Warriors Of Legend (7 page)

“And I’m glad I got to share it with you, too,” she said softly. “But… I’m not sure this can go any further.”

“What can’t go any further?”

She lifted her eyebrows. “I know it’s presumptive of me to anticipate what you may or may not be thinking, but you and me… I mean, not that there is a you and me, but…”

He cut her off. “I wish there was. I’d give my right arm for it.”

She grew serious. “Aisling told you why I’m here, right?”

“She did.”

“Then you know the last thing on my mind is a hook–up. I can’t; I’m not emotionally ready for anything close to that.”

He knew that. But he wasn’t going to give up hope. “I’m a patient man,” he told her. “When you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

Her brow furrowed. “Are you crazy? I live in California.”

“It’s only a plane ride away.”

She shook her head at him as he tried to make the situation seem simpler than it was. “It’s six thousand miles away.”

He shifted his big body, his enormous arms tightening around her. Destry felt his heat, his power, and it began to weaken her resolve. His handsome face loomed in front of her, half of it illuminated by the sunset.

“I’m going to try to explain this, so listen closely,” he said, his tone a gentle growl. “When I saw you yesterday, no one I had ever seen in my life caught my eye like you did. Here I was, teaching a class, and an angel walked right into my midst. I don’t know how else to describe it. Then, when you came to my office today, it was like my prayers had been answered and there you were again. And the kiss… Destry, I don’t know if I can ever kiss another woman again because you’ve ruined them all for me. No other kiss will ever come close. If I died tomorrow, I would die a happy man. So a six thousand mile plane ride doesn’t concern me; I’d go to the Arctic if that’s where you were. Anywhere you are, I’ll follow.”

She gazed at him with an expression something between disbelief and pleasure. “Nobody talks like that, Conor.”

“Like what?”

“Like something out of a romance novel. You sound like Prince Charming.”

He grinned. “I hope so,” he said, his blue eyes glittering. “Is it working?”

She laughed softly. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“I’m willing to live the rest of my life on a maybe.”

She was incredulous. “Just for me?”

His smile faded as his gaze grew intense. “Only for you.”

Destry wasn’t sure what more she could say; she had stated her case, sort of, and he was making his desires plain. She stared at him, trying to figure out his true motivation; infatuation? Insanity? She wondered.

“But you don’t even know me,” she said softly, earnestly. “You just met me.”

He unwound a big arm from around her torso, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger. Turning her head slightly, he kissed her gently on the cheek.

“I know enough,” he whispered, turning her face again and kissing her nose delicately. “What I don’t know, I can learn. What I can’t learn, I can feel.”

She closed her eyes as his mouth moved to the other cheek, kissing her with great tenderness. “Oh, my God,” she breathed. “Are you for real?”

Conor eyes were closed as well. He didn’t miss a beat as he swooped in for her lips. “Very real,” he murmured as his mouth clamped down over hers.

As Conor and Destry lost themselves in a deeply passionate kiss, the rays from the setting sun were beginning to fall on the entrance of ancient stone. Just as they did yesterday, the soft yellow rays hit the porous slabs, warming them, creating the same odd glow as they had yesterday, only tonight the glow was stronger and more potent. An odd hum was also beginning to churn as the rock heated up, reverberating through the slab with an ancient song.

Had Conor not been so consumed with Destry in his arms, he might have noticed that the sunlight was now streaming in through the tunnel, hitting the back of the chamber as it had done for every Spring and Fall equinox for five thousand years. The old stones were positioned just so, creating the right conditions for worlds to collide at just this place, just this time.

The old mound of Dowth had never been a burial chamber; it had been a chamber where ancient man had moved through time and worlds as easily as moving from one field to the other. But only under the correct conditions, when the days and nights were of the same length, and the stars were aligned just so. This was one of those times. Those caught within the mound would walk between worlds in echoes of ancient dreams.

One moment, Conor had Destry trapped firmly in his arms and in the next, a brilliant flash of light blinded him. It was enough to pull his attention from Destry, who gasped with fright at the blinding white light. But her gasp was the last thing he heard before the white light drowned out everything conscious thought, every waking awareness.

