by Rebecca York
Quinn managed to get down a little of the meal. Zarah took only a few bites of melon.
Then they changed clothes.
Quinn hadn’t wanted to travel through the badlands or in the city alone wearing what would look like a strange outfit. But surrounded by Griffin’s soldiers, the situation would be different—both for her and Zarah. So she’d brought supplies from Logan’s world on a previous trip.
Now she showed Zarah how to put on clothing that a pregnant woman would wear in that universe. Not one of the voluminous gowns designed to hide a woman’s condition here, but clothes that were tighter fitting.
Zarah inspected herself in the mirror. “This outfit looks indecent.”
“But you will fit in.”
“Can we ever blend in over there?”
“I feel comfortable there. I just spent a few days visiting one of their cities. You’ll like it,” Quinn answered as she pulled off her Sun Acres shirt and changed into jeans and a T-shirt with a leather jacket over it. Both women put on socks and running shoes.
A few moments later, a guard knocked at the door. “Draden is ready for you.”
When she descended the stairs, a slender, balding man with dark glittery eyes was waiting for Quinn.
“What took you so long to get here from the other universe?” he asked as he led her to a small room off the courtyard.
“A ghost stopped me.”
“A ghost? Over there?”
“Yes.”
“I’d like to hear about it.”
“When we have time.” She sighed. “I wish we could hold a conversation when I’m away from you and you summon me.”
“So do I. But your psychic talents won’t allow it over such a long distance.”
She looked down. “I’m sorry for that.”
“Still, you have the best combination of skills for the job,” he conceded. “Now let me give you an additional treatment—in case I need to call you.”
She had done this before, and she stood staring straight ahead as he pressed his hands to her temples. Energy flowed from his mind into hers. Enough energy so that he could send her a message to summon her again.
When he was finished, he led her back to the doorway of the house, where a contingent of ten soldiers waited with Griffin and Zarah.
He escorted them to a sturdy, horse-drawn wagon. It was low and flat, with sacks of grain piled across the top surface. But when Griffin opened a panel at the back, Quinn saw that there was a compartment inside about three feet high and as wide as the wagon base.
“I’m sorry. This isn’t going to be very comfortable, but it’s the safest way to get you out of here. You’ll look like you’re a grain shipment. And the soldiers are just protecting the goods.”
Zarah fixed her gaze on him. “Do we say good-bye here?”
“No. I’ll go another way and meet you outside the city.”
“Thank the Great Mother.”
“Don’t open the door unless you hear me say, ‘The moon is up.’ ”
Zarah gulped. “All right.”
“I can only go as far as the portal with you,” Griffin warned.
“I understand.”
The women climbed inside and arranged themselves as comfortably as they could on the thin mattresses that coveredthe wagon bed. Then Griffin handed them each a long knife. “In case you need to defend yourselves.”
“Are you expecting trouble?” Quinn asked.
“No. But it’s best to be prepared.”
He closed the door, and they bolted it from the inside. The interior of the space was hot, stuffy, and dark, but some light and air seeped in from several cracks.
Quinn tensed when the wagon lurched and started toward the gate. She couldn’t let go of her tension as she felt the vehiclemove through the streets. It was impossible not to imagineBaron’s soldiers stopping them at any moment.
Zarah reached for her hand, and Quinn knew she was probably thinking the same thing.
“Are you all right?” Quinn whispered.
“As good as can be expected,” Zarah answered. “I’m tryingnot to cry and give us away.”
“I know this is hard for you.”
“And you. You came back to help me.”
“You’re my best friend.”
Zarah’s hand tightened on hers. “And you are mine.”
“We shouldn’t talk,” Quinn whispered.
“I know.”
They rode in silence after that. Quinn closed her eyes and lay back, trying to conserve her energy.
When the wagon stopped abruptly, she tensed and grabbed the knife with her free hand, ready for trouble—until she heard the soldiers conferring with the guards at the gate. Long, tense moments passed before she heard the hinges creak. Finally, they rolled through and out into the badlands.
Zarah made a low sound.
“Are you all right?” Quinn asked quickly.
“Yes. But I’m wondering if Griffin lied to me. Maybe he’s not coming.”
In the darkness, Quinn touched her friend’s arm. “Has he ever lied to you?”
“No.”
“He won’t start now,” Quinn answered, hoping she spoke the truth. “If he can meet us, he will.”
They rolled along, the ride considerably bumpier now that they had left the city streets for a rutted lane that led across open country and threaded through the ruined buildings.
Quinn tried to count the minutes, but it was impossible to keep track of time.
Then they stopped again, and Quinn grasped the knife more tightly.
“The moon is up. Open the door,” a voice called out.
“Griffin. Thank the gods,” Zarah answered as she slid down toward the end of the cart.
In the darkness, Quinn fumbled with the latch. When it clicked, Griffin opened the door, then helped his wife out. She stood swaying on unsteady legs. The ride had been cramped and uncomfortable, and both women moved their arms and legs, trying to get their circulation back.
“Are you all right?” Griffin asked as he led his wife around the side of a ruined building where they would have some protection if anyone had tracked them from the city.
