Legend of the Sorcerer (32 page)

In love. Was there a chance he felt it, too?

She couldn’t sit still, but she couldn’t disturb him either. He needed the rest.

She slipped from the bed, shivering even though the floor was covered with a thick rug and a fire still burned low in the grate. She dressed quickly and went downstairs, thinking she might help Dilys prepare breakfast.

There was no sign of her in the kitchen. Jordy thought she’d surprise them both and begin breakfast herself, but she had no idea how to use the stove. It couldn’t be too complicated if she could just light the coal. But there were no matches about.

She wandered back to the grand foyer and peeked in the two rooms that were connected to it. Both had high ceilings,
though nothing like Alfred’s chamber. One was lined with bookshelves, but they were empty, as was the room, save for the rug on the floor and the heavy drapes on the tall window.

The other room had a large, bare fireplace and a grouping of furniture in the middle of the room, all underneath white sheets. It struck her then that the place wasn’t dusty. If this was where Alfred had spent his time before coming to Crystal Key, than it had been closed up for twenty-some years. Jordy went to the window and pulled the draperies back. She gasped at the sight before her.

The sun was coming up over the mountain peaks. It was dazzling red, making a gorgeous backdrop to the pristine white snow that lay beneath it. She grabbed her coat from the rack in the hallway and slipped outside. It was freezing and she thought about going back in, but the sunrise was too beautiful to be viewed behind the thick, wavery panes of glass.

She wandered up a small footpath to the left of the house. The house was close to the peak and if she got to the top, the view would be spectacular.

The wind bit at her cheeks and ears and she flipped the collar of her coat up, then stuck her hands in her pockets. It was worth it. This sunrise was like a new beginning.

She thought of Alfred and the pain was still there. She missed him terribly, ached that he’d never see her dragon, that they’d never again walk in his gardens.

But when she looked at this sunrise, she wondered how many he’d seen, perhaps from this very spot, and she felt close to him again, as if he were right there next to her.

“I knew you’d come.”

Jordy whirled around so fast she almost lost her footing. A woman in a dark cloak stood not ten yards away.

“Who are you? Where did you come from?” Had she
been so caught up in her thoughts she hadn’t heard her approach?

“You know who I am.” She stepped closer. “You shouldn’t have left his side, you know.” Her eyes glowed an unnatural shade of bottomless black. Her mouth curved in an evil smile.

Evil. A sick ball of fear formed deep in Jordy’s gut. “Margaron.”

C
ai sat bolt upright in bed. Disoriented, coming out of a deep sleep, it took him a second to process what had awakened him.

He was alone.

“Jordy?”

No answer. The space next to him was cold. A look at the clock told him the sun had barely risen. She was probably downstairs talking to Dilys. Or, knowing Jordy, snooping in Alfred’s chamber for the Pearl. That latter thought should have made him smile.

But it didn’t. He’d smile again when he found out where she was.

He was pulling on his pants when there was a banging on his door.

“Master Malacai, come quick.”

Dilys sounded frantic. Even more so than when she’d come to fetch them back to Alfred’s side.

He flung the door open. Dilys’ white face only jacked up his fear. “What is it? Where’s Jordy?”

She clutched his arm. “Why did ye let her leave yer side? Oh, Master Malacai, she’s got her, too. Dear merciful God.”

His heart plunged to his toes. “Who has her?” he choked out. But he knew. It was what had woken him up.

“Margaron.” Dilys was in a panic. “The poor sweet one. She’s strong, but she won’t stand up to it, Malacai. Margaron will have it in for her. She’s a threat, she is. I should have cautioned you.”

Cai took hold of her shoulders. “Stop it! Listen to me. Where is she, Dilys? Where is Margaron? No more games. You tell me and tell me now!”

“Ye canno’ get to her. No’ without the Pearl.”

