Gryphons Quest (16 page)

THIRTEEN

Heather pushed open the door to her apartment and dropped the books she was carrying on the floor.

The rain and cold outside did nothing to improve her foul mood. It was impossible to forget all that had happened. For months, every time she walked to her car after work she deliberately dawdled. There was always the hope that Gryph would be there to stop her. At night, she sometimes cried herself to sleep wondering if he was well. Though ten hour workdays and long weekends deciphering Celtic writing kept her mind busy enough, the nights were always the worst. That was when the memories intruded. Her work with the Celtic artifacts brought her the only joy in her life. It brought her closer to Gryph.

Not bothering to turn on the lights, she shook the rainwater from her coat and hung it behind the door.

Half an hour later she emerged from a hot shower, wrapped in a warm robe. She walked into the small living room, lit a pink candle then brewed some herbal tea. On the coffee table lay the small leather crane bag Gryph had given her on that last night. She knelt beside the table, spread out a green, velvet cloth and carefully opened the bag as she had so many times. She lovingly placed each of Gryphon's gifts on the green cloth. There was a sprig of dried mistletoe. The most sacred of all herbs to the Druids, she knew Gryph had included it because that particular plant represented healing and overcoming difficulties.

Its berries had sometimes been used in love charms. Next to this, she placed a sprig of rosemary for remembrance, a small moonstone for wishing, a citrine crystal to eliminate fear, and a perfect quartz wand for communication over distances and for balance. Then, she lovingly held the pink rose-quartz heart. A symbol of love, devotion and happiness. Last, there was a small, flat pebble with the rune symbol of an upright arrow carved into its surface. This was the rune of a warrior. For Heather, it represented Gryphon. His courage, dedication and endurance. In ancient times, Celtic warriors had painted this symbol on their shields and breastplates before going into battle. She'd seen many like it in her studies, but it had become dramatically important to her now. She placed it next to the rose quartz.

She closed her eyes and sent out a whispered prayer. "Please let him be safe. Let him be happy." The flame of the pink candle gently flickered. The little candle was her only addition to the small collection of objects. It was symbolic of love and togetherness. A representation of a hurried and dangerous relationship which had ended too soon. A relationship which had grown and intensified into something rare. In her mind, she could almost see him staring up at the moon, thinking of her. Someday, maybe the memories wouldn't hurt so much. But her world was severely deficient of legends. Heroes who did the right thing because that was all that could be done. She doubted her mind would ever be free of him, or that the pain would ever go away. Everything she touched reminded her of him. She could almost feel his gentle touch, the way he'd held her when they made love. No man had ever been so caring and demanding all at once. He'd made her want to give him her very soul. Sometimes as she slept, it was as if he was there again, moving within her, touching, caressing until she cried out for more. Then, she'd dream he was in full battle gear, charging a hill to rescue his woman from some evil force threatening to separate them forever. He'd free her from her captors and take her away to some primeval forest. There they would lay in the cool darkness and pleasure each other for hours. But the dream would finally end.

Heather would awaken feeling as though she'd been cheated of something very precious. And her body would ache for his touch. In the short time they'd had, something very precious had happened. Two people didn't have that kind of connection unless some larger power had meant for it to be. But, like the Celtic gods of legend, those same powers turned cruel and laughed at their pain. There were impossible barriers placed in their paths.

That was her real excuse for working so hard. Sometimes the frustration she felt was too intense. There was no physical way to assuage it. Heather had tried everything. Work was all that was left. That was her one solace. She could be near things from his part of the world. And she was exceedingly careful that no one could ever trace any of the artifacts back to him or the Order. Heather even altered some of the paperwork before giving it to the police. Her greatest fear was that his world would be discovered.

There wasn't enough tolerance in hers to accommodate such a place.

She slowly opened her eyes and listened to the thunder rumbling overhead. As soon as she was finished with the current collection of artifacts, she had decided to turn in her resignation and move on.

Maybe to California or someplace bright and hot. A place where there could be a new life. Nothing about New York appealed to her anymore. Everything of real importance was gone. She blew out the candle and stood up. Flashes of lightning lit the darkened room.

Something instinctively warned her she wasn't alone. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, and her mouth went dry. Heather carefully turned to face the door. A slender female figure stood there, watching her. The woman was robed in white.

"You studied Druid traditions well, though you've forgotten to acknowledge the elemental spirits and close the ceremony properly. You should be more careful about that. Goddess knows what you'll invite into this room." She waved a hand, and the candle flickered back to life.

"Shayla" Heather gasped. Her heart pounded out a heavy rhythm, and a horrible dread filled her.

"Gryphon. Is he all right?"

"Why are you so concerned?"

"Just tell me," she demanded.

"When I left him, he was in tolerable condition. Though I believe he misses you as much as you seem to miss him."

Heather stared at the older woman, trying to gauge whether there was a hint of a lie or subterfuge in her words. Every instinct she had told her Gryphon needed her as much as she needed him.

"If you're not here to tell me something's wrong, why have you broken into my apartment?"

"I might have approached you somewhere else, but you're always at work or here. So, I decided to speak with you where we can be alone." She paused and walked toward Heather. "And, like all outsiders, you haven't been paying much attention to your surroundings, or you'd have noticed you've been followed."

Heather swallowed hard. "Why? By whom?"

"Some of my people have been keeping an eye on you. I told you what would happen if you ever went to anyone about us."

"I haven't... "

Shayla held up a hand to silence her. "I know. You'd already be dead if you had."

"Then why are you here?"

"Sit down. I have a proposition to put to you."

Heather sat on the sofa while Shayla regally positioned herself in the opposite chair. The older woman untied a white bag from around her waist and carefully placed the contents on the table next to Heather's stones and herbs.

