The queen smiled. “Ever the loyal one, perhaps careless is a strong word, but it is a tale we don’t have time to discuss just now. Off to your wizard. I want my princess safely returned to me—and I want the Dark Prince captured.”
Morgan LeBlanc placed his arm around his son’s shoulder, and as Chance looked into his father’s face, so much like his own, he sighed. “Da … I must get to her—
I must!
”
“I know, son, and so ye shall.”
* * *
So many spells—and so many long put aside lessons wobbled about in Royce’s mind. She had to sift through them and find the right one. But how? If only she had paid more attention when the instructions had been handed out. If only she had practiced more.
Royce screamed with frustration as she attempted to single out the one ancient Danu spell that would allow her to use the Peckering in this dimension, which would in turn allow the Peckering to get her back to her time.
“He is going to hurt David and his family …” she whined as she shook the Peckering with one hand and ran the other through her hair.
“I am afraid so, Princess, and now it may be too late to stop him. You must face the inevitable—he has had a
long
head start.”
“Even so, I might be able to get there in time …”
“He has the Dark King’s Daoine blood, but I sensed he is not as powerful as you simply because he has descended into darkness. Dark never is stronger than light—it simply obscures the way.”
“But I can’t find the spell … I can’t find it …”
Too late
, Royce thought. The Peckering was correct—it was already
too late
. He could have already hurt her human family, and it was all her fault. She had led the Dark Prince right to them, and then … she had been
too stupid
to figure out how to stop him!
As though giving truth to this thought, Pestale returned and stood before her—gloating and looking as evil as anything beautiful could look.
Hurriedly she sent her Peckering off and out of his reach. He should not be able to take the Peckering from her, but she decided to take a safe course.
“Now, Princess … shall I show you what I have done?” Pestale said triumphantly, moving his finger across the stone wall at her back.
She spun around to face the wall. Her heart ached and her mind began reeling as she saw, as though watching a movie, the humans on the makeshift screen writhe as they were
tortured.
He showed her David at first playing. His mother laughed as she called his name and started outdoors towards him. And then everything turned into abject horror right before her eyes.
She heard their screams of pain. She saw David’s father rush out, and he too was lit on fire. She watched them engulfed in huge flames, and Royce bent in on herself as she cried out, “Noooo … oh nooo …”
Pestale snapped his fingers, removed the scene he had just displayed for her, grabbed her shoulders, and shook her. “Listen to me, Princess. I saw them delivered to one of their human hospitals. They are unconscious now from the drugs they have been given. But they will wake up, and they will remember what they suffered, what
they still suffer
. I can remove the memory. I can heal them—all of them—but now you must cooperate with me.”
“You will heal them … make their pain stop—take away the memory of it?” She sobbed, unable to think.
“Yes, but it will take a great deal of effort on my part. I need a boon from you first. I need for you to accept me—
all of me
—as your mate. I am who I am, but I promise you, beauty, I will make you love me. Take my hand and vow to me that you will be mine.”
“Yes … yes, anything … only heal them.” She pounded on his bare chest, tears rolling freely down her cheeks.
“I want your vow in blood … so that it cannot be broken even if at some later date should you wish to break your vow—you will be unable to. The blood will bind you to me.”
“I will make any vow your wish and in my blood … on my life … anything—only heal them!” she snapped. She wasn’t thinking straight; she knew she wasn’t thinking straight. She had to get control of herself and find a way to destroy him.
Think, Royce! Don’t just react—think! He tricked you before into doing what he wanted. Is this another trap?
Unfortunately, Royce realized, even if Pestale was once again deceiving her, she had to proceed as though he had told her the truth. The risk to the Hansons, to her precious David, was too high.
~ Seventeen ~
CHANCE AND TREVOR paced at different ends of the wizard’s weapons room. Chance held his fists at his back, and Trevor occupied his time with stopping now and then to inspect some of the very odd artifacts on the room’s stone walls.
A blazing fire crackled in the oversized fireplace, and Chance paused his pacing to sigh heavily and stare into the flames.
He was going mad waiting
.
He felt so damn helpless. What was he to do? She was there—with him, with the Dark Prince—and he was useless.
He felt his fist itching to find Pestale’s face and disfigure him. He discovered an ache, a heart-wrenching ache thinking that Pestale might have his hands on Royce. He put his fist to his mouth to still the roar that made its way to his throat.
This was no good. He had to stop imagining the worst—for it was driving him senseless, and he needed all his clear thinking intact!
But with every moment that passed, he lost a little more control. Every second that ticked by suggested that Pestale was on her … touching … kissing her …
He groaned against his will and looked at Trevor. “I … I have to kill him, Trev … I doona think I can bear to bring him in alive as yer queen wishes.”
“I know.” Trevor answered grimly.
Chance looked away. “
Bloody hell
!” he shouted just to release some angst. What the devil was taking so long?
