After she had dressed in a pair of slacks and a lightweight sweater set off by a soft scarf, Gabrielle joined Katrina in the living room. The house seemed pleasant, quiet. It gave her a feeling of security. She wasn't sure why, but she felt isolated from the madness here, perhaps because it was a home. Katrina's marriage had worked out, and this house was like a fortress, not a rented, temporary place.
As she sat across from Katrina, she used her hand to try to straighten her hair, which she knew was growing frizzy from lack of attention. Maybe there would be time soon to attempt to put herself back together. If Danube could succeed in shutting down the magical assaults, sanity would be restored.
The soft flutter of the rain against the windows was at last soothing instead of threatening. Gab sat in a chair by the window, pulling her legs up in front of her and hugging them with her arms.
When she had been a child, rain had been dreaded, depressing, a sign that she would be confined within the walls of the house. Today it was a bromide. She let her head fall against the back of the chair as she watched drops clinging to the glass.
A feeling akin to complacency settled over her. She felt relieved, even with her home burned down and all of her belongings gone. Heaven was resting, and they were both alive.
That might not be all that she could hope for, but it was a starting point. They would put their lives back together. She would get things back on track at work.
She would have to let Althea work with Heaven. Healing the wounds and working away the scar tissue would take time, but the climb out of this would be possible.
The rustle in the hallway made her look up, and she saw Katrina entering the room, two mugs of coffee in hand.
"I thought you were keeping a vigil," Gab said. "She's sleeping, and I figured I'd better check on my other patient."
Gab accepted her cup. "So I'm under your care also.”
“Yep. I'm keeping an eye on you too."
"I've just been sitting here trying to think of what I want to do with my life. Maybe I should go somewhere else."
"Where would you go?"
"A tropical island maybe."
"You suppose a tropical island would be as romantic as you imagine, do you?"
"Probably not. I guess I've always fancied the notion of traveling to romantic places."
"I can't say as I blame you for thinking about escape just now."
"I guess you've spotted the psychological trigger for the fantasy. I'm worried about Heaven, so I want to go far away and start over."
“Not a bad idea."
"Maybe that's what I should have done, if not after Dave at least after Martin. Then I might have been out of range when he decided to play games. Maybe Heaven could have been spared all this.”
“Don't start that, blaming yourself. It won't change anything. It'll only make you start feeling bad, and that's what he wanted. No way could you have known some man was going to come up with this kind of craziness. Hell, I still hardly believe it. I keep
thinkin
' we're all gonna wake up."
"I wish I could."
~*~
Simon sat calmly in Althea's passenger seat as she guided the car through traffic. He no longer had to threaten or warn. She was headed, without hesitation, toward the house where Gabrielle and Heaven were sequestered.
Entry would be easy. They would welcome Althea and her promise of guidance and healing, not knowing he was close behind.
He would offer guidance, but it would be his own form. He reached beneath the folds of his coat and extracted a small, thick crystal sliver. It was not powerful, but when he whispered a few soft words it began to glow somewhere within.
Like a burning diamond, it flared, reflecting a rainbow of light across his features as he peered into it. In the depths of the stone, bouncing around the edges he could see Gabrielle as she spoke about faraway places.
He found the confirmation he was seeking. She was unsuspecting, believing that her situation was improving. She was trusting Danube to rid her world of magic, and she was not expecting any further disturbance. Danube had banished one demon, so foolishly she believed the worst was over.
The sorcerer had to laugh. Let her believe that. It was almost ironic. She wanted to travel, and he was going to take her on a trip. She wanted exotic locales, well, there wasn't any place that could be more exotic.
~*~
The image began to melt through the gray burlap that covered Danube's pain. It was an image of . . .
Suffering
.
Pain
.
Not his own. He'd felt the suffering from the beginning, from that day on the hillside.
It was hot, dust swirling in the wind, and the smell that swept down from the tortured body tainted with the sick smell of decay and infection. He saw the agony on that face, and suddenly the eyes looked down at him.
He still remembered. He had thought it was in accusation, a gaze of blame. Instead now, through his own pain, it was different. He saw something else in the eyes. It was a look not of anger or scorn. Though blurred by pain the eyes showed understanding.
The message that had been pumped into his subconscious was not condemnatory. He had not been charged with seeking redemption, because that had always been afforded him.
His charge was a special responsibility, and that had throbbed at the back of his being, tearing him apart when he had resisted, driving him when he had finally made his journey into the mountains. As he looked up into those eyes, he saw that it was not atonement that was expected from him. Only that he fulfill his responsibility, the promise he had made to the sisters, the promise he had made to himself. He was to struggle against evils and injustice. To carry on.
Slowly, his consciousness began to re-form out of the grim haze that gripped him. He could not die here in this mockery of the other's suffering. He could not perish because he was still needed. The sorcerer could not be allowed to succeed. He was attempting to perform acts not meant to be achieved. If the mage was allowed to continue, he would unravel the fabric of existence prematurely. It was not yet time.
Danube was here because the culmination could not be allowed. He was in place to stand against the darkness. If only he could manage to fulfill that plan. He came to full consciousness, the pain in his hands making him aware of reality. The nails had bitten deeply into the wood, the force of the mechanism driving them into place.
His hands were fastened against the boards with no leverage or leeway. It was difficult to move them in the slightest and that movement caused pain so acute it brought tears to his eyes and sent charges up his arms.
