left her to herself and shifted out.
She had no idea where he went, but she hurried down onto her knees and sniffed at the ash left behind by the fireball. Magic was a given, but she had expected … she had hoped it had been Chance.
Sorcerers worked with herbs and artifacts, and some even had familiars. Most sorcerers were not immortal. The scent she got off the burnt-out ball of fire was very potent—and she could detect definite traces of immortality. She knew of only one immortal wizard. She had never met him and was fairly certain he knew nothing about her, yet … this had the feel of wizardry!
“Rysdale,” she whispered to herself and smiled.
* * *
“Well?” Chance demanded as he looked into the cloudy globe. “Why isn’t it doing anything?”
“Have patience, Milesian!” Trevor snapped impatiently.
Chance growled, “We doona have the time, lad …”
“There …” Trevor said, holding the globe out.
The dark cloud within the glass cleared, and it displayed an oddly shaped castle. Then it said, “An illusion,” clouded over again, and was silent.
Chance and Trevor looked at one another. Chance said, “What does that mean, an illusion?”
“It means it isn’t real—but I’m not sure why”
“I am,” said Chance. “It’s so that he could change its location. Illusion is just that … nothing more. He can shift with her anywhere in this dimension … and unless she was looking for it, she wouldn’t know that it wasn’t real.”
“Then we had better hurry so that we can get a fix on him …”
They shifted into the castle, and Chance looked around. “It may be an illusion, lad, but it is a damn real one.”
“Yes … but focus … focus not on what you see, but on what you feel,” Trevor said. He closed and reopened his eyes. “By Danu … nothing, there is nothing here … and there, there is Red!”
Chance did what Trevor said and saw through the illusion. “Royce!” he called as he stepped towards her. She was about one hundred feet away.
Pestale stepped between them.
* * *
“Chance,” she answered softly in response. She knew he would find her. She had always known. She had been hoping, stalling, waiting for this moment. He was down the corridor—he was here in Pestale’s castle. He and Trevor had come to save her, but she couldn’t be saved; she had David and his parents to think about. They would be conscious soon …
She stood perfectly still, although the need to run to Chance was overwhelming, and a sob caught in her throat. And then … Pestale stood between them.
All at once, she knew what she had to do. Silently she called for her sword!
She could see Chance’s smile as he did the same; Trevor was just a step behind him, and they had Pestale surrounded.
Pestale laughed and shifted away, his own death weapon held high as he waved it at them and said, “Put your weapon away, Princess, and come to me. You know what I will do, if you don’t.”
Royce felt defeated by his threat, and yet, her mind told her to lunge at him, lunge, and with a growl of rage, so she did.
It gave Chance the opportunity, and he ensnared the Dark Prince with the Golden Net he snatched out of Trevor’s hands.
Pestale stood frozen in place, unable to move, a prisoner of the Seelie Golden Net! His father had such a net—he had even used it on occasion not so long ago …
He released a bellow of frustrated rage.
Chance came up to him and aimed his death weapon.
Trevor did not try and stop him because all he could see was his sweet love, Lana, at Pestale’s hand … her throat sliced open.
It was Royce who jumped to Chance and held his arm in mid-movement, “Chance!”
“He needs dying,” Chance answered her.
“He should be punished—death is too easy,” she said.
“What are ye saying, love?”
“I am saying that he needs to be returned to Queen Aaibhe … and then to the Dark Realm. We can’t sink to his level.”
“No. I want to see him die slowly. I mean to cut him in slow degrees and allow the poison of the Death Sword to fill his blood and give him pain over days and days …”
“Did it make it better? Did it … when you and your father … tortured the villain who killed your mother—did it make anything better?”
“That doona be the point …”
“It is … it is the point. Punish him—put him in hell! Can’t you see? He dreads it … it is the one punishment that will serve.”
Chancemont looked long at his beloved and touched her face. “Aye then … hell it is. We haven’t any time to waste now. Hold onto me—we are going to be sucked back into the portal at any moment …”
Royce couldn’t believe he had actually agreed not to kill Pestale, but when Pestale laughed and thanked her, she turned on him. “You beast. You are a heartless killer. Well, off you go back to your brothers and Morrigu … and the hell you will never escape again.”
“Oh, don’t say that, Princess … what was accomplished once may yet be again, and next time … next time, I will have my family with me … and I will come for you! Make no mistake. I will come for you!”
His words sent shivers through Royce, and she leaned into Chance, who held her and kissed the top of her head. “Let me kill him now …”
At that moment they were pulled through the portal, as was the ‘in between’ dimension, and found themselves once more in Rysdale’s portal room.
~ Epilogue ~
THE QUEEN ARRIVED with her Trackers and took custody of the Dark Prince. There was a bit of a ceremony before she led the way into the Dark Realm and gave Pestale over to the Dark King.
The Dark King’s presence was felt, not seen, as he said, “Pestale, son of hope, best of my creations, a vicious disappointment. Your memory will be erased … as were your brothers’ and Morrigu’s. It was cruel not to have done so sooner. My Crystal has made me understand. You will be given a new start … w
e shall see what will come of it.”
The queen watched as Pestale vanished into his father’s keeping. Then she and the Trackers returned to the Isles of Tir.
She called on Chancemont, Royce, and Trevor to attend her in her private chambers, and in full court dress all three appeared.
Once again, Lord Morgan stood at her side. Royce watched Chance’s expression as he looked from his father to the Queen of the Seelie Fae. She wanted to giggle, but she controlled herself.
“You are to be commended. I am quite proud of both you, Prince Trevor and Princess Royce.” She turned to Chancemont. “You have displayed yourself a true friend of this court, Chancemont LeBlanc. Your service to us will never be forgotten.”
“Then I ask a boon,” said Chancemont, surprising Royce, who looked at him with wide eyes.
“Of course,” said the queen with a soft smile.
“Your blessing on the union between myself and Princess Royce,” he said.
The queen looked at the princess. “Is this your wish?”
“With all my essence, it is,” Royce said, trembling and about to do something she had not done in awhile—cry.
“Granted,” said the queen, smiling at Chance as she put her princess’s hand on his. “I shall give the party here at my castle.”
“No, it shall be at Dravo,” said Chance.
The queen frowned, and Lord Morgan said, “We will have the ceremony here in Faery, but we will then repair to our manor for the ensuing festivities.”
Queen Aaibhe smiled sweetly at him and said, “So wise, my lord, so wise …”
Royce, heedless of all these machinations, had already jumped into Chance’s arms and was covering his face in kisses.
Trevor grinned and shook his head …
And so, for them, a new beginning!
~ Not Exactly the End ~
Trevor is about to learn just how much a human can matter to him. Continue reading for an excerpt of Through Time-Whiplash …
Trevor’s second chance to deal with Pestale
turns complicated when he and Fios Jasmine Decker