by Judith Leger
She opened her eyes and sought Rhys’s. “He loved you. Wanted to keep you and your family safe. Oh, there was so much going on inside him. There were so many doubts about what Gwyneth planned but he wanted you to see there was true danger lurking around. He only wanted to help you.”
Her hoarse voice echoed with misery and sorrow as she struggled to speak. “How could you do this to him? He suffers right now because of the wounds and guilt he experiences. It’s nonstop for him while he’s in that form. How can you live with yourself?”
Rhys didn’t answer right away. With his arms about her shoulders, he guided her to the bench near the blackthorn. Caitlyn stared at the tree. Tears threatened.
Shay.
Rhys knelt in front of her, bringing her attention to him. A glimmer of sorrow reflected in his blue gaze. “I cannot rescind my judgment. Chaos would follow. Remember, my daughter, I am king to the Tylwyth Teg. My duty to the protection and well-being of my clan must come first. If one attacks the clan, I must, and will, retaliate in a manner befitting the action. What Shay did violated not only the clan and our system of life, but it was aimed personally at me. I cannot relent on this matter.”
“He wanted to you to strengthen your guard. He was trying to help you but you wouldn’t listen.” No matter how hard Caitlyn tried, she doubted she’d convince Rhys. Stubborn man. “This is exactly what Shay went through all those years ago.”
“Because one wants to help does not mean that their help is right. Shay knew the chance he took. He knew. Because of this, he did not fight his sentence. Even now, he could have chosen not to return. He did so with the full knowledge that his sentence would resume.”
Rhys reached up as he finished speaking and gently tucked a strand of her hair over her ear. Not only did grief radiate from his gaze, but something more. Caitlyn sensed that he wanted to release Shay.
“He brought me back. Isn’t that grounds for a possible pardon? He is changed. He won’t do something like this ever again. I know he won’t,” she cried, then stopped. “Great, now I’m begging. I don’t beg. Not to anyone.”
Spine stiff, she scooted sideways on the bench. The stone edge beneath her rear pressed into her skin, waking up numbed nerve endings throughout her body. A cool touch on the nape of her neck caused her to jerk around.
Myrielle leaned over her. “Come, Caitlyn. Rest for the night. When morning comes, you will be refreshed so you might solve the riddle quicker. Come, daughter.”
Numbness returned, only this time instead of her thoughts remaining clear and focused, a strong desire to sleep washed over her. More magic. Her eyelids drooped. She hated magic.
Strong arms encircled her shoulders and slid under her knees, lifting her up. Eyes heavy, she rolled her head against solid muscle covered by fine velvet. Rhys’s blue gaze caught hers and he smiled.
“Sleep, Caitlyn.”
With the soft spoken command, she closed her eyes and drifted off.
* * * *
Birds trilled and Caitlyn stirred within the warm cocoon of blankets. Sluggish, she cracked open her eyes. Sunlight streamed through the open windows and doorway across from her. The arched entrance revealed trees swaying in the gentle breeze.
She smiled and stretched. A sharp stab of awareness shot through her. Someone was with her. She sensed their life force. Frowning, she remained still, listening. Several moments passed with the buzzing of the insects and the chirping of the birds the only sounds around her, then a faint noise reached her. Wood shifting.
An accented voice came to her. “I know ye be awake, princess. Are ye planning to stay abed for the rest of the morn, or do ye wish to rise up and help yerself and yer Shay?”
Grazelda. There was no mistaking the woman’s voice.
She sat up and searched the room. Drawing her knees to her chest, she saw Grazelda. There before the empty hearth, Shay’s housekeeper sat in a straight-backed chair. After a deep breath, Caitlyn questioned her, “You’re one of them, too?”
The elderly woman cackled. “One of them? We, all of us that were closest to Shay, are ones. As ye are, sweetling. Now, up with ye.”
Resting her cheek on her bent knees, Caitlyn sighed. “Get up for what? As soon as I find out some new information that upsets me, Rhys and Myrielle will put me to sleep. I wish they wouldn’t do that.”
