Key of Knowledge
Page 86
His eyes gleamed black as he raised the sword. “And you, worse. Your blood will seal you here.”
But as he swung down to strike, his hand was empty.
“Let’s see if gods fly,” Jordan said. Both he and Dana rushed forward.
Dana felt her shoving hands connect, then they passed through him as he vanished.
There was a swirl of smoke, a flash of dull blue light. Then nothing but the moon and shadows.
“Did I do that?” She had to wheeze out the words. “Or did you?”
“I don’t know.” He caught her when her legs gave way, and lowered them both to the stone floor. “I don’t care. Jesus, you’re bruised and bleeding. But I’ve got you.” He wrapped her tight in his arms. “I’ve got you.”
“Ditto.” Undone, she buried her face against his chest. “How did you get here? He didn’t bring you. He wasn’t expecting you.”
“He’s not the only god in the Valley these days.” Lifting her head, he pressed his lips to her cheek, her temple. “We’ve got to find our way back, Dana. I don’t mind being sucked into a story, but this is a little much.”
“I’m open to suggestions.” Hold on, she ordered herself. Hold on until it’s finished. “This is just about the end of the story. Heroine grapples with bad guy, and with a little help from the ghost—who was no help at all, by the way—fights him off, sends him over the wall just as the hero bursts out to save her. Kiss, kiss, frantic explanations and declarations of love. Then they watch the phantom of the watch fade away, freed by her final act of humanity.”
“You remembered that pretty well for somebody who read it six years ago.” He helped her to her feet, then looked toward the end of the parapet. The cloaked figure stood, looking out at the forest.
“She’s not fading.”
“Maybe she needs a little more time.” When she put weight on her knee, the pain brought tears to her eyes. “Ouch! Damn. Maybe you could write in an ice pack for this knee.”
“Wait.” Fascinated, he stepped forward. “Rowena.”
“Her name wasn’t Rowena. It was . . . I can’t quite remember, but it wasn’t—” She broke off, her eyes widening as the cloaked woman turned and smiled at her. “Except it is Rowena.”
“I couldn’t send you alone. We wouldn’t let him take your lives here. Will you finish your quest?” she asked Dana.
“I haven’t come this far to toss it in now. I was about to—” She cut herself off again. “It’s not in the book, not anymore. Not on the white page with the black words. It’s here now. In the story, like we are.”
“I’ve already done more than I’m permitted to do. I can only ask you: Will you finish your quest?”
“Yes, I’ll finish it.”
She vanished, not with smoke and light as Kane had, but as if she’d never been.
“What the hell do we do now?” Jordan asked. “Go back—somehow—to the beginning of the book and start looking? The lines you remembered were from the prologue.”
“No, we don’t have to go back. I need a minute first.” She stepped to the wall, breathed deep. “Autumn smoke in the air,” she chanted. “The way the moon, a perfect ball, is carved into the sky. Everything—the trees, the valley . . . look, you can just see the river, the way the moonlight glints off the water at the bend of it. It’s all here, every detail.”
“Yeah, nice view. Let’s finish up and go look at it in our world.”
“I like your book, Jordan. I don’t want to live here, but it’s a fascinating place to visit. It’s exactly the way I pictured it. You write a hell of a story.”
“Dana, I can’t do this. I can’t stand thinking about the way you’re lying there back home. You’re so pale, so cold. You look like—”
“Niniane, from Brad’s portrait. One walks.” She gestured to where Rowena had been. “One waits. That would be Niniane, or in reflection, I guess it’s me.” She turned, held out a hand. “I need the key, Jordan.”
He stared at her. “Honey, if I had the key, I’d’ve given it to you long before this.”
“You always had it. You just didn’t know it. I’m the key, and you’re mine. Write it for me, Jordan. Put it in my hand, and let’s go home.”
“All right.” He tried to wrap his mind around it. Then he touched her face and let himself see. “She stood bathed in moonlight. Goddess and lover, with eyes deep and dark with truths. He might have been born loving her, he wasn’t sure. But he knew, without question, that he would die loving her.
“She smiled,” he continued as Dana’s lips curved, “and held out her hand to him. It glittered in her palm, a small, simple thing. The key she’d searched for, fought for. It was old, but bright with promise. A slim bar of gold topped with a swirl of connecting circles in a symbol as old as time.”
She felt the weight of it, and the shape against her palm. Closing her fist around it, she reached for him with her free hand. “It’ll take us back,” she said, “for the epilogue.”
SHE opened her eyes, blinked at the sea of faces, then blinked at her brother. “Auntie Em.”
“Oh, Christ. Dana.” He grabbed her, hauled her up against him, and rocked them both.
“Ouch.” But she was laughing as he hugged her tight enough to crack ribs. “Take it easy. I’ve already got more than enough bumps and bruises.”
“You’re hurt? Where are you hurt?”
“If you can bear to let her go a moment, I’ll tend her.” Rowena touched Flynn’s shoulder.
“I have the key.”
“Yes, I know. Will you trust me with it for now?”
“You bet.” Without hesitation, she put the key in Rowena’s hand. Reaching back for Jordan, she grinned at her friends. “What a ride.”
“You scared the hell out of us.” Malory swallowed back tears. “Both of you.”
“Your face is bruised. Her face is bruised,” Zoe said, and moved in immediately. “Her arm’s bleeding. Oh, her poor throat. Where are the bandages?”
