Читать книгу Blood of the Sorceress - Maggie Shayne - Страница 8

Lilia walked with her two sisters along the path that meandered from Indira and Tomas’s fairy-tale cottage high on the craggy mountainside beyond the forest, down to Magdalena and Ryan’s reclaimed vineyard, Havenwood. The trees were just beginning to show tiny buds as late March went out like a lamb, morphing into April. It was warm, and the sun was beaming down from a blue sky. And though there was little vegetation, you could smell spring in the air.

Halfway along the path, they emerged onto a level spot with a waterfall out of a storybook splashing into a small rocky pond. Beyond the pond was a cliff, and far below, Cayuga Lake.

“The cave is behind the falls,” Indy said. “That’s where the Portal was. Still is, I guess.”

Magdalena stared at it but didn’t move any closer. Lilia saw the fear on her face. “You really want us to go in there?” she asked.

“We have to close it, Lena,” Lilia said. “We can’t leave a portal to the Underworld just hanging open.” They’d all agreed earlier that closing the Portal should be their first order of business on this, Lilia’s first day there, but now that they were facing it, Lena appeared to be having second thoughts.

“Come on, it’ll be fun.” Indy clapped her sister on the shoulder. “Our first spell together in three-thousand, five-hundred years. What’s not to like about that?”

Lena didn’t even crack a smile.

When they’d gotten home late the night before, it had been decided that Lilia would stay with Indy and Tomas at their cottage. Lena’s place, though larger, was already housing her and Ryan, along with Ellie and Lena’s mother, Selma. Bahru, the Hindu holy man Ryan had sort of inherited from his father, occupied the guest cottage but spent most of his time in the house. He’d become the world’s most unconventional nanny, Lena said. He was almost as attached to the baby as her parents were.

Indy cleared her throat, drawing Lilia’s attention back to the matter at hand. The Portal. “You have to dash through the edge of the waterfall to get into the cave,” Indy said. “We’ll get wet.”

“I remember.”

Indy frowned. “But you’ve never been here before.”

Lilia only smiled and cupped her cheek. “Big sister, I’ve been watching everything play out. You know that. You saw me.”

“In mirrors. In visions. And then at the end—”

“I was here with you. I saw it all, the struggle right here and that twisted old priest, Father Dom, falling from the cliff after trying to kill you. Attacked by a wolf.” She shook her head sadly for a moment, then smiled. “A wolf under the control of Demetrius, you’ll recall. A trace of the man he once was, shining through. He couldn’t let you die. Just as he couldn’t try to take your baby,” Lilia said, shooting her eyes to Magdalena’s and holding them by force. “Right at the end, he couldn’t go through with it. You know that.”

“I don’t know any such thing.” But Lena averted her eyes.

“And just before that wolf came,” Lilia said, turning to Indy again, picking up where she’d left off, “your brave, beloved Tomas threw himself in front of a bullet for you and was gravely wounded. It was I who healed him.”

Indy’s look of surprise changed instantly. Her face went soft, and she wrapped her arms around Lilia so hard it almost hurt. “I knew it was you,” she whispered. “Thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome.”

When she could pull away from her sister’s fierce embrace, Lilia looked into her eyes. “It’s what this whole thing was about from the start.”

“What is?” Indy asked.

“Love. It’s all about love. Love destroyed, love denied, love betrayed, love that outlives death and defies all the rules of the Universe to fulfill itself. Your love for Tomas. Lena’s love for Ryan. My love for Demetrius. Demetrius’s love for the King he murdered to try to save us, because of his love for me. All of that is eating away at him, still, though I don’t think he remembers any of it. It’s still there in his fractured soul, the love. It’s all the same. All of it. If we can focus on the love, we’ll get through this.”

Indy nodded very slowly, then glanced over at Lena as if to make sure she was listening. She was. Raptly.

Coming closer, Lena asked, “Do you still have the ability to heal people, Lilia?”

“No more than a garden variety witch has, which is plenty. Being in spirit form it was just a more direct current to Source, I think. But I did bring a little something extra with me.”

“What?” Lena asked, her eyes eager.

Lilia was glad to give her something to distract her from her fear. “I have the power of enchantment. I can get anyone to do anything I want—with the usual limitations, of course. It can’t go against their true will. I just sing my will to them.”

“Nice,” Indy said as Lena grinned and nodded her agreement.

A cold breeze whispered across Lilia’s neck, and she shrugged deeper into the shawl she’d borrowed from Indy. “What about the two of you?” she asked. “Once the magical tools were returned to Demetrius, did your powers go with them?”

