by M. J. Putney
She sent out a mental call for help. Allarde at least could hear. She sensed his instant response. He was coming to meet them.
Praying she’d not signed his death warrant, she said between gasps for breath, “Rebecca, keep going up the hill! Allarde will help you and Aaron. I’ll stay here and slow the soldiers down.”
“But…” Rebecca glanced over her shoulder, her face agonized.
“Go! I’ll follow soon.” If she survived long enough to run again.
“God bless you,” Rebecca panted as she struggled upward, Aaron whimpering at how tightly she held him.
Tory turned, summoning all her remaining magic and tapping into Allarde’s as well. His energy was down, but what he had was freely given.
Soldiers crashed toward her through the underbrush lower on the hill. At least three or four, perhaps more. She saw their dark shapes moving among the trees. They were charging straight up the hill, which would take them by a leaning tree. With the soil so wet, it wouldn’t take much power to pull it down.
She forced herself to wait as they drew closer and closer. Just as they reached the tree, she crashed it down on them.
The shouts and curses that followed its fall were so vigorous that she realized few if any of the pursuers were seriously injured. Hoping it would take a few precious moments for them to recover from their surprise and get untangled, she spun around and continued up the hill as fast as her tired legs would take her.
She flinched as a burst of bullets snarled by. One of the Germans had a portable machine gun. Nick would know what it was called. She began to zigzag, taking advantage of the larger trees while she prayed that the soldiers’ aim would be bad since they were running, too.
Allarde burst from the cave and charged down the hill like an avenging war god. Nick wasn’t far behind. Both were firing handguns at the Germans.
Hitting a target was unlikely, but their bullets slowed down her pursuers. Allarde passed Rebecca, who was staggering toward the cave, but Nick stopped and scooped Aaron from her arms. Not missing a step, he pivoted and wrapped his other arm around her waist to haul her to the safety of the cave.
Allarde continued toward Tory, his face blazing with determination. She wanted to scream at him to retreat before the Germans could see him well enough for a clear shot, but she had no breath, no strength.
She tripped and crashed to the ground. Incapable of moving, she began to weep uncontrollably. So close, close …
Gasping for breath, she called, “Justin, go back! Don’t commit suicide in a hopeless cause!”
“Steady, Tory!” Covering the last yards between them, he skidded to a halt above her and fired the last bullet from his handgun.
She could feel him gathering his magic as he shoved the empty handgun into his waistband. Then he flung up his hands toward the oncoming soldiers and power blazed from his palms like invisible flames.
The sounds of gunfire changed. Weapons continued their ear-numbing bursts, but they were joined by a hard, pattering sound like hail.
Tory gasped. Dear God in heaven, Allarde was creating a shield that knocked the bullets from the air!
His flinty gaze still fixed on the oncoming soldiers, he caught her hand and hauled her to her feet. His touch conveyed the enormous strain of blocking the fusillade of bullets, but he never wavered.
She managed to get her feet under her so she could move on her own. Her hand locked on his, she guided them up the hill. He continued to face the Germans, protecting Tory and himself from the gunfire by magic and fierce willpower.
Heart pounding and muscles near collapse, she forced herself to keep moving. The cave was only a dozen paces ahead. Half a dozen. Only another stride …
They staggered inside. Tory hadn’t thought what would happen next, but Allarde had. “Get back!” he barked at the other Irregulars. “Move Jack deeper into the cave!”
They scrambled to obey. Nick heaved Jack to his feet, the girls helping. Agony flashed across Jack’s face, but he didn’t utter a sound. The four of them disappeared into the tunnel, leaving Tory and Allarde alone in the antechamber.
Tory numbly followed, her hand still clamped on Allarde’s. When they were a dozen paces from the entrance, he said tautly, “I need all the magic you have, Tory!”
“It’s yours.” She reached into her deepest reserves, finding resources she didn’t know she had, pouring the power into him.
