by Jane Godman
“You said Merlin was a hybrid. Is that how he came to have these powers?”
“Yes, he inherited his mortality from his human mother and his...” the pause seemed to hang in the air for a very long time “...other talents were bestowed through his father.”
“Who was his father?” Stella told herself firmly that she hadn’t lowered her guard, hadn’t forgotten to be annoyed that he was going to try to persuade her to enter into this frenzied Otherworld insurgence. It was just that the story was so fascinating and Cal told it with such passion that she couldn’t help being drawn into it.
He shook his head and, with the action, seemed to shake off his reflective mood. “It isn’t important to what I’m trying to explain. You see, Merlin’s greatest gift is the one that is the least acknowledged. His prophecies are unerringly accurate, Stella.”
“First time for everything.” She shrugged. “He’s had a good track record. What is it? At least a millennia and a half since King Arthur was born. No one is going to blame Merlin for getting this one wrong.”
“You don’t understand why the coming of the necromancer star is so important. How could you? It is only part of a wider prophecy. One that has already unfolded faultlessly, just as Merlin foretold.” He tightened his grip on her hands and shifted position so that he was facing her, his knees just touching hers. As always, the points where his body came into contact with hers had a soothing effect on her senses. Cal’s eyes had darkened to the color of a storm-laden sky. “The barrier between Otherworld and this mortal realm is a fragile one at the best of times, Stella. Sometimes it is worn thin. Since Moncoya came to power, it has been tested in a way that has never been known before. The intrusions into this earthly world by dark forces are increasing by the day. If the battle for Otherworld is not swiftly concluded—and the prophecy tells that unity can only be achieved by he who claims the heart of the necromancer star—so that order can be restored, then this world will perish.”
Stella closed her eyes, shutting out the beautiful gloom of the silent bower and the earnest face of the equally beautiful man before her. “Are you seriously telling me I’m the only hope you have of saving the world?” she asked, opening her eyes.
“I’m saying you are the best hope we have.” And she knew, from the expression in the now chalice-bright depths of his eyes, that it was true. Beyond doubt.
“Who is we?” The words came out on a long exhale of breath. “Who are the good guys, Cal? You said you’re not an angel.”
“No, I’m not. But the good guys, as you call them, are angels. Otherworld does not obey the same laws as the earthly realm but, if it helps, I suppose you could think of angels as an international peacekeeping force. If you apply the same logic to their opposite number, in other words to demons, they are a series of anarchists, each group hell-bent on overthrowing the established order and causing as much mayhem as they can in the process. They, of course, are delighting in and exploiting the current chaos.”
“That does help with the imagery. Where do you—just you, Cal—come into this?”
His grin was slightly lopsided and always heartbreaking. “I’m on the side of the angels. It’s my job.”
She withdrew her hands, bending her head so that she could fiddle with a thread on her sweater. What had she wanted him to say? “To hell with the rest of the world, I’m only here because I care about you, Stella”? Even though she knew she was being unfair, his words hit her like a slap across the face.
“I understand it now. You never were my guardian angel. I’ve been wrong about you my whole life. You were just doing a job. Protecting me so that you could get me to Otherworld to fight for the angels.”
“Stella, believe me, it was never like that to me...”
She looked up, smiling brightly, determined to hide the fierce pain that seemed to be trying to tear her heart in two. “So this is Necromancer Boot Camp, right? I’ll wash these dishes and then you can tell me all about our training program. I warn you now, you’ll have your work cut out getting me into shape.”
She snatched up the breakfast bowls and, keeping her shoulders squared, walked quickly away before he could speak again.
* * *
Cal swore under his breath. It wasn’t meant to be like this. He was supposed to be above getting too close. That was why he had taken on the role of protecting Stella. That and his knowledge of the prophecy, of course. That was why the Dominion had chosen him. Why one of their number, the one who was his personal contact within their angelic choir, had come to him with the proposition in the first place. The task they had asked of him had been exactly as Stella had supposed. “Guard the necromancer star against harm for five and twenty harvests. Then escort her to Otherworld so that the prophecy may be fulfilled.” So why was he sitting here worrying that she might be crying her eyes out as she washed the dishes? Why did he feel he had betrayed her trust? And why the hell did he want to go to her, wrap his arms around her and reassure her that of course he cared more about her than anything else?
Because, against his will and his judgment, he did care about Stella. He cared more than he wanted to admit. It was the one thing he had sworn never to do. Not after the one time he had opened his heart to another had ended with such disastrous results. Somehow, somewhere along the way, the liking and admiration he had felt for the spiky, funny little girl he thought he knew had changed. Since he had allowed Stella to see his mortal self, their relationship had shifted focus. Without him noticing, she had burrowed her way into his heart in a new and exciting way. He had to constantly remind himself to stop watching her. Too often he discovered his eyes were feasting on the delicate perfection of her face, the perfect line of her neck or those adorably pert breasts. Looking away didn’t help much. His mind still managed to spend too long dwelling on the sparkling expression in her green eyes, the luscious curve of her lips and the musical sound of her laughter. Admit it, Cal, you’ve got it bad.
