I covered my mouth, blinking away the tears that burned my eyes.
“Somehow, you changed the plan… the design. Somehow, you managed to bring his child here, in your womb… and it is changing everything.”
The morning before we left, I remembered watching West’s struggle as I asked him to make love to me, and give me a baby. He tried to resist, but couldn’t… and we conceived this child.
“You won’t hurt me, or Eva?” I demanded.
Pain slashed across his handsome face. “I would never hurt you. You’ve been through enough… and in so many lifetimes. Whether I find Asher and change this prophecy or not, I will get you safely home.” I let him reach for my hand, taking it in his as he knelt before me. “I swear to protect you with my own life.”
“Why?” I gazed down at him, wiping my tears away with my shoulder. “What am I… to you?”
He brushed his thumb over the back of my hand. “You are a mother.”
I searched the heartache in his eyes, gripping his hand. Finally, I understood.
“Helena…,”
“Was my mother,” he finished. “And I will be sure that my father pays for her life.”
I lowered to my knees as well, gathering him into my arms. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, guilt breaking through my words.
“Her death was not your fault.” He pressed his face into my shoulder. “She challenged him. She saw that he was cutting you, and ordered him to stop, threatening to help free you if he did not.”
No… guilt ignited hot flashes over my chest and face, turning the padded shirt to a sweltering blanket.
It was my fault.
“Troy can die here.”
“I am immortal only in the world I was born into, and I believe this is true for all immortals. Except for my father.” He raised his eyes. “Because of Asher’s spell.”
“And Eva…,”
“The fountains that take you to the past are useful in this life, but you have seen what happens when you try to pass through a door with her. She will always end up here.”
“We thought she’d died,” I looked down, remembering the tearful afternoon in West’s arms, at Paine Falls.
“Logan and I have a plan… and we require your cooperation,” he said, brushing at the tears under my eyes with his thumbs.
“I’ll do anything,” I cried fiercely, pulling him to his feet.
His voice lowered to rapid whispers, and I struggled to keep up with his words. “I believe the numbers on your arm indicate Asher’s location. The dungeons are hundreds of levels deep into the ground, designed to confuse. He is under constant guard, so I am working on a plan to get to him. For the masque,” he turned my palm over in his hand, tracing with his index finger. “Zero-seven-one-four… the keypad code for this room, can you remember that?”
“My birthday,” I murmured, nodding.
“Reverse the numbers for the hidden weapon room,” he searched my eyes urgently. “Ask that no firearms be permitted in the ballroom. Convince my father that they make you uncomfortable. Request that all of my father’s closest guards and advisors be present. All guests must wear masks and costumes at all times. No children,” he added quickly, taking my sword and hanging it back on the wall. “Very loud music. Understand?”
“Yes,” I nodded quickly. “You said you were trying to hide someone… Asher?” I asked as he closed the cabinet.
Will entered the code to lock the door, a small smile forming on his lips. “No. But… it will be someone who can… help us.”
Chapter Eight
“If you are good, I’ll let you get a toy. But you have to be good.”
“No car!”
In a flash of red curls, she became a tangle of arms and legs, twisting and turning in the car seat. “Eva…,”
West took a step back, crossing his arms over his chest. He stared her down, and she turned to him, crossing her own arms over her own chest and returning his even stare.
“No. Car.”
He fought the urge to laugh at her stubborn will so like his own.
“West?”
His hand at the holster on his belt, West turned at the man’s voice, blocking the car and pulling the gun into his hands in the same motion.
“Logan?”
Logan held his hands up, standing in the middle of the driveway. Early spring sun beat down on his shoulders, the bright light giving him a ghostly appearance. He was lean, his tanned face having lost some of the boyish roundness that he remembered from two years ago. His empty hands carried no weapon.
“It’s me… I’m alone,” he kept his hands high in the air. He wore jeans and the military-grade jacket he had provided for Logan on the day that they left, and carried a duffle bag slung over his shoulder. “I have someone working with me, on the other side,” he hurried, glancing at the car. “I can help you get through to save Roam.”