“She won’t need them, little mother,” Pitte stated calmly.
But as he swung down to strike, his hand was empty.
“Let’s see if gods fly,” Jordan said. Both he and Dana rushed forward.
Dana felt her shoving hands connect, then they passed through him as he vanished.
There was a swirl of smoke, a flash of dull blue light. Then nothing but the moon and shadows.
“Did I do that?” She had to wheeze out the words. “Or did you?”
“I don’t know.” He caught her when her legs gave way, and lowered them both to the stone floor. “I don’t care. Jesus, you’re bruised and bleeding. But I’ve got you.” He wrapped her tight in his arms. “I’ve got you.”
“Ditto.” Undone, she buried her face against his chest. “How did you get here? He didn’t bring you. He wasn’t expecting you.”
“He’s not the only god in the Valley these days.” Lifting her head, he pressed his lips to her cheek, her temple. “We’ve got to find our way back, Dana. I don’t mind being sucked into a story, but this is a little much.”
“I’m open to suggestions.” Hold on, she ordered herself. Hold on until it’s finished. “This is just about the end of the story. Heroine grapples with bad guy, and with a little help from the ghost—who was no help at all, by the way—fights him off, sends him over the wall just as the hero bursts out to save her. Kiss, kiss, frantic explanations and declarations of love. Then they watch the phantom of the watch fade away, freed by her final act of humanity.”
“You remembered that pretty well for somebody who read it six years ago.” He helped her to her feet, then looked toward the end of the parapet. The cloaked figure stood, looking out at the forest.
“She’s not fading.”
“Maybe she needs a little more time.” When she put weight on her knee, the pain brought tears to her eyes. “Ouch! Damn. Maybe you could write in an ice pack for this knee.”
“Wait.” Fascinated, he stepped forward. “Rowena.”
“Her name wasn’t Rowena. It was . . . I can’t quite remember, but it wasn’t—” She broke off, her eyes widening as the cloaked woman turned and smiled at her. “Except it is Rowena.”
“I couldn’t send you alone. We wouldn’t let him take your lives here. Will you finish your quest?” she asked Dana.
“I haven’t come this far to toss it in now. I was about to—” She cut herself off again. “It’s not in the book, not anymore. Not on the white page with the black words. It’s here now. In the story, like we are.”
“I’ve already done more than I’m permitted to do. I can only ask you: Will you finish your quest?”
“Yes, I’ll finish it.”
She vanished, not with smoke and light as Kane had, but as if she’d never been.
“What the hell do we do now?” Jordan asked. “Go back—somehow—to the beginning of the book and start looking? The lines you remembered were from the prologue.”
“No, we don’t have to go back. I need a minute first.” She stepped to the wall, breathed deep. “Autumn smoke in the air,” she chanted. “The way the moon, a perfect ball, is carved into the sky. Everything—the trees, the valley . . . look, you can just see the river, the way the moonlight glints off the water at the bend of it. It’s all here, every detail.”
“Yeah, nice view. Let’s finish up and go look at it in our world.”
“I like your book, Jordan. I don’t want to live here, but it’s a fascinating place to visit. It’s exactly the way I pictured it. You write a hell of a story.”
“Dana, I can’t do this. I can’t stand thinking about the way you’re lying there back home. You’re so pale, so cold. You look like—”
“Niniane, from Brad’s portrait. One walks.” She gestured to where Rowena had been. “One waits. That would be Niniane, or in reflection, I guess it’s me.” She turned, held out a hand. “I need the key, Jordan.”
He stared at her. “Honey, if I had the key, I’d’ve given it to you long before this.”
“You always had it. You just didn’t know it. I’m the key, and you’re mine. Write it for me, Jordan. Put it in my hand, and let’s go home.”
“All right.” He tried to wrap his mind around it. Then he touched her face and let himself see. “She stood bathed in moonlight. Goddess and lover, with eyes deep and dark with truths. He might have been born loving her, he wasn’t sure. But he knew, without question, that he would die loving her.
“She smiled,” he continued as Dana’s lips curved, “and held out her hand to him. It glittered in her palm, a small, simple thing. The key she’d searched for, fought for. It was old, but bright with promise. A slim bar of gold topped with a swirl of connecting circles in a symbol as old as time.”
She felt the weight of it, and the shape against her palm. Closing her fist around it, she reached for him with her free hand. “It’ll take us back,” she said, “for the epilogue.”
SHE opened her eyes, blinked at the sea of faces, then blinked at her brother. “Auntie Em.”
“Oh, Christ. Dana.” He grabbed her, hauled her up against him, and rocked them both.
“Ouch.” But she was laughing as he hugged her tight enough to crack ribs. “Take it easy. I’ve already got more than enough bumps and bruises.”
“You’re hurt? Where are you hurt?”
“If you can bear to let her go a moment, I’ll tend her.” Rowena touched Flynn’s shoulder.
“I have the key.”
“Yes, I know. Will you trust me with it for now?”
“You bet.” Without hesitation, she put the key in Rowena’s hand. Reaching back for Jordan, she grinned at her friends. “What a ride.”
“You scared the hell out of us.” Malory swallowed back tears. “Both of you.”
“Your face is bruised. Her face is bruised,” Zoe said, and moved in immediately. “Her arm’s bleeding. Oh, her poor throat. Where are the bandages?”
“She won’t need them, little mother,” Pitte stated calmly.