He was like a schoolboy in the throes of his first crush, getting a hard-on just thinking about her. Here we go again. In spite of the gravity of his thoughts, he adjusted his jeans now to accommodate the erection that was straining against the stiff cloth. If the circumstances were different, this would be the most exhilarating emotion he had ever known. In a life that had encompassed centuries of magic and mayhem, that was saying something. Instead, these feelings he had for Stella were doomed. They must be buried, never to be revealed. Along with so many other things.
There was one thing he could do for her. Stella had been gone for five minutes already, but time was ephemeral to Cal. A conversation with the Dominion should remove him from the warded safety of the bower for hours. He could ensure, however, that it took him away from his role as Stella’s bodyguard for only the blink of an eye.
“No.” When he outlined his proposition, the angel’s serenity was unruffled, his certainty that he would be obeyed absolute. “You are too valuable to us. I cannot permit you to do this.”
“Then this is where we part company.” Cal began to walk away.
“My friend, think about what you are doing. Would you place the well-being of this mere girl above that of all mortality?” The angel’s voice rang out, halting Cal in his tracks.
Mere girl? Had anyone ever punched an angel? Cal swung back to face the Dominion. “You can’t have this both ways. For the past twenty-five years you’ve been telling me to watch over her because she is the only hope mankind has. Now, all of a sudden, I’m the one who’s become too precious to sacrifice. Make your mind up.”
“It was never part of our arrangement that you would fight alongside her. Your task was simply to get her there.”
“I’m changing the arrangement. As of now.” Cal felt his jaw muscles stiffen. “Or I’m walking. And if I walk, I take her with me.”
“You would not do that. Not after Darnantes...”
Cal threw up a silencing hand and, for the first time—probably in all eternity—the angel took a step back. “You know better than to speak to me of that!”
“Where would you go?” The angel’s tone was softly persuasive. “It would shame me to offer you threats, but there can be no hiding place in the earthly realm or in Otherworld. For you or for her.”
Cal laughed and the sound, echoing in nothingness, was not a pleasant one. “I think we both know better. You know with whom you are dealing. You know what I can do. We have been on the same side...until now.”
“There is no need for this. We cannot afford to lose you. Yet, believe me, I do understand your concern for the girl. Let another accompany her. Lorcan Malone, maybe? It is about time he ceased his restless wandering and came into the fold.” Cal remained stubbornly silent. The angel repeated his earlier words. “You are too valuable.”
“You assume we will lose. The prophecy asserts otherwise.”
The Dominion shook his head. “I know better than to attempt to debate the words of the prophecy with you. Go then. Do what you must.” He shook his head. “You disappoint me.”
Cal grinned, his heart suddenly lighter. It might be reluctant permission, but at least it wasn’t condemnation. “It would not be the first time, would it?”
Back in the bower, he looked up as the crackling of twigs underfoot signaled Stella’s return. Her eyes looked suspiciously red, but she met his gaze with a smile. If it was forced it was a good attempt. Sketching a salute, she stood to attention. “Private Fallon reporting for duty, sir!”
Although he wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and kiss away the trace of tears that lingered on her cheek, Cal fought down the impulse with a Herculean effort. He had to do all he could to ensure her safety. He had taken a huge step toward that already today. Their relationship was destined to be one-sided. Sharing who he was could never be part of it.
Rising to his feet, he walked to her. “Shoulders back, Private,” he said sternly, playing along. “There’s not much of you, but not to worry. We’ll make a necromancer of you yet.”
Chapter 9
Being a necromancer had its compensations. For one thing, Stella was never again going to have to worry about being stuck in a power outage without candles. Not when Cal announced that her first lesson was going to be how to create light within darkness.
“So do we do this with wands and crystal balls?” Determined not to allow him any glimpse of her true feelings, she adopted a flippant attitude.
“You’ve been watching too much television.”
“You’re not going to put on robes and a pointy hat? I was hoping for the full magician’s outfit.” She studied Cal in the shaft of bright sunlight that managed to find a slanting path through the trees.
“Then you’ll have to control your strange fetishes. What you see is what you get.” He indicated his standard uniform of naked torso and cutoff jeans.
What she saw usually made her mouth go dry with longing. Not today, she told herself sternly. If she was to remain aloof from him she must also strive for immunity from the honed perfection of his body. Stella continued to rely on glib comments in an attempt to cover her nerves. “I’m sure Merlin would have worn robes to do his stuff.”
“I can tell you categorically that, contrary to anything you may have read, seen or heard, Merlin did not wear robes.”
“How do you know?” She challenged. Then, as if a sudden thought had occurred to her, she clasped her hands together in mock delight under her chin. “Cal! Were you there? Did you know Merlin?” she teased.
“Can we get on with this, please?” His voice held a hint of impatience.
“I’m just a bit nervous,” she explained as he led the way into the cave.
“You have always had this power. You just need to learn how to harness it.”
