B00CGOH3US EBOK (8 page)

Returning to the fireside, he unwrapped the object he'd spent the last 216 years guarding with his life.

Lady Jill stopped talking and stood stone still, all color draining from her face.

"Oh, my God. That's it! That's the tapestry!"

Surprised at her claim, Baelin clutched the edges of the tapestry, threatening to rip the woven cloth in his white-knuckled grip.

"Are you certain?"

"Oh, I've never been more sure of anything in my life." She eyed the object that had controlled his fate for over two centuries, her breathing rapid and shallow.

"That's the damn thing that brought me here."

Jill's world tunneled in on the tapestry cradled in Baelin's hands.

She watched him grip it tighter, as if he feared she might try to take it from him.

"You must be mistaken."

"Oh, no. I'd know that damn thing anywhere. It's permanently imprinted on my brain." A sickening feeling churned in the pit of her belly, then crept its way up her throat until it threatened to choke her. "Where did you get it?"

"The tapestry has always been in my possession. I have guarded it every day of my life as a dragon, for it holds the beginning and the end of my curse."

Jill searched her memory, trying to recall the details of the incredible story he'd told her only moments ago. Chills prickled her skin and her breath came in short, desperate gasps. She dreaded asking the question
rat-a-tat-tatting
in her mind like the drum roll before an execution, but she had to know.

"What year is it?"

"'Tis the year of our Lord, 1214."

"Twelve…?" She swayed as she shook her head in denial. "No. No.
Noooo
."

The walls of the cave closed in on her. She stumbled in a circle, desperate to find anything that would snap her back to reality. But everything she saw—a shield, a sword, even the gown she wore—confirmed exactly
where
and
when
she was. She covered her face with her hands, trying to block the objects from her vision, but they remained in her mind's eye, irrefutable evidence of an inconceivable truth.

"This isn't real. This cannot be happening." She staggered toward the mouth of the cave, desperate for fresh air before she passed out. But before she could gain the entrance, a strong arm wrapped around her waist, jerking her back against a rock-hard chest.

"You cannot leave."

Jill struggled against his powerful grip as the acidic taste of bile rose in the back of her throat. "I can't breathe and if you don't let me go, I might heave what little I have in my stomach all over you."

A long moment passed, then the grip on her waist eased. "I will take you."

With his arm still around her, Jill stumbled out onto the ledge and managed to sit before her legs buckled from under her. She dropped her head between her knees and drew in large gulps of air. When she was reasonably sure she wasn't going to faint or vomit or both, she raised her head and looked out over the valley illuminated by the full moon far below.

No city lights glowed in the distance. No headlights passed by on a road below. No beacon blinked atop a cell tower warning planes not to fly too close. Just the unending darkness of an empty, desolate landscape, devoid of even a twinkle of electric-powered light from the twenty-first century.

Somehow—though logic and common sense dictated otherwise—she had traveled back in time. To the freakin' Middle Ages of all places! How was that even possible?

She glanced to where Baelin's steely fingers still circled her arm. "You can let go now. I'm not going anywhere."

"'Tis dangerous." His grip relaxed, but he did not release her. "I do not wish you to…fall."

"I'm fine. Obviously, there's nowhere for me to go." She stared into his dark eyes as he squatted beside her, his shadowed face only inches from her own and way too close for her peace of mind. "What do think I'm going to do? Jump?"

"It has happened before."

"
What?
" She wasn't sure she'd heard him correctly.

"One of the maids…" He glanced away, a muscle twitching in his jaw. "She preferred death to remaining here with me."

Jill peered over the ledge into the dark nothingness far below. Her stomach flipped just imagining such a fall. "You mean she…?"

"Aye. I was not swift enough to stop her." He turned his attention back to her. "Since then I have become much more vigilant in guarding my…guests."

She tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. There was more than concern for her safety in his eyes. They revealed a hurt that ran soul deep at having someone kill themselves rather than stay with him.

"Well, you don't have to worry about me. I kind of like the idea of staying alive."

Those dark eyes bored into hers, searching for something. Pity? Compassion? Understanding? Long moments passed and then finally, with obvious reluctance, he released her and stood. But he did not move far from her side.

Able to breathe once again, Jill hugged her knees tight to her chest. She couldn't let herself feel sorry for the guy. He might be just as demented as those crazy villagers were. For all she knew, he'd tossed the girl off the ledge himself.

But somehow, she knew he was telling the truth. Jill groaned, confused and upset by the conflicting thoughts ping-ponging back and forth in her mind.

"Are you still unwell?" Baelin asked softly behind her.

"Oh, I'm just peachy. When I woke up this morning, it was the twenty-first century and my biggest problem was finding a birthday present for my niece. In the past twenty-four hours, I've somehow been teleported back to the Dark Ages, experienced the strip search from hell, been hog-tied to a stake, and sacrificed to a fire breathing dragon. Can it get any better?"

Jill dropped her head on her raised knees, wanting desperately to cry but not having the energy to do so. None of this was making any sense and yet how else could she explain everything that had happened.

"Forgive me, my lady, but did you say you are from the twenty-first century?"

