Rogue Belador: Belador book 7 (4 page)

“If you use this spell, you must hold Brina’s hand as you return from the dream realm. If not,
you
may end up sleeping forever.”

“I’m just going to have to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“Did you bring a pen?”

“Yes.” He handed the pen to her.

“Hold out your hand,” she ordered, all business when it came to majik.

When he did, Lanna drew a series of Cyrillic symbols in a circle with each symbol connecting. She looked up at him. “I will cast the spell as I push you into deep sleep, while you hold her hand. When you both are ready to return here, you must hold Brina’s same hand and repeat the chant as you leave the dream realm.”

He nodded, listened to the chant, and ran it back through his mind.

Take these words to heart and mind

From when our souls were first entwined

For you I share my life and memory

Take what you need and set your mind free

We go forth as one, so hold my hand

Share my knowledge of when we began.

“Tzader?”
Macha’s angry voice rolled through the castle, shaking the walls.

Ah, shit. It hadn’t been an hour, so why was the goddess calling him now? Didn’t matter. He was out of time. Tzader said, “Step aside, Lanna.”

When she did, Tzader stretched out next to Brina on the huge window seat and took her hand in his. Without opening her eyes, his beautiful warrior turned to him, the way she always did when her guard was down during sleep.

He turned to Lanna. “Put me under, fast.”

Lanna hesitated.

Macha’s voice called out, “
Tzader!”
The goddess would show up here if he didn’t go to her.

Tzader said, “Do it now, Lanna! And tell Macha you put me under by
my
orders, and that I intend to meet her in an hour.” He would not allow Lanna to take any blame for his actions. “Give me your word.”

“You have my word. Close your eyes.” Lanna lifted her hands above him and started chanting.

Power surged through the room in a rush so fast that Tzader felt Brina’s gown ruffle then settle. His stomach churned with anxiety. He had one last hope of fixing this mess.

Hard chills shook him at the rapid change in his physical body, which loosened, stretched, and reformed as he entered the dream world where Brina waited. He heard Macha’s voice once again, but it was distorted and losing volume.

He had to reach the dream realm and hope Lanna convinced Macha it would be unsafe to wake them while he was going under.

Chapter 4

“
I’m coming for you
,” a raspy voice whispered through the air, shaking the dregs of sleep from her mind. She sat up, blinking to clear her vision, and stood to figure out what was going on.

Why am I outside with the woods nearby?
Realization settled in as pieces began forming in her mind. She was in the dream world. Alone, except for the trees surrounding this peaceful clearing.

Who had spoken?

Wait.
For that matter, who am I?

She closed her eyes, thinking hard.
’Tis a simple question, brain.
Nothing came to her. Her fingers curled into tight fists while she waited, until her head ached from thinking so hard. Slowly, one truth became clear.

She could recall nothing.
Where are my memories?
Glancing around again, she recognized this spot as part of the dream world she always visited. But that was all. She knew this feeling of searching for memories and struggling through the frustration.

Start simple
. She’d come here for some reason. Why? Closing her eyes once more, she concentrated. Seconds ticked off as nothing came to her.

“I hate this!”

Her shout echoed briefly.

Then silence closed in on her once more.

What is wrong with me?
She opened her eyes and forced herself to stay calm. As she unfolded her fingers and went to brush the hair away from her face, she noticed ink on her palm. She moved her hand for a better look.

‘I am Brina’ had been written in block letters.

Brina.
That’s my name.
She knew that name. Her heart jumped at that gift and her mind perked up with that simple information. Images flashed by. Faces. Voices. Places. But nothing slowed down long enough to connect any pieces.

She must have imagined the whispered voice a moment ago, and now chuckled at herself as she thought it through.

I am Brina. This is the dream world
.
It bends to my will.

“Silly ninny. Some warrior you are,” she chided herself.

Warrior? She cocked her head in question. Yes, that sounded right, and this dream world was a safe haven.

Her muscles relaxed a little.

It was coming back to her. She came here to reclaim her memories and had just gained one on her own. She’d been reared a warrior.

You can’t escape your destiny
, snarled inside Brina’s mind this time.

She jerked around, searching for the owner of that eerie voice. Chills crawled up her spine.

Her vision blurred at the edges, then sharpened.

Fifty feet back, a shadow shaped like a person swept through the tall trees circling the clearing. She stood still in the ankle-deep grass. Her heartbeat raced.

Out of pure instinct, she called up a sword.

One appeared in midair right in front of her.

Grasping the hilt, she held the sword at ready and straightened her back, prepared for the threat. The feel of the balanced weapon steadied her pulse.

A memory formed in her mind. This sword had been crafted specifically for her. She recalled the day her da had gifted it to her.