“Then tell ’em not to. They may not like it, but they will abide by yer wishes.”
Caitlyn shifted so her chin dug into her kneecap. She studied the old woman. “Tell me about Shay and Gwyneth.”
“Tell ye what?”
She waved a hand around. “What were they like? What made them do what they did? Do you believe Shay is innocent?”
Grazelda glanced at her. An audible gush of air escaped her as she rose from the chair. “Shay is a loving, sweet-natured youth.”
Caitlyn lifted a brow at the old woman’s last choice of word as she described Shay. At almost four thousand years old, he was not a youth. Deciding not to argue the point, she prompted Grazelda. “And Gwyneth?”
A look of disgust washed over the old woman’s features.
Grazelda ambled to the bed and stood gazing at Caitlyn. When she spoke, she left no doubt of her feelings for Gwyneth. “She thought too much of herself. Always with airs about her. She considered most of the clan inferior. She, after all, is the youngest sister to the ruler of our home planet. Overlord Tyr taught Gwyneth all she knew about status and order. She never understood, that when we arrived here, what always served on Vanir did not apply to this new and wondrous planet.”
“So, she was more or less an outsider with the clan. Didn’t fit in?”
“Aye, never tried.”
For a moment, Caitlyn considered this. “Do you think she wanted to? That, maybe, she thought this would be a way of getting someone to notice her?”
“If so, ’twas strange indeed. She liked the dark arts, always brewing potions and whatnot. Rhys reprimanded her many times for dabbling into what she ought not to. I always thought this was her revenge on him for doing so.” Grazelda held a length of material. “Here, get dressed, dearie. The king has decided to allow you to speak with every clan member.”
“How kind of him,” she muttered.
The deep emerald green cloth turned out to be a dress. Fitted across the top of her body like a second skin, it flared in flowing skeins to her feet.
Grazelda brought a gold ringed belt and encircled the top of Caitlyn’s hips with it. Bands of beaten gold were added to her arms above the elbow. The final touch came in the form of a thin gold band placed across her brow. With her hair down, she almost didn’t recognize herself in the standing mirror. The shade of the dress echoed her eyes, intensifying the color.
She glanced at the vines cascading down the walls behind the mirror, tensing as she waited for one to aim at her hair. Nothing happened. Breathing a sigh of relief, she faced Grazelda.
“I’m dressed. Now what?
The old woman cocked her head. Her movements were spryer here than they had been in the human world.
“I don’t mean to be nosy, but how old are you?” Caitlyn studied the woman’s features.
Yes, she was right. The deep age lines were not as distinct here. Also, her accent seemed more pronounced. Was this a carryover from her home world, or had the elderly woman preferred the old way of speaking to the modern world’s?
Grazelda cackled. “I be much older than any in this place. I came here as nanny to the fledglings on board. I was already close to ten thousand Earth years at that time. Now, you must understand. The passage of years here and on our birth planet is different from each other. What would be a thousand years on this Earth is roughly five years on Vanir. So by human standards, we, the Tylwyth Teg, are considered immortals. By human standards, I am almost fifteen thousand years old.”
Caitlyn swallowed. “Has anyone ever returned to your home planet?”
“Ah, nay, sweetling. ’Twould serve no purpose. Shortly after we arrived here, we
felt a great unsettling in the life force of the universe. Our home is no more. The surge of grief and pain coming from Vanir has led us to believe the ones left behind were destroyed.” The old woman grasped Caitlyn’s arm and steered her toward the arched doorway. “Come along. Ye must see the riddle and begin to search for the answer.”
Her heart remained torn between disbelieving all that had occurred and wanting to figure out not only the riddle but how to free Shay. Confused, she allowed Grazelda to lead her from the room. The gardens spread before them in a glorious array of colors.
Unable to stop herself, she looked at the blackthorn tree. The breeze swayed the top branches. There weren’t any leaves on the limbs, just the white blooms. So odd. What had Shay said about the tree? It blooms in spring before the leaves come out.