Cai shook her even harder, losing his control by the moment. She couldn’t do to Jordy what she’d done to—No. He shut that down completely. It would destroy whatever chance he had to save her. “No more talk of Pearls and magic, Dilys. This is life and death. Jordy’s. Do you hear me? If anything happens to her—Goddammit, tell me where Margaron is.”

Cai’s fury seemed to snap Dilys out of her panic. She wrested her arms from his grasp, her expression now every bit as fierce as his own. “She’s in the ruins. Ye’ve been there. Did ye see her? She saw you. Ye tell me how to get to where she is, if not with magic?”

Cai pushed past Dilys and ran down the hallway. If Margaron were anywhere on the godforsaken mountain he would find her.

Dilys shouted, “If ye go off now, she will surely be lost. Margaron wants the Dark Pearl. It is yer bargaining power for getting Jordalyn back.”

Feeling the cold sweat trickle down his neck, he turned back to her. “Where is it? Get it and let’s go. You can give me instructions on the way.”

“It’s no’ that simple.”

“It is now,” Cai stated. “I’ll be in the car.”

Dilys stood in the hallway.

Cai took the stairs to the foyer, grabbed the keys off the
table, and went to the door. It didn’t open. He yanked, checked the lock, swore, pulled again, then stormed to the rear of the house through the kitchen. No door. By the time he reached the foyer, his fury was complete.

“Dilys!” The roar echoed up the stairs.

She stood calmly at the top of them. “Ye canno’ leave without the Pearl. And ye canno’ take what ye canno’ see.”

She descended the stairs with a small ornate trunk. About a foot long, half as tall and wide.

Cai was shaking. “Dilys, we can’t waste time.” His voice began to break and he used all his will to marshal it back under his control. “I can’t let her suffer.”

“Then you would be wise to listen to me.”

There was anger in Dilys’ voice.

“I’ll do anything, just let’s get on with it,” Cai begged.

“You told your grandfather you wouldn’t fail him. You canno’ fail him in bringing down Margaron, and you canno’ fail him in rescuing Jordalyn. For it is with her the future of the Keeper lies. Do you understand?”

Cai nodded, panic rising again within him.

“It’s no’ in your eyes. Ye’ll say anything, make any promise, but they are hollow unless ye believe.”

She was right, he was willing to do anything, say anything, to make it okay. But he couldn’t force himself to believe in something just because he was told to. Even when Jordy’s life was at stake.

He took a shaky breath and forced his clenched hands to uncurl. “I want to believe, Dilys. I want to do whatever I must to end this. I don’t know what else I can do.”

“Follow me.” She turned to go back up the stairs.

“Dilys, we can’t stay here.”

She turned. “You wish to believe. Until you do, it matters not where we are, for Margaron will be unattainable. As will Jordalyn.”

Rationality told him to batter down the front door if he
had to, to shatter the windowpanes, to escape this sudden asylum, and drive as fast as he could to the ruins. And yet, even if he could break free, would he be searching the ruins in vain? He had been there, and beyond that tumble of rocks, there was nowhere to hide. It was the hardest decision he’d ever had to make.

His thoughts battered, a cold chill crept into in his heart, and he turned to the stairs. He slowly took the first step.

Above him, Dilys smiled and nodded.

Jordy woke up to darkness. It was cold. Damp. She rolled over slowly and instinctively swallowed the moan that came to her lips. She was stiff and sore. Probably from lying on the cold stone. For how long, she didn’t know.

It was too dark to get her bearings, so she lay perfectly still and willed her eyes to adjust to her surroundings. But it was simply too dark.

She focused on recalling what had brought her here and an array of thoughts tumbled through her mind. One image stood out. Margaron.

She shivered and it had little to do with the chill in the air. She very slowly moved to a sitting position. She wasn’t bound or shackled in any way. She seemed to be on the floor, since there didn’t appear to be any end to what she sat upon. She reached out around her, but felt no walls either. She sat still, collecting her wits before making another move.

