by Nora Roberts
The way his eyes would warm with laughter, or heat with passion when… His eyes. What color were his eyes? Slightly dizzy, she stopped the car, pressed her fingers to her temples.
She couldn't bring his face into her mind, not clearly. How could she not know the color of his eyes? Why couldn't she quite remember the sound of his voice?
She shoved out of the car, stumbled a few steps. What was happening to her? She'd been driving from Dublin on the way to her bed-and-breakfast. A wrong turn. A storm. But what…
Without thinking, she took another step back down the now overgrown path. And her mind snapped clear as crystal.
Her breath was coming short. She turned, stared at the car, the clear path in front of it, the impassable ground behind.
"Flynn's eyes are green," she said. His face came clearly into her mind now. And when she took a cautious step forward, her memory of him went hazy.
This time she stepped back quickly, well back. "You wanted me to forget you. Why? Why if none of it mattered did you care if I remembered you or not? Why would it matter if I broke my heart over you?"
A little shaky, she sat down on the ground. And she began to do what she'd always done best. Be logical.
Flynn sat as he had on the night it had begun. In the chair in front of the fire in the tower. He'd watched in the flames until Kayleen had gotten into her car. After that, he hadn't been able to bear it, so he had hazed the vision with smoke.
He'd lost track of the time that he'd sat there now, chained by his own grief. He knew the day was passing. The slant of sunlight through the window had shortened and was dimming.
She would be beyond now, and would have forgotten him. That was for the best. There would be some confusion, of course. A loss of time never fully explained. But she would put that behind her as well.
In a year or two, or twenty, he might look into the fire again, and see how she was. But he would never open his mind to her in dreams, for that would be more torment than he could ever possibly bear.
She would be changed a little by what had passed between them. More open to possibilities, to the magic of life. He lifted the strings of pearls, watched them glow in the light of the dying fire. At least that was a gift she hadn't been able to hurl at his feet.
With the pearls wrapped around his fingers, he lowered his face into his hands. He willed the time to come when pain could strike only his mind, when every sense wasn't tuned so sharply that he could smell her even now. That soft scent that whispered in the air.
"Bring on the bloody night," he muttered and threw his head back.
Then he was stumbling to his feet, staring. She stood not three feet away. Her hair was tangled, her clothes torn. Scratches scored her hands and face.
"What trick is this?"
"I want my boon. I want what you promised me."
"What have you done?" His knees unlocked and he lunged toward her, grabbing her hard by the arms. "How are you hurt? Look at you. Your hands are all torn and bleeding."
"You put briars in my way." She gave him a shove, and such was his shock that she knocked him back two full steps. "You bastard. It took hours to get through them."
"Get through." His head snapped back, as if she'd slapped him. "You have to go. Go! Now! What's the time?" He was pushing her out of the room, and when that wasn't quick enough he began to drag her.
"I'm not going. Not until you grant my boon."
"You damn well are." Terrified, he tossed her over his shoulder and began to run. As she struggled and cursed him, he began to fly.
The night was closing in. Time that had dripped began to flood. He went as deep into the forest as he dared. The edges of his prison seemed to hiss around him.
"There." Fear for her slicked his skin. "Your car's just up ahead. Get in it and go."
"Why? So I can drive a little farther and forget all this? Forget you? You'd have stolen that from me."
"I've no time to argue with you." He grabbed her shoulders and shook. "There is no time. If you stay past the last stroke of twelve, you're trapped here. A hundred years will pass before you can walk away again."
"Why do you care? It's a big house. A big forest. I won't get in your way."
"You don't understand. Go. This place is mine, and I don't want you here."
"You're trembling, Flynn. What frightens you?"
"I'm not frightened, I'm angry. You've abused my hospitality. You're trespassing."
"Call the cops," she suggested. "Call your Keepers. Or… why don't you just flick me out, the way you flick things in? But you can't, can you?"
"If I could, you'd be gone already." He yanked her a few steps toward the car, then swore when the ground in front of his boots began to spark and smoke. That was the edge of his prison.
"Big, powerful magician, but you can't get rid of me that way. You couldn't bring me here, and you can't send me away. Not with magic, because I have heart and soul. I have will. So you tried to drive me away with careless words. Cruel, careless words. You didn't think I'd see through them, did you? Didn't think I'd figure it all out. You forgot who you were dealing with."
