Daughter Of The Dragon Princess(16)

"Detective Cole?"

"Lily," he replied. "Where the hell are you?"

She ignored his question. "I just wanted to know if Mal was okay."

Cole was silent, and Lily's heart started to pound.

"Yeah, he's okay," Cole said after a moment. "He's sitting right next to me, and he's not happy."

Lily was sure that was a huge understatement. Suddenly, she grinned. Mal  was okay. Despite the fact that she'd pushed it to the back of her  mind, the worry had been there, nagging away at her as she drove. Though  why she should worry about somebody who was quite happy to hand her  over to a "fate worse than death" she didn't understand.

Okay, maybe she understood a little. He'd kissed her back at the  farmhouse. Kissed her like he cared, like no one had ever kissed her  before. For a brief moment, in his arms, she'd felt like she belonged.

Then everything had gone to shit.

"Lily? Are you still there?"

"Yes. Did you ask him about dragons?"

"Yeah, he said you were under a lot of strain. So are you going to tell me where you are?"

"No."

"Lily?" It was Mal, and warmth ran over her skin. "Just tell us where you are right now, and we'll come and get you."

"I don't think so."

"I know you're heading to the stones, Lily. Don't go near them. They're dangerous."

She didn't answer.

"Lily, where are you?" When she still didn't answer, he sighed. "Just don't go near them. We'll be there in a couple of hours."

She put the phone down without saying anything further. What could she  say? Anyway, she wasn't too worried. After all, she had no intention of  going anywhere near the stones. And talking about them couldn't  hurt-she'd just get what information she could, and get out of there.



Joe waited outside the pub chatting with the landlady. He glanced across  and grinned as Lily pulled up. After switching off the engine, she  climbed out and walked toward them.

"Hi," she murmured. She held out her hand, but Joe pulled her to him and gave her a hug.

"Lily," he said. "I thought we wouldn't see you again."

"Hoped you wouldn't, you mean. Don't worry," she said. "If we're lucky, you won't have to carry me anywhere today."

"I don't mind."

She smiled. "So, did you manage to arrange it?"         

     



 

"Yes. He's expecting us sometime this morning."

They went to the meeting in her car, or rather Mal's. She didn't want to  leave it outside the pub, where Mal and his detective pal would spot it  the moment they arrived in the village.

Joe gave her directions, and they drove through twisting back roads,  only wide enough for one vehicle, overhung by huge old trees. Luckily,  they met nothing coming the other way, and after thirty minutes, they  arrived at a set of metal gates. They stood open, and Lily drove  through, and then pulled up in front of a beautiful old manor house. It  wasn't what she'd expected. Neither was the man who came out to meet  them.

He was of medium height, slender, around fifty, with blue-grey eyes that  gleamed with suppressed excitement. There was something familiar about  him. Lily frowned but couldn't place it.

He proffered a hand to her as she got out the car. His palm felt cool in  hers, or rather, hers felt hot, and she snatched it back. He didn't  appear offended, if anything, his smile widened.

Joe came around the car to stand beside her. "Professor, this is Lily Palmer. I spoke to you about her."

"Please," he said, "call me Weyland. And I shall call you Lily, if I may."

"Of course. Did Joe tell you what I wanted?"

"Yes. I must admit I was a little surprised until Joe told me of your  background. Then I was fascinated. Why don't you come into the house and  we can talk?"

He led them through the front door, along a dark hallway and into a  large study lined with books. Pictures covered the walls, and Lily's  eyes widened. Dragons. They were everywhere. Her hand moved to touch her  right shoulder. The professor caught the movement and smiled.

"Do you like dragons?" he asked.

She shrugged, and glanced at Joe. For some reason she didn't want him  mentioning the mark. She certainly didn't want to show it to this man.  "I haven't thought much about them."

"I find that a little hard to believe. Now, come and sit down."

Lily didn't want to sit down. Her skin prickled with unease, and she  wasn't sure why. The man was a professor in mythology. Why shouldn't he  have pictures of mythical creatures on his walls? She sank into the  chair indicated while Joe strolled around the room, studying the  pictures.

Weyland took the seat opposite. "So, tell me what it is you want to know."

"Anything about the standing stones."

"I've been studying the stones for nearly thirty years. It would take me  forever to tell you everything I know. No, you must be more specific."

"Do you know how old they are?"

"Not exactly, but in the range of 10,000 years, give or take a few."

"What were they built for?"

He shrugged. "Some say they were temples to the old gods, some say they were built by the gods themselves."

"But what for?"

"Do you believe in the gods, Lily?"

"No."

"You say that with such conviction. How about in the one god of the Christians?"

"No." She didn't believe in any gods.

"May I ask why?"

"I can't look at the world, see the way it is and believe that there is some powerful force for good that controls everything."

"And why would you think that a god should be a force for good? Never  mind, back to the stones. My own particular belief is that they were in  fact built by some higher beings-call them gods or whatever you like-as  gateways between worlds."

"What sort of worlds?"

"Who knows? Strange worlds where anything is possible, and where a man  could obtain his hearts desires. If he was willing to pay the price."

Joe had come to stand next to her chair, hands in his pockets. "I believe in other worlds."

Lily glanced up at him in surprise. "You do?"

"Yes." Joe smiled at her expression of disbelief. "My family has farmed  close to the stones for as long as we can remember, and probably for  much longer than that. There are stories tied to the stones, strange  stories of strange people. It's why the villagers stay away. And after  all, I did find my own fairy child, didn't I?

"I'm no fairy."

"No you're not." Weyland agreed. "Do you know what you are, Lily Palmer?"

She glanced at him sharply. Her feelings of unease were crystallizing  into something much more tangible, along with a growing conviction that  they had to get out of there. Fast.

"Do you?" she asked, her mind searching for a way out.

He smiled. His eyes wandered over her body to linger on her right arm.  "I have my suspicions," he murmured. "I don't suppose you would like to  show me the mark and confirm them."         

     



 

Lily frowned. "How do you know about the mark?"

"Why, Joe told me, of course."

She glanced up at Joe.

He shrugged. "I told him about finding you as a baby, when I called this  morning to arrange the meeting. It was strange, he specifically asked,  did you have any marks."

"So, I take it that's a no to my request?" Weyland said. "Never mind, there will be opportunities later."

"I don't think so." She looked at Joe, trying to put her feelings into  her eyes but he appeared impervious to the atmosphere. Was she imagining  it? "I think we should leave."

"Come now, you've only just arrived and we were talking of other worlds.  Have you heard the name of Ankesh? Ah, I see from your expression that  you have."

"I haven't," Joe said. "What's Ankesh?"

"Lily?" Weyland prompted.

"I don't know. I just heard the name from a friend."

"A friend?" Weyland asked, with a smile. "Not many people would refer to the King's Enforcer as a friend."

"The King's Enforcer?"

"Malachite Smith. I believe you've been with him for the last twenty-four hours, have you not?"

Lily swallowed, her stomach churning. "Who are you?"

"Someone who has waited a long time for you to show up. All my life, in fact. So did Malachite tell you anything? Who you are?"

"He said I was the daughter of the Dragon Princess."

"You're more than that. You are the last of the Dragon Princesses. Their  one hope of returning to Ankesh. Do you know what saved your life all  those years ago?"

"No."

"The mark. Vortigen would have slain you in a moment were it not for the  mark. Or rather, he would have ordered his Enforcer to do it. If the  King had demanded your death, do you think that Malachite's sword would  have hesitated? Now he plans to give you to that same king. Does it feel  good to know you are destined to be the mate of a king? Even if he is a  depraved, arrogant monster."