Lucan

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Lucan Page 4

by Susan Kearney


  Cael peered at him, a stare that tried to pierce the soul. He held her gaze, a tad bit longer than he should have. “We need to get back to work.” Now, that was lame. But damned if he could think straight with her drilling him with that I-want-to-know-what-you’re-thinking look.

  She ignored his suggestion. Instead she stroked her throat, parting her tunic. He got an eyeful of her graceful neck and a flash of a metal choker with strangely familiar markings before her fingers blocked his view again.

  “When the universe formed,” she began, “there was darkness. Only darkness. Blackness from here to eternity. But then the Goddess seeded the universe with stars, bringing precious light and life.”

  “And what does that have to do with—”

  “Hush. I’m getting to that.” She shifted on the desk, her skirt rising to just below the knee, and as she slid off her shoe and rocked it on her toes, her calf tensed. The sight of her smooth, tanned legs made his mouth go dry and he swallowed hard.

  “Go on,” he urged.

  The sooner she finished the story, the sooner she would leave. And she most definitely had to give him some room.

  If he’d eaten recently, he would have suspected his food had been drugged, because every sense in his body had gone wacky. If he’d been alone, he might have sought release from the sexual tension and taken matters into his own hands. If he’d been on an uncivilized world, he might have thrown her over his shoulder and carried her straight to his bed.

  Lucan did none of those things, of course. But as Cael spoke, her words didn’t simply tell a story, they coaxed the blood in his veins to race double time. The seam in his pants had grown so tight he feared he might suffer a permanent indentation. And stranger still, he couldn’t have stood and walked away to save his life.

  “After the stars lit the heavens, the blackness faded. Worlds warmed, life grew. Animals and people evolved. But the blackness never lost to the light. The blackness only retreated. On Pendragon, a woman named Jede claimed to honor the Goddess, but in truth, in the search for immortality, she practiced the dark ways. To teach Jede a lesson, the Goddess sent her two gifts.”

  “Gifts are punishment?” He frowned.

  “The first gift was eternal life. All Jede had to do to live forever was to obey the Goddess. The Goddess told her never to open the second gift.”

  “But she did?” Lucan had heard similar legends in many cultures. Strange how often that happened. Earth had the story of Pandora’s box. Pendragon had the Book of Jede.

  “Jede lived long enough to bury her husband, her children, and her grandchildren. She remarried, had another family, and buried them, too. After many thousands of years, she had wealth, comfort, all the things she’d always believed were so important, but she still wasn’t happy. She grew bored, lonely. She decided the Goddess hadn’t given her a gift at all, but had cursed her. The pain of outliving those she loved ate away at her soul. Believing death would end her pain, she opened the second gift, assuming death would be the punishment for disobeying the Goddess.”

  “What was inside? Did she lose her immortality?”

  “A Goddess never takes back her gifts. She kept her promise of immortality, but she wasn’t cruel. Inside the box was a spell that turned Jede into a dragonshaper.”

  “A dragonshaper?” He frowned again. “I don’t understand.”

  “According to the legend, as a dragon Jede wouldn’t suffer the loss of those she loved. Because as a dragonshaper she’d never be allowed the kind of love and family she’d enjoyed as a woman.”

  “Why did you tell me this story?”

  “I believe that like Jede the dragon, who got her wish, we will eventually get ours and break through the shielding. I just fear that, like Jede, when we get what we thought we wanted—”

  “We won’t like what we find?”

  “Now you understand.”

  He supposed he did. Yet her fairy tale would not deter him. He’d come too far to back off because of a children’s story.

  She angled her head, and her collar parted, revealing the choker necklace he’d glimpsed earlier. The spectacular gems in a multitude of sparkling colors had to be worth a fortune. But it wasn’t the stones or their value that made him suck in his breath.

  The stones were embedded in metal.

  And holy hell. The metal was engraved with an Anglo-Saxon alphabet, runes.