Focusing their combined magic in an incandescent blast, Allarde collapsed the entrance to the cave in a deafening avalanche of stone and earth. The door between them and their Nazi pursuers was now closed and locked.
CHAPTER 36
As debris showered between them and the entrance, Allarde pulled Tory down to the floor and engulfed her in his arms to protect her from the hail of dirt and rocks. She clung to him as fragments bounced off her back, coughing from the dust and never wanting to let him go.
His face was buried in her wet hair when the cascade ended. The darkness was absolute. She said shakily, “I didn’t know you could block bullets like that!”
His embrace tightened. “Neither did I.”
“You didn’t know if you could?” she exclaimed, aghast. “And you still ran straight into the gunfire? Justin, you’re insane!”
“I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you,” he said simply.
She wanted to weep. “You could have been killed! You shouldn’t have risked your life. We aren’t even really together.”
His voice deep and amused, he said, “Tory, my love, we’ve never been apart, even when you were at your most nobly pigheaded. I admire the nobility, and prayed that it wouldn’t take you too long to recognize that the bond between us is too strong to be severed for logical, worldly reasons.”
He was right, she realized. Their connection had stayed strong and undeniable even when she was trying her hardest to do the right thing. Even now, she had to try. “Stronger than your bond to Kemperton?”
“Stronger even than that.” His fingers lifted her chin and he kissed her with dizzying intimacy.
Surrendering, she dropped her resistance and all pretense to nobility. She kissed him back with feverish need as relief and magic melded them closer than they’d ever been. With him, she felt right.
When they finally broke for breath, she whispered, “I wish you didn’t have to choose between Kemperton and me.”
“I will miss Kemperton terribly,” he said, his voice grave. “But you are my heart, Tory. How can I live without my heart?”
“And you are my soul.” She leaned against him, her eyes closed on unshed tears. “I have never been more tired, or happier, in my life.”
He chuckled. “My sentiments exactly.”
She smiled into the darkness. He was right. They’d always been together.
They always would be.
* * *
Their moment of privacy ended when Nick arrived with a light. “Well, that was exciting,” he remarked. “Are you both all right?”
Tory laughed, euphoria bubbling up through her fatigue. “Never better.”
Nick regarded them both with interest. “It’s about time you two made it up. I should have organized a betting pool for how long you could manage to stay apart.”
“A gentleman would never place such a wager,” Allarde said in his most aristocratic manner as he got to his feet.
“You’re the only gentleman here,” Nick said cheerfully, “so the rest of us could have indulged.”
Allarde laughed as he brushed dirt from his clothing, then offered Tory a hand up. “Your little holiday in France has been interesting, Nick, but I’m ready to go home.”
“So am I!” he said fervently. “Come into the next chamber. We’re figuring out what happens next. Cynthia just heated water for tea.”
“Tea!” Tory was grateful for Allarde’s hand as she stood, aching in every muscle. “The drink that built the British Empire.”
“Tea is all we have left,” Nick said. “The remaining food was gi
ven to the children.”
Tory shivered as she looked at the mound of stone and debris that blocked the tunnel. If she and Allarde had been two yards closer to the entrance, they wouldn’t be walking away. “Rebecca has mage power.”
Nick blinked. “She does, doesn’t she? I was so distracted by—everything else—that I hadn’t consciously noticed.”
He was too busy drowning in Rebecca’s gray-green eyes, Tory suspected. That was no bad thing.
They moved deeper into the cave and emerged in a medium-sized chamber containing the other Irregulars. Elspeth and Jack and Cynthia were settled around a large mage light that had been shaped to resemble a campfire.
Jack lay on a folded blanket, battered but conscious. He and Cynthia were holding hands. Tory suspected that her roommate’s snobbery had given up the fight in the face of Jack’s charm and obvious fondness for her.
Elspeth scrambled to her feet to hug Allarde. “When you and I shared a nursery during family visits, who would have dreamed what we’d be doing now?”