And then… there was darkness.

CHAPTER SIX

There was a soft wind, blowing gently about her. Destry was half–conscious, feeling the breeze about her. Something cold was tickling her face but she wasn’t lucid enough to brush it away. She was in a dreamy daze, somewhere between light and dark, and the only sound that met her ears was that of birds singing overhead.

Consciousness came and went. She drifted into darkness again, a sweet and blissful place, until warm hands were on her and she gradually became aware that someone had lifted her up. She felt a gentle touch on her cheeks, stroking her.

“Destry?” she could hear the distinctly male voice. “Can you hear me, sweetheart? Open your eyes. Open them and look at me.”

Destry was trying; in fact, she was trying very hard but she just couldn’t seem to open her eyes. When she was able to marginally peep them open, the light was so bright that she closed her eyes again. The darkness swarmed around her and she drifted off.

Conor could see that she had passed out again. He was fairly woozy himself but he fought it; looking around, they were in heavy foliage, remarkably dry, as the weak sunlight beat down through the tree canopy overhead. Had he not been feeling so ill or confused it would have been a lovely sight. But all he could manage to feel at the moment was disorientation, confusion and nausea.

His last memory had been of kissing Destry in the dank, cold tunnel of Dowth mound. It had been hot and delicious, everything he could have imagined it would be. Then he had awoken in the overgrown grass, staring straight up at the sky, wondering what in the hell had happened. He felt as if he’d been on the losing end of a fight as he struggled to clear his head, sitting up slowly as the world rocked. He truly had no idea what had happened. Over to his left, he could see Destry crumpled on her side like a rag doll.

Heart in his throat, he forgot about his spinning head as he struggled to Destry’s side. Carefully, he rolled her on to her back, very carefully inspecting her pale face to see if he could see any visible damage. At this point, not knowing what had happened, he ran his hands down her arms and legs, feeling for broken bones, but she was intact. Then he carefully scooped her into his arms and tried to rouse her.

Destry was struggling to come around but she was still fairly out of it. Conor wasn’t feeling much better but at least he was upright. He held her against his broad chest, watching her sigh and twitch, before taking a look back up at the mound. He expected to see it exploded outward at the very least, because something had obviously thrown them clear of the mound; they were at least twelve or more feet away from it.

It took him a moment to realize that the mound of Dowth was very much intact and extremely overgrown. In fact, he could barely see the tunnel they had been huddled in for all of the growth around it. His blue eyed gaze drifted over the lines of the mound, something he knew very well, but it just didn’t look the same as it had a few minutes earlier. Puzzlement began to sprout.

“What the…?” he muttered.

His brow furrowed in confusion and he began to look around; nothing was as he remembered it; no fences, no farm houses, no neatly tended fields. It was all wild meadow as far as he could see. It was all very weird but he shoved his bewilderment aside. He had no idea what had happened to them other than some kind of natural explosion and decided the best course of action would be to return to his car and get Destry to a hospital. Then maybe he needed to get his head checked, too, because things didn’t look the same as they did just a few minutes earlier. Maybe the explosion had given him a concussion or something. He certainly felt like it.

He gently scooped Destry into his arms, cradling her carefully as he made his way around the east side of the mound. Here, too, it looked extremely overgrown and the entrance tunnels on this side were nearly completely blocked off with fallen stone and bramble. Greatly perplexed, he rounded the side of the mound with the expectation of finding the carpark dead ahead. He came to an abrupt halt when he realized there was nothing there but open, green field. Everything was gone.

Conor stared at the area where his car should have been, starting to wonder if he hadn’t lost his mind. Nothing was as it should be or where he left it and he was struggling against an increasingly strong sense of dread. As he stood there with Destry cradled in his arms, trying to figure out what he should do next, the bramble off to his left suddenly rattled.

Startled, he whirled around in time to see a very small, willowy woman push through the trees with three small children at her side. His brow furrowed as he realized the woman was wearing a nightgown. Or, at least, he thought it was a nightgown; it was as white as she was, the color blending into her skin, all wispy and flowing. She also had a walking stick in her hand, a stick that was twice her height.