“No,” Indy said, speaking before Lena could. “I was going to ask you about that next. I still have the telekinesis.” Indy looked around, spotting a pomegranate-sized rock on the ground near the falls and pointing at it. “Watch.” She waved her arm with a flourish, and the rock shot into the air, arcing across the front of the waterfall and then splashing down into the pond.

Lilia smiled broadly. “Very handy!”

“I’m kick-ass at martial arts, too, without a day of formal training. But mostly I never have to land a blow. I can strike without touching, at least physically.”

“It’s the energy that hits them.” Lilia nodded toward the pond. “Can you put the rock back?”

Indy shrugged. “Never tried.” She pointed toward the ripples still radiating from the surface of the blue-green water, swung her arm again, and the rock burst out and sailed in the general direction it had come from, hitting the ground and rolling several more feet before bumping to a stop against a tree trunk.

Lilia nodded. “You can slow it down, move things deliberately, precisely. It just takes practice.”

“I can?” Indy looked at her forefinger. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

“What about you, Magdalena? Did any of your powers remain after your mission was accomplished?”

“Scrying.” She walked to the pond and looked at the water. “I’ve always been very good at that, ever since I was little, seeing visions of our past in ancient Babylon in my mother’s scrying mirror. But the ability seemed to get turbocharged when I had the chalice. And that didn’t fade away after the chalice vanished. Give me a cup of water or a candle flame or anything, really, to focus on, and I can see all sorts of information in it.”

“And sometimes she gets visions without even looking for them. They just pop into her head,” Indy put in.

“‘Where the rippling waters go, cast a stone and truth you’ll know,’” Lilia quoted softly. “Can you ask for and receive specific information?”

“I try. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t, and some unrelated random thing pops up instead.”

Lilia nodded. “You’ll get better with practice, too. Though I don’t imagine we’ll get to keep our abilities very long. We set all this into motion long ago, to restore an innocent man’s soul and free him from a prison beyond imagining. The Gods allowed it, apparently even granted us the skills and powers we’d need to make it happen. But once Demetrius accepts the final soul-piece, our mission ends. We’ll probably go back to being normal.” She looked from one sister to the other. “Or as normal as any witch can be.” Her sisters laughed, and she felt herself tearing up. She knew that if Demetrius refused her, she would die and be separated from her sisters again for a long time. But she pushed that thought away. “It’s so good to be together again.”

“Group hug,” Lena said, pulling her sisters into her arms. They leaned their heads against each other, and Lilia closed her eyes and saw them as they had been so long ago. Three harem slaves, with wild raven hair and deep brown eyes that hid the mysteries of the forbidden craft taught to them in secret by their mother.

They’d died together. While casting one final spell together. And together they were going to bring it to completion at long last.

Finally they separated again, and it was Lena who looked at the cave. “Let’s get this done,” she said. “I want to get back to the baby.”

Together they strode to the falls, pulling their shawls over their heads and dashing through the icy spray into the darkness beyond. Indy drew a flashlight from her backpack and clicked it on, aiming the beam down nature’s dark corridor. “This way,” she said.

As they began walking every step echoed, and even Lilia felt a shiver of fear rasp up her spine after they’d gone a couple of hundred feet. “We’re close,” she said. “I feel it.”

“It’s right here.” Indy pointed at a smooth stone wall without a single unusual characteristic. “Or at least, it was.”

“Maybe it closed on its own,” Magdalena said, reaching toward the wall.

Lilia caught her wrist, stopping her from touching. “It’s still here. You just can’t see it until someone activates it, or there’s an energy surge or something. Watch.”

She bent low, picked up a pebble and tossed it at the wall. It did not ping against the stone and bounce back. It vanished instead, swallowed by a soft blue glow. And then the wall changed before their eyes as that glow widened, morphing into a swirling oval of blues and greens that looked like sparkling water but defied gravity.

“Yep,” Indy said. “That’s just how I remember it.”

“Get the gear out, Indy,” Lena said.

“I’m on it, I’m on it.” Indy was already pulling her backpack around, kneeling, removing items one by one. A shell, a sandwich bag filled with herbs, a vial of holy water, a lighter, a geode, a box of sea salt, a red candle. She set the items down on the cave floor, quickly filling the geode with sea salt and the shell with the herbs.

“Ready,” Indy said then. “Let’s kick the tires and light the fires, ladies.”