He hugged her back with the arm that wasn’t around Tory. “You always were my favorite cousin. But I certainly didn’t foresee this.”
Cynthia poured cups of steaming tea and handed them to Tory and Allarde. “Alas, no sugar.”
“It still tastes like ambrosia.” Tory sat by Allarde and sipped at the hot, fragrant beverage. “How long until we’ve recovered enough to take everyone back to Lackland?”
Elspeth settled back by the pretend fire. “We all need a good sleep. It’s going to take me a few days to recover from burning so much power so don’t count on me to contribute much. But I did stop short of complete burnout.”
Tory frowned as she thought of the upcoming mirror passage. “How are our guests taking the idea of magic? Are they alarmed? Will they talk about us too much in the future?”
“While I was doing healing on family members who needed it, I did some gentle work on everyone to persuade them not to think too much about their escape.” Elspeth covered a yawn. “And not to talk about it since doing so might get them sent to Bedlam.”
“I haven’t used as much magic as the rest of you,” Nick said. “So I’ll be full strength. Tory?”
She mentally inventoried her supply of magic. “Eight hours’ sleep and I’ll be able to do my share, I think. But what if the Germans try to dig their way in?”
“I’ll listen for that,” Allarde said, “but I don’t think they’ll try. With luck, they’ll think we died when the cave collapsed. They only saw four of us. As far as they know, there are other fugitives to be hunted down elsewhere.”
“Not that the Nazis will find them.” Nick quirked a smile. “Rescuing just one man seemed like such a simple mission.”
Thinking of Rebecca, Tory said, “Your compulsion to come after Dr. Weiss has more than one reason behind it.”
“Are we going to run out of breathing air now that the entrance to the cave is closed?” Cynthia asked.
Allarde shook his head. “The cave is too large, and there are other entrances.”
“Wonderful,” Jack said with a touch of his usual wicked humor. “So we can return if we want another holiday in France.”
“You’ll have to make it a boys’ holiday,” Cynthia said tartly. “None of us girls are fool enough to do this again!”
Tory didn’t bother to mention that they hadn’t meant to do it this time, either. She got creakily to her feet. “Is there a blanket? Not that I need one. Bare rock will do.”
“There’s only one blanket left,” Cynthia said. “Several went to the children, and Jack is hogging two.”
He started to struggle up. “I’ll give one of these up.”
Cynthia put a hand on his good shoulder and pushed him flat. “No, you won’t. I’ll stay warm without one. Hearth-witch magic is so useful.”
“Tory, we should sleep by the cave-in to listen for possible digging,” Allarde said calmly. “So we don’t need a blanket.”
She gave him a slow smile. “Indeed we don’t.”
He took her arm and escorted her toward the collapsed entrance. He was right that a blanket wasn’t necessary. When he lay on his side and pulled Tory against him spoon-style, she had all the warmth and comfort she needed.
“Sleep well, my darling,” he murmured.
“I already feel like I’m dreaming,” she whispered as she rested her head on his shoulder. A stony bed was more comfortable than her four poster at Fairmount Hall when she slept warm and protected in the arms of her beloved.
* * *
To Cynthia’s annoyance, Nick moved off to sleep outside the entrance to the Weisses’ room. Then Elspeth joined the Steins so she could sleep with the baby and let the exhausted mother rest with her husband.
That left Cynthia alone with Jack. He had two blankets, she had the last one. She dimmed the mock fire to a gentle glow and was about to wrap herself in the blanket on the opposite side from Jack when he said in a low voice, “Come here.”
She tensed, thinking of his injuries. “Is something wrong?”
He extended his good hand to her. “I’m cold and need you to warm me up.”
“I can do that from here with hearth-witch magic,” she pointed out.
He wiggled his fingers coaxingly. “It’s not the same.”