And then the wizard shouted out excitedly, “Humph!” followed by, “YES!”
Both Trevor and Chance marched right up to him and waited as Rysdale waved a very ornate wand in the air. A sprinkle of gold dust exploded, and the wizard smiled broadly. “There, I have it!”
“I see nothing!” Chance exclaimed anxiously. “Only the wand you have had all along.”
“I have the spell perfected,” Rysdale said softly. “It took a bit longer than I had expected … but given the short notice, it is as good as can be expected.”
“As good as can be expected?” Chance growled. “What does that mean?”
“Indeed … there are two very important things that will be working against you,” said the wizard as he started walking towards a small, arched door on the other side of the weapons chamber.
Chance and Trevor followed and came up to flank him. Chance reached for the wizard’s arm and touched him. “Rysdale … what will be working against us?”
“In a moment, Chancemont … now we have to get to my portal!” Rysdale answered crisply with a finger up in the air.
“Then lead the way.” Chance started forward and turned to wait for the wizard. “Come on …” he encouraged as Rysdale stood for a moment, apparently deep in thought.
“It occurs to me that something must proceed you into the portal. Yes, right then, off we go,” Rysdale said as he marched to the door and swung it open, waving his hand for Chance and Trevor to precede him.
“You will have to use all your wits … and take care that emotion doesn’t overwhelm you. He will use emotion against you …” Rysdale muttered as he collected an odd-shaped piece of metal and walked briskly towards a circle in the far wall of the dark chamber. The circle had been inlaid with stone.
He mumbled quietly to himself and then waved his wand, and a whirlwind of mist and fog swirled before their eyes.
Then followed another set of mumblings and a sharp movement of his wand across the piece of metal before he turned to Chance and said, “That should do it. I sent something before you … for it will take you some moments to find him in his dimension. He has hidden his castle well, and this portal will take you only inside the dimension … not precisely to his habitat.”
“Right then, Rysdale—do we just walk into that? It looks so thick we’ll have to carve a path …”
Rysdale barked a laugh. “No … you’ll be taken to the ‘time dimension’ you seek. However, there is a drawback.”
“Of course there is,” said Chance with an impatient movement of his head.
“I must spell you to return, and because of the ‘standing still’ situation in his time dimension, you will only have thirty or so minutes by our time. I am not sure how much time that will translate to in his dimension.”
“It is what it is,” said Trevor with a grimace.
Chance grinned at him. “You sounded almost human, my lad!”
Trevor grinned, shrugged, and said, “And yet, I am not.”
“I have to tell you that I get a sense of Pestale at the other end of my portal. It is why I sent a thunderbolt to precede you.”
“Damnation, Rysdale, he will know we are coming!” snapped Chance.
“It was necessary to distract him …”
“Distract him from what?” Then dawning filtered through Chance’s mind. “Royce, m’wee love, is in trouble.” He stepped forward. “Right then—we are off!”
“Remember, time is of the essence—get in, get to her, and get her out. Make sure she is with you when you feel your time is up.”
“Thank you, Wizard,” Chance said grimly.
“Yes, indeed,” said Trevor. “Well done.”
Rysdale shrugged. “No, there isn’t enough time to do this well, but it is a great deal better than nothing.” He walked with them to the portal’s swirling opening and added, “There is something I get a sense of … his weakness.”
“Weakness?” Chance urged.
“Indeed, he has a weakness,” offered the wizard hesitantly, “but do not think that this weakness will make him … less potent. He is both ruthless and determined.”
“What is this weakness?”
“He cannot control the formation of his time dimension and fight to the death at the same time. One or the other has to give—he can forego the fight or lose the dimension he has so carefully constructed.”
“So that … in the ‘time dimension’ he is less powerful?” Chance was surprised.
“Precisely, but, Chance my boy, do not think that makes him less dangerous,” the wizard gazed at him meaningfully.
Chance considered this and stepped into an atmosphere in which he suspected it would be difficult to breathe. He was surprised to find that was not the case as he was sucked through a wormhole and landed on his feet in a dimension of ‘nothing.’
Trevor was right behind him and asked, “Whoa … now where do we go?”
“Got your Orb, Trev?” Chance asked, one brow arched.
Trev grinned. “You think it will work in here, don’t you?”
“Aye, lad, I do …”
* * *
“Take your clothes off … slowly, I want to enjoy this …” Pestale told her.
Royce cringed inside. She had to do what he wanted, but how could she? How could she let him touch her when she loathed him—when her body and mind revolted and screamed out for Chance instead?
She needed time; she needed to stall. “Don’t you want to do the vow first?” She made the offer knowing the vow would be meaningless, for she was sure she’d already bonded with Chance. “I thought you wanted—”
“Now, all I want is to watch you undress,” he said, cutting her off. “Everything else in its own good time … time, which we shall have so much of,” he answered confidently. “Now … take off that top … or shall I?”