They moved to form a circle around the items on the cave floor, then stood still, eyes closed, heads lowered, as they prepared themselves for magic. When Lilia lifted her head, the others did, as well, and when she looked into their open eyes, they had turned dark brown, just as they’d been in the past, almost black, channeling the witches they had been, melding them with the witches they were now.

Lena picked up the geode filled with salt and spoke in a voice that was deeper, more powerful than her usual tones. “What was open, Earth now seals.” She moved the dish of salt in a widdershins circle, spiraling it inward, making smaller and smaller passes each time.

The swirling oval grew smaller as she worked, and then she stepped back and placed the salt back on the floor. Then Lilia picked up the shell, which was filled with angelica, sage and rosemary. Touching the lighter to the herbs, she got them smoking thickly, then stepped forward. “What was open, Air now seals.” She moved the smoking herbs in the same counterclockwise spiral pattern, and the Portal continued to shrink.

She stepped back and placed the smoking herbs on the floor but let them continue to smolder.

Indira stepped forward with the red candle, its flame dancing. “What was open, Fire now seals.” She moved the candle in the same diminishing spiral. The candle flame hissed and spat and shot higher, until the Portal was only about eighteen inches in diameter.

Lilia picked up the vial of holy water and removed its ornate stopper. This time, they stepped forward together, Lilia in the middle, shaking the bottle at the Portal, sprinkling it with droplets of water, her hand following the same shrinking spiral pattern. “What was open, Water now seals,” she said.

Then they all spoke as one. “What was open, the Goddess now seals.” They moved their hands in unison, shrinking the swirls of light on the wall.

The Portal became a tiny dot of unnatural light that could have come from someone shining a laser pointer at the stone face. Lilia stood very close to it. “Thank you for what you returned to me, Portal. Your task is complete. Your energy can now return to Source.” She gazed at the dot and snapped her fingers.

It blinked out.

“It is done,” she said.

Both her sisters sighed in relief. Indy starting picking up the items they’d used, blowing out the candle, smothering the herbs until they stopped smoking. She dumped the remaining herbs in a line in front of where the Portal had been, right along the edge of the wall, and poured the salt alongside them.

Lena dug several little herb sachets from the backpack. “Same herbs we just used, and some onyx to boot. Just to make sure it stays closed.” She lined the tiny drawstring pouches up in a row beside the herbs and salt on the floor.

“Can’t be too careful,” Lilia said, dampening her fingertip in holy water and drawing an equal-armed cross on the now-solid stone wall. Then she poured the remaining holy water along the barrier they had created on the floor.

When everything was packed up, they headed out of the cave and started hiking back down the hill, toward Lena’s place, Havenwood, where her mother was preparing a massive welcome home dinner to celebrate Lilia’s arrival “properly.”

“I’m surprised that went so well,” Indy said. “Tomas and I tried to close it once before, you know. I didn’t realize we’d failed.”

“I think it’ll stay closed this time,” Lilia said. “But we’ll check periodically to make sure. I’m afraid the challenge we face is the biggest one yet, and we can’t afford to have astral nasties popping in and out of existence on top of it. We’ll need to keep all our focus on what’s ahead.”

“Damn.” Lena lowered her head. “I was hoping the worst was over.”

“I’m afraid not.” Lilia felt sympathy for her but quickly shifted her attention to Indira. I’m going to need the box, Indy. The Witches’ Box.”

Indy nodded. “I have it. But I’ve read all the scrolls in there, and I don’t think there’s anything that’s going to help.”

“Still …”

Indy nodded. “I’ll get it for you tonight, after dinner.”

“Thanks, sister.” Lilia stretched her arms out to her sides, looking down at them with a smile. “It feels good to be human again. Well, almost human.”

“I’ll bet.”

Lena had been silent during this entire exchange, but finally she spoke. “Lilia, what’s going to happen? You said it would be the toughest challenge yet, and you told us before we’d need to get our loved ones out of the way when the time comes, but why? What exactly are we fighting here? I mean, I thought this was as simple as Demetrius making a choice. Either he accepts his remaining soul-piece or he doesn’t, right? So what’s the big deal?”

Lilia licked her lips, trying to form an answer she didn’t really want to give, and then was saved by a soft buzz-buzz coming from Indy’s jeans pocket.

Indy quickly pulled out her cell phone. “Text from Tomas.” Then her expression changed. “Oh, my Goddess.” She looked from the screen to her sisters. “The hospital phoned him. Father Dom came out of his coma this morning. He’s awake and alert.”