As the trees parted and the woman drew closer, he could see that she was a younger woman, her white hair long and straight, and the children with her weren’t as much children as they were midgets or dwarfs. He truly had no idea; they were odd little people with big hands and big heads, and they were dressed in raggedy pajamas as they suddenly rushed at him, squealing. Startled, and at a disadvantage with an unconscious woman in his arms, Conor backed off. The woman in the nightgown lifted a hand to him in greeting.

“
Mo Thiarna
,” she said. “
Dia bheannaithe linn ar an lá seo de laethanta le do thuairisceán. Táimid ag guí ar an lá seo.”

Conor stared at her. It was an extremely archaic form of Irish Gaelic, something very odd and out of place in this modern world. Although he understood her completely, her words had no meaning to him.
My lord, God has blessed us on this day of days with your return. We have prayed for this day.

“
Dia,
” he replied. “
Duit go bhfuil an bhean bhí gortaithe. An féidir leat glaoch ar chabhair leighis?”

This woman is injured; can you call for medical assistance
? He tried not to sound too panicked or too bewildered as he asked. Getting help for Destry was all he could think about at the moment; everything else, all of the weirdness and disorientation, would have to wait. But the woman smiled faintly at him.

“You do not remember me, do you?” she said in her heavy Gaelic. “‘Tis of no concern, my lord. You will remember in time.”

Conor regarded her, shaking his head after a moment and replying in her dialect. “I’m sorry, I don’t know who you are. Do you have a mobile phone with you?”

There was no word for ‘phone’ in Gaelic, so he had to go with the best translation he could. The woman cocked her head, looking rather amused. “I am Padraigan the White,” she said. “Your memory will return. But you must come with me now, quickly. They must not find you here.”

Conor had no idea what she was talking about. He thought the woman was a little crazy so he started to walk away, thinking it would be best to put distance between them, but she trailed after him.

“Please, my lord,” she said with growing insistence. “You must not go that way. You must come with me. You must…!”

He suddenly came to a halt, whirling on her. “Look,” he cut her off, the distinct look of agitation on his face. “This lady is injured. She needs a doctor. Can you at least call for a taxi so I can get her to a hospital?”

The little people collected at Conor’s feet and began to tug at him, inspecting his jeans. He actually kicked one of them away when the man got too close to his crotch. Padraigan put her stick out and tapped one of the little folk on the shoulder, causing all of them to look at her.

“Quickly,” she commanded softly. “Get the horses. We must return them swiftly or all will be lost.”

“What are you talking about?” Conor asked, growing more distressed. “Can you even understand what I’m saying? I need to get this woman to a hospital.”

For the first time, Padraigan’s gaze moved to Destry, lying still and pale in Conor’s enormous arms. Her gaze softened as she studied the lovely face and a hand came up as if to touch her, but just as quickly pulled away. There was reverenced in her expression, in her tone, as she spoke.

“Fanacht, morrigan,” she whispered. “Gnáthlá agus oiche og ceanna; tar ar cúl do sinne.”

Conor’s eyes narrowed dangerously and he took a step back as if to protect Destry from this strange and mysterious woman. He was becoming seriously upset by all of this, the strange people, the odd land, and the fact that he didn’t feel well at all. Something terrible had happened but it was like living a nightmare; he couldn’t seem to get any help. No one understood what he needed. Short of walking to Drogheda, which was just a few miles to the east, he wasn’t sure what more he could say or do to stress his urgency. Now, with this bizarre woman repeating the very words that Destry had sworn she had heard in her dreams, he was at his limit of patience.

“Where in the hell did you hear that?” he hissed.

Padraigan looked at him, not at all offended by his tone. The High King had always been extremely protective of his wife, a woman he was deeply and hopelessly in love with. Their love story was legendary, so much so that vying factions in the kingdom had gone to great lengths to preserve it. Now, they were back and the situation threatened to explode all over again. And it would if she could not get the man to safety.