Time Raiders: The Avenger

by P. C. Cast

  They came out of the forest on the other side of the stream. Alex recognized the old man who had spoken to her earlier that day, as well as several others who had hung around during the march here, but who had stayed pretty much on the periphery of things.

  There are things we wish to discuss with you, Soul Speaker, said the old man from across the stream.

  Yes, we have questions, said a woman who looked way too young and healthy to be dead. But Alex knew the spirits could appear in any form they’d had during their lives. It wasn’t as if they were frozen at the time of their death and stuck with appearance, a fact Alex had been thankful for ever since she’d seen her first dead person.

  We also have things to tell you, said another man. He was wearing a tunic made of cloth dyed so strong a shade of red that, even semitransparent, it blazed with color.

  Alex leaned her head against the tree, closed her eyes and sighed heavily. She’d known that the way the ghosts had backed off earlier was too good to last. Why couldn’t they leave her alone for real? She was exhausted. Her job here was already breaking her heart. She just didn’t feel up to dealing with whatever it was the dead people wanted, along with everything else.

  “I really want you all to go away and leave me in peace,” Alex muttered, more to herself than to them.

  A sizzle of energy flowed from the ancient tree at her back and shivered through her. Alex’s eyes shot open in time to see little wisps of energy—glowing waves of fog—lap from her tree out into the forest. As they reached the ghosts, they engulfed them, carrying the spirits away into the night.

  “Holy shit!” Alex said. “How in the hell did I do that?”

  “You tapped into the power of this old one, of course.” Caradoc stepped out of the shadows. “Where is this place you came from that doesn’t teach priestesses about the sacred might of the forest?”

  Chapter 10

  “A re you spying on me?” Alex asked, neatly sidestepping Caradoc’s question.

  “Actually, that is a better question to ask of you.”

  “Me?”

  “Aye, you. Do you spy on Boudica for Rome?”

  “You’ve got to be kidding! I’m no more a spy for Rome than you are. And anyway, that makes no sense.”

  “Why not? We are at war with Rome.”

  “Yeah, but they don’t know that. The Romans believe a few crazy barbarians have been riled up by an even crazier woman. They don’t see Boudica’s people as an army, so don’t see the coming war as anything more than an inconvenience. Heddwyn made that clear from his spying on Londinium.” Alex knew all that was true from her historical briefing. One of the key reasons Boudica was as successful as she was for so long could be attributed to the fact that the Romans underestimated her, because she was a woman.

  “What you say is true, at least in as much as you’ll say. Though you still haven’t explained where it is you come from.”

  “How about you and I call a truce and make a pact. I’ll promise not to lie to you—ever. But you’ll have to understand that, if I can only tell you the truth, there will be some things I cannot tell you,” Alex said.

  Caradoc considered, studying her with his unusual amber eyes. Finally, he gave a brief nod. “Agreed. There will be no lies between us.”

  “Agreed.” Automatically, Alex put out her hand so that they could shake on it. Caradoc hesitated before he touched her, and when he did so his grip wasn’t a businesslike handshake. The druid grasped her forearm in the ancient way oaths were sealed, pressing wrists together, pulse point to pulse point, heartbeat to heartbeat, skin to skin.

  His touch affected her instantly, but not with a silly Romance Landia zap of instant lust. Caradoc’s skin against hers felt familiar—warm, strong, real. He was yet another aspect of this land, this time, that seemed so right.

  “I would like it if we could be friends,” Alex heard herself saying.

  “Mystery doesn’t make a good foundation for friendship,” he said, yet his words weren’t harsh, but almost quizzical, and he didn’t release his grip on her arm.

  “Truth does make a good foundation, though, and I’ve promised to always tell you the truth,” she countered.

  “When you can,” he said.

  “When I can,” she agreed.

  Reluctantly, Caradoc let go of her arm. “So can you tell me if it’s true that you really have not been trained to tap into the ancient power of the forest?”