“On this day of all days,” Lilia said, shaking her head. “The same day Demetrius first used the tools, the day he called me back into existence. This can’t be a coincidence.”

“There’s no such thing as coincidence,” Lena said softly. “We’d better get home.”

Lilia stopped shoving food into her mouth when she realized that everyone was looking at her. Of course, as soon as they saw her noticing, they all returned to their own lasagna dripping with cheeses and sauce and stuffed with mushrooms and vegetables. The bowl beside her plate, where a fresh green salad had been, was all but licked clean. She realized she had consumed about a square foot of the main course within the first three minutes of its arrival. And a couple of slices of warm, buttery garlic bread, too.

She laid her fork down, sipped from her water glass, then set it carefully on the table. “I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed food,” she said. “The sensual pleasure of eating is … I think when you do it every day you forget how incredible it is. All those flavors bursting on your tongue. The taste, the texture. Oh, it’s so good.”

Selma, Magdalena’s mother, smiled at her. She’d been smiling at her the entire evening, and it had been all Lilia could do not to fling herself into the older woman’s arms. But all in good time. “I think that’s the best compliment my cooking has ever received,” she said softly.

“Then,” Bahru said, “we’ve all been lax in our praise. Your culinary skills are unmatched, Selma.” He was a bronze-skinned Hindi who wore red-and-white robes, sandals, dreadlocks halfway down his back and a matted beard.

Lilia sighed. “It’s a shame Demetrius won’t be able to enjoy food like this.”

“He won’t?” Tomas asked. “Why not?”

“Well, he’s still missing a part of his soul. The part I carry with me. When Indy returned the amulet to him, he received the soul-piece it held, and that let him escape the Underworld through the Portal. And, Lena, when you relinquished the chalice and the blade, you gave him a body.”

“Not the body he thought I was going to give him, though,” Lena said, glancing at the wicker cradle in the living room with a combination of love and ferocity.

Lilia nodded. “He was imprisoned, inhuman, a soulless beast raging against his captivity for so long—it’s understandable he was mixed up. And I know you couldn’t see him at the end, my sister, but I could. He changed his mind. He wouldn’t have gone through with it. I know this. He was confused—”

“Confused is putting it mildly, Lilia,” Ryan said. He sat at the table’s head, Lena at its foot. “He used some kind of mind control on people. On me, even.”

She nodded. “I know. I saw it all. He’s powerful.”

“Still?” Ryan asked, pressing on. “I mean, now that he’s got a human body, is he human, or is he … something else?”

“And is he still dangerous?” Lena asked.

Lilia lowered her head, but it was Selma who answered. “Why don’t we let Lilia enjoy her first full-fledged meal in thirty-five-hundred years and discuss this later, over coffee and dessert?”

Everyone muttered, but they nodded all the same.

Lilia was grateful and sent Selma a loving look while deciding it was time to tell her the truth. “You are mothering all of us, Selma, even though you’re only Magdalena’s mother … in this lifetime.”

Selma stilled with her fork halfway to her lips and lifted her head. “In this lifetime?”

Lilia smiled warmly. “We didn’t get to stay with you for very long, Selma. Teenagers in those days were adult enough to leave home. But you taught your three daughters well. If you hadn’t, our powers then wouldn’t have enabled us all to be here now. Together. About to set things right after thirty-five centuries.”

“I was …” Selma’s voice broke.

“Our mother. You were our mother in Babylon.”

Selma dropped her fork to her plate with a clatter and looked at each of the women in turn, her eyes beginning to shimmer. “I knew it. I felt it.”

Sitting beside her, Bahru put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Lilia sighed and set her napkin down. “It seems odd, me being the youngest but knowing more of what’s going on than the rest of you. It’s unfair to make you wait any longer for the answers you’ve been looking for all this time. And I’ve eaten so much already that my belly is straining to hold it. So I will tell you what I know.”

“It’s about time,” Indy muttered, but she gave Lilia a wink to temper the words. “I thought we might have to stick bamboo shoots under your nails to get you to talk.”

Lilia frowned—even though Indy’s grin said she was kidding—failing to see the humor in such a notion. She dabbed her mouth with her napkin, and then she began.

“Demetrius came into humanity with the knowledge that he was human once, but no real memory of what that means. He doesn’t know of our history. Didn’t even—” Her throat tightened. She loosened it with another sip of water. “He didn’t even recognize me when I first appeared in physical form.” It hurt to admit that. But there it was.

