Sign of the Throne: Book One in the Solas Beir Trilogy (28 page)

Riordan leaned over and whispered in David’s ear. “I think that now is our chance for escape.”

David looked at him and nodded. Riordan moved in front of David, blocking him from view. Quietly, David turned and opened the window behind him. He squeezed through the opening and let himself drop quietly to the lawn.

“You next, Abby,” Jon whispered.

Cassandra slipped Abby the keys to her car. “We’ll hand the children down to you,” she whispered. “If anything happens to Riordan and me …”

“Don’t say that.
Everyone
gets out,” Abby whispered back, tucking the letter opener into her belt loop.

“Okay.” Cassandra looked as though she didn’t believe it, but there was no time to argue.

Abby eased out the window and Jon helped her down, lowering her into David’s waiting arms. She looked back up at him, and Jon nodded at her, trying to hide his growing sense of despair. He might not survive this, but at least Abby would. Then Riordan tapped him on the shoulder, and he moved away from the window to keep watch so Riordan and Cassandra could lower the children down to David and Abby. He could see that Lucia hadn’t noticed anything yet—she was too focused on punishing Calder. And the Shadows were too busy enjoying the show.

After the children, Jon insisted that Cassandra go. He and Riordan slipped out last. The moment they were on the ground, they ran for the Buchans’ SUV. David was already at the wheel
, and Abby and Cassandra had just finished buckling in the children.

As they slid into the vehicle and shut the doors, Jon looked back. “I can’t believe we made it out alive. We got lucky.”

The Shadows weren’t coming for them yet. Through the second-story windows, he could still see the electric blue glow illuminating the room, could still hear the crackle of energy.

“We didn’t get lucky,” Cassandra replied. “Lucia let us go.”

“Why? Why would she do that?” Jon asked in disbelief.

Cassandra nodded toward David. “She didn’t want him to die.”

David drove the Buchans’ SUV past the gate of the ruined mansion, parking it close to the front door. Everyone scrambled out of the car and sloshed through the mud, running for the relative safety of the old building.

There seemed to be an unspoken understanding between all of them that they needed to work together to survive. David thought the fear of being caught outdoors by the Blood Shadows was on everyone’s minds, but no one wanted to be the first to express that fear. He knew it would only be a matter of time before the Shadows arrived and attacked. If he and Abby could restore the portal in time, they might have a chance. He hoped so.

Riordan carried Rowan, the terrified child clinging to him like a baby monkey. Cassandra cradled Siobhan—the little girl’s face was securely buried in the warmth of her mother’s neck—and Jon carried Ciaran, piggyback. David held Abby’s hand, and she led the way through the mansion into its dark, cave-like depths. Eulalia and Nysa were waiting for them in the hall with the shattered mirrors.

“Hello, my son.” Eulalia greeted David formally, as if she were unsure how he would react. “I am so happy you have returned.”

In spite of her appearance, David immediately recognized her, now that he was freed from the Shadows’ influence. He could feel the connection to his true mother from the core of his soul, and wondered how he could have forgotten her.

David took her good hand and withered hand in his strong ones. He looked into her seeing eye, surprised that it was the same as his own two. “Hello, Mother,” he said. He pulled her into an embrace, and Eulalia began to weep.

David looked over at Abby and could see that she too was moved. Tears were welling up in her eyes. He saw her look down as Nysa slipped a tiny hand into hers and tugged on it. The little nixie beamed up at Abby, a sweet smile on her face, her crazy, flaming hair aglow in the darkness of the room. Abby laughed and wiped her face with the back of her hand. Then she scooped up Nysa and spun her around. The water sprite’s giggles were musical, magical. David couldn’t help but smile.

“Do you have the sigil of the Solas Beir?” Eulalia asked, pulling away from David’s arms.

Nodding, he retrieved his half of the Sign of the Throne from his pocket. Abby put Nysa down and unhooked the clasp on her necklace, sliding the pendant off the chain.

“Good. Quickly then.” Eulalia gestured toward the mirror at the end of the hall, and they all hurried over.

Once at the mirror, Eulalia instructed David and Abby to stand face to face. Abby held her half of the silver nautilus cradled in her open palms. David placed his half on top and then covered her hands with his. Basking in the connection and warmth of Abby’s touch, he felt strong and whole, like the fog clouding his mind had truly lifted. He finally understood who he was and who he was meant to be.

The Sign of the Throne grew warm between Abby’s and David’s hands. There was a low thrumming and a brief flash of blue light, and then everything went dark and silent as the halves slid apart.

David studied the sigil, confused. “What happened?” he asked. “Did we do something wrong?” It had seemed like the magic of the sigil was working, but then—nothing.

“No, it is not you and Abby. The connection is weak. The Sign of the Throne has been halved for a long time now, and the portal has been broken even longer
,” Eulalia explained. “It may take some time to rebuild the connection,”

“We don’t have much time, Eulalia,” Abby urged. “Lucia is back. The Shadows will come for us soon.”

Eulalia nodded. “Yes, I know. Just as I knew you were coming. But do not think about the Kruorumbrae right now—clear your minds of them. Try again.”

David and Abby turned back to each other, concentrating hard. This time, there was a brief episode of thrumming
, but no light at all. David was frustrated, and he could tell by the strained look on Abby’s face that she was worried.

Nysa
shared Abby’s concern. The Kruorumbrae scared her too. With her keen senses, she could hear them coming, feel the almost undetectable tremble of the ground that heralded their arrival. There were so many of them. More than ever before, and bigger and stronger in their hunger. Abby needed help.