She decided to play along, also to stall, and played with her top, lifting it and pulling it down slowly, only revealing a bit of her naked breasts underneath.
She could see desire in his eyes and felt an overwhelming sense of disgust, but she needed to buy time so she lifted her black tank top up again and gave him a flash of her breasts before pulling it back down.
“Off now …” he said hungrily. “I want to look at those beautiful nipples.”
She lifted off her tank top and threw it to the ground, unable to continue with the charade of a strip tease. “There—does that make you happy? Does that make you feel like a big, proud warrior? Forcing me—”
“Yes, in fact, it does,” he said softly. “Your breasts are beautiful … full, and those big, hard nipples are begging to be licked, and I mean to accommodate them very soon … now,
those jeans—off
.”
She crossed her arms across her naked breasts and said, “No.”
“I know, they fit you so well, but I want them off—NOW!”
Her essence screamed for her to run and find a way out of her predicament.
Run, find a way to young David—heal him yourself.
“No,” she said again, as something of who she was filtered into her mind. She blinked, and her black tank top was once again covering her torso. “No … I won’t …”
He strode towards her, hard and fast, and before she could think or defend herself he slapped her hard and ripped at her top.
She kicked him in the balls.
It was a human thing she had learned, and she smiled to see that it worked on Fae as well.
He was about to take action against her when a hurtling bolt of lightning (for Royce thought there was no other way to describe it) came slamming into the room and caught him in the chest.
Royce had no idea where this had originated or who had sent it, but it seemed to gather into a ball of fire, and its target, she could see, was Pestale, for it slammed into him again!
He recovered, and with a word and a flick of his wrist the ball of fire was vanquished, leaving ash on the floor.
However, he was startled away from Royce since someone had clearly broken through his barrier. Without a word, he left her to herself and shifted out.
She had no idea where he went, but she hurried down onto her knees and sniffed at the ash left behind by the fireball. Magic was a given, but she had expected … she had hoped it had been Chance.
Sorcerers worked with herbs and artifacts, and some even had familiars. Most sorcerers were not immortal. The scent she got off the burnt-out ball of fire was very potent—and she could detect definite traces of immortality. She knew of only one immortal wizard. She had never met him and was fairly certain he knew nothing about her, yet … this had the feel of wizardry!
“Rysdale,” she whispered to herself and smiled.
* * *
“Well?” Chance demanded as he looked into the cloudy globe. “Why isn’t it doing anything?”
“Have patience, Milesian!” Trevor snapped impatiently.
Chance growled, “We doona have the time, lad …”
“There …” Trevor said, holding the globe out.
The dark cloud within the glass cleared, and it displayed an oddly shaped castle. Then it said, “An illusion,” clouded over again, and was silent.
Chance and Trevor looked at one another. Chance said, “What does that mean, an illusion?”
“It means it isn’t real—but I’m not sure why”
“I am,” said Chance. “It’s so that he could change its location. Illusion is just that … nothing more. He can shift with her anywhere in this dimension … and unless she was looking for it, she wouldn’t know that it wasn’t real.”
“Then we had better hurry so that we can get a fix on him …”
They shifted into the castle, and Chance looked around. “It may be an illusion, lad, but it is a damn real one.”
“Yes … but focus … focus not on what you see, but on what you feel,” Trevor said. He closed and reopened his eyes. “By Danu … nothing, there is nothing here … and there,
there is Red!
”
Chance did what Trevor said and saw through the illusion. “Royce!” he called as he stepped towards her. She was about one hundred feet away.
Pestale stepped between them.
* * *
“Chance,” she answered softly in response. She knew he would find her. She had always known. She had been hoping, stalling, waiting for this moment. He was down the corridor—he was here in Pestale’s castle. He and Trevor had come to save her, but she couldn’t be saved; she had David and his parents to think about. They would be conscious soon …
She stood perfectly still, although the need to run to Chance was overwhelming, and a sob caught in her throat. And then … Pestale stood between them.
All at once, she knew what she had to do. Silently she called for her sword!
She could see Chance’s smile as he did the same; Trevor was just a step behind him, and they had Pestale surrounded.
Pestale laughed and shifted away, his own death weapon held high as he waved it at them and said, “Put your weapon away, Princess, and come to me. You know what I will do, if you don’t.”
Royce felt defeated by his threat, and yet, her mind told her to lunge at him, lunge, and with a growl of rage, so she did.
It gave Chance the opportunity, and he ensnared the Dark Prince with the Golden Net he snatched out of Trevor’s hands.
Pestale stood frozen in place, unable to move, a prisoner of the Seelie Golden Net! His father had such a net—he had even used it on occasion not so long ago …
He released a bellow of frustrated rage.
Chance came up to him and aimed his death weapon.
Trevor did not try and stop him because all he could see was his sweet love, Lana, at Pestale’s hand … her throat sliced open.
It was Royce who jumped to Chance and held his arm in mid-movement, “Chance!”