The back tire brushed against the stone as the bike cleared the wall.
She landed hard. The bike wobbled and leaned to one side, nearly wiping out but it remained upright with her still on it. She knew staying upright wasn’t her skill but dumb luck. She crossed the stream and continued on, hoping her luck held out. She could see the smoke and flames above the trees. She turned the bend, gave the engine more gas and skidded into the mill yard. Men were using anything to fight the fire. She set the bike down and threw off the helmet. She rushed from man to man searching for Arik.
He was nowhere to be found.
A shiver of panic rushed through her. Where is he? “Major,” she shouted and grabbed the man’s arm. “Have you seen Arik?”
“Frank said he was by the waterwheel.” He turned to a knot of men. “Jaxon, get some men. The wheel is turning. Get to the flume on top of the wheel and get a bucket line started.” The major went with the men.
She ran to the mill door and with care put her palms on it. It wasn’t warm. The fire wasn’t here yet. She opened the door. With the top of her nightshirt covering her mouth she burst inside, but the smoke was too thick for her to get far. She came out coughing. Flashes of pictures bombarded her. She ignored them. Her head ached but she wouldn’t acknowledge it.
She was determined to find him. She ran to the side of the mill, thinking to slip in through the window. Great puffs of steam filled the area. She couldn’t see the window. Tracks of tears streamed down her sooty cheeks. She closed her eyes and used all her energy to concentrate on him. “My heart,” she repeated under her breath over and over. She opened her eyes.
Steam gathered on the millrace coming from the large wheel. A thick vapor billowed and grew as more water hit the fire. The water coming down the millrace grew from a trickle to a fast-moving stream racing back to the river. She tilted her head and took in how the fire backlit the steam and gave it a flickering, soft orange otherworldly glow.
“My heart,” she murmured. Swirls of steam roiled in the center. Slowly the silhouette of a man emerged.
“Arik,” she muttered. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and felt the corners of her mouth tug in a relieved smile. His stride was strong and determined.
She ran to him.
“Major,” she yelled over her shoulder. The man was all at once at their side. Together they eased the man off Arik’s shoulder and got him to the ground. The major was already evaluating his soldier.
“What happened?” It didn’t take much to see Arik was in better shape than the man he carried.
Arik, at least, was walking.
She looked at the major. “Who is it?”
“It’s Bill,” Arik said as he faced the major. “How is he?”
“He’s been beaten pretty bad and his hands are burned.” The major gave them a haunted expression. Arik put his hand on the major’s shoulder.
“I’ll take care of him.” Rebeka examined Bill’s pale skin and rapid breathing. Afraid he was going into shock, she elevated his feet and made him as comfortable as she could. More students arrived in a caravan with buckets and pails, leaving them strewn on the ground for anyone who needed them.
“You and the major go and help the others. I’ll stay with Bill,” Rebeka said.
“Where is the worst of it?” Arik asked the major.
“On the other side,” was all he said. He gave Rebeka a curt nod and was gone.
“Rebeka.” Cora ran to her. “We’ve called for help. They said there was a serious fire at the newspaper office in Avebury and would be here as soon as possible.”
“Do you have a first-aid kit?” Rebeka asked.
“Yes, George keeps one in the car.” She rushed to the car and came back with the kit.
Rebeka rummaged through the contents and picked out what she needed. “Cora, fill one of those buckets with water.” Both of Bill’s hands were blistered, a mix of second- and third-degree burns. She made certain he wasn’t wearing any rings. “Bill, can you hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said through clenched teeth. She knew he was in pain and was frustrated she had limited resources to help him.
Cora returned. “Here’s the water.”
“Help me wrap his hands with the gauze. We must keep his fingers separated then I can bathe them in the water.” When they finished she poured cool water over the bandages to give him some relief.
“Can you spare some bandages?” Marle stood in front of them. “There are some men on the other side of the building that need help.”
“I’ll stay with Bill,” she said to Cora. “Go with Marle.” Cora took what she could and left to help the others.
