Robert took each of their hands. “We’ll find the truth.” Before they could blink, he had brought them to Draecyn’s office in his old estate, hidden high in the Blue Ridge Mountains.
Tremaine’s brow furrowed. “This is as far as you can take us?”
“Unfortunately. I don’t know my way around the catacombs. I was only brought down twice. I tried a few times after his death to get there, but I never moved. I couldn’t translocate beyond the shields or wards.”
Tremaine’s head cocked to the side. An idea formed. He wrapped his hand around Robert’s shoulder. “Take us to the room I envision. Don’t think about it, just do it.”
Shrugging, Robert inhaled and closed his eyes. They appeared in an expansive room with shelves full of books.
“A library?” Liz asked as she turned in a complete circle, taking it all in.
Tremaine agreed, “Something like that. Though there are artifacts somewhere. I feel the magic humming, and I don’t mean the wards.”
“Is this one of your dimensional pockets?” Robert asked.
Liz grinned. “Yeah. It is. We aren’t on Earth, not faerie. Where the hell are we?”
“Nowhere.” Tremaine sighed. “This pocket only exists here, in his catacombs. I’ve seen the plans for it. It covers the whole area, only in an open format. I’m not sure how he accessed it. I could see places within the catacombs that bled into this place but could never cross the borders. And trust me, I’ve tried many times. I’m not even sure who created the rift.”
Robert ran his fingers over the spines of several books. “They’re in our code.”
“It’s not a code. It’s an ancient, arcane language.” Tremaine closed his eyes and breathed deep. The magic had a comforting smell to him, unlike some of the other Rift Benders who he’d known. “I wonder…” He walked around the room, following the pull of some unknown force.
“Where are you going?” Robert asked, Liz following closely on his heels.
“I’m looking for something,” Tremaine answered, not slowing down.
Liz scooted ahead, taking the lead as she wound through shelves strung together to form a labyrinth. “It could be a trap,” Robert called.
“No. It’s here. I feel it,” Liz assured.
“What’s here?” Robert demanded.
Robert looked over as they jogged through aisles. The distance between Liz and the two of them grew by the second. With an aggravated groan, Robert took Tremaine’s shoulder and zapped them in front of her.
“Slow down, Liz,” Robert stated.
Only Liz was already stopped, her hands on a leather-bound journal. “It’s his, isn’t it?” She met Tremaine’s gaze and caught her bottom lip between her teeth.
“It is.” He placed his hand on top of the book and pressed a finger under her chin to lift her gaze to his. “I don’t have a clue what we’ll find.”
“I have to know.” She stepped out of reach and opened the book.
Tremaine sighed and checked around the alcove. A low, circular table with eight chairs gathered around seemed to call him.
Robert moved to the table and touched the symbols engraved around the edge. “I’ve seen this. There’s a seal on my father’s desk with these same symbols. What does it mean?” He looked up to lock eyes with Tremaine.
Tremaine stepped closer and dropped his attention to the table. Shaking his head, he pushed his fingers through his hair. “I’m not totally sure. He never explained when I asked. He has the same symbol in his office here. Old Lady Murdock wears the same thing around her neck. Several other people have similar objects either on them or in their homes.”
“You really believe there’s some kind of order trying to steer the Silver Council?” Robert asked.
“Yes, with every fiber of my being. There is no question in my mind that something is going on, and we need the answers. Strong forces are pulling the Silver Council in two different directions, and I believe Draecyn’s faction was on the right side, but I don’t know enough to stand by that. And I don’t know who, besides HARP, could have been working to tear the Council apart from the inside.”
“None of your theories are comforting.” Robert huffed. “If you’re right, everything I believed about my family is wrong.”
Tremaine caught Robert’s hand. “A few details, sure. Whether or not your family was part of this other faction, I don’t know. But your parents loved and protected you. I don’t know what more to tell you, other than this shouldn’t change how you feel about them. Your father took Liz in when I didn’t believe I could give Liz the kind of life she deserved.”
“You did what you could, saving her from a horrible situation, bringing her to a home where she was cared for. That’s more than a lot of people can ever say.”
“I’m still not sure how to take care of a child. The only reasons I’m not stressed out about how we’ll raise our child are you and Liz.”
Robert chuckled. “You know, she’s worried about taking care of a baby, but I can’t imagine either one of you failing as a parent. You want only the best for those you care about, and both of you are more than capable of ensuring they are loved and cared for.”
“Same as you. Though you’ll do it better.” Tremaine laughed. “You had a happy childhood. Neither Liz nor I can claim that.”
“No, but I believe that means you’ll do a better job of making sure our boy is happy.”
Tremaine smiled over at Liz. “Her too.”
“Yeah.” Robert glanced down and ran his fingers over the carved symbols. “Any clue what this means?”
“No, but maybe we can find something that answers our questions. Including that one.”
* * * *
Tears welled up in Liz’s eyes as she scanned the pages. Their code, or so they thought. It was so much more. A whole other language Tremaine had taught them. Though no one told him the origin of the language. He had been kept in the dark the same way she and Robert were.