"Kayleen." He took her hands now, squeezing desperately. "Do this thing I ask now, won't you?"
"A diversion," she said. "That's a crock. You love me."
"Of course I love you." He shook her harder, shouted so his voice boomed through the forest. "That's the bloody point. And if you care for me, you'll do what I tell you, and do it now."
"You love me." Her breath came out on a sob as she flung herself against him. "I knew it. Oh, I'm so angry with you. I'm so in love with you."
His arms ached to grip, to hold. He made himself push her away, hold her at arm's length. "Listen to me, Kayleen. Clear the stars out of your eyes and be sensible. I've no right to love you. Be quiet!" he snapped when she started to speak. "You remember what I told you about this place, about me. Do you feel my hands on you, Kayleen?"
"Yes. They're trembling."
"After midnight, one breath after, you won't feel them, or anything else. No touch, no contact. You'll pick a flower, but you won't feel the stem or the petals. Its perfume will be lost to you. Can you feel your own heart beat? Beating inside you? You won't. It's worse than death to be and yet not be. Day by day into the decades with nothing of substance. Nothing but what's in your mind. And, a ghra, you haven't even the magic to amuse yourself into some sanity. You'll be lost, little more than a ghost."
"I know." Like the dream, she thought. A mist within the mist.
"There's more. There can be no children. During the dreaming nothing can grow in you. Nothing can change in or of you. You will have no family, no comfort. No choice. This is my banishment. It will not be yours."
Though her nerves began to dance, her gaze stayed steady. "I'll have my boon."
He swore, threw up his hands. "Woman, you try me to the bone. All right, then. What will you?"
"To stay."
"No."
"You took a vow."
"And so I break it. What more can be done to me?"
"I'll stay anyway. You can't stop me."
But he could. There was one way to save her in the time left him. One final way. "You defeat me." He drew her close, rocked her against him. "You've a head like a rock. I love you, Kayleen. I loved you in dreams, when dreams were all there was for me. I love you now. It killed me to hurt you."
"I want to be with you, no matter how short the time or how long. We'll dream together until we can live together again."
He took her mouth. A deep kiss, a drugging one that spun in her head, blurred her vision. Joy settled sweetly in her heart.
When she sighed, he stepped back from her. "Five hundred years," he said quietly. "And only once have I loved. Only you."
"Flynn." She started to move toward him, but the air between them had hardened into a shield. "What is this?" She lifted her fisted hands to it, pushed. "What have you done?"
"There's a choice, and it's mine to make. I will not damn you
to my prison, Kayleen. No power can sway me."
"I won't go." She pounded a fist on the shield.
"I know it, and understand it as well. I should have before. I would never leave you, either. Manim astheee hu." My soul, he said in the language of his birth, is within you. "You brought me a gift, Kayleen. Love freely given."
The wind began to kick. From somewhere a sound boomed, slow and dull, like a clock striking the hour.
"I give you a gift in return. Life to be lived. I have a choice, one offered me long ago. A hundred years times five."
"What are you… No!" She flung herself at the shield, beat against it. "No, you can't. You'll die. You're five hundred years old. You can't live without your powers."
"It's my right. My choice."
"Don't do this." How many strikes of the clock had there been? "I'll go. I swear it."
"There's no time now. My powers," he said, lifting his arms. "My blood, my life. For hers." Lightning spewed from the sky, struck like a comet between them. "For foolishness, for pride, for arrogance I abjure my gifts, my skills, my birthright. And for love I cast them away."
His eyes met Kayleen's through the wind and light as the clock struck. "For love, I offer them freely. Let her forget, for there is no need for her to suffer."
He fisted his hands, crossed his arms over his chest. Braced as the world went mad around him. "Now."
And the clock struck twelve.
The world went still. Overhead the skies broke clear so the stars poured free. The trees stood as if carved out of the dark. The only sound was of Kayleen's weeping.
"Do I dream?" Flynn whispered. Cautious, he held out a hand, opened and closed his fist. Felt the movement of his own fingers.
The air began to stir, a soft, sweet breeze. An owl called.
"I am." Flynn dropped to his knees beside Kayleen, with wonder in his eyes. "I am."
"Flynn!" She threw her arms around him, dragging him close, breathing him in. "You're real. You're alive."
"I am restored." He dropped his head on her shoulder. "I am freed. The Keepers."