“Are you awake?”

Pain slices through my head. I send a tendril of healing power to ease it. Maybe if I ignore her, she’ll give up and go away. I hold still as stone and limp as a wet dishrag, keeping my breathing even and slow.

“Please . . . please wake up.” The teen’s hand shakes me once more. Physical contact provides a clear channel for my empathy. Her desperation is reaching a breaking point.

“Janna,” I sigh, opening my eyes. “What is your problem?” I glance around. We are surrounded by rounded, blue-black stone walls and high, narrow windows. Looks like we made it to Merithin’s tower.

Janna’s lower lip begins to quiver. “It’s Misty . . . She’s just laying so still, like she’s . . .” Tears gather in her eyes. “Is she dead?”

I reach out a tentative hand to the near-frantic youth. “It’s okay, Janna. We knew the trip here was going to be hard. I’m sure it’s nothing. And please remember to call your sister Emily now that we are on this world.”

“Yeah, but, the others are gone.” Janna’s whining protest comes to a standstill as the color drains from my face. My thin lips compress, disappearing completely.

With determined steps, I make a circuit of the room, chiding myself for not doing so earlier. Worry rises with each footfall as I pace. There are numerous incongruities. Using all my considerable tracking skills, I can find only two other impressions besides the ones for Janna, Emily, and myself. The winding, narrow staircase snaking around the edge of the room without so much as a guard rail marks this as the right time period, but something is greatly amiss.

“The others probably recovered faster than us; that’s all.” Schooling my expression, I try to ease the youngster’s worry, though my own has shot through the roof. “Look over here, there’s some platters with food, carafes of wine, and a pitcher of something warm.”

“Then why did they leave us here,” Janna’s high-pitched voice nags, “just lying on the floor?”

The child’s whining tone pricks my rising temper. “I told you, nothing’s wrong.”

“But they left Emily when she’s so bad off.”

My voice becomes calloused and hard. “I’ll let you know when there’s something to worry about.”

Tears glisten in the teen’s eyes. I expel a deep breath and shake my head. “While we wait for Emily to wake up, let’s get something to eat.”

With a barely perceptible nod, Janna squares her shoulders as she shores up her confidence. The girl takes a seat opposite me with her head high and back straight. Plucking a piece of fruit off the top, she bites without really seeing it. “Ooh, these are sweet.”

The girl devourers the ripened delicacy before reaching for the piece of the dark loaf I cut for her. My fears continue to multiply as we spend the next couple of hours sampling the cuisine.

“It all tastes so weird.” Giggling, Janna sips more of the spiced wine. “But in a good way.”

I grunt then stand to stretch my back. I saunter over to my unconscious niece. With what little healing sight I can muster, I perform a more thorough examination to make sure the kid is still recuperating well. Her vitals seem stable; her pulse is good. I turn to Emily’s sibling with sight still active. She’s drunk!

“I told you to watch how much of that you drank.”

“It’s so good. It tastes a lot like the apple cider Mom made last—” Janna drops the cup on the table. Some of the contents slosh over the side. The depression plaguing the adolescent since her mother’s death brings shadows back to the sunny disposition.

I’ve had all of this I can take. I reach out as if to comfort the girl while sending a tendril of power into the child. With lightning-quick reflexes embedded in my warrior woman form, I catch the collapsing adolescent. Placing the slumbering body beside her sister, where the imprint implies she materialized, I step back to consider the situation.

I retrace my earlier route, circling the room yet again. Why are there only two other disturbances in the dust? I examine the remains of a fractured emerald spread over one side of the room. That gem was acting as a spell component. What the hell is going on here?

The weight of the shield strapped to my back doesn’t keep me from taking the stairs two at a time. A give a firm jerk of the metal handle. The door doesn’t budge an inch. I begin to mutter, spitting each word from my mouth like a piece of liver.

 

“In this land where men reign,

An edge is needed in a female frame.

Triple their strength will lend to my fame.”

 

I give a push from within. Tingling energy caresses my being as it streams from me. Light, the color of a summer sky, encompasses my form. An electric sensation seeps into my skin, settling into the bones. My head begins to pound. Expecting this, I use what is left of my somatic essence to relieve the migraine.

One calloused hand grasps the pommel of the sword strapped to my side. This feels good—right. More natural than trying to take care of that whining brat. The sound of ringing steel echoes into the circular chamber as I unsheathe the blade. “Open . . . this . . . door.” Each word is punctuated by the sound of a metal pommel making contact with the very solid wooden door. “Or . . . I will . . . take it . . . from its . . . hinges!”

I relent, listening for any sound from the other side. Defining silence greets me. I begin again. Half an hour later, when frustration gives way to exhaustion, I resheathe the blade, breathing in gulps of air.

The stumbling footfalls sound loudly in my ears. I press my forehead to the wood. No more sleeping pills; I’m out of healing energy.

“Where are we?” Although pale, Emily appears unscathed by the transdimensional experience. “Did we make it to Cuthburan?”

“Why are you making so much noise?” A groggy Janna winces at the pain in her head as she is half-supported by her flaxen-haired sister.

“Yes, we’re here . . .” I pivot about as the whoosh of the door swinging open behind me sings loudly into my ears.

“Aunt Becky!” My stiff arm cuts off Janna’s mad dash. Emily, with uncharacteristic tenderness, helps her sister back to her feet.

“Reba?” My eyes narrow as I notice the blue in hers. Our eyes are brown . . .

“No, I’m Rhealyn, Reba’s daughter.” The woman smiles, but the light doesn’t reach her eyes. “You must be my Aunt Lani, you and Mother are identical, except for the hair.”

I understood her Cuthburish. Looks like the translation spell Ashley cast is still intact. “I’m Reba’s twin, but here I’ll be known as Anluanna.” My lips curve as well, but inside anger seethes at the reception we’ve received. “Does my sister still reside in this city?” I gesture toward the girls. “We’d hoped to be reunited with her.”

“She and Father are unavoidably detained. If you will follow me, I will show you to your rooms.”

BOOK THREE

Love’s Journey

~Back