“Idiot,” she grumbled, but he was right. Body warmth had a quality that mere heat could never match. Though she was warm physically, the depths of her soul were still shivering from the long, horrible night. She moved across the chamber rather warily.
“We are both in dire need of rest,” he said, “so make yourself comfortable. I’m softer than the ground.”
She hesitated, thinking of the agonies he’d suffered. “You have so many bruises that any kind of pressure might hurt you.”
“Not having you close will hurt more.” He caught her hand and tugged her down. “As long as you’re on my right side, I’ll be fine.”
Fear and exhaustion and being in a time and place not her own stripped away any other objections. She stretched along his warm, firm body, her head on his uninjured shoulder. “I suppose you’re in no condition to ruin me, and being compromised in a different century doesn’t really count.”
His laughter warmed her even more. “You’re right, there is no way I could ruin you. Not that I’d want to do anything to hurt you.” His hand stroked down her arm. “You saved my life, Cynthia. Now it belongs to you.”
She jerked awake. “Nonsense! I was just … fixing a bad mistake I made. I don’t want your life!”
“That’s unfortunate,” he said softly. “Because I want to give it to you.”
The words were bad enough, but it was the warm emotion he poured into her that broke her down. The worst had happened.
Fighting back tears, she tried to get away, but his good arm held her in place with more strength than he should have after that beating. “I don’t understand,” she gasped, hiding her face against his side. “You can’t mean that. How can you possibly like a scarred, impossible girl like me?”
He kissed her forehead. “Because I love beautiful, gallant, wounded creatures.”
She began sobbing uncontrollably.
“Am I that bad a bargain, Cinders?” he asked softly. “I know I’m a peasant compared to you, but I thought that didn’t bother you as much as it used to.”
Voice choked, she said, “N … no one has really cared about me since my mother died. And … she wouldn’t have died if my father had sent for a healer like Elspeth. But because she had magic, he wanted her dead. And me, too.” Her mouth twisted with bitterness. “I refused to oblige him.”
“Oh, Cynthia.” His arm tightened around her and he rested his cheek against the top of her head. “What a fool he was to throw away such a jewel of a daughter.”
The vibration of his voice was soothing, like the purring of his silly cat back at Swallow Grange. Deep knots in her spirit began to unwind. “You wouldn’t throw me away, would you?” she asked in a small
voice. Jack was nothing like her father, but this was a question she had to ask. And an answer she needed to hear.
For once speaking with no trace of levity, he said, “Only a fool would throw away the most precious thing he’s ever found. And I am not a fool.”
Cynthia had closed her heart to love after her mother died, but she could no longer bear the loneliness. Gathering her courage, she dropped the barriers she’d built to protect herself from pain. Though she’d shared magic with him for their weather work, the rush of his emotions she felt now was like nothing she’d ever experienced. Love, respect, a fierce desire that he’d kept banked so he wouldn’t frighten her.
Most of all, she felt his love. As joy blossomed within her, she began to laugh. “I’m joining your collection of damaged creatures, aren’t I?”
“They’re all special.” There was a grin in Jack’s voice as he traced the scar on her cheek that she no longer bothered to conceal. “And you’re the most special of all.”
CHAPTER 37
Despite the unorthodox night’s sleep, Tory knew exactly where she was when she awoke. She and Allarde still lay spooned together, her head on his shoulder, his warm arm wrapped around her waist. Despite the darkness and stuffy air and cold stone beneath her, she had never felt happier in her life.
“You’re awake, aren’t you?” he asked softly as he created a mage light and tossed it into the air above them.
“Your shoulder must be numb since I’ve been sleeping on it.” She rolled onto her back and trailed fingers down his cheek. “And your whiskers are getting serious.”
He turned his head and kissed the center of her palm. “I hope you don’t mind.”
She gasped as desire flared through her. “We … we should be thinking about going home,” she stammered.
“Soon.” He bent his head and kissed her again, his warm body enfolding her.