She tightened her hold on the hilt in an effort to regain the memory and hold it. How bittersweet to have that memory return when so many others had abandoned her. That long ago day had been the last time she hugged her da before he and her brothers marched off to battle and never returned.

Her da had told her to be strong.

To protect the others.

She frowned. Who
were
the others?

Panic chipped away at her confidence. No. She would not lose the battle with her mind. Inhaling the fresh air deeply to calm herself further, she scanned the woods again. Nothing moved. Cotton-white clouds floated overhead through the blue skies. Leaves stirred, tossed gently by a breeze.

Where was the shadow that had moved within the trees?

Had she imagined the whole thing?

“Stop actin’ like a scared rabbit,” she muttered. “See? Nothin’ moves in the woods. Keep a clear head, and all will be normal again. My memories will return and I’ll...”

The wind whipped briskly across the carpet of grass now. Leaves chattered against each other in tall trees that suddenly swayed with one strong gust after another. The sky turned dark and ominous within a blink. Thunder rumbled, threatening to unload bloated clouds the color of pewter.

“As the last Treoir, you will pay for your family’s sins,”
the creepy voice called through Brina’s mind.

She gripped her sword tighter and searched for the enemy, but paused at that new slip of information that brought up a thought. Treoirs were powerful warriors who lived in a castle on an island.

That was good.

Was she really the last one?

Not so good.

But maybe none of that was true. The person behind that voice could be trying to trick her.

Addressing the woods and anyone in there, she announced, “I will not be intimidated by a spineless shadow. Be done with your bloody shenanigans. This is
my
dream. I do not want you here.”

The faceless figure of the dark shadow appeared again and skittered quickly through the forest. Two more shadows joined that one, moving in a crisscross pattern. Then another. Dark, wispy shapes darted all around the tree trunks. Not one or two shadows, but twenty. Maybe thirty.

Or were they all the same one?

“Show yourself!” Brina ordered, raising her sword. How would she battle a shadow?
With my powers.

That thought cheered her for a fleeting moment.

What powers did she possess, if any?

Howling erupted in the woods, then the shadows suddenly stopped wherever they were, scattered among the tree trunks.

What now?

Energy swirled between her and the woods. A prone body began to materialize on the ground twenty feet in front of her. Human in shape, it appeared to be a man.

He sat up and shook his head as if he’d had his bell rung. He was a handsome bastard, with beautiful dark brown skin covering powerful arms, and a bold chest that stretched his black T-shirt. She found his smooth head as sexy as the carved lips that twitched with unspoken thoughts.

This was not someone you called pretty.

A voice from the woods called out,
“We will have your blood and your castle!”

Her head snapped up. One minute the voice was in her head and the next it was all around her.

The shadows started moving again, but toward her this time. Their faces took on shape and dimension.

The man on the ground pushed to his feet, smiling as if he’d heard nothing.

Didn’t he at least see that horde closing in on her?

As the shadows emerged from the woods, physical details formed. Each one had rich brown skin and dark eyes. None had hair on their smooth scalps. They were all built like Spartan warriors and wore the same black T-shirt and jeans as the man now standing between her and the horde.

They looked just like him, except they were translucent and he was solid. Was this his army?

The sky changed swiftly back to a rich hue of blue. Had
he
done that?

She swallowed, preparing to face them all. No, she had a better idea. Leave this dream world now, but how? It wasn’t as though she’d fall asleep standing in the middle of an attack.

The shadows now carried swords with strange triangular emblems. As one, they lifted their weapons and continued to approach.

Her palms dampened and her pulse skyrocketed.

A shiny sword identical to the ones carried by the shadows stabbed the ground at the man’s feet.

He froze and looked up, shocked. “Brina?”

Chapter 5

Tzader watched Brina as he would a wild animal about to attack. She held the deadly sword her father had given her and looked ready to use it, in spite of wearing a deep aqua gown that hugged her pretty curves. “What’s going on, Brina?”

Her eyes flicked past him, then back to his face.

He slowly looked over his shoulder. Nothing there.

When he turned back, Brina pointed her sword at him. “I will not die without drawing blood.”

That wasn’t a wild look in her eyes. It was terror and confusion. What gripped her mind now?

Tzader kept his voice soft. “You know me. I’m Tzader. I don’t want to fight you. Please put the sword down.”

Her eyes kept moving back and forth. “No.”

“Why are you holding a sword?” Tzader asked.

“What game are you playin’? You think I don’t see your army?” she asked with no give in her voice.

Oh shit
. “Not my army, Brina. I love you. I would never harm you.”

“Love me? Who are you to be sayin’ such things? You think to trick me?” She swung her sword left then right, as if preparing for a battle.

With an army her mind had conjured.

This was worse than last time in the dream world with her.

