Gift of the Realm (13 page)

Sorrow
filled her heart as he dipped his head and his mouth claimed hers. The rush of
life she’d come to associate with his touch flooded her, and she let herself be
drawn into his arms. If she were to be denied his heart, and her destiny, she’d
take what she could of him now and rejoice in it.

Hours
later, sated and surrounded by his warmth, she slipped into sleep, knowing
she’d soon face the same pain of loss responsible for souring Fiona’s soul, and
setting them all on this tragic course.

****

“You’ve
traveled beyond the mound to join the fairies in their realm, Keely.”

The
echo of Kathleen’s claim dragged Keely from a dreamless sleep. Her eyelids
fluttered open to stare sightlessly at the moonlit ceiling of her bedroom.

Some
time during the night, as they’d shared quiet conversation between bouts of
lovemaking, the realization had come to her. She’d traveled beyond the mound.
She had the ability to enter the realm on her own!

Colin
hadn’t been interested when she’d mentioned her idea of using the ability to
get to Saraid. At the time, he’d been doing his best to make her forget about
everything but him. She had to admit he’d done a fine job of it, too. She
hadn’t given it another thought. Until now.

She’d
been to the realm many times albeit in her dreams, it was true. But she’d been
to the very place where Saraid was confined. If she could find a way to travel
there in truth, could she free Saraid and, in doing so, break the curse? Or
would she simply be putting herself in the same position as Saraid? After all,
Fiona had no qualm confining a human woman in her convoluted attempt to
protect
her from the deceit of men.

Keely
wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she didn’t at least try.

Rolling
her head on the pillow, she cataloged the details of Colin’s face next to hers.
Sleep diminished the charm he wielded so effortlessly when he was awake, hiding
the dimpled smile, he used so effectively to disguise his true nature. But the
strength and determination of his personality were still evident in the sharp
bones of his beloved profile. He was a man who charted his own course, and
though he obviously regretted the wounding his denial of their shared destiny
caused her, she knew Fiona was right. Colin wouldn’t be swayed, not by human
plea nor fairie enchantment. Going into the realm on her own was her only
choice.

As
quietly as she could, she slipped from beneath the sheet, and scooped up the
t-shirt and jeans he’d stripped from her body hours earlier.

She
stood for a moment, her mind replaying those passion-filled hours. In a last
ditch attempt to reach his heart, she’d poured all she was into their
lovemaking and, though in the end it hadn’t made any difference, it hadn’t been
a complete waste of time. The pleasure, oh the pleasure. Colin’s ardent
response may not have been anything more than his natural male reaction to a
willing female body, but he’d given her a night full of amazing memories,
memories she would take out later to relive in the long years ahead.

As
Saraid was to Owein, Colin was her soul. He couldn’t or wouldn’t accept her
love, so she’d find a way to live without a soul, and exist on what was left of
her.

Before
she gave in to the urge to crawl back into bed and store up just one more
memory of his touch, she tiptoed from the room. The click of Donovan’s nails on
the hardwood sounded like a ticking time bomb, and she cringed, waiting for
Colin to explode from sleep. To her relief, he slept on as she and her dog made
good their escape.

The
night air was cool, and she was grateful for the moon illuminating the twisting
path to the Door. She could have zapped to the ring and saved herself the
treacherous climb, but popping out on Donovan would have had him setting up a
whine, and possibly waking Colin. She knew he would object to what she had in
mind.

The
pillars appeared as ethereal sentries in the moonlight, guarding the secrets of
the mound. No sound reached her ears as she entered the ring. Even Donovan
remained silent, waiting just beyond the stones with uncharacteristic patience
as she stepped to the center.

“Owein,”
she called out. “I know you can hear me. I need your help.”

He
appeared immediately, several feet away. His gaze scanned the ring.

“Colin’s
not here,” Keely said. “I’ve come alone.”

“To
what purpose?”

“To
free your Saraid.”

“And
how would you be doing that, lass, without himself to join with you?”

“By
entering the realm. I’ll find your wife and bring her to the surface.”

He
shook his head. “It can’t be done. Fiona’s curse includes an enchanted
bacainn.
The block denies all entrance to the mound. If not, I would have pulled Saraid
from Fiona’s clutches centuries ago.”

