Beyond the Highland Myst(553)

As if from a far distance, she heard Dageus's voice—but not quite his voice, it was more like dozens of voices layered upon each other—telling her to dose her eyes, telling her that she would see and hear nothing till he commanded otherwise. And she knew that he'd done something to her, used some magic on her, because suddenly she was blind and deaf. Panicked by the loss of her senses, she dropped to the floor and held very still.

That time of sightless silence seemed to go on for an eternity. The only sensation left to her was feeling the chilling caress of that bitter, dark wind.

She huddled on the floor, refusing to contemplate what might be going on. Refusing to believe what she thought she'd seen before all hell had broken loose. She knew Dageus; he would never do such a thing. Not even for her. He was too honorable at the core. He would never choose her life over the fate of the world.

Then why had it looked like he was becoming the Draghar?





* * *





Chapter 26




Silence was all Chloe heard when she could hear again, though it wasn't exactly silence, for, in contrast to the utter vacuum of deafness, silence was a mishmash of white noise: the faint hum of fluorescent lighting, the soft push of air from dehumidifiers installed to protect the ancient texts. She'd never been so grateful for such simple, comforting sounds in her life. It had been terrifying to be stripped of the ability to both see and hear.

But she still couldn't see, and she suffered another moment of absolute panic before realizing that her eyes were dosed. Opening them, she pushed herself shakily up from the floor into a sitting position. Her gaze flew to the stone column, but Dageus was no longer chained to it. Frantically, she skimmed the room.

Once, twice, three times she looked through the wreckage.

And jerked her head in abject denial.

There was blood all over the place. Puddles of it. Still more sprayed across the tables and chairs, and the chaos of books and papers on the floor.

Yet more blood on the stone column.

And there wasn't a single other person—not even a body—in the room with her.





* * *





Time is a companion that goes with us

on a journey. It reminds us to cherish each moment,

because it will never come again.

What we leave behind is not as important as

how we have lived.

—JEAN LUC PICARD, captain of the Enterprise





* * *





Chapter 27




"I don't want you to go," Gwen said for what Chloe was certain must be the hundredth time. "Please, stay with us, Chloe."

Chloe shook her head wearily. Over the past two weeks, she and Gwen had grown dose, which both soothed and chafed, for it made Chloe think about how incredible her life could have been if things had worked out differently. She had no doubt that she and Dageus would have gotten married, remained in Scotland, and bought a house near Gwen and Drustan. She and Gwen were similar in many ways, and in time Gwen would have become the sister she'd never had.

What a perfect, blissful dream that would have been! Living in the Highlands, surrounded by family, married to the man she loved.

But everything had gone so damn wrong and those things would never be, and her growing affection for the brilliant, nurturing woman who'd stayed tirelessly at her side since that terrible night, had begun to hurt more than it helped.

"I've stayed as long as I can, Gwen," Chloe said, continuing her grimly determined march toward the security gate. They were in the airport, and she was desperate to be in the air, to escape so many painful reminders. If she didn't get out of there soon, she was afraid she might start screaming and just never stop. She couldn't look at Drustan one more time. Couldn't bear being in the castle Dageus had built.

Couldn't bear being in Scotland without him even one more second.

It had been two weeks since the horrible night that she'd been awakened by the sound of a car door slamming. Two weeks since she'd run outside after him, only to be taken hostage by sect members who'd been waiting for just such an opportunity.

Two weeks since she'd fled, sobbing, from the heart of the catacombs, and stumbled out of The Belthew Building to call Gwen and Drustan from a pay phone.

Two weeks since they'd joined her in London and searched every inch of the damned building.

At first, when Gwen and Drustan had taken her back to Castle Keltar, she'd been in shock, incapable of talking. She'd huddled in a darkened bedchamber, dimly aware that they were hovering nearby. Eventually, she'd managed to tell them what had happened—the part of it she'd seen—then she'd curled in bed, replaying it over and over in her mind, trying to fathom what had really transpired.

Realizing that they would never know for sure.

All they knew for certain was that Dageus was gone.

For two weeks, Chloe lived in a kind of excruciating suspension, a bundle of tension and grief… and treacherous hope. It wasn't as if she'd actually seen his dead body. So, maybe…