  Alex smiled. “That’s an easy one to answer. No, I have no clue what you mean by the ancient power of the forest, or how to use it.”

  Caradoc cocked his head to the side and smiled back at her. “You have an odd way of speaking.”

  Alex felt like the rabbit she’d let loose from her cloak. Carswell had told her the chip in her head would translate for her, both what she said and what she heard. Well, it seemed to be working fine as the words came to her. Sure, the Celts had accents, some more than others, but she definitely understood what they were saying. So she’d assumed that she could just use her normal vocabulary in speaking to them. Apparently not.

  Caradoc chuckled. “Do not look so shocked. I meant no offense and I wasn’t trying to pry for answers you don’t feel you can give me.”

  He looked nonchalant, but Alex saw in his eyes that there was more behind what he was saying. He had been trying to pry, she realized.

  “Sorry,” she said smoothly. “I’ll try to keep my odd ways to a minimum.”

  He waved his hand. “No need. I find you intriguing.”

  Alex wasn’t sure if he meant intriguing like a good book or intriguing like a car wreck, but decided not to ask. Instead, she barreled on. “So, can you tell me about this ancient power you’re talking about, or is it supposed to be a big secret?”

  Caradoc sobered instantly. “The spirits in the forest are not to be spoken of lightly, Blonwen. As a priestess of Andraste, you should know that much.”

  “But I don’t,” she stated honestly. “I didn’t mean to offend you, or the forest.” She glanced around nervously before continuing. “And I do want to learn about these things. If you can teach me.”

  He ran his hand through his thick hair and Alex saw that the leather tie he used to keep the tawny mass back out of his way all day had come loose. She’d never been with a man who had long hair before and was surprised at how sensual it was. She wanted to touch it, to run her fingers through it and use it to pull his face down to hers….

  “Blonwen?”

  “I’m sorry.” Alex jumped. What the hell was wrong with her? Now was not the time to have sexy daydreams about this guy. “My mind was elsewhere,” she said quickly. “What were you saying?”

  He gave her a look that was much too knowing. What had her expression been like when she was thinking about kissing him? But he only said, “I said as a druid I am well versed in the spirits of the forest and the magic they hold, and I have taught young druids often….” Here his words faltered, and he stared off into the dark woods.

  Alex realized what he must be thinking—that those young druids he’d taught were now probably all dead, thanks to the barbarism of Suetonius. Slowly, she reached out to him and rested her hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry about your home. It must have been awful.”

  “They sacrificed themselves for me.” Caradoc’s voice was strained, his eyes haunted.

  “Who?” Alex prompted gently, when it was obvious he wasn’t going to say anything more.

  “Everyone. The Romans took us utterly by surprise. The elders were sleeping. Some of the young priestesses and druids were finishing a fertility ritual…” His lips twitched at that memory, but his eyes remained sad. “I was restless. I could not sleep, nor could I join in the fertility games. I should have known then that my unease was a warning. Like a fool, I discounted it and went to the cave of springs, where I was soaking, and trying to still my mind.” He shook his head and laughed humorlessly in bitter self-mockery. “That is where my brothers found me. I hadn’t heard the attack. I
t was because of all of them, my brother druids and sister priestesses, that I escaped, to make it to Boudica. They used their bodies as a barrier to keep the Romans from capturing me.”

  “But Boudica needed to be warned,” Alex said.

  Caradoc rounded on her. “Do you truly not know who I am and why the others died to assure I remained free?”

  “No,” Alex said simply. “All I know about you is that your voice called to me in my dreams.”

  The anger that had flashed in his eyes died, and Caradoc sighed. “Boudica told you I am her kinsman. What she did not also say, because everyone here already knows it, is that I am her closest kinsman, the son of her mother’s sister. Should Boudica fall in battle, the torque of kingship would pass to me.”

  Alex’s eyes widened. “I had no idea.”

  “What did I say to you in your dreams?” Caradoc asked abruptly.