“Not
all are blocked. I’ve entered the mound many times.”

“When
was this?” Excitement brightened his green eyes and the air around him
shimmered with movement. “How?”

“In
my dreams,” she told him. “And if I could enter then, it makes sense I can
now.”

Owein
nodded, but his brows jumped together in indecision. “Let me think this
through, lass. It’s not like Fiona to leave a gaping hole in a curse she
planned so well.” He scraped a hand over his cleanly shaved jaw. “It could well
be a trap.”

“It
could, but you heard her yourself. She means me no harm. She believes she is
protecting me.”

“Aye,
but her idea of protection is to lock a person away. I’ve no desire to see you
share Saraid’s fate of these last three hundred years.”

Keely
shuddered. “Neither do I, but I don’t think it will come to that.”

“And
if it does?”

“Then
I’ll deal with it. The realm has always been a fascinating and joyful place
whenever I visited there. Living amongst the fairies can’t be any worse than
suffering under the confusion of the dreams the rest of my life.”

Owein
sighed, and the air swirled within the ring. “No, lass. As much as I long to be
with my Saraid again, I can’t let you do this. We’ll find another way.”

“Excuse
me, King Owein, but I’m not
asking
you to let me do this. I’m telling
you I
am
doing it.” She didn’t blink or back down at his narrowed-eyed
glare, though she wanted to. This was her chance to end the curse
and
the dreams, and she wasn’t going to let anyone stop her—not even an incredibly
intimidating fairie ancestor. “If you stop me now,” she promised, “I’ll just
try again later.”

“Stubborn,”
he snorted, then changed tactics. “Colin will be lost to you,” he argued.

Keely
shrugged and swallowed against the lump in her throat. “He was never mine to
lose. Not really.”

“That’s
debatable,” Owein grumbled on an angry frown, “but just the same, he won’t like
it.”

“Like
the rest of us, he wants the curse broken. If this works, we’ll all be free of
Fiona’s interference.”

Owein
was quiet for a moment, studying her face. He must have read her determination
to follow through with her plan there, because he suddenly dropped to one knee
at her feet. He reached for her hands to hold them in his. Reluctant acceptance
brightened his eyes.

“My
head tells me to find some other way. I’m uncomfortable with the idea of you
endangering yourself for my benefit. But I’m a selfish creature. My heart cries
out at the possibility of your succeeding where I have known nothing but
failure. I failed Saraid, lass. I failed my children. I don’t want to fail you
as well.”

Keely’s
eyes swam at the genuine regret and concern in his eyes, and she did her best
to reassure him. “How can you fail me when I go of my own free will?”

After
a moment’s indecision, he nodded his regal head. “Know this, Keely O’Brian. No
matter the outcome of this night, the full force of my power is at your
disposal from this moment on. Whatever you need, whenever you need it, come to
me and I will see it done. And if our worst fears are realized, and Fiona holds
you within her raft, as I have sworn for my Saraid, I will not rest until you
are freed.”

She
nodded and took a cleansing breath. “I need the Irish word for realm.”

“
Ríocht
,”
he said quietly. “Focus your thoughts on Saraid, lass. Let the blood lead you
to her.”

Keely
nodded and closed her eyes. She held out her arms. At the edge of the ring,
Donovan broke into frenzied barking, and a wolf’s keening cry, sounding oddly
like her name, echoed through the darkness. Adrenaline rushed through her as
she whispered, “
Ríocht
.”

Chapter
Fifteen

A
pale pink tongue hung long, slapping at the black wolf’s foamed muzzle as he
raced up the last stretch of trail toward the stones at the top of the rise.
Too
late. Too late. Too late.
The chant marked the thud of his paws on the
hard-packed dirt, and he reached for one last burst of speed.

He
topped the rise, his relief so great he nearly stumbled when he spotted the
woman standing at the center of the ring, with the fairie king on bended knee
before her. She raised her arms and horror bloomed in the wolf’s mind.
Too
late
, the taunt returned. His tortured howl joined the wolfhound’s frenzied
barking as she disappeared.