“Daddy, who that?”
“Eva, stay back,” West shouted, and she broke into angry tears.
“Out, out, OUT! I HOT!”
“She’s the key, the way back through the door.”
“I know. You think I’d carry her into a massacre?”
“Troy has a grown son. He’s trying to rule, and he wants the throne. He wants Roam out of there because she… carries his child.”
His forearms clenched as he gripped the gun. “It’s true, then?”
Logan turned toward the car, where Eva was in a full-on scream. “You can get her out. I swear I won’t hurt her, or you.”
“You can understand how difficult it is for me to trust you, after all that you’ve done over the centuries.”
Logan exhaled sharply, frustrated. “I can, but I don’t know how to convince you. Time moves much faster here. You have ten hours to go through the inclined plane. Beyond that, Troy will be waiting.”
He stared at Logan, reaching with one hand to comfort Eva. Finally, he lowered his weapon slightly. “Is Roam okay?”
Logan looked down. “She’s alive. But she’ll never be… okay… again,” he said.
He gathered Eva into his left arm, keeping the gun out to his right side. His chest tightened at Logan’s words. “Have you seen Violet?”
“Not yet. I don’t know how she feels about me… but if it’s still the same, I may not come back from this, and I don’t want her to… mourn.”
“She loves you,” West pressed his lips to Eva’s hair, shifting her slightly as she stared with wide eyes at Logan. “She’d stop at nothing to find you. I haven’t told her about Eva being the key… because I don’t know what she’d do.”
Logan focused on the little girl, a distant smile on his face. “Her eyes.”
“Roam’s,” West agreed, finally holstering his gun. “Logan, this son of Troy’s… how do you know you can trust him?”
Logan stared blankly ahead. “I have to. You have to get her out of there, West. She’s dying from the inside… out.”
He exhaled slowly, slipping the pistol back into the holster. “I’ve known Eva was the key for three months. You have no idea how close I’ve come to just driving her there and charging through.”
“Do you know what she’s been through?” Logan demanded, thinking of all of the terrible nights that Roam had spent with Troy. “Why didn’t you?”
West closed his eyes tightly, anguish forcing his head down. “Daddy,” Eva tucked her head against his shoulder.
Logan stared at him. “I understand. Roam wouldn’t have wanted that, either.” He nodded toward Eva. “I came here only because I believed you’d do whatever it took to get Roam back… even if we have to use Eva to go through. Was I wrong?”
After a long minute, West reached for his phone. “I’m calling Violet. And then we’ll go. Eva, babe,” he tugged at her sundress, covering her tights. “This is Logan. He’s Mommy… and Daddy’s friend.”
Logan took a few tentative steps toward her, and she smiled. “Hi,” she waved before shyly tucking her head back in West’s shoulder.<
br />
“Hi,” he replied, awestruck, raising his eyebrows. “You have pretty hair.”
She grinned, her tiny, white teeth flawlessly straight. “Like a princess.”
He chuckled. “Yes, like a princess.”
“Violet,” West’s voice on the phone drew his attention, and Logan watched the compassion fill his expression. “He’s here, but only for a few hours. Yes- he- Vi,” his commanding voice must have finally silenced her. “Just come over.”
Inside the house, Logan sat down, taking in the atmosphere with deep breaths. West’s house was the same structure that it was two years ago, but now every wall was lined with colorful bins of toys, stuffed animals, crayons and coloring books, and shelves holding story books. Once Eva was on her feet, she scrambled for a bookshelf, carefully choosing a story.
“Ducks,” she looked at West first, hesitantly, before walking to Logan. He nodded.
“Five Little Ducks. Yeah, I remember this one. Drama, drama, drama, then they all come back at the end. Want me to read it?” Logan sat back into the couch, taking in the strangeness of being away from the castle for the first time in months.
“Read it.” She climbed up on the couch, catching West’s prompting expression. “Read it please.”