Men and women roamed the stone paths winding through the gardens. None went near the tree. Did they fear Rhys would do to them what he had to Shay if they approached the tree? Or did they despise Shay for his part in her kidnapping? Of course, they probably were used to seeing him in the tree form. After all, twenty-five years had passed since she’d been taken.
“Where are my parents?” She searched the people, but didn’t see Rhys or Myrielle.
Grazelda waved an arm toward a building further down the covered terrace, to the left of her room. “They wait in the hall. First, though, ye must read the riddle. ’Tis there. Rhys had it carved onto a stone and placed at the foot of the tree as a reminder to him and all the clan of Shay’s crime.”
Caitlyn pulled her arm free and hurried to the blackthorn. The darkness last night prevented her from seeing the plaque. There, in granite next to the bench, was the riddle. She focused on the strange letters covering the angled surface. They blurred, then came into focus.
At first, she didn’t understand the meaning of the foreign words. Then, as if a light switched on, they appeared in English. A chill raced up her back. She didn’t know if she would ever get use to this bizarre place.
She read out loud, the words slipping from her tongue. “A key you need to unlock the heart, look ye close to the peeling bark. For beneath the roots lies the key to unlock the heart for eternity. Two powers unite and be as one. True and strong, it will be done, if you trod the right road to pay the price for which you owe.”
Great. The meaning stumped her. How could she figure this out before her birthday? Only a few days remained until she turned twenty-five. Every line reminded her of what Shay had said in the small office in Los Angeles. Poetic phrases. This topped everything that had happened to her.
“What tree has a peeling bark?” She shot a glance at Grazelda.
“Might not be a tree, dearie. That’s one thing about riddles, sometimes the simplest ones are the hardest to unravel,” the old woman commented. She winked at the tree and continued. “Good morn to ye, young Shay. How are ye today?”
The breeze rattled the branches and his voice, low and weak, washed over Caitlyn. “Been better. How are you, Caitlyn? Rested some, since last evening?”
She swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat. It took her several seconds before she was able to fight back the sting of tears in her eyes. “Yes, I did. I’m ready to start unraveling this puzzle. Do you have any ideas what the answer might be?”
No sound came to her on the breeze. Realization hit her. “You can’t tell me, can you? I have to figure it out by myself.”
She took a deep breath and faced the garden, turning her back to the tree. “Okay, where do we start? I need paper, pens–my computer would be great. Can you get those for me, Grazelda?”
“Don’t need yer computer. We have no way of making it work here,” Grazelda commented as she moved to the building where Caitlyn’s parents were.
“Wonderful.” One less helpful tool. She trailed behind the woman.
Chapter 33
Caitlyn entered the stone archway leading to a huge room. At the far end stood two regal high-backed chairs. Inlaid with gold, the chairs radiated a brilliant glow. Rhys and Myrielle rose from the seats and approached her.
They each greeted her with a kiss on her cheek. Myrielle clasped her hand and led her to a round table on the far side of the hall. Three chairs awaited them. Rhys pulled one out for Caitlyn, then another for Myrielle.
For a few seconds, she studied the couple. They claimed they were her parents. Would she ever see them that way? Shaking her head, she stopped that train of thought and spoke. “I’ve read the riddle, now what do I do? I’m lost here, so a little help is appreciated.”
“What do you want to know?” he asked, his eyes bluer than normal. A light shone from them. It suddenly occurred to her, it must be a reflection of his joy at having her here with them. They loved her. The proof lay in their gazes.
“How do I start? What is the key she’s talking about? Where’s the tree that is peeling? What are the two powers to unite, and how do I know that I’m on the right road?”
He glanced at Myrielle before he answered. “The peeling bark, we assume, is a sycamore tree. We’ve searched all in the Sidhe and found nothing. The key could be anything, as could the two powers. We are as lost as you. The only way to solve it is to work together.”
“Well, that cheers me up.” Caitlyn didn’t try to keep the sarcasm from her voice. Frustrated, she continued, “What about the clan? Do you think any of them might help solve this puzzle?”