****

Keely’s
knees wobbled on rubbery legs and she had to lock them to keep from falling. As
she gaped at the luxuriously appointed chamber, she wondered if she’d ever get
used to this zapping business. A handy form of transportation it might be, but
popping from one place to another in the blink of an eye was still a bit
disconcerting—and it was
hell
on the leg muscles.

Jeweled
silks covered a long chaise and matching chairs, as well as the canopied bed in
the corner. The whimsical curves of each pure silver piece shimmered in the
soft glow of light. A tiny woman sat at her mending in one of the chairs. A
braid of thick, raven-black hair fell over one shoulder of her emerald green
gown to pool at her waist. Her curious, cobalt blue gaze met Keely’s across the
distance.

“Saraid?”
Keely whispered.

“Yes.
Is there something Fiona requires of me?” she asked meekly.

She
set aside her mending to stand and Keely was stunned at her youthfulness. Keely
wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but this woman-child appeared to be no more
than a girl really, possibly seventeen or eighteen. It was as if Saraid had
entered the realm as a young bride, and hadn’t aged a day since. Three hundred
years had passed her by as if it hadn’t noticed her presence.

“Fiona
didn’t send me,” Keely replied, and took a step closer. “You called to me,
Saraid. I’m Keely, daughter of daughter. Owein helped send me through the
Door.”

“Owein?”
she gasped. Her eyes went as big as saucers as she dropped back into the chair
on collapsing legs. “At last,” she said on a ragged breath, “he’s found the
key.” She scanned the room as though searching. “But where is your mate?”

Keely
ignored the pang of regret, admitting, “I have no mate. I’ve come alone.”

The
color left Saraid’s face and her gaze jerked to the closed door. “No,” she
whispered tortuously. “No!” Desperate confusion tightened her face when she
turned back. “I don’t understand. Owein must know, to break the curse, the
heart and the soul must stand together. If you are found here alone you will be
trapped as I have been these many years. You must go, daughter of daughter.
Quickly, before she comes.”

“I
mean to, with you at my side. I’ve come to free you. Hurry now, Owein awaits
you in the ring.”

At
the mention of her husband, Saraid’s eyes filled with tears, illuminating their
piercing blue. “Owein,” she keened low, and then seemed to gather herself.
“Tell my husband I await him as well. For however long it takes. But what you
suggest is impossible,” she said desperately. “It can’t be done, child.”

Keely
would have smiled at the label of child coming from one so young looking if the
distress on her lovely face were not so glaring. “Why can’t it be done? I’m
here. You need merely take my hand and we’ll go.”

Saraid
shook her head. “
You
have the power to pass from the realm to the
surface, but not to transport
me
from my prison. Only a full-blooded
fairie has that ability. Fiona has barred Owein and his band from entering the
raft and none here will dare incur her wrath. The combined power of two Halflings,
escorting me from the realm, is my only hope of ever escaping. I’m overwhelmed
you answered my call, but without your mate by your side, you cannot help me.”
Her eyes flicked to the door once more. “Please, go,” she pleaded, “before she
comes. I couldn’t bear to see you imprisoned on my behalf.”

“Imprisoned
is such a harsh word, Saraid.”

What
little color had been there leached from Saraid’s face at the softly spoken
words. Keely turned to find Fiona in the shadows near the cold hearth. The door
remained closed, and yet the fairie princess had joined them, somehow.
Apparently zapping was common in the realm as well.

Fiona
wore a satisfied smile as she eyed Keely. “I hadn’t thought to find you here so
soon, Halfling. The blood in you is indeed as strong as Owein suspected.”

“You
knew I’d come?” Keely asked.

“Let’s
say I’d hoped. A Halfling with your abilities would be wasted in the human
world.”

“I
won’t be staying.”

“Is
that so?” Her fair-haired head tilted regally as she glanced about the room.
“But where is your lovely mate?”

Keely’s
chin came up. “I have no mate.”

“Ah,”
Fiona drew out the condescending sound. “Cast aside already? But no matter. It
was bound to happen eventually.” She moved then, stepping from the shadows to
take one of the chairs. She arranged herself prettily, and sent an arching brow
Saraid’s way. “It’s as I’ve always told you, Saraid. Men use and then discard.
Your lovely ancestor has just learned this for herself, but better she learn
the truth sooner rather than later, wouldn’t you agree?”