Viator (The Viator Chronicles Book 1) (36 page)

Gripping his injured arm, Michael dashed away to find Erin. Soon he could see William through the trees, still standing in the same spot, and he slowed his approach. When he got closer, he saw Erin lying at William’s feet, pale, wet, and still, huddled on the ground, her bloody arms hugging her body. He gasped and looked at William’s face—he was expressionless and said nothing; he just pointed to her again.

Michael dropped to his knees beside her and felt her face and hands. She was icy cold. He pulled her arms away and saw her stomach had been ripped open and blood still pulsed out. He swallowed hard. She was already so far gone. He pulled out his small flask, opened it, and poured some of the golden liquid over her wound. Erin’s face was almost blue and she didn’t move. Holding the flask to her mouth, he poured a tiny amount of the liqueur between her lips, but it ran down her face. When he picked up her body, cradling her on his lap, she was limp, and he held her close and caressed her cold, wet hair and kissed her pale face and bloodless lips.

There had to be something he could do—he couldn’t let her go like this. Where had she gone if she wasn’t here? He laid Erin back down on the ground, took off his jacket and shirt, wrapped the shirt around her body, and covered her with his jacket. He sat on the ground with her head in his lap and held her face in his hands, then closed his eyes.

“Let me follow you,” he whispered. He pictured her face, alive, laughing. He imagined her dancing in his arms, warm and close. He felt himself sink into blackness, following her path, chasing after her. The way grew colder and more desolate than anywhere he’d ever imagined. He cried out, but kept going, racing after her. Pain pierced him like knives as he fell into a spiral of despair where his path descended into catacombs of darkness and terror.

Chapter 51

Guitar—someone was playing a slow melody far away. A tenor voice rose in song. Erin listened to the music, wondering, and its beauty broke her heart.

How could she hear those things? The cold voice had told her nothing was left—no light, no warmth, no life.

Soft voices spoke nearby, and she gradually became aware of comfort and softness, warm hands on her shoulders. She felt cradled in peace.

A woman’s gentle voice, as light as crystal bells. “Ah, little one.”

“She’s awakening at last?” a man’s voice said.

Erin opened her eyes. She lay on a soft couch with her head resting in Salina’s lap. Salina’s radiance glowed clear and bright as sunlight. A small man stood beside them, his eyes brown as obsidian.

“It’s good to have you back, Erin,” he said. “You gave us quite a fright.”

She couldn’t take her eyes from him. “I know you.”

He smiled. “Yes. It’s been a long time since I first brought you here. Now rest a while longer.”

Erin struggled to sit up, but had no strength for it. “How did you find me? Did you bring me here?”

“Not this time.” His eyes seemed to look deep inside her. “Rest now. This is the time for healing.”

Salina squeezed his hand. “Thank you, Conn.”

He turned and left the room.

Salina soothed her face with a cool, fragrant cloth, and the guitar began another melody. Erin looked around the room, which was filled with sunlight and strewn with several pale yellow chairs and a few small tables. The French doors opened to a garden with bright blossoms and fluttering green leaves. Above, candles in a chandelier emitted a soft, powdery fragrance.

“How did I get here?” Erin asked.

“Michael brought you.”

Erin closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Michael. How did he find me?”

“The crow led him to you. But Michael had a terrible time getting to you once he found you. You were almost beyond reach, little one. It took all his strength to pull you back.”

Erin frowned. “Where is he?”

“He’s already left Domus.”

Erin listened to the guitar in the distance. The tenor sang with the melody, but she didn’t understand the words. “Conn was my teacher,” she whispered.

“Yes.”

Her brow creased. “Why did I have such a hard time remembering him? Why couldn’t I remember my dreams?”

Salina sighed. “Your husband’s death was a terrible loss, and you blamed yourself. Conn came to you in the midst of that immense pain. Remembering your dreams brought all that pain back, so your mind closed the door to those memories.” Salina wiped Erin’s forehead with the soft, cool cloth. “Conn felt he should have waited to ask you to join us until your grief was lessened, but our need is great, and he saw the strength inside you.”

“I have no strength.”