“They are all willing to help you. There is not one of them who wish you harm,” he said, standing. “I will ask the first to come in to speak to you.”
“Not one? You’re wrong. There was one and there could be others. I want to talk to them alone. I have a feeling they’ll open up more if you and Myrielle aren’t there,” Caitlyn said. She glared up at the tall blond for several seconds, waiting for him to respond.
The muscle in his jaw twitched. He bowed his head and said, “It will be as you wish. But there will be guards close by. I will not risk the witch having a spy among us.”
He turned to Myrielle and held out his hand. She rose and glided to him, placing her fingers on his palm. “I will send the first one in to you.”
“Thanks.” Caitlyn didn’t allow them to see how torn she was by all this.
She certainly didn’t want to argue about the guards, when he’d conceded to her about interviewing the others alone. Clasping her trembling fingers together, she waited for the first person to arrive.
Paper and pen arrived with a handsome man. He looked like a normal teenager. Long dark hair fell about his shoulders, the right side braided in a five strand plait. His sweet, innocent smile reminded her of Shay. A pang of grief flashed in her chest. “How old are you?”
His blue eyes sparkled and a wide grin split his face. “I’m a hundred and fifty, your highness.”
She winced. “Don’t call me that. My name is Caitlyn.”
He only grinned wider before striding toward the door.
For the rest of the morning, she questioned each of the clan members. A tray of food appeared with a bevy of women. They laid the plates of raw vegetables, fruits, cheeses and bread on the table within reach. Goblets and a pitcher stood in the middle of the round surface.
Glad for the break, she ate. One woman filled the goblet, and Caitlyn realized with the first sip, it was water. Clear and clean, the liquid was ice cold. She frowned. More magic.
The afternoon passed in much the same way as the morning. With the light fading, she glanced out a window and watched the sun sink over the horizon. The day had gone by too fast.
Gathering the papers and pen, she returned to her room. Working by candlelight, she went over all the notes she’d taken during the day. Nothing struck her as important in all the things the clan told her. Of course, she still had quite a few to speak to before she was finished, but she’d hoped to have something to work with by tonight.
Exhausted, she stood and stretched. She moved toward the door. Without thinking, she walked into the garden. Several minutes later, she stood n
ext to the blackthorn.
She sat on the bench and stared at the tree.
“Hello,” she whispered.
The breeze washed her over. “You look tired.”
She drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms about them. “I am. I’m not any closer to the answer than I was this morning.”
A low chuckle reached her.
She glared at the tree. “There’s nothing funny about this situation, Shay Evers.”
“I wanted the fires to blaze in you. Like now. You need to feel, not just exist.”
Had that been how she lived her life? Existing and not living? Yes, she supposed so. “Why can’t you help me with the riddle?”
“I don’t want to cloud your mind. You must discover it on your own.”
“Without your help?” She tilted her head back. Stars filled the clear sky. She laid her cheek on her knees and whispered, “I miss you.”
Silence answered her.
Knowing he wouldn’t comment, she changed the subject. “Are you in pain?”
“No more than usual. Go to bed, Caitlyn. Rest for the night. You need all your senses fresh, and to be at ease so you can live.”
Refusing to respond right away, she sat in silence. Several minutes later, she fought the sudden urge to fall asleep. She jerked upright and accused, “Stop trying to make me sleep.”
“Go.”
“All right. I wish everyone would stop trying to make me go to sleep. Especially when I don’t want to,” she muttered. Shoving away from the bench, she stood. With her back to the tree, she whispered, “Good night and sweet dreams.”
Silence reigned in the garden as she strolled to her room, accompanied only by the fragrance of the flowers blooming. Once she entered the door, she glanced at the papers strewn over the top of the table on the far side of the room. She considered working more on unraveling the riddle.
So far, she hadn’t received any new information. She’d do as Shay wanted, and hopefully, tomorrow something new would come to her. Stretching, she undressed and climbed under the silken spread and fell asleep.