  Lucan stared at the necklace, his mouth gaping. He couldn’t be certain from a glance, but it looked as if someone had inscribed other symbols beneath the runes, symbols that reminded him of the ones he’d seen on the star map, as well as on Avalon’s exterior wall. It was as if he was looking at two languages. Runes from Earth—which meant he’d be able to decipher them—and the glyphs from Pendragon.

  Please… God. Let Cael’s necklace be the key he needed to read the code. Frantic, he reached for a piece of paper and pen. “Don’t move, Cael. Please let me draw—”

  “Drawing my likeness is not permitted.”

  He sketched with fierce, swift strokes. “I’m not drawing you. Just the symbols on your necklace.”

  She reached up to her neck. “I don’t understand.”

  “Please, don’t talk. Don’t move.” Lucan sketched what he saw. But with every line, every rune, his excitement mounted. He stared at her necklace, then the paper on his desk, making sure he’d made no mistakes, and then he darkened the runes—making the glyphs stand out in stark relief. “Where did you get that necklace?”

  “It’s ancient and has been passed down from High Priestess to High Priestess for centuries.” Cael shot an odd look at him. “Are you reading those symbols?”

  “Give me a minute.” Ignoring the runes, he stared at the glyphs, alien glyphs that were so close to the ones on Avalon’s walls his heart battered his ribs with agitation.

  Picking up the paper, he sprinted to the port that looked out on Avalon. He held up the paper, placing it against the glass so that it appeared next to the glyphs on the obelisk. “They match. Exactly. They match.”

  Cael peered over his shoulder. “I don’t understand.”

  Lucan shook the paper and grinned. “There are two languages on your necklace. When I removed one, it left me with the other, glyphs, which are exactly the same symbols that are inscribed on Avalon’s walls.”

  “Can you translate them?”

  Damned if Cael’s necklace hadn’t turned out to be his Rosetta stone. “Now that I’ve separated the two languages, I can.”

  The team of scientists, drawn to the port by the excitement in Lucan and Cael’s voices, surrounded them and stared at the drawings Lucan had made. “What does it say?”

  “Tell us,” Quentin demanded.

  “Please do,” Shaw agreed.

  Rion slapped a desk, and, as usual, his action commanded everyone’s attention. “Settle down, people. Let the man think.”

  Lucan waited until the team quieted, then studied the runes. “Drinking from Avalon’s cup is a shield against death.”

  Holy hell.

  “You did it.” Cael’s eyes brightened.

  Rion shot him a thumbs-up. Quentin gave him a bear hug. Shaw embraced him. Other scientists clapped him on the back, their faces lit with enthusiasm.

  “Look!” Rion’s shout echoed through the lab. “The shield’s morphing.”

  Lucan turned to see. The shimmering sparkles vanished. The shield was down.

  Gone.

  Cheers again broke out around the lab, and Cael’s eyes teared with happiness.

  “What about the nearby buildings?” Shaw asked. “Any sign of a cave-in?”

  One of the geologists checked his instruments. “The topography’s stable.”

  The team breathed a collective sigh of relief. The shield was down. And the city was safe.

  The Priestess of Avalon is from another realm where the sun shines differently. But the magic of Avalon never changes.

  —THE LADY OF THE LAKE

  3

  Cael st
ared hard at Avalon, searching for a remnant of one tiny sparkle, but the shield had truly disappeared. As Avalon’s High Priestess, she could not show uncertainty or dread. Or fear. Straining under the burden of her position, she called on inner strength to appear serene and joyous. And, indeed, a part of her was full of joy and hope.

  If the Holy Grail was inside, as the glyphs Lucan had translated certainly implied, it could cure thousands of her people, including her nephew, whose condition was worsening by the day. Just yesterday she’d spoken to Jaylon, and he’d sounded so weak. He’d made her promise to visit soon and to bring the Grail. She prayed to the Goddess that she could keep both promises.

  Outside the window, Avalon dominated the view, a dark, massive stone building of mystery. The momentous occasion had upset her equilibrium and had her mind whirling, her nerves rattled. For so long she’d yearned for the healing powers of the Grail. So why were her feet rooted to the floor, reluctant to move? She should have been elated.