“He came forth with the intention to experience every human pleasure. But without the final piece of his soul, his senses are dulled. He can’t taste the deliciousness of food or see the beauty of nature. He won’t understand why people take pleasure from music or a warm, soft pillow. He won’t realize what he’s missing, of course, having no basis for comparison.”

“But he is human?” Tomas asked.

“He is. Sort of. He’s also immortal—for the moment, anyway. His injuries will heal rapidly. Nothing will kill him. And he can’t become ill.” She went silent, rubbing her hands together in her lap.

“And what else?” Indy asked. “C’mon, spill it. I can see there’s more.”

Lilia looked up at the sister who sat beside her. “He has the same powers you received from the amulet, Indira.”

“Telekinesis,” Indy whispered.

Nodding, Lilia looked to Magdalena. “And he has the powers you received from the chalice, Lena. The ability to scry and find any knowledge he seeks.”

“And he has the dagger,” Ryan said softly. “That thing’s like an unregistered WMD.”

Lilia didn’t understand the reference, and it must have shown on her face.

“Weapon of mass destruction,” Ryan said.

She nodded in agreement. “Also, using the two together, he can manifest anything he desires. Turn any wish into physical reality.”

The baby fussed, and Bahru was on his feet before any of them, hurrying to the cradle in the next room. Lena had started to get up, but she relaxed into her chair again with a grateful look the guru’s way. Then she faced Lilia again. “What special power did you bring back with you, Lilia?”

“I hold a piece of my love’s soul,” Lilia said, lowering her head to hide the wave of longing that rose in her when she acknowledged that tiny part of him that remained in her possession.

“Is it embedded in some magical tool?” Tomas asked.

“No. It’s in my heart. Where it’s always been. I’m bound to him through it. I can find him anywhere he goes. The rest of his soul cries out for it, the way the moon pulls at the Earth. It’s a constant effort to resist. But as I said at the hospital, I must give him some time.”

“And what else?” Indy asked, getting up from the table and beginning to gather the plates, since everyone had finished eating. Selma got up to help, as did Bahru, who handed Ellie to her mother first.

“I’m immortal, impervious to illness or injury—as long as my body isn’t destroyed—just as he is.”

Everyone went silent and just stared at her. It was Indy who finally spoke. “Uh, in case you’ve forgotten, baby sis, your impervious immortal is in the hospital right now.”

“He’s most likely fully healed by now. I imagine this was the Gods’ way of making sure he and I have time enough here in the physical realm to fulfill our destiny. If one of us were to be killed before Demetrius has the opportunity to make the decision he must make, it would be a terrible waste of all our efforts.”

She pressed a hand to her throat. “If I die before Beltane, in a way that prevents me from reviving, with his soul-piece still inside me, it will die forever. The rest of his soul-pieces will die slowly without it, and he will expire into a death from which there is no return. He will simply cease to exist.”

“That’s unbelievable,” Ryan said, getting up to help with the cleanup. Lilia did likewise, but as she passed her sister’s chair carrying the lasagna tray, Lena gripped her arm.

“What about the baby?” Magdalena asked. “Demetrius wouldn’t have any reason to want to hurt her, would he, Lil?”

“No. None. And you needn’t worry about his powers, either. Once he receives the final part of his soul he’ll return to being an ordinary mortal again, to live out an ordinary lifetime without any extraordinary abilities. And so will I. And so, I imagine, will each of you.”

“Right,” Indy said. “So what’s the catch?”

“I don’t—”

“She means it sounds too easy,” Lena said as Bahru returned to the table. “There’s more to it, isn’t there? Otherwise you’d have given him back the final piece already.”

Lilia lowered her head, nodded once. “Yes. First he has to be given time to experience life, as he is now. And then I have to offer him his soul-piece back, explaining that he must give up his powers and immortality if he accepts it.”

“You mean he gets a choice?” Ryan asked.

Lilia nodded. “Yes. The choice has to be his.”

Everyone looked at each other, and then Indy said, “Who in their right mind would accept if it means giving up immortality, immunity to illness, rapid healing and superpowers, sis? I mean, what’s the upside for him?”

“Oh, so much,” Lilia said softly. “He’ll be able to experience being human—fully. His senses will no longer be dulled. Being human is a highly sensual experience—we don’t get that when we’re in spirit form. The tastes and smells, the sounds and visual beauty. The sense of touch, of physical pleasure, none of that exists where there’s no body, and for him, they’re mere shadows compared to the fullness and richness he’ll experience with his soul intact.”