She swung her sword in a liquid movement so like his warrior princess back when they used to spar. Before she became the warrior queen and carried a world of responsibility on her narrow shoulders.

Damn it. Her gaze still tracked something moving in the woods. The army she thought he’d brought here?

Or could there be a real threat he had yet to see? He doubted it. Not in the dream world where she had far more control over her power than even he had here. But the muscles in her arms tensed, ready to fight something.

He had to bring her back to him. There was no way to know how long Macha would hold off. He pushed power into his voice. “Look at me, Brina.”

She jerked her head around, staring at him now.

He asked, “Tell me what you see and I’ll help you fight it.”

“You think I’m that easily swayed?”

He had to be careful how he replied. “No, but
they
may be tricking you, and I might be your only ally here.”

She swung her gaze back to the woods and her mouth opened. “Where did ...”

Finally. Whatever she’d seen must have vanished. He said, “It wasn’t real.”

Turning to him once more, she gave him a measured look. “But you are.”

He didn’t like the suspicious sound of that. “You know me, Brina.”

“You keep sayin’ that.” She studied him harder. “Your face and name are vaguely familiar, but ... I still don’t know if you be friend or foe.”

His heart dropped to his feet.

Until the past few days, he’d been able to talk his way past her dementia and disorientation, but the day before yesterday he’d spent a half hour just hunting her as she hid from him. They’d argued until he’d grabbed her arm when she tried to walk away. She’d turned back, swinging, but held up at the last second. With that touch, she began recalling bits and pieces until she’d finally walked into his arms.

Yesterday, he’d come upon her arguing with unseen opponents, but she had not called up a sword as she had today.

With a wave of her free hand, the gown she’d been wearing disappeared, replaced by jeans, a loose shirt, and lightweight boots.

Her normal attire for sparring.

Was this a positive change or not?

Her waist-length red hair snatched light like polished copper as it wove itself into a braid down her back.

She looked like the young woman who had stolen his heart in this glade. He smiled at the memory.

“You find this amusin’?” she asked, clearly not happy.

“I like your outfit,” he replied, tiptoeing around each word.

“’Tis easier to battle without trippin’ on a blasted hem.”

He held his hands up in surrender. “Like I said, I’m not here to fight you.”

“You think to have me lowerin’ my guard until your army returns?”

“Think for a minute, Brina. I’m here alone. You know me. You chose this place to visit in the dream world because it’s
ours
.”

Confusion clouded her gaze. Her sword tip dipped an inch. She was at least considering his words.

He pressed his case. “We’ve spent a lot of time in this very spot.”

“Doin’ what?” she asked.

Now that was a tricky question. If he told her they’d made love here, would it trigger her memories, or cause her to doubt him if she
didn’t
remember?

He’d won more battles by going on the offensive.

Tzader reached down and tapped the pommel of the sword stuck in the ground. “We sparred.” They’d do that back on the real Treoir Island for long periods, then end up tumbling into each other’s arms. He took a chance and added, “Sometimes we wore fewer clothes.”

She smiled.

His heart tilted, wanting to be happy at that sign, but he waited.

Lifting a hand, she pointed at him and his T-shirt vanished. “Feel better now?” she asked.

He grinned. Yep, a very positive sign. Now they were getting somewhere. “Actually, it was even better when we both—”

Her gaze jerked back to the woods.

No, please no.

All humor fled her face, replaced by a fierce glare she turned on him. “You liar! You play with me then call back your army.” She raised her sword and advanced, slashing at her invisible opponent.

Tzader’s knives hissed and clicked in response to her swinging that wicked blade as she moved toward him. He spit out old Gaelic, ordering his knives to stand down. Both blades quieted, but Brina was coming closer. “Brina, stop. There’s nothing there.”

~*~*~

Twice as many shadow versions of this man, Tzader, had returned. They rushed Brina one at a time.

She fought furiously, striking each shadow’s sword and blocking a hit, but never feeling a solid resistance even though she could hear metal clash with metal. Keeping track of their leader in her peripheral vision, she fought hard, slashing back and forth. Every time she made a clean strike, the shadow burst into tiny gray pieces that rained to the ground.

Another one attacked her. A third one wound its filmy hands around her neck and tightened its grip, strangling her. This would be a good time for those powers her memory had hinted at, if only she knew what she could do to these things. More waited in the forest.

Was Tzader calling them one at a time to wear her down?

She clawed at the hand clamped around her throat, wielding her sword with one hand. Anger rode her hard until power ripped from her. It blasted toward the woods, smashing shadows that stood in the way. But more stepped into the empty spots and waited.

For what?

She’d fought her way over to Tzader.

He stood there, staring at her as if he could see inside her mind.
Good luck finding anything there
. Still, his face and name stirred something deep in the recesses of her mind.