  Maybe it was natural to worry. As long as Avalon’s shield had stood, Cael could hope that someday they might find a way inside. Someday they might find the Grail.

  Someday had turned into today.

  And now she feared Avalon would be empty, that the Grail would not be inside, that finding the holy cup would prove as impossible as taming the wind, and her dreams would end. Then she’d have to go to back to the city of Feridon, where Jaylon was dying, and tell her nephew she’d failed. That not only couldn’t her healing skills cure him, but that she hadn’t found the Grail. Then he’d live out his last few weeks without hope.

  She stroked the sacred choker she wore to conceal the dark purple scales that twined around her neck. At her touch, those marks, the ultimate symbol of what she was, fluttered as if asking for release.

  Not now.

  The seemingly magical disintegration of the shield had the team buzzing, consulting their instruments and speaking quietly among themselves. From across the room, Cael could see that Lucan looked baffled, mystified, excited.

  He was an intriguing mix of intellect and physicality, a man who could argue his point as well as fight for it. A fitting helpmate for a priestess. Frightened by how much that thought appealed to her, she squelched it, even as she admired Lucan’s height, his shiny black hair that almost touched his collar, his blue eyes emphasized by his glasses. Sharp cheekbones added to his intensity and attractiveness. She had to keep a grip on her emotions. Desiring him was way too dangerous.

  As if he could sense her thoughts, Lucan looked at her and began to cross the room. “I’m going outside to take a look.” Lucan spoke softly in her ear, his breath fanning her neck. In the celebration, she hadn’t noticed his approach, and the warmth of his breath on her neck almost made her jump.

  To other women the implied intimacy of his whisper might be a small thing, but in all Cael’s years, no male had ever sought her out, whispered in her ear, or shared secrets with her. No one. Suddenly, she was all too aware of Lucan, his powerful shoulders, his corded neck, his chest that was as broad as the Dumaro desert.

  What was he thinking? Didn’t he have any regard for proper behavior?

  She should have admonished him. Instead, she kept her voice low. “You want to go now? What’s your rush?”

  “How can you be so patient?” he countered, his eyes twinkling.

  The scales on the insides of her wrists began to tingle, and she didn’t have to be an empath to read his eagerness.

  “This is an historic moment. It mustn’t be hurried.” She smiled to take the sting from her words. “The president will make a speech. Video crews will come in so the public can witness the event. Would you deny everyone a chance to be part of—”

  “We don’t know how long the ground will remain stable. And we don’t know what made the shield come down,” Lucan said, daring to interrupt her. “Suppose the shield raises again just as suddenly? Or the obelisk collapses? We could miss our opportunity.”

  “Or be trapped or crushed inside.” Quentin came up behind them. His tone was firm. “No one’s going into that building until the engineers clear it.”

  Shaw joined them. “Why not?”

  Quentin stared down at Shaw. “I won’t have needless deaths on my watch.”

  From the rising tension in Lucan, Cael thought he might explode. Instead, he placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her away from the debating leaders.

  Lucan was touching her. Absurdly, she wanted to lean closer into him and had to remind herself that he could lose his life for that gesture.

  Cael glanced over her shoulder to see if anyone had noticed. Luckily, with the lights dimmed and all gazes on Avalon, no one paid them any attention. Except Rion. Out of her peripheral vision, she thought she saw him watching them, but when she turned to look, he glanced away.

  Warm and firm, Lucan’s touch shot tingles straight to her belly. The last time anyone had touched her… she’d been five. Until her fifth birthday, her parents had adhered to the law and treated her like her sisters. She’d been held and touched and loved, as if she was a normal little girl. But once she’d reached the age where she could practice dragonshaping, she’d lived apart from her sisters and parents and the Elders took over her education, teaching her about her dragon blood. A blood that made her stronger than her people. A blood that made it difficult for her to rein in her temper. A blood that made it possible for her to kill with dragon fire. For their own protection, her people were forbidden to antagonize her, to encroach on her space. Or to touch her.

