Retribution (39 page)

Quin curiously looked over as Layla floated from the ground, and when she looked down, he looked down, laying eyes on her abnormal heart rate. Vanishing his coffee and sandwich, he placed one hand on her back and the other on her chest, trying to count the beats while keeping track of real time in his head, but he'd never felt such a rapid heart rate.

“Serafin,” he shouted, pulling Layla into his arms as he knelt.
 

Serafin jolted then dropped to one knee beside them, replacing Quin's hand with his own.
 

Quin turned his attention to Layla's face, which was scared and perplexed, but not pained. “Talk to me, love. Are you hurt?”

“No,” she answered. “Nothing hurts. It just feels weird. I'm scared it's going to explode or something.”

Her grandmothers and Cordelia gasped, and Quin tightened his hold on her, touching a forefinger to her lips. “We won't let that happen.” He looked at Serafin. “Well?”

Serafin shook his head, his hands moving along Layla’s torso and neck. “I don't know, Quin. Everything's working great.”

“Obviously not!”

“There's nothing wrong,” Serafin insisted, retracing his path. “Her heart's in perfect shape, her arteries and veins are handling the pressure magnificently, and it isn’t affecting her respiratory system.”

“That's not possible,” Quin argued.

“I know,” Serafin countered, removing his hand from her chest, “but if you don't believe me, check for yourself. I can't find anything wrong.”

Quin closed his eyes and reached for her heart, recalling everything he'd learned about the human body and its functions. For several minutes he searched and searched again, but he didn't find anything odd save for the unexplained heart rate and the fact that it wasn't affecting the rest of her body. Her lungs were somehow keeping up with the increased blood flow, yet they remained steady in their search for air. It didn't make any sense. And why in the hell was her heart racing? She was remarkably calm considering the situation.

He scanned her face, finding it flushed from the blood rushing beneath her skin, but other than that, it was perfect. “Do you have any idea what's going on, Layla?”

“Not a clue,” she answered.

He looked to Serafin. “What should we do?”

“What can we do?” Serafin returned. “There's nothing to fix.”

Quin growled and shook his head. Then he checked his temper and looked at Layla. “Can you try to master it? For me? I can't take this. Maybe nothing's wrong, but it's scaring the hell out of me. Use magic to slow it down.” He looked at Serafin. “Be ready to intervene if she goes too far.”

Layla took his tense jaw in her palm as she closed her eyes, and a few seconds later he felt her heart rate receding. She took her time, steadily slowing down the overwrought organ, and she didn’t stop until he sighed and relaxed.

“How do you feel?” he asked, moving his hand from her heart to her cheek.

“I'm fine, Quin. I have been this whole time.” She shifted, pulling his face closer to hers. “Please stop worrying so much.”

“No.” He kissed her forehead while throwing Serafin a turbulent look. “So are we just going to pretend this didn't happen?”

“I don't know what to do about it,” Serafin answered. “Like you said, it isn’t possible, so how are we supposed to compare it to another case? I have no explanation for what happened, and I can't even begin to imagine why it happened. It's as though her heart was acting as a separate entity, like it has a mind of its own and can operate with or without the rest of her organs. It's unheard of, so I have no solutions.”

“I hate not knowing,” Quin simmered.

“Hey,” Layla whispered, pulling his attention around. “Please stop. I'm fine. Everything's fine.”

Quin shook his head as he tightened his hold on her and stood. Everything was
not
fine, but since he didn’t know what to do about it and she was fretting over him, he dropped the subject and summoned a chair. He sat and made her comfortable on his lap. Then he laid a hand over her heart, his gaze flipping between her face and aura.

Layla sighed and summoned her coffee, but as soon as the mug filled her palm, it disappeared. She looked at her empty hand in confusion then raised her eyes to Quin.

“No,” he whispered, his jaw achingly tight.

“No what?” she asked.

“No coffee,” he answered.

Her eyes widened as her mouth fell open. “What?”

“Not right now.”

“Quin.”

“No.”

“But…”

“Please, Layla. Just wait a while.”

“Fine,” she huffed.

He stretched the tension out of his muscles then took the back of her neck, bringing her closer. “Please don't be mad at me, love. I'm a mess right now. Just give me and your heart a rest. Then you can have your coffee.”

Her frustration melted away as she stared into his eyes. Then she ran her fingers into his hair and pulled him into a kiss. “I'm not mad. I don't need the coffee.”

“I'm sorry,” he whispered, hating himself for taking away something she loved.

“Don't be.” She summoned her toast and laid her head on his shoulder. “I understand why, and I’m okay with it. Now eat something. That's my request.”

He kissed her curls. “Thank you.”

“Blah,” she mumbled, waving a hand. “Eat.”

He obeyed, summoning his sandwich. Then he looked at Drystan, who'd been standing there in shocked silence the entire time. “Who's taking your place?”

Drystan smoothed his expression and cleared his throat. “Kearny.”

“Is there anything else to report?”

“No.”

“Sorry you had to be the bearer of bad news.”

“I'm sorry I couldn't give you better, Quin.”

“I know.”

They shrugged at each other. Then Drystan headed for Alana, who was being entertained by Brietta and Kegan.

Quin called Kearny over and concealed him from his chair. “Let's cut the shifts in half. We need to stay up to speed on Agro's activity, so come back around two.”

“Will do,” Kearny agreed. Then they felt a whoosh of air and knew he was gone.

Quin popped the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth then laid a hand over Layla's heart, which pulsed at a normal rate. “We need to finalize our plans and take control of the situation,” he said, looking at their golden family. “If Agro's going to make his move tomorrow night, we need to make ours tomorrow afternoon. The army we’ve gathered will be useless if we're not organized and ready when he moves in.”