“I don’t understand what that means.” She wrinkled her nose in confusion at Cal as they made their way into the labyrinth and even deeper underground than their living quarters. “Telling me to ‘just learn how to harness it’ is not particularly helpful.”
In reply, he extinguished the lamp he was carrying, and the darkness around them instantly became so thick and black it hurt her eyes. No matter how hard she blinked, her vision wouldn’t clear. She couldn’t find even a sliver of light on which to focus. Because there was none.
Cal placed his hands on her shoulders, and that slight familiar tremor, like a very faint electric shock, zapped through her at his touch. “This is not a spell.” His voice was different. Not the big, commanding tones of the airport. It was softer and lower, mesmerizing as he almost chanted the words. “No incantation is needed to achieve this. All you must do is reach inside yourself and find the will to make it happen.”
His chin was touching her shoulder, his breath stroking her cheek with a warm caress. She wanted to turn her head and explain that she couldn’t think of anything else with him so close. Or kiss him. Forget being hurt and confused. Just turn her head and kiss him. Instead, she forced herself to focus on his words.
“All magic brings great responsibility. We must remain aware, at all times, of the consequences of what we do. Never act in haste, never allow negative energy to control you. That must be the difference between us and our enemies. The bringing forth of light will not be the same for you as it is for me. It will be a personal thing. All you have to do is reach deep inside yourself and find it. Feel it. It is already there, Stella. You are the necromancer star. Light is a powerful force within you.”
So she stood completely still in a darkness so coal black it felt as if it was pressing in on her chest and suffocating her. She tried to discover within herself that which she did not understand. Gradually her mind shut out the awareness of Cal standing close by, of the clean, masculine scent of his flesh, of the soft, rhythmic sound of his breathing. Her injured heart tucked away the bitterness of his abandonment and betrayal. That wasn’t going anywhere. Deal with it another day. Slowly, at a point low in her abdomen, a tingling sensation began and spiraled slowly outward.
With it, on a level just above conscious thought, came a new awareness. This is my destiny. This is who I am. The knowledge had lain dormant within her for so long. Even the main character in her “Supernova Deliverance” game had been part of that knowledge. A girl who held the power of the stars within her own body. Sound familiar, Stella? No wonder Moncoya leaped at the chance of getting her to Barcelona. It was as if she had waved a flag at him announcing her readiness to be his weapon.
It seemed right to lower her head and raise her arms upward and outward to shoulder height. Adopting the same stance Moncoya had taken when he faced the gargoyle, she allowed the thrilling sensation to radiate out from her middle and through her whole body. A flicker of light, so faint and fleeting it might have been her imagination, appeared at the same height as her outstretched arms.
“I did it!” She turned to where she thought Cal was standing.
“You can do better.” His voice was farther away than she expected.
“Challenge accepted,” she replied through gritted teeth. The second time was so easy it startled her. Within seconds, she had the cave lit up like a carnival. Laughing, she turned again to Cal, chattering in her excitement. “I really can do it! I thought I might have to keep my head bent and my arms out, but I don’t. Then I was scared it would do something to my insides. You know, drain all my energy. But it’s weird. It’s sort of invigorating. I could go even brighter. Do you want to see?”
He shook his head, smiling. Even through her euphoria it struck her that there was something sad about that smile. “You are better even than I was the first time I tried. That’s lesson one over. You have established a belief in your own ability, which will make the lessons to come easier.”
Over the course of the following week, Stella’s belief
in herself had grown daily. With it the emotional gulf between her and Cal seemed to widen to a point where it was insurmountable. Gone was the intimacy of that first night. The closeness of holding him and being held by him might have been a dream. Now, after they said a stilted good-night, she went to her lonely bed while Cal curled his long limbs onto the sofa. Stella had offered to swap, but he had curtly refused. Yet, despite the growing distance, the attraction she felt toward him was stronger than ever. It was so fierce it actually burned. She couldn’t explain it. He had hurt her beyond anything she had known before. Oh, she accepted that he had not intended to cause her pain. That much was true. How could he know what he had done to her heart when he told her she was just a job to him? Cal couldn’t be expected to understand that he was all she had ever had. Everyone else in her life had abandoned her. Never Cal. He had been the one she had come to depend on. Her constant. Admit it, Stella, just once, just to yourself. He had been the one she thought would always love her. Only now she knew he didn’t care about her at all. Probably, on some level, he quite liked her. She thought he did. They laughed at the same things. There was a warm light in his eyes when they rested on her. But he would happily hand her over when the time came and move on to the next assignment. Well, it was up to Stella to hide her feelings and cultivate the same businesslike approach. She thought she was doing a good job. On the whole.
Except when he smiled at her as he was doing now and her stomach did a funny little backward somersault. She still had a bit of work to do on that. They were sitting high on the hilltop above the cave. The day was clear and bright, and fluffy clouds scudded the sky as though a great artist had wiped indigo paint onto white cloth. It was the first time they had left the security of the bower since the day they had arrived, and Stella was feeling anxious.
“Stop looking over your shoulder. You are the necromancer star. The greatest of them all.” His grin widened. “And I’m not bad either. Together we can fight off anything.”