Alone with Bill, Rebeka kept his bandages damp. There wasn’t much more she could do. She peered down the path. Where was the ambulance? Bill fidgeted. With her back against a tree she chanted to soothe him—or was it to soothe herself?
She wasn’t certain, but it didn’t matter. Bill quieted and that’s what counted.
The cadence of her chant marked time with her heartbeat that echoed in her ears. Light-headed, with a sense of weightlessness, she concentrated harder and dove deeper into her chant. Her father’s voice mixed with hers was both familiar and encouraging. She knew he wasn’t there but that didn’t matter. She embraced it and followed his lead.
The sounds of the disaster around her quieted until they were indistinct. She concentrated hard and continued to chant, going deeper than she had ever gone before.
Distorted pictures moved through her mind. She kept her focus on the chant. They stretched and faded. Children running in a field, a mother’s kiss, a father’s pride, a husband’s love.
The drone of the chant and rapt in concentration, took her to a place that swirled with darkness. Faster and faster she repeated the chant. Tighter and tighter her voice choked the darkness. She knew where she was. Skara Brae. Brighter and brighter the place became until in a burst of brilliance the darkness was gone. So was the vision of Skara Brae.
She was bombarded with an onslaught of memories and sensations as they came up from the depths of her mind.
She kept repeating the chant, not willing to lose what she’d fought so hard to gain.
As the sky lightened she saw that only small wisps of smoke remained. Now she watched the sun begin to peek over the hill, exposing the disaster. The stone walls of the first two floors were blackened and dripping with water. There was severe damage to the roof and walls of the third floor. She scooped the last of the water out of the bucket and sprinkled it on Bill’s bandages. The sluice doors had been blocked. The millrace was almost dry. She’d have to go to the stream for more.
She didn’t move. She wanted to go over the memories again. She wanted to see his smile, feel his touch and hear his voice. He wasn’t a dream. He found her as he’d promised. Her lips moved as she repeated the chant.
“How’s Bill?”
She glanced at Arik as he knelt next her. At last.
Exhausted, she let the sight of him wash over her.
He wasn’t a dream. She wanted to cry, laugh, scream—but most of all she wanted him to hold her. He had come for her.
She examined him like a hungry person searching for a meal. His face was sooty and his eyes were bright if a bit tired. His T-shirt was torn and wet. He smelled of smoke but—she took a deep breath—under it all he smelled like Arik.
Her Arik.
“He seems to be resting comfortably, dozing on and off. I’ve been keeping the dressing wet with cool water. His breathing seems even and I don’t think he has a fever.” She let out a relieved sigh. She’d been waiting for hours to speak to him and now she didn’t want to speak at all.
He was here with her. She was going to burst into a thousand pieces.
He signaled to a redheaded attendant who stood close by. “When the emergency team arrived they examined his hands and left you to tend to him,” Arik said. The attendant removed Bill to the triage area.
Her brow wrinkl
ed in confusion. So she had gone that deep. “It’s amazing what you revert to.”
“What do you mean?” He took a seat next her, his eyes closed, his back against the tree.
“My father used to sing a healing chant to me when I was sick. It calmed me so I chanted it to Bill. When I did it calmed him, too. When I stopped he got restless. So I went deeper and kept on chanting.” She glanced at Arik from the corner of her eye. Her heart was pounding so loud she was surprised he didn’t hear it. Her eyes shifted past him to the damaged mill.
“I’m glad Alfred can’t see this.” She kept watch to record the moment he realized she’d remembered his miller’s name.
“Beka?” He turned and his warm breath brushed across her face, sending shivers across her back. She brushed his hair off his forehead.
“Yes?” She gazed into his eyes and hoped he saw she was there, all there.
“How—”
She couldn’t wait any longer. She covered his mouth with her lips, leaving her mouth burning as if on fire. Her emotions whirled and skidded.