Tomas set his napkin on the table, chewed his lip for a moment, and then said softly, “What if he chooses not to accept?”

Of them all, Lilia knew, he was most familiar with their story, with the curse, the legends and mistaken interpretations, the history. Clearly he understood that all of it, the entire three-thousand, five-hundred-year cycle, was coming to an end with her arrival and Demetrius’s decision.

“If he chooses not to accept his soul-piece, then at the precise moment of Beltane, he will die. He’ll be released into the afterlife, and it will go there to join him. There he’ll process all he’s learned, rest and understand, and reincarnate again if he so desires.” She lowered her head, not wanting to finish, but knowing they had a right to know the whole of it. “And so will I.”

Her sisters shot to their feet, shouting denials, but Lilia held up her hands. “I’ve been allowed to linger all this time to right the wrong that was done so many years ago. The Gods allowed that as a way of correcting the imbalance, righting the dreadful wrong committed against us. But you all know it’s not the natural order. We’re supposed to live, to die, to rest, to live again. We’ve been allowed to circumvent the natural order. For three-thousand, five-hundred years, you have reincarnated lifetime after lifetime with the same names, with the memories ready to return to you—with the same loves you lost then reincarnating with you to give you a chance to find each other again.

“And I’ve been allowed to linger between life and death, to watch over you, to call you to action when the time was right. None of that is natural. And it all comes to an end now, with me. But we must not—cannot—tell Demetrius that part of it. He has to make his decision out of the desire to be fully human, to embrace life and love again, not out of fear of death. We all know death is nothing to fear, anyway.”

Selma was using her napkin to dab a tear from the corner of her eye, and the others were looking shocked and afraid.

Lilia realized she’d risen to her feet in the fervor of her speech. She got hold of herself, took a deep breath and sat down again. “I will know when the time is right to go to him,” she said softly. “I’ll feel it. But until then, I’m here. We’re all here, together. Let’s enjoy this time while we have it.”

Tomas looked troubled but nodded in agreement. “She’s right.”

“I know that look,” Indy said, staring at her husband. “What are you thinking, hon?”

“That Father Dom waking up from a coma on the same day your sister arrived is … too unlikely to have happened by chance,” he said. “Lilia, do you think there’s a connection?”

“I’m certain of it.”

Tomas lowered his eyes, and Lilia realized he’d been hoping she would give a different answer. “I’ll go see him,” he said. “I had no intention of ever talking to him again, not that I expected it to be an option. When the hospital called to tell me he was awake and asking for me, I—” He broke off, then took a breath, cleared his throat and went on. “But maybe I need to see what I can find out.”

“It wasn’t his fault, what he did,” Lilia told him, watching his face, knowing this was a sore subject. Father Dominick had been like a father to him and then betrayed him bitterly.

Anger rose in Tomas’s dark eyes. “He tried to kill the woman I love. He drugged my sister. He lied to me about who and what I was. He—”

“He was playing his part in a complex story far too old for him to have understood fully, Tomas,” she told him. “I know you feel betrayed, but … you’re a spiritual man. Don’t you understand that things happen the way they’re supposed to, and that sometimes even bad things, things we hate and curse, we later realize happened for very good reasons? To move us on toward where we want to go. To make room for better things to arrive.”

He blinked twice and shook himself as if she’d hit him between the eyes with a mallet.

“I think it might be a good idea if I go with you to see him,” Lilia said. “Chances are he’s still a part of this. Possibly being manipulated by unseen forces, even now.”

He nodded. “I’ll call the hospital, make the arrangements. We can go first thing in the morning.”

They all continued clearing until the table was bare and gleaming, and the dishwasher was chugging softly. As everyone but Tomas gathered in the living room, sitting comfortably around the fireplace, Selma brought around coffee and dessert, eventually taking a seat herself. Tomas had gone off to make his phone call, and now he returned. He looked pensive.

“What’s up, babe?” Indy asked, reading his face.

He met her eyes, frowning and shaking his head. “Father Dom. He’s … gone.”

“He died?” Indy whispered.

Tomas blinked out of his state and focused on his wife. “No, no, he’s not dead. He’s gone. He got up and walked out of the hospital. They tried to stop him, they couldn’t even believe he was strong enough, but …” His frown deepened. “What the hell is he thinking?”

Gus pushed Demetrius’s wheelchair through the hospital corridors toward the exit, because that was hospital policy. Demetrius didn’t think much of it, but Gus was having a ball, so he put up with it. Besides, he’d already upset the staff by checking himself out before they’d deemed him healed. He, however, knew that he was.