She eagerly turned the pages as he read the words, sometimes before he was done. West began rushing up and down the stairs, preparing, and took a second to set a bottle of water and a sippy cup on the coffee table in front of them. “One hour.”
He nodded, the relief of freedom settling into a surprising exhaustion. “You have anything with caffeine?”
“I’ll put on some coffee. Violet just pulled in.”
Logan stood, watching through the windows as she climbed out of a silver Audi, her white-blonde curls tossing against at her face as she ran for the porch. He beat West to the door, throwing it open.
Her eyes, a blue-gray storm, told him in one look she still loved him every bit as much as she’d claimed to have before he’d left. The force of her impact nearly knocked him backwards; he slanted his mouth over hers, gripping her thick curls in his hands. “I thought… you’d never…,” she pulled her mouth away and hugged him, fighting a losing battle with tears. “Logan…,”
“We have to go… we have to save Roam,” West interrupted their reunion. “And… Eva has to come with us.”
“No!” Violet looked to Eva, fear evident in her eyes as she squatted and threw her arms out. The toddler ran to her older sister. “Why would you-…,”
“She’s the key, Violet,” Logan said gently, watching Violet cling to her sister. “She’s the only way we can pass through.”
“Then we go,” Laurel’s voice sounded from the doorway, and West turned to her. Logan noted that she appeared just slightly older, and realized she had begun to age again when she returned. An older version of Violet, she tucked her hands in the pocket of her light jacket. “Roam gave more than her life to save me. I’ll help any way I can, even if it’s just to care for Eva.”
Logan shook his head. “No. Only West and Eva. I’m barely able to get them through; I can’t bring anyone else.”
“Logan!”
“Violet,” he helped her back to her feet, kissing her softly. “I’ll come back this time. But you’ll have to wait. West will need you both to take care of the house…,”
“And tell Morgan.” West hadn’t spoken to Morgan since December, and though it was her wish to be apart, his first instinct was to call her.
“We have to go,” Logan kissed her again, his face in her hair. “Wait a little longer for me, okay?”
She nodded, pushing him away. Bending, she hugged and kissed Eva adoringly, whispering in her ear. “I love, love, love you.”
“Vi,” Eva complained, pulling away from her tearful kisses. Finally, Violet stood, and West shifted a backpack over his shoulder, staring at his oldest daughter.
“West,” she arched her eyebrow, flashing angry eyes at her father. “If it comes down to choosing between Roam and Eva, you know what you have to do. Do not let them hurt that little girl,” she cried vehemently, pointing at Eva on the floor. “This whole world depends on her survival, right, we know that. But it will kill me if anything happens to her. I know you love Roam,” she brushed at the tears with the back of her hand, “and you know I love Logan. But no matter what, keep Eva safe.”
“Come here,” he folded her into his arms, hugging her sternly. “I love you. I’ll come back with Eva, and Roam, and we’ll all be okay. Have faith.”
“Faith,” Violet scoffed, pressing her face to his shoulder. “Faith takes so freaking long.”
“I’ve missed so much of your life. I won’t do that again.”
She nodded and pulled away, turning to Logan. They sat next to Eva on the couch, talking quietly. West turned to Laurel as she moved to his side.
“What can I do?” she asked, gesturing to the house. “Just take care of the house? What else? West, I want to help.”
He stared at her, pulling her into a hug. “Take care of yourself. Violet told me that you and Michael are getting married. You need to focus on your life, and moving on.”
“Mike knows everything. We don’t have any secrets.” She tucked a curl behind her ear. “We’ll care for the house, and keep up with everything.”
“Laurel,” West pulled her aside, into the kitchen. “If… years pass,” he swallowed hard, turning to watch Violet on the couch. She and Logan clung to each other, his lips pressed to her hair. “Please help Violet move on. I don’t know when she’ll stop aging, whether it’s twenty-seven, like me, or before then. But… help her,” he finished softly as Laurel nodded.