Salina raised her eyebrows. “Is that what you think? You have won the hardest battle, risking yourself for someone else—someone who has done you so much harm. You are strong.”

They were silent as they listened to another song. A light soprano voice joined the tenor, singing strange, soothing words.

“How did I begin to remember?”

“Other viators. Being with them helped awaken your memories—especially Michael.”

More voices joined in the song, adding an intricate harmony. Erin realized she must have been gone a long time.

“How long do I need to stay?”

Salina spoke gently. “You can leave whenever you like. You will bear a scar if you go back now, but it will fade some. The scars on your heart will take longer to heal, of course, and they will never go away completely. You will feel much grief from your ordeal.”

“How long have I been here?”

“A few days.”

Erin tried to sit up and winced at the pain in her stomach. She sat up anyway. “My children must be worried about me.”

“Yes.”

“How will I get back?”

“Lord Ariston will take you. He’s waiting right outside.”

The large man entered the room and bowed to Salina, then bowed to Erin. “Are you ready to go back now?”

She gazed at him—he was dressed in shorts and a wide belt; he looked even more powerful than before. He grinned at her.

“Erin may need some help getting to the boat, my lord,” Salina said.

Erin stood up and felt very weak. The room began to spin, so she grasped Ariston’s arm and leaned against him.

“Take good care of her.” Salina kissed both of Erin’s cheeks. “Come back soon, my dear, so I can see how you are.”

Erin nodded. “As soon as I can. How can I thank you enough?”

“My joy will be to see you fight again, little viator.
Tutus somnium
. May your dreams bring you safely to our shore again.”

Erin leaned against Ariston as they walked through the restful house past many small groups of viators speaking softly together. Sunlight and candles cast a warm, flickering glow on their faces, and they smiled and greeted Erin and Ariston as they passed. When they reached the door her legs gave out, and he picked her up and carried her the rest of the way to the rowboat in the nearby harbor. He set her on a cushion in the bow, covered her with a blanket, and pushed off. The day was still bright, and the water glimmered in the sunshine. He rowed slowly and steadily out into the wide, slow moving river. They left a shimmering wake behind them as they made their way across.

Ariston kept watching Erin, and she finally asked, “What is it? Do I look strange?”

“No. I’ve just never known anyone who’s gone so far. You were on the far side of the distant river—we don’t go there. And you had fallen even further from there, into blackness. Michael said it was a long and evil journey.”

“You talked to Michael?”

“Yes, after he brought you to Salina. It was quite a tale he told.”

“Is he all right?”

“He’s all right. He was injured too, but not badly. He was shaken, though, by where he had to go to finally reach you—he was shaken to his soul. You were severely hurt.” He paused. “Your attacker made it back.”

Erin thought about Gary and began to tremble under her blanket. “Yes, I remember seeing him cross back over the ford.” He had made it back, and he was alive. Horror welled up inside her as she remembered what he had done.

“He was the one, wasn’t he?” she asked Ariston. “The dreamer who led a viator to his death.”

“Yes.” The big man’s nostrils flared and his brow creased so tight his eyebrows became one line across his face.

“And the shadows caused the accident that killed my husband. A mortifer told me himself—they did it for Gary.”

Ariston nodded, and they rowed on in silence. The only sound was the dip and splash of the oars as they hit the water.

“You were lucky in one way, though,” he said. “If a mortifer had found you in your state, I don’t think even Michael would have been able to help you. You would have been destroyed. But it was a strange thing. Michael said there was a man standing beside you as you lay injured. He stayed until Michael had finally reached you and could carry you back, then he walked away, deeper into the forest on the other side. Never said a word. But Michael was sure he kept the mortifers away.”

She stared at Ariston, unable to speak. Who had guarded her? She could think of only one person it might be, but it seemed too amazing. “Did Michael know who it was?”

“He thought it was someone named William. Do you know him?”

Erin’s eyes filled with tears. “He was my husband,” she whispered.

Ariston stopped rowing and shipped the oars. He went to her, wrapping her in his huge arms, and held her while she cried.

“Michael was sure it was him,” he continued. “He guarded you both the whole time and only left after Michael brought bring you back across the river.”