“Yes.”
Quinn followed more slowly, still shaking her legs and moving her arms, trying to prepare herself to walk or run the last few hundred feet to the portal.
She saw Zarah fling her arms around her husband’s neck and hold on tightly. Then she pulled his mouth down to hers for a frantic kiss.
The passion between them sizzled. And once again, Quinn looked away. She shouldn’t be here. None of them should have to be here. They should be back at Griffin’s grand house, going on with their lives. But she knew that it would be a while before life would get back to normal here. When Zarah and Quinn had arrived in Sun Acres, Griffin had been content to work behind the scenes. But still, Baron had seen Griffin was gathering power, and he’d wanted to eliminate a rival.
Maybe that was really the norm in Sun Acres, endless fighting for position among the nobles. Zarah had told her it was much the same in White Flint, where her father had been accused of robbing the treasury, convicted, and executed—all in a matter of weeks.
Quinn stared at the wagon, then beyond. They had traveledfor hours, and the light was almost gone. She could see they were far across the badlands, very close to the portal. It was only a few hundred feet to safety.
She moved a little way from the couple who held each other tightly, trying to give Zarah and Griffin some privacy. Then she heard a noise in the distance and looked up to see a cloud of dust sweeping toward them.
Horsemen, coming at them fast and furious.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Griffin had heard the horses, too.
Quinn watched him lurch away from his wife. Snapping into command mode, he turned toward the soldiers who had escorted the party away from the city and began giving clipped orders to his men.
“Vaun, Camber, Robee, Franks, Shuman come with me. I’m taking the wagon and making it look like the wom
en are inside. Marks and Paker, stay here and defend this position. Willis and Jordan, go with the women. Get them to the portal—at all cost.”
The well-trained force sprang into action.
Zarah tried to run back to Griffin, but he shook his head, his eyes blazing. “We have no time to spare. And they must not see you now. Wait here until the main party goes after me. Then make a run for the portal.”
“But . . .”
“I’ll be fine,” he said, and Quinn knew the words were automatic.He was taking a terrible risk to lead the soldiers away from his wife.
It was yet more proof of how important Zarah had becometo him.
Griffin jumped in the wagon, whipping at the horses as he started off, raising his own cloud of dust from the dry ground.
As he took off across the plain, she saw the large dust cloud that had come toward them veer off on an interception course toward the wagon.
But not all of the troops followed the fleeing vehicle. Some of the soldiers were still headed in the direction of the ruined building that hid Zarah from view.
Quinn calculated their chances of getting away. Griffin had said to stay here and let the soldiers defend them, but more of the enemy were coming this way than he’d thought. She counted six. What if Griffin’s troops couldn’t fight them off?
She turned to Zarah. “Can you run?”
“Yes.”
Quinn hoped it was true. She looked at the four remaining guards. “Do your best to keep them here,” she told them.
“Yes, miss.”
Zarah’s eyes were wide. “Which way?”
“Toward those rocks,” she pointed, then heard an arrow hit the ground right in back of her.
“Run,” she shouted.
Zarah started off strong, but her pregnant body quickly flagged. They had only twenty-five more yards to go, but that might as well have been miles.
Quinn stayed behind Zarah, guarding her back, praying that Griffin’s men could hold off the attackers.
When she looked behind her, she saw Paker go down. Marks, Willis, and Jordan were fighting four of the enemy.
Zarah was breathing hard and holding her belly when she reached the rocks.
Quinn took her hand and pulled her the last few yards into the cave, then toward the back, where she pressed her palm against the wall. As she focused on the psi mechanism, she could see the barrier between the worlds thinning, but she could also hear running feet pounding behind them outsidethe cave.
She clutched Zarah’s hand and urged her forward.
“I’m afraid.”
Wishing she had explained what it was like when they’d had time to talk, she said, “It feels strange, but it won’t hurt you. Just follow me.”
She plunged into the space between the worlds, feeling the familiar resistance. At the strange sensation, Zarah tried to pull back.
Quinn yanked at her hand, forcing her through, and they almost lost their footing as they tumbled onto the other side of the portal.
“Thank the Great Mother,” she whispered as she led Zarah out of the cave and into the moonlit forest.
“We made it,” Zarah said in a hushed voice.
“Yes.” But when Quinn looked behind her, her blood froze. Before the portal had closed, two of Baron’s soldiers had also come through.
She could see them standing at the cave entrance, looking around in wonder at the unexpected surroundings.
“Two of them are here,” Quinn whispered. She took Zarah’s hand and led her behind a tree, then another, moving farther and farther from the cave, praying they wouldn’t be spotted.
Her friend’s breath was coming in great gasps. “I can’t. You go on.”
“No! I came to save you. I’m not going to leave you here.” She gripped the knife with one hand.
“You go on. I’ll hold them off.”
“No.”
“Over there,” a voice shouted, and she knew the soldiers had spotted them.
All she could do was drag Zarah toward a tangle of underbrush,hoping they could hide in the dimming light.
But the men were closing on them fast. “Don’t kill the slim one. She knows how to get out of here.”
Oh, great. But maybe that gave her an advantage. She could fight them, and they wouldn’t strike a killing blow.