She sighed heavily, trapping her warm, moist air breath in the folds of her gown. "I was this morning."

"'Tis not possible. To say you are from the future…'tis madness you speak of."

Her head snapped up and she gaped at his disbelieving face.
He
thought
she
was the crazy one?

Jill stood, not liking the way he looked down at her, as if she was some loony mental patient. Now that she was starting to accept the possibility of what happened to her, she was mad. Angry mad. Someone was responsible for this mess and since the lizard king was the only one nearby, he got the bulk of the blame.

"
You
don't believe
me
? This from a man who tells me the queen of bitchy witches put a curse on him? The same person who flew me around in the air as a dragon belching fire though his nose and then morphed into a naked man in front me? Please, tell me exactly what makes my story any more unbelievable than yours, hmmm?"

She tapped her foot, waiting for his answer. He didn't say a word in his defense but uncertainty clouded his eyes.

"Let me see that." She reached for the tapestry, but Baelin pulled back, shielding it as if it were his child instead of a frayed piece of fabric. "Take it easy, I'm not going to hurt it. I just want to look at it."

"I never allow others to touch it."

"Oh, for Heaven's sake, I'll give it right back." When he continued to hesitate, Jill huffed and held up her little finger. "Pinky swear."

Well, that certainly brought a confused look to his handsome face. Guess that wasn't a common saying in the thirteenth century. "Please?"

Baelin finally handed the tapestry to her, though the rigid set of his body told her he'd rather do otherwise.

She carried it back near the firelight so she could examine it more closely. She studied the intricate detail of the weaving, so very familiar to her even though she'd only had a few moments to examine it in the shop. She didn't know how, but deep down in her soul she knew that somehow this tapestry had brought her here.

Jill closed her eyes and hugged the cloth to her chest, wishing with all her heart it would send her back where she came from. She even clicked her heels together three times and chanted "There's no place like home" for good measure. But when she opened her eyes, she was still in the cave with the king of the dragon people staring back at her as if she'd sprouted horns.

She plopped down on the pile of furs, feeling so lost and alone, terrified she was losing her mind. Baelin sat near her, his intense gaze locked on her face.

"You have seen this tapestry, in your time?"

She cocked a brow at him. Did he believe her now? Maybe. Or maybe he was humoring the crazy lady who sees fire-breathing dragons and babbles about time-travel. At this point, she didn't care what he thought of her. She just wanted to go home.

"When did you last see it?" he persisted.

"Today."

"'Tis not possible. It was with me, here in the cave, as it has been for 216 years."

"Stop telling me what is possible or not. I know without a doubt that I saw this in a vintage clothing shop in Carytown this morning. And judging by the ratty look of it, it'd been there for quite a while."

She watched as Baelin turned his attention to the fire, confusion creasing his brow. "But how can that be?"

"I don't know. None of this makes sense. All I can tell you is that, um, twelve, carry the one…" Damn, she sucked at math in her head. "Eight hundred and some years from now, this tapestry is for sale in a shop in Richmond, Virginia."

"You are certain it was the same one?"

"Positive. I mean, it wasn't in as good a condition as it is now, but it had the same dragon, the same knight, the same girl with long, blonde hair."

Baelin shook his head. "But you are mistaken. The maiden in the tapestry does not have yellow hair. She never has."

"What are you talking about? Of course she does." She held the tapestry up to the firelight to show him. "Look right here…"

Jill felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water on her.

There was a girl in the weaving, just like there'd been in the little shop. Only the image had changed. Her hair was now shorter, wavy and light brown in color.

"I don't understand. That's not right." Jill shook her head and examined the tapestry again, trying to recall the details. "Everything's the same except the girl. She had blonde hair. I remember it fell from her shoulders all the way down to her knees. Of course, the last time I saw this thing, it was unraveling along the edges. The girl even has a face now, which she didn't have before."

Baelin snatched the tapestry back and his tan skin paled in the glow of the firelight.

"'Tis not possible. I have guarded this tapestry for over two centuries and in all that time the weave of the maid has never been complete, never shown her likeness." He paused, his voice raspy and low. "Until now. Now, the maiden has a face."

He turned his full attention on her. "And she looks like you."

As the first rays of dawn broke outside the cave, Baelin watched the woman sleep, curled deep in the furs. At least he thought she slept now. She'd fainted when faced with her own image in the tapestry and not woken since. He could hardly fault her for it. He'd nearly swooned himself when he saw how the weaving had changed.

He rubbed his thumb over the woven face of the maid and tried to calm the racing of his dragon heart. In over two centuries, the image of the maiden had never been complete and now it was. Was it a sign? Could this strange woman lying near him possibly be the one to break the curse? After so long, he was afraid to hope.

And her story of how she came from the future still confounded him. How was it possible? She said that where she came from, people did not believe in dragons and yet he himself was proof they existed.

Perhaps in her world without dragons, people could travel through time.

Lady Jill stirred and mumbled something about a mannequin and not wanting any tea. She jolted up, glancing around the cave with wild, startled eyes before they came to rest on him.