He pulled away to look at her. There it was. The moment it registered with him. He captured her lips with fierce, hot possession. She burned hotter and hotter, hungering for him. His moan was her undoing. She was lost to an all-consuming rush of heat.
He held her tenderly while her body calmed. She was in his arms. That’s all that mattered.
“The chant. Of all the chants this one demands your full concentration. I wouldn’t fail Bill. The deeper I concentrated, the clearer my mind became.”
“You must be exhausted.” He drew her closer.
“I wanted to speak to you, to tell you. I was afraid if I slept…I wouldn’t remember.” She reveled in his warmth and wanted him closer. “I love you.” She stretched her neck and kissed him lightly. “At first I believed my dreams were just that, dreams, until I understood…you’re here. That’s when I refused to stop chanting even though Bill was asleep. If anything, I was more determined to keep it going. I needed to tell you I love you. I wanted to hold you and look at you one more time. Even if it was to say good-bye, I—”
“Shhh.” He kissed her forehead. “Rest. I’m here with you. I’ve come a long way to bring you home, so it’s not good-bye. It will never be that. If we have to, we’ll both sing the chant, every day. I have no intention of losing you again. Do you understand? I love you. I won’t let you go.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Arik.” With his arm around Rebeka, he turned to see George rushing toward them with something in his hand. “One of the students found this among the supplies.” A gasoline can, the letters FM stamped on the bottom, was in his hand. “Before you ask, we didn’t bring this here.” He held up the can and wiggled it. “We had no need for gasoline. I’m certain if we inventory the cans by the manor generator we’ll find one missing.”
Arik bit the inside of his cheek. “The mill room had a distinct odor. It wasn’t until I got Bill out that I recognized that the smell came from his clothes.” Yes, it was gasoline. There was no question that treachery was involved.
He held her close, not willing to let her go. He would’ve preferred to be alone with her, loving her, but now was not the time.
“I’ll take this to the fire chief. He’ll want to see it.” Arik nodded as George left to find the man. He glanced around the mill yard littered with the remnants of burned wood and roof tiles. Patches of grass still smoked. The door to the mill stood open as firemen came out with axes over their shoulders. All was in order here.
“I want to ask Bill some questions. He may be able to give us some information.” He and Rebeka picked their way through the debris and headed to the triage area.
They arrived at the emergency team’s station. Firefighters were loading their trucks. His bedraggled men were gathered around Cora, who was giving out coffee and water.
He passed among his men, spoke to each one, thanking them for their help and asking about their injuries. He laughed with some and comforted others. But with each conversation his anger grew until he was furious. He hadn’t seen this coming. He hadn’t protected them.
George and Cora met him and Rebeka by the stocky redheaded attendant who was bandaging the last causality. “If you’re trying to find Bill, he’s waiting by the ambulance. We took the bandages off his hands and expected to see severe third-degree burns.”
“You sound surprised.” Arik was confused. He knew what he had seen. Bill would be lucky to ever use his hand again.
“His hands are burned, but not that bad. They’re red and some areas are blistered. We downgraded the diagnosis to moderate second-degree burns.” He turned toward his last patient. “We’ll be taking you to the hospital as a precaution…”
The four of them left the medic and headed for the ambulance and found Bill. “You appear much better than you did the last time I saw you,” Arik said. Bill’s face brightened with a trace of a smile.
“How do you feel?” Rebeka asked.
“Lucky.” He held up two mittened hands. “I didn’t think I’d ever use my hands again. I’m glad I was wrong.”
“You have any idea how the fire started?” Arik squatted next to him. He needed to get answers while things were still fresh in Bill’s mind.
The other men gathered around them. Arik wasn’t surprised they wanted to listen. Everyone wanted to hear how the fire started.
“I headed to the mill after dinner to check that we had everything we needed for tomorrow. The plan was to lay the rest of the floor in the morning. Once we were done we were going to set the pit wheel and connect the mechanism. There were noises coming from the second floor. A day or two ago the noises turned out to be two of Dr. Tyler’s students, Marle and John, trying to find a private spot.” Bill shook his head and chuckled. “I must have scared them. I saw their bare backsides running into the woods—carrying their clothes. Tonight I heard voices. I suspected they were back. I decided to scare them good.