Erin nodded, and Ariston went back to rowing. They didn’t speak again until they reached shore. He tied the boat to the dock and lifted Erin out. When he set her on her feet, she embraced him.

He said, “May we meet in our dreams again soon.”

“Thank you, my lord. Walk with care.”

Chapter 52

The nurse wrapped the blood pressure cuff around Erin’s upper arm and began to inflate it, listening to the pulse of her blood flow. Erin lay back on her hospital bed and looked at the sunshine streaming through the window, coloring the room bright gold. The nurse jotted down the readings onto a chart and smiled.

“You’re doing better today,” she said.

Erin’s gaze wandered to the window. “I need to go home.”

“I heard you’ll be able to go home tomorrow.”

“Good.” Erin gave the nurse a faint smile.

“You have some beautiful flowers.”

Several colorful bouquets sat on the counter, their sweet fragrance filling the air, and get-well cards were propped open beside them. Erin’s stomach ached as she thought about the fear and worry her friends and children had felt. So many regrets—she had been so blind. “My friends are wonderful. They do so much for me.”

The privacy curtain was closed, shutting off the view to the hallway, but Erin’s door was open. She heard footfalls approach from down the hall, and the curtain was pulled aside. Gwen stood there.

“Mommy!” Gwen rushed to Erin but stopped short of the bed, her eyes wide.

Matthew followed and stopped when he saw her. “Mom.” Tears ran down his cheeks. He hugged her, and Gwen came close to hug her, too. Hannah followed them into the room.

“My darlings,” Erin whispered. “I’m so sorry. This has been terrible for you.”

Matt stood up straight and studied her. “Mom, are you all right? How’s your head?”

Erin’s head was bandaged and her face was bruised. Her left arm was in a sling. Her body was bandaged tightly around her waist, and she was glad Matt couldn’t see it.

“It still hurts, but I’m okay. Soon I’ll be good as new,” Erin said. She fought back her tears. She was determined to reassure them—to make sure they knew she would be all right.

“Gwen picked these for you.” Hannah approached, carrying a vase of tiny blue and white forget-me-nots. “She said they always make you feel better.”

Gwen nodded. She took the vase from Hannah and showed the little flowers to Erin. “I picked them this morning. You should see the garden—all the flowers are blooming now.” She leaned on the bed and grabbed Erin’s hand.

“Thank you. They’re just what I wanted,” Erin said. “Good news, kids—the nurse just told me I can come home tomorrow.”

“Wonderful,” Hannah said.

“I know you two might not want me to come home so soon since you’re having so much fun with Hannah and Carlos, but you’ll have to put up with me again,” Erin teased, her eyes crinkled in a smile.

“We want you home!” Matt and Gwen said together.

Erin and Hannah exchanged grins.

Aleesha walked into the room with a vase of yellow roses. “Darling, you look so much better.” She set the vase on the counter and kissed Erin’s cheek.

“Thanks, Leesh. I’m feeling better today. More flowers? You’re spoiling me. These roses are lovely.”

Aleesha studied Erin’s face. “Are you going home tomorrow?”

“The nurse said yes.”

“Just give me a call when you’re ready and I’ll pick you up. I’ll come over as often as you need help, too. Don’t worry about a thing,” Hannah said.

“Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you—all of you.”

They were silent for a minute, then Gwen told Erin about her last day of school before summer vacation, and Matthew told her about the new fort he and Jacob had built on the beach. They talked about the delicious dinner Carlos had fixed for them, and how they were able to stay up late and watch movies. Gwen laughed about Hannah’s and Carlos’s silly games and how they made up funny stories. Erin began to relax.

The children talked for over an hour. Time passed so quickly Erin was shocked when Hannah said it was time for them to go. Matt and Gwen kissed and hugged her, and Hannah squeezed her hand before they left, promising to come back the next day to take her home.

When they were alone, Aleesha sat down on the edge of the bed. “You were right not to let the kids see you until now. Even yesterday they would have been frightened.”

“Yes, even so, I’m not a pretty sight.”

“It won’t be long.” Aleesha squeezed Erin’s hand.

“But you, Leesh—I was shocked to wake up and see your face—red and swollen from crying. I’ve never seen you like that. I was sure you must look worse than I did,” Erin joked.