The more she saw, the more she believed Tremaine’s notion there was more at play. When she thought about her own little boy, the less she understood her father. How could he know about her existence and still let her go? Even if he didn’t want her, why keep her from her mother?
She turned away from Tremaine and Robert, knowing they would only worry about her rampant emotions. Part of the conflict might have been pregnancy hormones.
Draecyn’s words flowed from the page, filling her head with images of a past she couldn’t grasp.
One thing stuck out as odd. Branches of Emrys. Crazy ideas floated through her head.
Myrddin Emrys was repeatedly mentioned. Myrddin as in Merlin. Preston’s grandfather, Maverick, was rumored to be Merlin. If Old Lady Murdock had been a mystic, was Myrddin also? Are the mystics trying to redirect the Silver Council? If so, why?
She almost wished Preston was there with her. Maybe he could make more sense of the damned book.
Frustrated, she flipped through the text until she found a note made out to her.
Elizandra,
My darling girl, I am so very sorry I was never there for you.
You’ll never know how much it tore me apart to not claim you as mine.
Too many people knew the only child I had was with Amalie, making you a very powerful woman indeed. For your safety, I sent Tremaine, believing he would rescue you, keep you safe, and watch over you. I suspected he would send you to live with Wilhelm, who could provide a family. That situation would still allow him to visit often.
My heart broke because I couldn’t tell Amalie I found you, or that you lived. I needed you safe more than I needed you to know me as a father.
If you’re reading this, your life is about to become further complicated because you and Robert have both learned what you are and how to combine your power in ways that are coveted by HARP and their inner core. You are no longer safe.
This also means you believe me dead. It’s certainly possible I couldn’t find my way to safety, but I urge you to loo
k where only Tremaine would think to hide something truly important to him.
Perhaps I can finally be the father you deserved.
My heart is yours,
Draecyn
Tears streamed down her face, and she struggled to understand. The question was out of her mouth before she had a chance to process her actions or thoughts. “Tremaine, where would you hide something truly important to you?”
Tremaine’s head snapped up, his attention locking on her as he stalked across the room. He stood beside her and looked down at the page. “Fucking shit,” he muttered.
“What does it mean?” she asked in a small voice. Her strength wavered.
“Robert, we need to go to my mother’s home.” Tremaine choked out a bitter laugh. “I might kill him if he’s actually alive.”
Liz grabbed his arm. “Did you read his letter?”
He nodded. “Doesn’t make it any better.”
“Why not?” she asked. She knew the conflict in her own head. Anger was so much easier to process than loss. And if he were really alive, why ask them for help? Beyond confused, she waited for Tremaine to say anything that might make sense.
“Because he suspected you were with Sinclair, and he sent me instead of going to you himself. I’m sorry, but nothing would keep me from my child.”
“When you put it like that, I get it. Though look at us.” She forced a laugh. “If the Council ever finds out what we truly are, our baby is going to be in as much danger as Draecyn believed me to be.”
“Would you leave your child behind?” he challenged.
“No. Not in a million years.”
“Neither would I,” Robert agreed. “We’d go somewhere else if we had to.”
Tremaine nodded. “See, none of us would walk away from our kids.”
“We don’t know the whole story. And I want to know if he did somehow live. I was sure he was dead.” Liz was more determined than before.
“So was I.” Tremaine took her hands. “We may have had our disputes over the years, but I still consider him a friend.”
Robert stepped closer. “Where did you grow up, Tremaine?”
“An old house outside of Charleston. It’s still there. What’s left of it.”
The scenery had changed. Liz wasn’t sure how far Tremaine managed to lead her away from the nightmare that had been her start, but they were on foot for so long she’d lost track of time.
“We’ll rest soon,” Tremaine promised.
She nodded, still too wrapped in her head, trying to keep from remembering anything that came before. Her dreams were haunted by the horrors she’d witnessed.
“I’ll make you a real meal,” he offered with a smile. His kind eyes warmed the chill from the early morning.
He’d taken care of every meal, ensured their camps were livable and made sure she was healthy. At night, when she woke up from the nightmares, he sang to her until she fell back asleep, keeping the dreams away for the rest of the night.
A few short minutes later, he led her down an overgrown path, to an old, large home. The paint was peeling away, but all the windows and doors were in good shape.
Liz looked up at Tremaine. “This isn’t the McCallister’s home, is it?”
He shook his head. “No, it’s not. We’re close, but I want to make sure you’re well rested before we go. Besides, there are a few more things I’d like to teach you before we arrive.”
She sighed. “I don’t need a family to take care of me.”
Sadness replaced his smile. “Unfortunately, with my position with the Silver Council, I would make a poor guardian. You’d be on your own more often than not. I won’t abandon you, but you need to be around others your age. Children who can help you adjust to our world.”
Nodding, she glanced down at the ground while he opened the home with a spell. “Come inside. I’ll start a fire and then make a meal. Relax. We can finally do that here.”