“Yes,” Kemble agreed. “We have a busy day ahead of us.”

“So what's first?” Quin asked, once again counting Layla's heartbeats – within three beats of the last exam.

“Let's start with a trip to the volunteers' clearing,” Serafin suggested, “see who we have to work with. We can't form a plan without knowing a little about the people who’ll help us carry it out.”

“That works,” Quin agreed. “We need to set new passwords anyway.”

He stood from his chair then lowered Layla’s feet to the ground, summoning a sliced and peeled apple and a glass of milk. He passed them to Layla before opening his arm for her, and she tucked into his side while nibbling her fruit. “I need to conceal the community guards,” he said, looking at his dad. “Then we'll go.”

Kemble gave a nod, and Quin walked away, an angel under his arm… and the weight of her life on his shoulders.

Chapter 28

When Quin and Layla arrived at the clearing near Mount Hood, ten magicians hovered above it, accompanied by Weylin and his father Conan, who was as big as his son.

Quin and Layla revealed their bodies while keeping their auras and bonded lights concealed. Then his parents and her grandparents followed suit.

“What's going on?” Quin asked.

Weylin floated closer as he explained. “We can't get in; don't have the morning's password. They showed up about thirty minutes ago,” he added, motioning to the ten people behind him.

Quin and Layla peered at the nervous group, who returned their stares with wide eyes. “Sorry about that,” Quin offered, hugging Layla to his body as he approached them. He went around and shook their hands, but his firm hold on Layla kept her from performing the same courtesy. “I'm Quin. It's my fault you've had to wait.”
 

The eldest wizard in the group moved forward, speaking for all of them. “Not a problem, young man. I'm Allan, and these are members of my coven. We've come from Florida to join your cause.”

Quin pulled Layla with him as he dropped onto the land shield and placed a palm on its surface. “We're glad you have.”

“Aren’t there others who’ve answered your call?” Allan asked, scanning the glade below. “If not, there’s no reason to let us in. We were under the impression an army was gathering.”

Quin nodded as he thought about the password – a quote from the song, "Ae Fond Kiss
"
 by Robert Burns:
“But to see her was to love her, love but her, and love her forever.”
 

Once the words had formed in his head, the surface beneath his hand turned to fog and drifted apart until a large hole had opened up.

Voices rose from within, and Allan looked down into the clearing, which was abundant with tents, fires and magicians. “I guess my concern was unnecessary.”

“I wouldn't say that,” Quin countered, “but it does ease the heart to see such a sight.”

The rest of the newcomers gasped as they glanced through the hole, and Allan looked at Quin. “Yes it does. Perhaps Agro will finally pay for his wicked ways.”

Quin pulled Layla with him as he straightened and took a step back. “I'll accept nothing less than his life as penance.”

Allan smiled. “Then we're on the same page.”

“Good to hear,” Quin approved, motioning toward the hole. “Go and make yourselves comfortable. There are friends of ours down there who'll provide you with everything you need. They'll approach you as soon as you land.”

“Thank you,” Allan said, shaking Quin's hand again. Then he and his family dropped into the foggy opening.

Quin searched out Conan's mind, giving him the current password as well as the afternoon's – a quote by Aristotle: “Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.”
Quin asked him to convey it to the other guards, and Conan flew away.
 

“What's new, Wey?” Quin asked, keeping Layla tucked into his side. He'd been checking her heart rate every five minutes since the odd episode on their lawn.

“I'm glad you asked,” Weylin replied. “Seal that hole and I'll fill you in.”

Quin waved a hand, and the fog sealed then disappeared, putting an end to the chatter rising from the crowd below. “What's going on?” he asked, looking at Weylin.

“A group of mercenaries showed up last night.”

Quin's eyebrows furrowed as his tension spiked. “How many?”

“Twenty-five.”

“Did you talk to them?”

“Yes. I spoke with their leader, a wizard by the name of Sloan, no last name. He was closemouthed about everything; says they were paid to be here, but it stopped there. I have no idea who paid them or why. We weren't sure what you’d want us to do, but figured it would be better to keep them and have to get rid of them later, than to get rid of them and need them later.”

Quin absently nodded while trying to consider every angle the mercenaries might be working. His parents and Layla's grandparents contemplated the same thing, and Caitrin was the first to comment. “This could be a dangerous situation.”

“Yes,” Quin mumbled, looking at Weylin. “He said they were paid to be here? Those words exactly?”

“Yeah,” Weylin answered. “Why do you ask?”

“So he didn't mention anything about fighting the Unforgivables?”

“No.”

Kemble scanned Quin’s aura as he floated closer. “Do you really think that's possible, Quinlan?”

“I have to tell you, dad, the word impossible is losing meaning with me.”

“What am I missing?” Weylin asked. “What do you think the mercenaries’ purpose is?”

“There are a few possibilities,” Serafin answered, throwing a glance at Quin. “They might be on a sabotage mission, paid to make sure our side doesn't win. Or they could be on a plunder mission. With this many magicians gathered, there are treasures among them, particularly since they're gathering with the knowledge they may die. Many are carrying their most prized possessions. A group of twenty-five mercenaries is expensive, but there are more than enough riches in this clearing to compensate the investor.” He paused, his sorrowful stare sliding to his granddaughter. “Then there's the possibility they're seeking something far more valuable than possessions.”

Weylin’s eyes widened. “You think they know about her?”

“Me?” Layla asked, pointing to herself.

“Yes,” Serafin answered, “you.”

“But how?”

“The same way others have found out,” Quin answered. “Finley told us there was a threat bigger than Agro. We’d be fools not to give his claim weight.”

“But that means everyone down there could be looking for me.”