Heather groaned and shook her head when she saw what lay there. "Why did you bring those damned things back here? Gryph almost died getting them to you."

Shayla carefully arranged the rune stones of the Tuatha De Danann so the symbols faced Heather. "I take it you have a passing familiarity with these?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Yeah. I know 'em," Heather snapped back and moved farther away from the stones.

"I intend to put them where no one can ever find them again," Shayla informed her.

"They're not staying in my apartment. And I've got a real good suggestion for just where you can put them," Heather sniped.

"You're rude, girl."

"Well, you've broken into my apartment, which is something I really hate about you people, and you've brought those...those pieces of crap back into my life." She nodded toward the stones. "I never wanted to see those damned things again. Why don't you throw them into the deepest part of the ocean before someone else gets killed?"

"I intend to use them one more time. At least, I intend to watch them being used."

Heather stared at Shayla for a long moment. "Are you out of your friggin' mind?"

"I'm going to excuse your rudeness once more. But only once."

Heather got up, marched to the door and opened it. "Get out. And take those God-awful things with you."

"Sit-down before I lose my patience, and you lose the one chance you have of being with Gryphon."

Shayla quickly stood up.

Heather jumped as the woman raised one hand and the door slammed shut behind her. "You can't be serious," she choked out the words as she walked back toward the Sorceress.

"Think girl. The Order isn't ready to accept outsiders, though we'll someday have to. For now, using these stones may be the only way that an outsider can safely enter our world. To convince those of my kind that some of your kind can be trusted."

"What do you mean?" Heather shook her head in confusion.

"It's a simple matter of a closed society with limited genetic resources. Once there were hundreds of thousands of us. That's no longer the case. Over the centuries, our numbers have decreased as the land needed to sustain us diminished. We currently have physicians all over Europe who've secretly reported back to us on their findings. No one knows these men and women are part of the Order, and we've taken great pains to keep it that way. But their research undeniably concludes that our numbers are too few to sustain a healthy gene pool. Unless, of course, we start taking in new blood from time to time."

Shayla looked pointedly at her.

What she was saying suddenly hit home. Heather would have collapsed to the floor if the sofa hadn't been behind her.

"And...and you want...you want me... "

"Yes. I want you to use the stones as Niall Alexander did. Hopefully, the outcome will be somewhat more acceptable. If everything turns out well, it may no longer be necessary to resort to such magic.

Selected outsiders might be brought in without..."

"Without endangering their lives," Heather interrupted.

Shayla nodded. "Yes. The stones could turn you into something evil that I'd end up having destroyed, or you could die while using them. Those are two possibilities."

"I am not your guinea pig."

"Do you want to be with Gryphon, or not? The choice is yours. And, if you'll recall, a possibility does exist." She walked to where Heather was sitting and looked down at her. "If your heart is good, you'll end up as a creature reflecting the true nature of your soul. Since you're the only person who can judge whether you're worthy or not, I leave the choice to you. But we must eventually have new blood in the Order. Whether it's you or someone else makes no difference to me. It would simply be easier on all concerned if we took advantage of this opportunity. You already know about us and have accepted one of our members. We might have to search a very long time to find another outsider trustworthy enough to approach."

Heather looked up into Shayla's face and shook her head. "You are one cold-blooded..."

"Don't. Don't you even think of saying it." Shayla picked up the rune stones, safely returned them to her bag and walked toward the door. "Consider the possibilities, Heather. You could be with Gryphon, or continue on as you have been. I have an entire population to save. Now make your choice. I'll be in the museum park tomorrow at midnight. If you aren't there, I'll assume you want nothing more to do with any of us."

Heather watched the woman walk out the door. It opened and closed without the Sorceress having touched the knob. Her brain went numb, and it was hours before she moved. Dawn had come before she finally stood up and tried to gather her wits. First, she paced. Then she put on some jogging clothes and ran until she couldn't take another stride. It made no sense trying to eat or rest. How could a person remotely consider such mundane tasks when faced with a chance of gaining everything or dying?

It finally came down to a series of questions, the main one being did she love Gryphon enough?

Heather closed her eyes, and she could see his handsome face. He'd smiled so seldom. There was a sadness about the man that made her want to hold him close, though he'd hate such contact if it only came out of pity. He was too proud for that. He'd love the same way he did everything else, with determination, nobility and passion. That's the man she'd come to know, the one she had come to love.

Heather sat in front of her apartment building and watched people walk up and down the street. Some were parents with small children. Some were couples holding hands and others talked on portable phones, making deals and carrying on businesses. An infinite number of cab drivers, pedestrians and couriers dodged each other in a continual melee. All were totally oblivious to the magic that existed on Earth. How sad it was. They were all so consumed with their own problems and fears that life was passing some of them by. She could see it in the harsh expressions on some of their faces. Could she rise above her own fears and give up the reality she knew for the chance of a lifetime? And what would await her in that other world if she did?

The questions came, but they always circled back to one conclusion. It was the hardest decision she'd ever made in her life. Having made it, Heather went back into her apartment and for the last time closed out the world she knew.

***

Shayla waited in the cold darkness. Her white robes had been exchanged for brown to better conceal her presence in the dark. Over them she wore a hooded cape to break the biting wind. She pushed back the hood when a slender figure wearing blue jeans and a leather jacket approached. "I was wondering if you had the courage."

"So was I. But I thought about it all night and all day. I guess I love him too much." Heather stood up straight, fought back the fear and held out her hands for the stones. "I assume you've had these translated so that I won't have to?"

The Sorceress nodded. Seeing an outsider showing such bravery was beyond her experience. She pulled the stones from her bag, handed them to Heather and backed away. "Last chance, girl."