Margaron. Jordy remembered wondering how a smile that evil, and eyes that cold, could be a part of face so indescribably beautiful. Her features were perfection. Flawless lips, exquisite cheekbones, a high proud forehead, all framed with dark, thick hair that fell well past her shoulders.
Stunning. Angelic. Had it not been for those eyes. And that smile.

She had walked toward her and Jordy remembered not being able to move. Margaron had reached out and touched her face. She recalled shuddering in revulsion, then Margaron’s fingers had slid to her neck. She’d said something Jordy hadn’t been able to understand, in Welsh perhaps? Then her world had gone dark.

It was still dark. Only she was awake now. And she had no idea where she was.

As her head cleared, she thought immediately of Cai. Oh God, he was probably panic-stricken. She would never forgive herself for putting him through the torture of this, and so soon after dealing with Alfred’s death. She had to find some way out of here.

Wherever here was.

It was then she heard the moaning.

Even in her muddled state, she thought she knew what—or who—it was. One of Margaron’s victims.

It was only then it fully struck her.

She was now one of those victims.

She ran her hands over her arms and legs, her face. But her aches and pains seemed to be muscle stiffness only. She recalled once again the empty light in Margaron’s eyes and doubted she would suffer only this.

Tamping down the rising panic and blocking the images of those pictures, the tattooed piece of flesh—having only marginal success in either—she rolled to her knees and carefully, slowly, stood.

As long as she kept thinking, planning, doing something toward getting out of here, the terror wouldn’t consume her.

The moan came again.

It sounded close by. She edged one foot forward and put out her hands. The dark was so damn disorienting she
almost lost her balance. She closed her eyes and pretended she was in a well-lit room, walking across an uneven floor and trying not to bump into furniture. She clung to that vision and moved forward slowly. The room still seemed to sway beneath her feet, but she held her balance.

Her fingers and toes hit the bars at the same time.

She stilled. With great determination, she slowed her breathing with long deep breaths. Then she reached out her other hand and felt for what she knew was there. Prison bars.

She felt along them, hand to hand, bar to bar. The space between each bar was fairly wide, but not wide enough for her to squeeze through. Again, she felt the room spin and she was forced to stop. She rested her head against one bar and held on to the next. Her foot slid forward between them … and dropped down. Gasping, she pulled it back in, then knelt and reached her hand out, and down.

Nothing but air. She crawled along the bars, trying once again not to panic, and realized two things: there was no flooring beyond the bars, and her prison was round.

“If you lie still, the spinning will stop.”

The roughly whispered words stilled her movements. Once she could hear beyond her own pounding heart, she chanced a response. “What spinning?”

A different voice answered. “Why, your bird cage, my finest canary.”

And then it sounded as if a giant match had been struck, and the chamber glowed with the bright yellow light of fire.

She squinted against the sudden brightness, then slowly opened her eyes. She wished she hadn’t.

What she could see now was too surreal to believe.

She was indeed in a cage, suspended by a heavy linked chain from the ceiling somewhere far above. The bars were heavy black iron. Suspended nearby were three others. Two
of them inhabited. One form was curled into a small ball on the floor, unmoving. The other was kneeling, clothes torn and filthy, looking out of swollen, hollow eyes at Jordy.

It was the woman from the photos.

Shaking uncontrollably now, Jordy forced herself to look down. Margaron stood at the doorway. Two enormous torches were now lit on either side. The chamber was immense, very much like Alfred’s. But there the similarity ended. Where Alfred’s had looked like the chamber of some medieval chemist, this looked far more like the chamber of a medieval sadist.

And Jordy knew that was exactly what it was.

“You will not escape your pretty cage, my sweet.”

Jordy didn’t know where she found the courage, but she stood straight and looked down on Margaron. “Go to hell.”

Margaron’s smile faded. She didn’t so much as blink, but there was a heavy jolt, then the sound of screeching metal.