Roses & Thorns (17 page)

Angelique
was touched to see those thorns had been snipped by hand, not by magic. She
pushed her dark hair aside as she sat up and reached for the letters. One she
set aside for a while; it was from her mother. But the other was unsealed, and
she recognized the fine script.

I
am not far, Beloved. The locket will bring me if
you have need.

Forgive my absence. I'd promised to lend Gulden's
kin help in clearing the feast.
Since my magick created many of
the
fire and dancing rings, my magick is needed to banish them.

Shall I see you in our garden for tea? Or if not, I
will seek you here in your chambers.

Drew
Tea? Angelique glanced at the mantel
clock in stunned surprise. It was indeed late in the afternoon. Chagrin at the
decadence melted into wry amusement as she stretched slowly. She luxuriated in
the sweet ache of her body, remembering it was truly a testament to a decadent
sort of night — a night of purely mortal magick and love.

Smiling,
Angelique reached for her mother's letter.

Angelique
was shaking as she bent over the fountain's edge. The words of the reflection
spell lingered in the air. At the sound of footsteps, she turned. With a broken
sob, Angelique held up the letter from Aloysius' household. "When did this
arrive?"

"The
caravan returned just before the fete last night," Drew replied, gently
taking the paper from Angelique. She concentrated on the letter, reading the
lingering signature of time on it. "It arrived yesterday."

"My
mother is dying," Angelique cried. "What time is it in the outside
world?" Angelique pressed anxiously. "How much time has passed
already?"

"You
could not find her with the water spell," Drew said, guiding Angelique
back to the fountain.

"I
couldn't concentrate well enough," Angelique admitted.

"I
will find her for you." Drew's arms encircled Angelique from behind.
"Stay very still and you will see what I see."

Drew
spoke a few soft words and moved her hands, palms downward, over the water. The
trickling of the fountain stopped. The glassy surface stilled and became
mirrored silver. Smoke swirled in the glittering depths. Then images emerged in
hazy, indistinct patterns, and slowly Angelique recognized her mother's room.

"This
place is warded against my visions." Drew’s confused murmur was nearly
inaudible. "That is strange indeed."

"There
is Mama," Angelique whispered.

"She
lives. See the woman who is moving away to sit? She is the nurse."

"Yes.
I see her. I see no death candles nor coins."

"No
candles," Drew agreed, but the mists swirled too thickly to show coins if
they had been laid to the woman’s eyelids. "Let us try another room."

But
the mists became thicker as they moved from room to darkened room.

"Is
it night there, do you think?" Angelique breathed, praying that was the
cause of such stillness.

"Yes,"
Drew replied.

The
images shifted to another room, and Angelique recognized Aloysius' chamber. It
had been so grandly decorated with Drew's own gifts that she barely recognized
it.

"He
should not have kept my things if he did not want me to reach him," Drew
observed. "See how clearly they cast light for our seeing."

"But
he is still barely visible."

"I
should have sent him a four-poster and canopy." There was, however, no
humor in the calm voice.

"Is
there another with him?"

"Has
he a mistress?" Drew asked.

The
thought startled her. Wryly, Angelique remembered Aloysius' mistrust of women
and his lust for gold. "Only his money, I would think." The mists
grew blacker and it became difficult to discern anything in the dusky light.
The picture shifted and they were outside of the house now. The moon glittered,
nearly full. Clouds moved in pale blue streaks across the starry sky.

"See,
it is night, not death."

It
was reassuring to know that was true. Then it seemed as if a rain began. Muddy
waters shimmered across wet cobblestones. Droplets fell. The scene rippled as
if it were a reflection disturbed in a rain puddle and, gradually, the images
melted away.

Angelique
blinked. She glanced up as the pitter-patter of the rain continued. Surprised,
she noted the fountain had begun again. She realized abruptly there was no rain
after all.

Drew
shifted, began to move away, but Angelique grasped Drew's hands and pulled them
tight around her. It was then she felt the trembling in the tall form that
leaned against her, almost needing her support.

"Are
you all right?" Angelique prompted softly. She was afraid to turn around,
least she set the other off balance. The head beside her own nodded wearily,
and she kissed the soft cheek.

Drew
straightened stiffly, blinking as if returning from a dream. Angelique did turn
then, her hands rubbing warmth and strength back into those cold arms. A
faintly derisive laugh met Angelique's worried gaze as Drew admitted, "It
would have been easier to send someone to investigate than to stand here and search
through those mists."

Relieved
that Drew's dry humor had returned, Angelique smiled. "You couldn't know
the place would be warded against you."

"Not
all of it is," Drew amended. A dark frown furrowed her brow. "Just
Aloysius and some of the rooms. Those things are hidden by some sort of
talisman made specifically to hide certain images from me."

"That
was the black smoke?"

"Yes."

Angelique
shivered though the sun was warm.

"He
cannot harm you here," Drew reminded her. The soft timbre of her voice chilled
as she added, "I will never allow him to harm you again." Angelique
nodded, her face against Drew’s chest. She didn't speak for a long moment,
prompting Drew to ask, "There is something more?"

Angelique
pulled away a little. She looked up into Drew's face, her eyes pleading for
understanding. "My mother is dying, Drew. My brothers write that she asks
for me. I want to see her. I need to go back."

Drew
collapsed as if she had been struck. Her face crumpled, her shoulders dipped
and her hands fell; a bleakness more terrible than the haunted hollowness had
ever been seemed to wash suddenly into her dark eyes.