“I snuck up on them, jumped out and yelled. When they spun around I flashed my light in their eyes. I got a clear enough look to see it wasn’t Marle and John. It was two blokes I’d never seen before. That’s when I smelled the gasoline. One of them was still spraying it.” Arik caught a tight note of panic in Bill’s voice. “We fought and wound up on the ground level. I wanted to maneuver them away from the mill but when we got outside one of them got behind me and held my arms while the other one had a field day.” He stared at the ground, lines of concentration deepening along his brows. “All I could see were little ladders.” He picked up his head. “He had them tattooed up his arm.”
“Does that mean anything to you?” Arik asked Rebeka.
“No, not at all.” She turned to Bill. “How’d your hands get burned?”
“They must’ve heard something or someone coming. They dropped me and torched the mill. As soon as they left I tried to put out the fire.” Bill blew out a breath. “I knew it would take too long to get to the manor for help. The top floor was on fire.” The words rushed out of Bill like the water cascading down the flume. “I climbed up, pulled off my jacket and beat out the flames. I tried, I tried,” Bill rushed on, “to move the flume. It was the only thing I could think of to stop the fire.” Bill leaned forward and struggled to get up. All his men stood and listened.
“It was a good plan.” Arik helped him sit back. “You saved the mill.” The two men locked eyes. Arik knew that stare. It was the haunted expression of a man who’s been in battle and thinks he hasn’t done enough. “You saved the mill,” Arik repeated softly.
“I tugged on the flume,” Bill whispered, “but my hands hurt so much. I lost my balance. I grabbed on to the bricks and I found a niche for my feet and started to work my way down but my hands stopped working. The last thing I remember was falling into the pit.”
“It was a brave move, one not many would have made. You have my gratitude.” Arik scanned the sooty, scratched faces of the men around them. “You all have my gratitude.”
>
“Sir, I should be thanking you,” Bill said, a certain determination in his voice. “I stumbled into this. Frank told me you went into that inferno and carried me out.”
“As you would for me.” His response was low and even. The men around him nodded their agreement.
“We’re ready to take this man to hospital.” He turned to the attendant who spoke. Together they helped Bill onto a gurney.
“We’ll see you tomorrow,” Arik said. Jaxon came out from the crowd and stationed himself next to Bill.
“I’ll go with him.” Jaxon followed the gurney and jumped into the back of the ambulance.
With the fire out, the firefighters packed their gear and returned to their home base. The Fayne Manor men helped each other to their cars and headed toward the manor.
“How bad is the damage?” Arik glanced at the mill, the question directed at George. The man reeked of smoke. George’s bright white shirt was torn and black with soot. A lock of hair tumbled across his forehead and his eyes were red and irritated, all in contrast to his usually impeccable presence.
“The roof and all the wood on the upper level will have to be replaced. We were lucky the fire didn’t get to the bottom floors where we stored the gears. They weren’t touched. The waterwheel was damaged and we’ll have to bail out the pit.”
The major approached them and waited.
“Yes, Major?” Arik asked.
“Everyone is accounted for and has started back to the manor. I’ve put two men on watch here. I’ll have a report on the necessary repairs for you tomorrow.” The major saluted. Arik watched as the last of the men left the mill yard. There was a familiar spirit about the man who led his men and anticipated his needs—Marcus.
“Bill’s burns were much worse than what we just saw.” Arik returned his attention to George. The four of them started toward the waiting vehicles.
“I heard you chanting to him when I came by to see if you needed help.” Cora’s matter-of-fact expression softened and her voice trailed off into a whisper. She glanced at Rebeka. “You…you healed him.” They stopped at the edge of the yard.
Druid Knights 02: Knight of Rapture Page 22