A long moan escaped his lips, and bile churned up his esophagus. How had this been endured? He had not been scourged, had not hauled his instrument of torture through jeering crowds; yet this was almost unbearable.
Surrender would be so easy. Surely now death could find him. Rest at last would come. If only he could relax. If only he could shut out the pain.
That was not allowed, however. He had to get free. Heaven and Gabrielle were vulnerable, and they were dependent on him. No one could face Simon alone. His magic was too powerful, and Danube had not yet discerned all he intended. He only knew it had to be horrible.
Clenching his teeth and shutting his eyes tightly, he forced himself to move his hands. As the agony quivered through his palms, he felt the slight movement.
It was the worst pain he had ever known—fire and ice blending—but he felt the nails wiggle in the wood. He was undermining their grip.
He cursed and cried out, but he did not stop. Pain pounded into his brain, threatening to send him back into unconsciousness, but he willed his thoughts to work around it, to keep him alert.
Tears streaked out the corners of his eyes, and the pressure of the excess blood in his head made his arteries feel as if they were going to burst. He could sense that his temples were bulging.
And still he wiggled his hands. New trickles of blood escaped from his punctured palms and dripped down his thumbs, forming puddles on the concrete floor.
Sweat beaded on his forehead and soaked into his scalp, and he could feel it congealing on his chest beneath his clothing. His new raincoat held heat in, making his body temperature its own enemy.
He had to stop his efforts before the pain's intensity sent him into oblivion. He was breathing heavily, his lungs struggling for each difficult gasp. In his unusual position his muscles seemed confused and uncertain of how to function.
He tried to look at his torn hands, but he could not see them, not with his vision blurred by tears and his brain in confusion.
He told himself to concentrate on the wind trying to wear away a stone. Patience, he told himself. An eternity might pass, but he had to continue.
~*~
"Mommy thinks maybe it's about to be over," Gabrielle whispered.
"Our house burned up?" Heaven asked.
"It did, but we're all right. That's the main thing.”
“Was it my fault?"
"No. Somebody did it to hurt Mommy. Mr. Danube has gone out to try to talk to the man so he'll leave us alone."
"Will that work?"
"Uh-hum. Mommy just didn't think about who might be so angry at her before. Now that Mr. Danube knows who to talk to, everything will be fine. He'll make the
Gnelfs
go away.”
"We'll have to get all new stuff."
Heaven seemed to brighten at that prospect. To her, new stuff was good. It wasn't yet real to her that you had to come up with the money for it.
"We'll go shopping soon," Gabrielle said.
"Can we buy new toys?"
"We'll get new toys," Gabrielle said, smiling. "Lots of new toys."
At least Heaven was now worrying about the things a five-year-old was supposed to worry about. A shaky, shimmering image of stability crept into Gabrielle's thoughts. She could see Heaven entering grade school, following through to junior high, high school.
She could see her dating boys and finding true love and marrying and having children, making her mother a grandmother. That was just fine. Aging didn't bother Gabrielle. She would grow old without protest, dammit, if her child would just be allowed to live peacefully again.
She stroked Heaven's hair and smiled softly. There was no need for words. The communion of silence was enough. Heaven knew how much she loved her. Love flowed through them both, manifesting itself in the invisible vibrations which passed between them.
Wrapping her arms around the child, she held her, pressing her cheek against Heaven's soft, golden hair and whispering gentle words that said nothing and everything.
The sound of a car pulling into the driveway broke the moment. Gab pulled back and placed her 'hands on Heaven's shoulders.
"Sounds like Althea's here."
"I'll go get her," Katrina said. "I'm sure she's ready to examine
y'all's
heads."
"Examine our heads?" Heaven asked, dimples forming as she smiled at the thought.
Katrina nodded, an exaggerated frown on her face, before slipping into the hallway.
~*~
The front room needs vacuuming, Katrina decided as she walked from the hallway on her way to the front door. She would undertake that while Althea was with Gabrielle and Heaven. The Kirby unit her husband, had purchased from the door-to-door salesman was quiet enough to allow that, since they would be down the hall.
When the doorbell rang, she already had her hand on the knob. Turning it, she eased the door open. When she saw Althea on the doorstep, she said, "Hi." A moment passed before she realized the woman in front of her was not reaching for the hand she'd extended.
The stark, empty look in Althea's eyes issued a warning that something was wrong, but before Kat could react, the man was through the door. He had been standing just to Althea's side, out of sight, until his hand had shot forward, pushing the door farther open, and he'd slipped past.
Katrina grabbed for his arm and missed. He was moving toward her in an instant. His face seemed harsh, full of madness. She attempted to move backward, but stumbled, and he grabbed for her. Her hands shot up, pushing his arms away. Her left hand managed to reach his face, and she dragged her fingernails down the pale flesh of his cheek, leaving red streaks in his skin.
She saw the blood before the realization that she had drawn it touched her, and then she moaned softly. The man only grinned and pressed his hand against her forehead. Needles of sharp agony throbbed into her brain, and she felt her eyes closing against her will.
She tried to protest, to struggle, but there was no time. Before she could offer any real opposition, she was headed for the floor.
~*~
The feeling that something was wrong hit Gabrielle while there was still silence in the front room. By the time she heard something heavy strike the floor, she had Heaven in her arms.
Rushing through the doorway, she headed along the hall. She would go out the back door and run until she found some place of refuge, perhaps a church or some other place where the evil might be kept at bay while they waited for Danube to find them and dispel the dark magic.