Gus was brimming over with childlike excitement. “Wait till you see our ride, boss. We’re finally getting what we deserve outta this life, let me tell you that.”

The automatic doors opened at their approach. Demetrius was looking behind him to ask Gus what he was talking about, but then he turned and saw the gleaming black stretch limo through the open doors, and blinked. “Are you kidding me?”

There was a man in a chauffeur’s cap standing beside the car, holding a passenger door open. He was young, a green-eyed redhead with a friendly smile and a smattering of freckles across his nose and spilling onto his cheeks. “Mr. Demetrius, Mr. Gus,” he said with a friendly nod. “I’m Sid, I’m your driver.”

Demetrius got out of the wheelchair and shook the kid’s hand. “Sid. And, um, where exactly will you be driving us?”

“To the airport, sir. Mr. Nelson’s private jet is waiting to take you to his—that is, to your new home.” He beamed.

“A private jet,” Demetrius repeated, because the words were not making sense in his brain quite yet.

“He said nothing but the best for you, Mr. Demetrius. And I’m assigned to you for as long as you need me.”

“Assigned to me?”

Sid gave a shrug and a smile. “Your right-hand man.”

“I’m his right-hand man.” Gus’s tone was unfriendly.

Sid laughed. “Don’t be silly, Mr. Gus. I’m the employee. You’re the boss.”

“I’m the boss?”

“Well, one of them, anyway.”

Gus looked at Demetrius and then back at Sid again, smiling this time. “Well, let’s get this show on the road, then.”

“Yes, sir!”

Gus climbed into the back of the limo and made himself comfortable. Demetrius got in beside him, wondering if he’d hit his head during the accident and was dreaming all of this.

But he didn’t wake up, and everything seemed to flow in logical order, so he didn’t think so. Within an hour they were flying through the skies in an airplane, Sid in the passenger cabin along with them.

“Do you need anything to make you more comfortable?” Sid asked. “It’s going to be hours before we land.”

“Is there any food on this bird?” Gus asked. “’Cause I’m so hungry I could—”

“I’d like to get this cast off, Sid,” Demetrius interrupted. “Is there anything I could use to cut it?”

Sid looked a little alarmed. “But it’s only been a few days since your accident.”

“I know, but …” He shot a quick look at Gus, seeing the same kind of worry in his eyes. “The doctor was being overly cautious. Nothing was actually broken.”

“It most certainly was,” Gus said. “Your arm was broke in three places. I was there when the doc showed you the X-rays.”

“He misread them, Gus. My arm is fine.” And it was. It had been since about twenty-four hours after the accident. He’d felt the bones knitting and known that he was healed. Every other injury had vanished, too. Where he had been scraped and cut, he now had smooth tanned skin without a mark on it. Where he’d been bruised, there was nothing. His pain was gone. He thought he might be immortal. At the very least, he had supernatural powers. He healed in a single day. He had a cup and a knife that could make his wishes come true, and he had a blonde from some other realm stalking him. He didn’t know what had existed before the void. But he was sure there had been something, and he was suddenly very curious to know what. And whether it would explain his current abilities.

In the meantime, he intended to enjoy everything life had to offer.

Sid brought him a steak knife, and he proceeded to divest himself of the cast. He made a mess of it, scattering white dust and fragments all over the carpeted floor, but Sid assured him he needn’t worry about it. When his arm was free, though dust-coated, he turned it, bent it, moved his wrist and elbow. “That’s better,” he said.

Sid and Gus looked at him as if he’d just walked on water. But he pretended not to notice, put his seat back and closed his eyes.

He didn’t wake until they landed, and as he leaned forward to look out the tiny window beside his seat he saw a barren wasteland.

“Where are we?”

“Arizona,” Gus said. “Don’t worry. It gets much more colorful where we’re going. You just relax, the journey’s almost over.”

He’d certainly traveled far, Demetrius thought. Perhaps too far for the blonde woman to track him down again. He hoped so.

Then why did something inside him ache at the thought? He didn’t even know her.

Soon he was in the back of another limo, with Sid driving once again, and two hours after that, give or take, they were winding through fascinating scenery. Sid and Gus were oohing and ahhing and pointing as they passed towering rock formations of rust red, fronted by acres of desert. Demetrius thought the colors were interesting. Different, certainly, but hardly worthy of all the fuss they were making. They were just rocks, after all.