"Drew!"
Angelique sobbed as her fingers clenched at the other's sleeve. Drew pulled.
"Please, Drew! Please try to understand. She's my mother! She's dying. I
must see her. I can't let her die in that house — not in his house! I have to
be there for her. I need to be there!"

Culdun
appeared suddenly at the edge of the gardens, his expression puzzled. "You
called, my Liege?"

"Angelique
wishes to return home, Culdun. See to it at once."

The
Old One rocked back as if struck.

"Only
for a short while!" Angelique cried. "I will come back to you, Drew.
You may ask anything of me but don't ask me not to do this. Don't make me
choose! I love you! How many times must I say it? How many ways must I prove
it? I'll do anything to stay with you! But please, Drew..." Her voice
broke, faltering to a whisper. "I beg of you. Just see this for what it
is. It is not a betrayal of you. Without her, I would not be here to love you
at all —"

Something
flickered across Drew's stricken face. "You would promise to return to
me?"

"Yes!"
Angelique cried. She stepped in front of Drew and took the other woman's hands,
realizing that Drew had heard little of the truth, but had thought instead that
Angelique meant to leave for good. She squeezed Drew's hands and, fastening her
gaze onto the other's dark eyes said, "Feel me, Drew! I am your love. I
belong to you. You cannot cast me aside so easily. We are bound by our hearts,
our bodies, our spirits. If you remember nothing of last night, remember that
at least."

Drew’s
eyes flashed as if she did not believe Angelique’s words. In a voice that rang
with challenge, she said, "Then you will marry me."

Quietly,
Angelique opened a hand and uttered her spell. The silver rose appeared on her
palm. She offered Drew the token, her voice steady and firm. "I will marry
you."

There
was a pause, until Drew lifted the rose from Angelique's palm. She took a step
away, turning the token over and over. When she turned back, she said,
"You said I can ask anything of you?"

Angelique
stiffened, but she nodded.

"I
ask that you return in two weeks time."

Angelique's
stomach quivered at the brief span allotted. Death was not always a predictable
occurrence.

"If
you do not," the voice grew hushed, "my magick may not be able to
reach you to bring you back at all."

"Remember,
this valley shifts in time," Culdun said softly. He stood quite near her
now, and he met her searching gaze evenly. "Because you are mortal and live
here, we are somewhat bound to your time and birthplace. But when you are gone
—" He shrugged solemnly. "We may wait two weeks. After that, we might
not be able to fetch you even by an overland excursion."

"If
all my studies of the stars and the powers are finally correct, there will be a
new moon in two weeks." Drew straightened, turning again to face
Angelique. "My magick will be at its strongest and our worlds will be one.
Even if your father grows fearful and wards the entire county against my sorcery,
I will still be able to open your way home."

Drew
extended her hand. In the palm lay a brooch of ivory and pearl. Angelique
gasped, recognizing the symbol of the intertwined snakes. The ivory made them
into ghostly images of the Old One's designs.

"This
is my talisman for your protection in the outside world. It carries the ancient
strength of my friends' world and taps the powers of my own magick."

Drew
came near and folded the talisman gently into Angelique's palm. "And it
carries a piece of my soul as well."

Angelique
lifted startled eyes to her lover's.

"Return
and make me whole, Angelique."

"But
what if something should happen to it?" Angelique breathed in horror,
unwilling to lose both the women she loved so dearly in this life.

"I
am immortal, beloved."

"But
that does not protect you from being hurt!" Angelique rasped.

"I
will be fine. Once you return to me." Slender fingers silenced Angelique’s
unspoken protest. "Return and be mine."

"I
am already yours, my Liege," she whispered, kissing Drew’s fingertips.
"I promise I will return."

"To
marry me?"

"Yes.
I will hold you to the marriage by your very own vow."

"By
our vow, my Lady."

Culdun
escorted Angelique down the winding cobblestone lane as far as the valley
gates. She took horses laden with fine clothes and gifts. Aloysius and her
brothers would expect as much of her now, she knew. But it was not a thing that
made the going easier. Stepping through those gates into Drew's magick portal,
and stepping out into Aloysius' court, had taken more courage than she had ever
known she possessed.

The
selfishness and delighted greed of her two brothers in response to the gifts
had been oddly reassuring. But it was one of the few things she found
unchanged. Ivan's polished manners she found especially disconcerting. The
all-too-ready smile puzzled her as she thought the veneer was too thin to mask
the cruel glint lurking behind his eyes. Angelique still remembered well the
rough riding lessons he had given her as a youngster, and the numerous falls she
had endured in the stone court.

However,
the introduction of Ivan's new wife explained much of his surface changes. The
woman, Marguerite, had been widowed twice, and each time she had taken over the
management of the shops and trading contracts of her late husbands' businesses.
Angelique had shivered at the meeting. Aloysius had not arranged this marriage;
those two were too well matched. Greed for greed, plot for plot, the pair would
probably rule the Continent's trade before the end of the decade.

Her younger
brother, Phillip, she found she could only pity. His head-strong willfulness
had become drunken pettiness in the brief year she'd been gone. She supposed
there was little else she should have expected, between the sudden arrival of
so much wealth and the taunting of his older brother. Marguerite's arrival
couldn't have helped matters either, since she viewed his drunkenness as an
impediment to his usefulness in forming another trading liaison through
marriage.

Yet
it was her mother's cheerful greeting that puzzled Angelique the most.
Certainly she had grown a year older, but money had brought wood and good food
which had, in turn, brought a faint bit of color back into her cheeks. The
nurse and chambermaid were nearly as delighted as her mother to see the fine
woman their charge was always talking of, and they were pleased to know the
letters had been so well received.