“I will. She loves that boy… so much,” she shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know if I can watch her heart break again.”
“I will get Logan, Roam, and Eva home. If I don’t make it through,” he raised his chin slightly, taking a calming breath, “then please, be a friend to Roam. Be there for her.”
“Of course I will. And so will Violet, and Morgan, and Logan,” she promised, gathering his face in her hands. “But you’d better come back. I’d really like to see you get some gray hair, like me.”
He chuckled softly, hugging her again. “Give my best to Michael.”
“Daddy,” Eva stood on the couch, bouncing as Logan guarded her from falling. “Mommy’s train.”
West nodded, scooping her into his arms. He lowered his eyes to Logan, pressing his lips to Eva’s forehead. “We’re going to ride Mommy’s train.”
“I see Mommy?”
West nodded, tucking her face against his chest.
“I brought clothing for you, and for Eva. You’ll dress as a soldier, like me, and Eva as a commoner. Will has a maid who will take care of her while-…,”
“A stranger?” Violet shot to her feet, shaking her head. “West, I’m going. I can pass as a common woman, I can blend, please,” she reached for Eva, and the toddler crawled into her sister’s waiting arms. “Please-…,”
“Violet, no.”
She gripped Eva to her chest, tears glistening in her eyes and darkening them to sapphire. “Dad… please. I’ve never asked you for anything. Please.”
Her words ripped at his conscience. He glanced at Logan, and Logan looked between the two of them. “I can get her through. But I won’t be the one to put her in that position. Violet, you’re not immortal there.”
West kept his steady gaze over Eva’s shoulder. Finally, he nodded. “Roam would feel better knowing that Violet was protecting Eva… and not a stranger. Logan, help me find the appropriate clothes for her.”
Violet smiled, wrapping her available arm around Logan. “It’s okay. I saw the women there. I got this.”
Chapter Nine
“What exactly am I?”
“You are a wood nymph.” The make-up artist answered without stopping, evenly dragging the paintbrush in her hand through the olive green paint on her pallet.
Shifting onl
y my eyes to the gown hanging from the wardrobe, I followed the lines of the tight, dark brown leather pants and matching corset beneath a theatrical gown coat. The long, thick fabric covered my shoulders and arms, spreading out at my lower back into an elaborate train. Embroidery, intricately fine, wove emeralds and diamonds into dark green, gold, and black threads.
“And his majesty?”
“Matching colors. He is a lion.”
Of course.
Will and I had spent the two weeks that Troy was gone preparing for the Masque. The sun was the theme, and nature became the premise for many of the costumes selected by the guests. Will sent Logan away to complete some kind of task, and the day he left I bordered on a nervous breakdown.
“Roam,” he tried to peel himself away from me, but I clung to him, breaking into tears.
“Please come back to me,” I cried, gripping his face in my hands. He squeezed me in his grasp, nodding into my neck.
“Nothing can stop me from coming back to you. Nothing,” he promised.
“I’ll be here with her,” Will added softly, clasping Logan’s shoulder. “I won’t let her be harmed,” he assured us both.
Will only explained that Logan’s part was imperative to his plan, and I had to be patient. If I knew too much, I would be a danger to myself near Troy.
I confined myself to my chair by the window and cut five times that day, each time swearing it would be the last.
Will arrived that evening at my door, insisting I come down to dinner. He presented me with a thick, leather bound book filled with lists of songs. “Now, the music is broken down into decades. My father understands that you would like to hear music from your world. Do you have a particular decade in mind?”
I stared blankly at the pages, closing the book. “Mostly nineties. Some fifties and sixties. And no covers; only the originals.”
He grinned, nodding. “Alright then, that was easy enough. Now, food.”
Each day, Will guarded the fencing arena while I practiced the Kenauri-Rak for hours. With the sword in my hand, I remembered abilities from a life long past, smiling sometimes at my Matrix-like moves. Over and over I sliced at the air as the hot sun poured through the windows, imagining the effortless swing of the blade through Troy’s neck.
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