Stepping inside, she felt at home. His essence had seeped into everything. As much as she understood Tremaine’s reasons to send her to a family, she wanted to remain with him. He was the first person to show her love and warmth, and she wanted to hold onto that with every part of her being.
Liz wrapped her arm around Tremaine’s waist. Emotions threatened to overflow. “You took me there. A few days before getting me to Robert’s.” She looked into his eyes. “I wanted to stay there with you.”
“I know. At the time, I thought it was the right decision, Liz. You were too important to me. I told you, you gave me a reason to live.”
Her heart throbbed as she wrapped both arms around him. Their relationship had evolved into something neither of them had ever expected. “I love you, Tremaine.”
Tremaine kissed the top of her head. “You’re my direction.”
Robert touched each of them, and they appeared in the home she hadn’t seen since before going to Robert’s. Layers of dust coated everything, but it was the same place she remembered.
Robert’s brow arched. “When was the last time you were here?”
Tremaine shrugged. “Fifty years ago? Maybe longer. It was never home, but it was the first place I created a dimensional pocket.” He huffed. “Didn’t even realize what it was until Rupert taught me how to create them. It looks the same as here, only brighter and more colorful.
Liz’s head cocked. “I never did that until you taught me to today.”
“No, but you had your own uses for the pockets. Your hidey holes are the smaller, compact, and more stable versions. Though the one I created as a child was.”
“So where is yours?”
“We’ll have to walk. I’m sure the path is overgrown.” He checked Robert’s expression. “Hope you don’t mind.”
Robert gripped his shoulder. “I’m here for you. Lead the way.”
Chapter 17
Liz and Robert followed Tremaine down the trail that was somehow still there. He hadn’t been back for decades, but the path he followed as a boy was full of wildflowers as if leading to a faerie circle or something equally mystical. Once upon a time, he believed he was blessed by the fae.
He uttered a sad sigh while making his way deeper into the woods. The canopy of leaves grew so thick the sun didn’t make it through.
“Interesting,” Liz murmured. “No light, yet the flowers thrive.”
“I was thinking the same,” Robert replied.
“Used to believe I was blessed.” Tremaine shook his head. “Maybe Draecyn set it up, or someone else who was involved.”
“I find it interesting the Branches of Emrys is the name that keeps popping up. Almost wish we’d brought Preston along to see if he recognizes anything.” Liz pulled her phone out and snapped a couple pictures as they moved deeper into the woods.
Tremaine’s brow quirked. “Why the pictures?”
She smirked. “Don’t imagine we’ll be coming back here anytime soon, and it’s magical.”
Glancing back the way they came, he shrugged. “There are no happy memories back at the house.” Briefly stopping, he surveyed the clearing, then smiled at Liz. “Though I spent many hours here, playing with the family of minks.”
Liz squeezed his hand. “At least you had a place to go that was all your own.”
Tremaine squeezed back and took Robert’s hand. Then he whispered a spell. The colors rippled all around them, shifting to brighter hues.
Draecyn stood in front of them wearing a cautious smile. “I was beginning to believe you were never coming back here.”
Tremaine’s heart sank thinking about his old mentor. He was no longer sure if he was a friend or the one moving pieces on a board.
Drawing a slow breath, he stared at Draecyn, taking in his aged appearance. Not terribly, but there were now crow’s feet around his eyes, a few strands of gray through his brown hair and goatee.
Tremaine shook his head slowly. “You left clues in places I couldn’t get to on my own, or without a reason to delve further into what the three of us can do.
”
Draecyn nodded then turned to Liz, who watched him cautiously. Her blank expression a sure sign she didn’t trust her feelings or her thoughts.
“I’m sorry I’ve been hiding since you learned who I was. It wasn’t intentional. You did enough healing to allow Ms. Murdock to mend my lung before pushing me through a portal here.”
Tremaine shook his head. “But how do you have access to this place? Unlike Robert, I can’t create a token to transport you. I only brought you here once to hide an artifact you trusted with no one, not even the ones who helped create the wards protecting your most secure storage.”
One corner of Draecyn’s mouth tipped up. “Ah, but I have the ability to create my own charm if I’m brought through. Old magic, long lost to most mages and other casters. Ceridwen convinced me to make it when you brought me here. She also directed me to leave the letter, knowing it would bring the three of you to this location.”
“Ceridwen?” Tremaine asked cautiously. “As in Ceridwen Mystra?”
Draecyn winced. “You know her as Ms. Murdock. She has gone by many names over the years. I’m likely going to catch hell for letting that secret slip.”
“No, it was bound to come out sooner or later,” Old Lady Murdock said as she entered the rift, startling both Robert and Liz. “At least to these three, and several more, very soon.”
“Should we have brought Preston?” Robert asked, seemingly amused.
Confused as ever, Tremaine shook his head. He knew the woman was something else but never imagined she was the whole reason the Silver Council had been created. She now avoided the Council, although she had a habit of showing up in times of great change. Always guiding, never directly interfering. He’d seen her throughout his life though often forgot about her until many years later, at least until he stayed with her and Liz after she left Robert.
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