They drove through Sedona, heading north, then turned onto a side road. To the left were more of those massive red rocks. To the right, a sprawling, gated mansion where he figured some celebrity must live.

“Well? What do you think?” Gus asked.

“What do I think about what?” Then he realized the limo was turning toward the closed wrought-iron gate, which opened to allow it to move slowly through. The gate, he noted at last, bore two entwined N’s.

Beyond the tall gate lay paradise. There was no other word for it. Dead ahead, at the end of the wide paved drive, was a four-car garage with a rooftop patio protected by ornate rails, and with tall glittering fabric “sails” to provide shade. The house that rose above the garage was like a small red stone palace. It had a circular painted third story and even an observatory atop that. He noticed that the driveway continued past the garage, curving up a small hill and circling a huge fountain where a trio of topless mermaids poured water from their cupped hands into a pool. Beyond the fountain was the front door.

“Ned Nelson told me confidentially that he’s gonna have to unload most of his houses anyway,” Gus said as the gate closed behind them.

A beautiful Latina woman was working in a flower garden. As they passed, Demetrius stared out the tinted window into her dark brown eyes, which flashed blue, and for a split second she became a platinum-haired avenging angel.

He jerked away from the window.

“People won’t vote for a President who seems too wealthy,” Gus went on. “He can probably keep three, maybe four, but more than that would be pushing it.”

“So the staff …?”

“Are paid for the next twelve months,” Sid said. “So are the taxes.”

Gus nodded an agreement. “Ned says by then our stock in his companies should be earning us enough to maintain the place on our own. He threw in the limo, a pimped-out Jeep Wrangler and Jag. A Jag, D-man. And an expense account for incidentals. Wait, I have it here somewhere.” Gus felt around, then finally pulled a small leather ledger from an inner pocket of his designer suit jacket and handed it over.

Demetrius opened it and looked at the dollar amount noted at the top of the first page. Then he lifted his head and blinked. “Those must be some incidentals.”

The limo circled the mermaid fountain and stopped at the front entrance, which was just as spectacular as the rest of the place. Sid got out, came around and opened the car door.

Demetrius stepped out and into his new life. The life he deserved. The one he’d come here for. He savored that knowledge, then turned and walked up the broad flagstone steps, passing between two pillars into a domed entryway to a pair of massive hardwood doors with dragon-head knockers. “This is living,” he said softly.

Gus sent him a knowing look, then returned his gaze to the entrance. “It was no mistake you gettin’ hit by that car, D-dog. No mistake at all. You see that naked blonde again, you oughtta be thankin’ her.”

A throat cleared. They both turned. Sid was standing behind them in his crisp uniform and chauffeur’s cap, with some of his carrot curls peeking out from beneath the hat.

“What is it, Sid?” Demetrius asked.

A small smile tugged at the corners of the younger man’s lips. “I was told to remain at your service. I’ll just park the limo and make use of one of the rooms in the staff quarters behind the garage—with your permission, sirs.”

Demetrius looked at Gus, who shrugged.

“How many bedrooms does this house have, Sid?” Demetrius asked.

“I believe there are twelve, sir.”

“That has to stop. It bothers me. Call me Demetrius, all right? And he’s Gus.”

“All right. Demetrius.” Sid looked as if he was battling a smile.

“I know. It’s a mouthful. So, Sid, you say we have twelve bedrooms. And how many staff members live here?”

“I’d have to find out.”

“Still, I don’t see why you should take a room in the garage.”

“It’s fine, really, sir—Demetrius, sir. The staff quarters are nice.”

“Still—”

“I’ve stayed there before. I really like it.”

“All right, then, if that’s the way you want it.”

“It is, sir.” He looked as if he was about to correct himself, then decided not to. “Will there be anything else?”

Demetrius glanced at the front doors. “No, I guess not.” But for some reason he couldn’t seem to make himself open them.

Sid looked at the two of them for a long moment, then nodded. “Maybe I should give you the grand tour of the place, show you everything you might need to know, introduce you to the staff.”

Demetrius sighed in abject relief, only realizing what he was doing when it was too late to prevent it.

“Yes,” he said. “That would be great, Sid. I am completely out of my element here anyway, and this … this is just a little bit overwhelming, even though …” He turned to look at the sprawling lawns, the gardens, the koi swimming in the fountain, his heart swelling a little in his chest. It was nice here. He would have everything he had ever wanted here. “Even though it was meant for me.”

Sid couldn’t possibly have understood, but he nodded as if he did and, reaching past Demetrius, opened the massive doors.