  “You called to me from somewhere in a forest that was a lot like this one. You asked me to come back to you. You said you needed me and were waiting for me.” Alex realized that she was still touching Caradoc’s arm, and nervously took her hand away. But as she did he caught her wrist.

  “What else did I say to you?” he asked.

  “You told me I had to have the courage to come back to you.” She looked down at where he was holding her wrist, and remembered the rest of the dream. “I couldn’t see you. Well, I got a strange image of your woad, though I couldn’t see the rest of you. But you did grab me.”

  His brows went up. “I grabbed you?”

  She nodded, feeling a little breathless. “Yes, like you’re doing now.”

  Caradoc eased his grip on her wrist, and as he stared into her eyes, his thumb began to caress her skin, tracing a warm circle over where her blood beat close to the surface.

  “What else did I do?” he asked.

  “Nothing.” Her voice was almost a whisper. He was so close to her that Alex could feel the heat of his body. “Fog closed in and you were gone.”

  “In my dream I did not touch you, though I felt drawn to you and was single-minded in believing that you had to be with me,” he murmured. “It was a shock to see you today, here in the flesh. I almost thought I was dreaming again.” His expression changed, turning sad. “I wished I had been dreaming, so that the last several days would not truly have happened.”

  Alex reached out and gently brushed the hair back from the gash that marred his forehead. The wound was days old, scabbed over and already healing. “How long did it take you to get here?”

  “Four days. I was too dizzy to travel the first day.”

  “Does it still hurt?”

  His lips tilted up. “No, my head is hard.”

  He looked so young, with his half smile and the healing cut on his head, that Alex impulsively cupped the side of his face with her hand. “I’m glad your head is hard,” she said softly.

  Caradoc didn’t say anything, but slowly, as if he was giving her plenty of time to step away, he bent closer. Sliding his hand from her wrist up her arm, he followed the line of her shoulder and neck until he buried his hand in her hair. Then, gently, he pulled her face forward and pressed his lips to hers.

  The kiss began as a question, soft and hesitant and undemanding, and Alex was shocked at her immediate reaction to him. She opened herself to Caradoc, moving forward so that she could step into his arms. Her own arms went around his shoulders, her chest pressed to his, as she explored his mouth. He tasted like the sweet mead they’d had with dinner. The softness of his lips was a wonderful contrast to the hardness of his body. He moaned when she pressed even closer against him, and one of his hands found the roundness of her buttocks so he could keep her there firmly, against his heat, while his kiss went from a question to a deep and intriguing demand for more.

  Alex lost herself in the taste and feel of him. It had been so long since she’d felt the heat and hardness of a man! And this man was extraordinary. He was no metrosexual, briefcase-carrying office worker. Nor was he a cowboy wannbe who hadn’t ridden a horse in months, but drove a truck big enough to haul around a small herd. Caradoc was an ancient warrior, a man who used his body as a weapon. He was also a druid—and Alex guessed that meant he could also use his mind as a weapon. He was intriguing and sexy and more than a little bit dangerous. And he accepted that she was a Soul Speaker!

  Alex wanted him with an intensity that was totally alien to her.

  Her tongue teased his, coaxing it into the warmth of her mouth, and she sucked lightly, causing Caradoc to moan again. She felt his shaft pulse against her, and she moved her hips, positioning that hot hardness against the wet center of her. His hand on her buttocks convulsed as she rubbed herself against him. Her body was on fire. Waves of sensation pulsed through her, and all Alex could think was that she wanted this man inside her—deep and long and hard.

  A twig snapped behind Caradoc, a sound so sharp that for an instant Alex thought it was a gunshot. He reacted instantly, whirling around and pushing her behind him, blocking her from view with his body. Not two feet from them a doe stepped around some low bushes. Intent on getting to the stream, the deer didn’t see Caradoc and Alex until she was almost on top of them, and then she froze, wide-eyed, before leaping over the water and disappearing into the darkness of the forest.