The nixie
slipped away through the doors that led to the conservatory. She would find Cael. He would know what to do. Transforming mid-leap, she dove into the pool and swam for the drainage pipe that would lead her to the reflecting pool outside. She was faster when she was all fish; tiny, but like a streak of golden-orange lightning. In seconds, she slipped through the portal and jumped out of the sparkling pool in Cai Terenmare, transforming once again to hit the ground running on strong, chubby little legs.

She hurried through the castle of Caislucis to the corridor housing the mirrored portal. Guards were stationed outside the open door, but Nysa was so small and fast, she was all but invisible.

Ahead, Cael was talking with Phelan, his second-in- command, chief of the guard entrusted with the security of the stone fortress in which they stood. Their voices were low, tense. Several soldiers stood in a semicircle in front of the mirror, swords drawn, ready for whoever might come through—hopefully friends, but more likely foes.

Unsuccessfully, Nysa tried to get Cael’s attention. She called his name and pulled on his tall boots, but he and Phelan were focused on the portal, drawing their swords as well. Cael wore a leather satchel at his side, and as she tugged at his pant leg, Nysa caught a glint of something curiously shiny, something that reflected light into her eyes. Something strangely familiar. It called to her.

Unnoticed, she flipped open the top flap of the leather bag, and retrieved the shiny. It was a silver hand mirror, overly big in her undersized hands. It reminded her of something Eulalia had described once in one of her stories. Something that might open a portal. Something that could help Abby. She hoisted it up to balance it against her little chest so she could carry it. It felt heavy in her small arms. Still unnoticed, she slipped away from the guards and hurried back to the shimmering pool of the portal.

Abby sensed David’s growing frustration
, and she thought maybe Eulalia could too.

“Once more, only this time, look into each other’s eyes,” Eulalia said patiently. “Feel the power of the Sign of the Throne drawing you to each other, feel the strength of your connection—focus only on that.”

Abby moved closer to David and searched his eyes. There was a tension in the air between them, and the more she focused on her fear, the harder it was to connect with him. She had to get a handle on her emotions.

“Okay,” David said, staring into Abby’s eyes. “Once more, with feeling.” Then, in what she knew to be an over-the-top attempt to distract her from her fear, he grinned at her
flirtatiously and winked. Considering the situation, it was completely inappropriate.

It worked. “Dork,” Abby laughed. He looked good even when he was being an idiot.

“Yes, ma’am. Ready?” He smiled, looking at her with determination.

David’s confidence was contagious—Abby started to feel sure it would work. “Yes. Let’s do this.”

David placed his hands over hers, and the thrumming began again. The soft, pale blue glow of the sigil’s light escaped through the gaps between their fingers and grew stronger, pouring like silver-blue water onto the floor. Their faces were lit by the building glow; a strong, electric blue light reflected in their eyes, which were locked on one another and nothing else.

Abby could feel the energy swirling around her, pulling her closer to him. She had no doubt David felt it too, a connection that bound them more steadfastly than any spoken vow.

As the light coursed over the floor, the broken shards from the mirror rose in its wake, captured in a tide of blue. The bits of glass were drawn to each other, their edges melting to bond with other fragments, rising to fit neatly in the empty frame.

When the last shard rose and fell into place, a strong flash of light lit the portal, and a shockwave of energy emanated from the mirror to the outer edges of the room, washing over its inhabitants with a feeling of warmth. Above them, rays of moonlight peeked through the glass dome as the storm stopped and the clouds parted, bathing the room in a clean, silver glow.

“Wow,” breathed Abby, her eyes still locked on David’s. She didn’t want to break the spell, to have any distance between them, no matter how small.

“
Wow
sums it up pretty well, I think,” David said, his eyes burning into hers. The silver nautilus was whole now, beating with the combined rhythm of their hearts, in concert with the universe.

A loud banging came from outside the doors of the hall—something was trying to get in. The Kruorumbrae had arrived.

Abby pressed the Sign of the Throne into David’s hands, still not wanting to look away. He pushed the sigil out of sight into the safety of his jacket pocket, and then pulled her into his arms protectively. “We’re going to be okay,” he said.

Eulalia couldn’t help but flinch when the one of the heavy doors at the hall’s entrance splintered and burst, leaving a ragged hole in
the bottom half of the wooden door. As one, the shadow cats spilled through the opening in a tidal wave of black syrup, appearing to consume the rays of moonlight as they came.

“Quickly now, everyone through the portal,” Eulalia cried, ushering them forward. She stretched out her good hand and, releasing blue energy from her fingers, burned a curved line in the wood floor, arching from one side of
the repaired portal to the other, bounding herself, David, and the humans within. “It is not a complete circle,” she explained, “but it will provide some protection.”

The Kruorumbrae were so hungry that they couldn’t stay in one form; they transformed from their usual feline shape to their true state—foul-faced goblins covered in stiff black hair, with mouths full of gnashing teeth, hot breath reeking with the smell of rotted meat—
then back to cats again.

Eulalia felt faint from the force of their desire
. It was a steady, primal buzzing, strikingly similar to the vibration of the buttons in a rattlesnake’s tail. The sensation reverberated throughout her body, more a feeling than a sound, and it was overpowering. It made her ill—she was starting to lose her ability to think clearly.

She looked at Abby, surprised that the girl seemed less overwhelmed by the Kruorumbrae—she was sure that, as a c’aislingae
r, Abby could feel their desire too. Maybe Abby’s focus on David was helping her.

Mesmerized, Cassandra surveyed the writhing mass of black and clutched her daughter to her. There were so many of the creatures now. She had been frightened before, trapped in Riordan’s office, but watching the Shadows roll into the room as one from many, her terror threatened to cripple her sanity. She wrenched her gaze away—she had to think of her family. If she couldn’t pull it together, they would all die. She looked at her husband—Riordan looked exhausted, his arms heavy with Rowan. He needed her.