  Cael didn’t want to be different. She didn’t want to be feared. Or revered.

  Of course, what she wanted didn’t matter. She was a High Priestess, sacred. Destined to walk through life alone. It was her fate.

  For Lucan’s sake, she should pull away from the warmth of his hand. But she couldn’t summon the will-power to step aside. Especially after they strode through the exit and into the hall, where no one was around to see this breach of protocol. She was amazed that such a simple touch, such an ordinary connection between two people, could feel so extraordinary.

  By the Goddess, he felt good.

  Her blood raced too fast through her body. She couldn’t seem to draw enough air into her lungs and had to force words past her breathlessness. “Where are we going?”

  “Outside.” He dropped his hand and headed for the door. “To Avalon.”

  “But Quentin said we couldn’t enter—”

  “He didn’t say we couldn’t look.” His voice sounded husky, coaxing, conspiratorial.

  All her life Cael had done what her people expected. She’d followed the rules that had been set long before she’d been born.

  But when Lucan stepped outside, she followed him. Immediately she felt a shift in the air. Three decades ago, a Dragonian had invented air scrubbers that cleaned some of the pollutants from the skies. But factories had increased production and the scrubbers never seemed to keep up. Pollutants often fogged in the cities, and the air tasted bitter. But today the wind was fresh, the air almost clean.

  “Come on.” Lucan took her hand, entwining his fingers in hers. She found herself matching his pace, running beside him toward the obelisk.

  Lucan halted before Avalon’s shadowed entrance. The ancient bronzed doors beckoned. Without the shield to block them, they looked more solid, yet luminous, and her pulse simmered with excitement.

  She placed her hand on the door, and it felt cool and smooth. A slight tingle skimmed up her arm—undoubtedly her imagination. She grasped the ancient lever that would tumble a lock. If she pulled, would the doors open?

  “Don’t.” Lucan tugged her back.

  “What’s wrong?” The urge to go inside was so strong her stomach drew into a tight knot.

  He spun her around to face the laboratory they’d just left. “Fire. Look.”

  Flames lit up the far perimeter of the lab. Already the blaze on the north side crackled, shooting hellish sparks into the sky. Red and orange flames
raced along the rooftop.

  She gasped in horror. “It’s spreading fast along the roof.”

  “We have to go back and warn them.” His expression was set. “If the fire reaches the flammable chemicals stored there, the lab could explode before the team even realizes there’s danger.”

  He was right. And yet… she didn’t want to leave Avalon. She had to force her feet toward the lab, her stride keeping pace with his as he pulled her along.

  Hand in hand they sprinted toward the building to warn Shaw’s team. Outside the lab’s door, a whirring in the sky made her pause. She heard the engines of machines, skimmers, hovercraft, and choppers. “Listen. Help’s coming.”

  Lucan tilted his head back and peered at the smoky sky. Flames silhouetted his bronzed face, his square jaw and determined eyes. Above, a squadron of aircraft loomed above the flames and dropped powder onto the fire.

  Lucan’s eyes narrowed. “Are those firemen?”

  “That’s the military.” Could General Brennon’s satellites have picked up on the fire that quickly? She held her breath, praying the powder would douse the conflagration. Instead, the opposite occurred. “By the Goddess. The fire’s burning faster.”

  “That powder is an accelerant.”

  She shuddered, her gut swirling with fear. “This fire… it’s no accident…” She met Lucan’s worried gaze. “I think it’s an attack. The military must have learned we dropped the shields.”

  “They want the Grail,” Lucan muttered.

  “Or they don’t want us to have it?” she suggested as he pulled her deeper into the shadows. “They may have even started the fire.”

  “Hell, they may have caused the sinkhole.”

  She peered over his shoulder at the airships, noting how he shielded her with his body.

  Lucan twisted the handle to the door of an annex to the lab. “This fire’s their excuse to take over.”

  “We have to warn Shaw.”

 

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