  Alex thought her heart would pound out of her chest, and she dropped her forehead onto Caradoc’s back, laughing breathlessly. “Don’t say that we scared her more than she scared us, because in my case there is no way that’s true.”

  He turned and looped his arms loosely over her shoulders. “If I say nothing, is there a chance you will believe that small doe didn’t almost cause my heart to stop beating?”

  She grinned at him and pressed her hand over his heart, which pulsed strong and fast against her palm. “It’s still beating.”

  “Aye,” he murmured. “That is an easy truth to tell.”

  Alex lifted her face, anxious to feel his lips against hers again, then realized he wasn’t bending to meet her. She hesitated, feeling both confusion and embarrassment.

  “Blonwen, tell me that you mean no harm to Boudica. That being here with me isn’t a plan to get close to the queen and then destroy her.”

  Alex stepped back abruptly, as if he’d just slapped her. Hadn’t he felt anything when they’d kissed? While she’d been completely absorbed in him, had he been coolly calculating the chances that she was still a spy?

  Her voice shook as she answered, but she held his gaze steadily. “I already told you the truth about that. If you don’t believe me—if you can’t trust me—there’s nothing more I have to say to you. Good night, Caradoc.”

  Alex turned and, feeling utterly humiliated, walked quickly to Boudica’s tent without once glancing back at the silent druid.

  Chapter 11

  T hanks to the long day on horseback, Alex’s exhausted body trumped her restless mind, and she fell asleep more quickly than she would have ever imagined possible. This time she did dream.

  She was in a cave. Alex drew a deep breath, recognizing the metallic scent of a mineral spring.

  For a second she was disoriented, wondering where her sleeping mind had taken her. And then she understood, and with the understanding came a flush of irritation. This was the cave Caradoc had described—where he’d been when the Romans had attacked the Isle of Mona. He’d somehow brought her here. Setting her shoulders, Alex looked around her, searching for the exit, all the while ordering herself: Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!

  She took the first passageway from the little candlelit room that she noticed. The arched doorway was wide. It must lead out of the damn place. Alex followed the winding tunnel to her left and noticed almost immediately that the path was leading down and not up toward an exit. She stopped, and was about to turn around and retrace her steps when she heard the sobs. Ahead, somewhere farther into the cave, someone was crying bitterly.

  Turn around—get out of here—wake up! Alex’s mind screamed at her, but her leg
s carried her forward. Slowly but steadily she followed the sound of sobbing until she came to a place where another tunnel branched off to the right. She knew from the warm, aromatic fumes that wafted towards her that this chamber held the main mineral spring. It was also, clearly, where the sobs originated.

  Quietly, Alex stepped through the stone archway, but stayed in the shadows beside it, gazing around the large inner room. Clearly, the water in the spring was hot, judging by the fog rising in the cool air and condensing on the rough stone walls. The sounds were coming from the side of the pool, and Alex peered through the mist.

  Caradoc was sitting on the bench. His elbows rested on his thighs and his face was in his hands. He was sobbing.

  He didn’t bring me here, Alex realized. He wouldn’t want me to see him like this. She began to back slowly away, but Caradoc raised his head, looked across the room and met her eyes.

  “I keep coming back here.” His face was ravaged with grief, his eyes haunted with memories.

  “I didn’t intrude on purpose,” Alex said.

  “I know that. What’s happening in our dreams is out of our control. I didn’t purposely call you, and I don’t believe you sought me out.”

  “But somehow, here we are,” she stated. “If this is real.”

  “Indeed.” Caradoc wiped his hand across his eyes and leaned back against the damp wall of the cave. Alex thought he looked young and sad and very vulnerable. When he started to speak, his voice was strained, as if the tears he’d been shedding had seared his throat. “Whether it is real, or mist and dreams, there is something I need to say to you. Before the Romans attacked I was so sure of myself—so certain of my place in the world and of the world itself. Now all I know is confusion and regret and anger. I took some of that out on you today.”

  Alex felt surprised by his admission, but shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m not a child. I know better than to step into the den of the big bad wolf.”