Who was he?

This was the dream world. Why couldn’t she push her power out again and make him and the rest of his army hovering among the trees go away?

She wished for that with all her might. Nope. That one burst had happened all on its own.

Why was this happening? What did this man want?

Still, Tzader stood there without moving a muscle. He hadn’t lifted the sword. He’d made no attempt to harm her, but all the shadow soldiers wore his face. At this rate, confusion would beat her to a pulp.

She let out a weary breath and asked Tzader, “What are you doin’ here?”

“I always come for you here. I was here yesterday, the day before, and the day before. We’ve been doing this for many weeks. I’m here to remind you who I am and who you are. I’m here to help bring your memories back.”

Her heart thumped at his words. Were they true or was this some hoax? Should she lay down her sword and trust him?

The shadow soldiers sucked in closer, murmuring. She listened, sorting out words until she heard, “Give up. All is lost. Treoir castle is mine.”

Those shadows belonged to him, and they were moving in as one unit this time. She didn’t bloody care who Tzader was anymore.

If she cut him down, would his army vanish?

Her mind might have doubts, but her body knew exactly what to do. She swung her sword to attack.

And look at that.

He dodged, and the shadows started receding. She’d made the right decision.

For a man of Tzader’s muscular build, he surprised her with lightning-fast reflexes. He snatched up his sword with a curse, and blocked her next strike.

He met every swing of her blade, blocking with enough force that her teeth shook. Battling felt good, felt right. Her body had been dormant too long. Getting in better physical shape had to help her mind, but at the moment she was breathing hard.

Why? What did she do with her days if not train?

On the other hand, what training could she have been doing in that stupid gown?

How was she to know? She couldn’t recall anything at will, but she’d had a fleeting vision of growing up in a castle when she’d heard the name Treoir.

She remembered this location, too, where a giant oak stood above a thick forest surrounding a lake, but not why this spot felt so important to her.

With a new surge of energy, she continued her attack, and it struck her that Tzader had yet to take an aggressive action. He could clearly handle a weapon. Out of nowhere, a memory flickered of fighting this same man ... but with a younger face and a cut body, though not as beefed up.

Not fighting, but sparring.

She stumbled at the realization, and he pulled back.

Brina warned, “Lower your guard again and I’ll not be apologizin’ for drawin’ blood.”

“You never have.” His eyes twinkled, taking attractive up to devastating. He was enjoying this?

She knew him and recalled practicing this way. Tzader had acted as if he hadn’t seen the shadows. A sick thought churned her insides. Had she been hallucinating? That would be one step worse than having no memories.

Swinging right, then left, her blade clashed with his.

More images came to mind, of sparring in
this place
with him, but had that been in this dream world?

Was he a friend after all?

He challenged her for two steps, always careful not to make a deadly hit.

Her next strike surprised him. She expected anger.

He grinned and acknowledged her expertise with a nod.

The tension in her chest eased. Her lips twitched with a smile. She felt more alive than she had ... in a long time. Yes, she
had
done this before, and with him. Her attack changed to practiced moves, because she began to sense truth in his words.

She hoped she was not being a fool, but she wanted to believe he could help her.

Tzader met every swing, strike for strike, still never fully using the power in those massive biceps.

He hadn’t even broken a sweat. He toyed with her, and though she didn’t remember how she’d gained the skill, she was no pushover with a sword.

Tzader moved with the agility and confidence of one who had fought many battles, and won.

The more she sparred with him, the less she wanted to harm any of that smooth, ebony skin. She stumbled, more fatigued than she’d realized. She should have been paying attention instead of looking at the handsome man.

At her falter, his demeanor changed in a flash. His voice came barreling out with an edge of irritation. “Stop, Brina. I understand you’re frustrated, but—”

She scoffed, cutting him off. He thought he knew what she was going through?
Try living with no mind to call up the simplest things.
Swinging again, she struck hard, and he blocked her. No mind, no energy, and no patience.

She snarled, “What do you know about frustration?”

Tzader blocked her next swing. “You of all people should know better than to ask me that. I—” He parried, spinning and moving faster, too fast for her to get a decent strike on him.

She had her own supply of irritation. “What, Tzader? You say you know me. What do you know that you think I should?”

He lost his smile. “Never mind.”

“No!” she shouted, driving him back and striking harder with each word. “You will tell me what it is I should know.”

With one mighty swing, he knocked her sword flying and chucked his to go with hers.

Glory to the gods, he was furious, deadly and magnificent. His deep voice shook when he told her, “That I waited four years to be with the woman I love, then I watched her disappear after being attacked with Noirre majik, with no idea when she’d come back.” By the time he took a breath, he was grinding out his words. “Now you don’t even know me.”