She thrust Zarah behind her, then rounded on the men, the knife held along her leg where it couldn’t be seen. She’d let one of them get in close, then bring her arm up and get him.
The first one came toward her with confidence, thinking that a small woman was no match for his masculine might. She brought the knife up, chopping into his shoulder. As she did, Zarah lunged forward, catching him in the back of the neck and plunging her knife in.
Quinn heard bone crack. He screamed and went down in a limp heap, leaving them facing one man. She liked those odds better.
The other soldier dropped back, regarding them with cautionnow—and glancing nervously toward the trees behind them before his gaze flicked back to Quinn.
What was he looking at?
He reached into the pack he carried and pulled out a rounded blue stone, with carvings on the surface, which he held up, facing the woods. And she knew what it was. A talismanfrom her world. A talisman designed to banish spirits.
CALEB knew Quinn was in trouble. He was rushing to help her when the thing in the man’s hand stopped him cold. Literally.
He felt an icy, numbing wave plowing toward him like a nor’easter sweeping up the coastline to wrack the land.
As the freezing wind hit him, he understood that whateverthe man held could turn him to vapor.
But Quinn was fighting for her life. She needed his help now, and he would do what it took to save her, even if he winked out of existence.
His commitment to her startled him. And that was a good feeling, too.
In the short time he had known her, she had changed him. He had been in a kind of stupor, sometimes awake but more often drifting through the days like a leaf floating in a stream, swept along by the current.
But she had brought him back to life. Well, not life, but to a keen awareness of the world around him.
He had to help her. At any cost.
THERE was only one spirit Quinn had met around here. Caleb.
Fear leaped inside her. Fear for him. Had the man seen the ghost? Could he wipe him off the face of the earth with that thing?
She couldn’t risk a glance in back of her, not when the soldier was facing her and could attack at any minute. And for all she knew, he was using the stone as a distraction.
“Stay back.” He held up the talisman like a warning, then to Quinn’s shock, he threw it at her. It hit her in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her. As she doubled over, she dropped her knife and went down. The soldier sprinted towardZarah.
Gasping, Quinn rolled to her side, seeing her friend back up, then stumble over a tree root and drop to the ground.
The man looked from Zarah to Quinn and back again.
“If you kill her, Griffin will hunt you down and cut you in pieces—slowly,” Quinn gasped out.
She had the man’s attention. While he looked at her, she picked up a handful of dirt and flung it into his face.
Coughing and spitting dirt, he lunged at Quinn again, grabbing her by the hair and pulling her down. When she fought him, they rolled across the ground, each struggling to get the advantage.
AS Caleb strained to reach Quinn and the man, he fought the coldness snuffing out his senses. He felt like his chest was being crushed by some invisible force. And his vision was so dim that he was close to blindness.
Just as he was about to stumble to his knees, the other woman—the one who had fallen—crawled forward. She must be Zarah, the friend Quinn had brought to safety here. Only they were hardly safe.
The woman snatched up the blue stone from the ground, then backed quickly away, out of the field of battle.
Some of the pressure lifted from Caleb’s energy body, and he
dragged himself a few paces forward. His attention was on Quinn, but from the corner of his eye he saw Zarah fumble with the pack she wore and pull out something that looked to him like the gravy boat his mother had used at Thanksgiving.
Then she turned away, and he couldn’t see what she was doing—until a flame flared up, blue and startling, shooting toward the sky like the shaft of a sword.
As the flame surged, the cold and crushing sensation evaporated from his energy body, and he charged toward Quinn and the man, howling his rage.
A ghost wolf hunting his prey.
He clamped his teeth on an exposed shoulder, and the man screamed, then turned and stared at him, terror in his eyes. Scrambling to his feet, he ran.
Caleb came after him, growling as he steered his quarry toward a steep cliff above a fast-running river.
They kept going, Caleb nipping at the fellow’s ankles. He must have felt the ghost teeth because he moaned in terror as he tried to escape from the phantom wolf who drove him fartherand farther from the women.
The man crashed through the underbrush, then went headlongover the cliff edge, screaming as he plunged into water a hundred feet below.
QUINN stared at the spot where the soldier and the ghost wolf had disappeared.
“He’s gone.”
“Yes.” Zarah sat up and pushed her blond hair back. “I felt something. I couldn’t see it, but I knew the man was trying to ward off a ghost. He must have some talent to see specters.”
“And you used your talent with the flame to destroy his talisman,” Quinn finished for her.
“Yes. I have more power now that I’m pregnant.”
“Still, you could have gotten hurt. Or killed.”
“It was a calculated risk. We needed help. And a ghost seemed willing to aid us. But he couldn’t do it with the talismansapping the strength out of him.”
Quinn nodded in acknowledgment.
Zarah stared at her. “I couldn’t see him, but I felt . . . a ghost . . . werewolf.”
Quinn swallowed. “Yes.”
“Isn’t that something rare in this world?”
“Yes.”
Zarah kept her gaze on her friend. “One thing I sensed very strongly. He came to help you. How do you know him?”
“I met him the last time I came through the portal to this world.”