Blade Heart

  The dream bearing down on her, she focused on the grey floor. Nothing. Blood rushing in her veins, mouth dehydrated with renewed apprehension, she stared at the emptiness of the cold, flat surface.

  An intense, low rumble growled underneath their feet and a hole appeared in the centre—small, black and hungry. Inches from her, Morgan made a sucking sound with his tongue.

  Her erratic pulse seemed to heighten her senses, and she realised the room was talking to her. Not with words or images but through the growing urgency rippling across her body. And the conveyed intention couldn’t be mistaken. The room—monster, magic conduit or whatever it was—requested something.

  Breath caught in her throat, Cara realised they were lost. It wanted the quartz and she didn’t have it. After their fall off the dragon’s back, they had found themselves in New York dressed in city clothes. Along with their Four Kingdoms outfits and weapons, the piece of rock had stayed on the other side.

  Fear stabbed her. The hole expanded to a gaping pit and she had nothing to feed it. In a flash, she understood everything. Although she had been too scared to recognise it on her previous visit in this damned, hellish room, the quartz had always been the conduit to crossing between worlds. Wizards hadn’t been able to feel the power it contained but they had been wrong. More than that, she alone was its wielder. But why?

  For the moment, the quartz was required to mend the severed thread of both worlds. Caius had been right about her initiating a magical sequence the first time she had been here, and she needed to give it closure—to reconnect the loose ends of the loop. There would be no other opportunity. She either delivered the rock now or the universe would be swallowed up into the ravenous vortex.

  For a second, Cara cursed the long-dead Kylor and his stupid actions. Okay, he hadn’t been aware of the consequences, but why did he have to put her in this terrifying position? After all, he had been able to see Anya and to have her by his side every day.

  Spell or no spell, why couldn’t he have enjoyed gallivanting around the countryside with her? Stick his dick into her anytime he wanted and been content with that? No, of course not. He had to play the all-powerful knight and break the curse. He had to make her present life a misery. Men and their damn egos, they were all the same! Except Morgan.

  Screams of pain erupted in the room. Coming from below, they made Cara flutter with alarm and Morgan turned to her. She panicked as he looked at her intently but with a confidence she didn’t feel. God, but it couldn’t end like this.

  In desperation, she plunged her hands into the pockets of her jacket. Fervent energy cranked up the beats of her heart as her fraught fingers stumbled on a hard object. Pulling it out, she almost dropped it in her haste and uttered a harsh noise. This was no time to break apart the only device that might save them.

  Rolling the leather string around her thumb, she observed the shiny piece with wonder. How could such a small stone contain the destiny of so many human lives? Tortured cries wrenching her ears interrupted her divagation.

  In front of her, the hole had nearly devoured the entire floor and they stood on the edge. Holding her hand out, she breathed in and fulfilled the prophecy. The quartz fell into the endless vortex.

  As it plunged down, shouts of suffering dwindled to anguished murmurs and the swirling maelstrom retreated inward. The floor rebuilt itself around the edges.

  Morgan reached out to her. He remembered the nightmare and the way back to the Four Kingdoms. He knew they had to jump into the depths of hell before the hole ceased to exist. Looking at his offered palm, Cara faltered.

  Her job was done. Her destiny was complete. She had saved both worlds. If she chose to, she could stay here. Home. Without Morgan. But as much as the temptation to follow him burned her guts, it might turn out to be the wrong decision. Although she had been sent to his world for a reason, she didn’t belong there. So what should she do?

  The vortex diminished. As it had withdrawn to half the size of its former state, the floor had gained more ground. Hand open, Morgan took in her wavering expression but didn’t comment. The choice was hers. Fingers itching to grab him, Cara reined in her impulse as she glanced over her shoulder.

  The handle was still there. All she had to do was press it down, push the door, step outside and resume the existence of a lonely city girl—but a girl who, at some point, had basked in the love of a real man.

  What if she had a family and friends waiting for her? Maybe a husband worried sick about her and praying for her safety? Even if she couldn’t recall any of them, did she have the right to inflict so much hurt on people who cared for her? Then again, what if her relatives were dead and she was left alone? There was no ending to the dilemma, no solution except her free will. But what in God’s name should she do?

  The vortex reduced to the size of a big door—her time was up. In a matter of seconds, neither of them would be able to fit inside. She needed to make a decision now. Behind her, she could sense the handle of the metallic door. Strong and steady in front of her, Morgan’s hand hadn’t moved an inch. She raised her head. Tears in her eyes, she looked at him.

  He smiled. “I love you, Cara.”

  Chapter Thirty

  New York boomed and buzzed. Home of the Empire State Building, the Statue of Liberty, Brooklyn Bridge, the Chrysler Building and Park Avenue, the city had been thriving for a long time. As Cara stretched the more useful muscles in her body, she wondered if the bright town would keep on prospering.

  Tight but supple around her legs, Heather’s outfit didn’t even crinkle when she bent her knees to stand up. Around her waist, the weapon belt hung with the light weight of the daggers. A barrier to the winter winds, the long leather cloak followed her movements. Instinct guiding her, she checked the large pockets. No quartz. Faded away. Gone.

  She had seized his hand. He had laced their fingers together as they had leapt into the decreasing hole. If she had folks back in the United States, they’d never see her again. Yet she didn’t regret her decision. Life without Morgan would have been unbearable—a grain of sand dying in a bottomless ocean.

  Cara observed the unfamiliar surroundings. She stood on the shore of a vast lake, dark waters glinting blue under the dawning rays of the sun. Close behind her, a large path drew a breach between the lake and an endless plain. Although most of the landscape was still awakening to a new day, she could see well enough.

  Morgan was nowhere in sight. At her feet, the place she had lain bore traces of her passage, but all around the ground appeared devoid of any other presence. No marks but hers.

  Had they been separated while crossing worlds? When the quartz had transported them to New York they had woken up together in Central Park, so why would it be different this time? Oh, God, what if he had gone to the place where the tortured screams originated?

  “Morgan!”

  She wouldn’t think about that. Despite the worried lump cramping her throat, she pushed the terrifying thought away and concentrated on the present situation. He couldn’t have landed very far away, and she’d just have to find him. Although the lake and plain appeared deserted, she called out his name a second time.

  “Morgan!”

  A cold breeze ruffled the blue waters. Bringing together the lapels of her cloak, Cara shivered with the certainty she was utterly alone and that staying here would prove fruitless. She needed to move and maybe look for Caius’ house—or any place that might stir a sense of familiarity.

  With a last look around, she advanced towards the pathway. Chilled to the bone, she turned east to feel the warmth of the rising sun on her face. She had no idea where to go anyway, and east seemed as good a direction as any.

  Opting for a brisk pace, Cara didn’t walk longer than an hour before she reached the outskirts of a small village. She left the path, skirting past the small settlement to see if Morgan might be around.

  She didn’t perceive any movement but caught sight of a well by the side of the nearest house. Thirst drove her to i
t. As she pulled on the rope to elevate a bucketful of water, a voice caused her to gasp.

  “Why are you here?”

  Holding on to the rope, she looked back. Dressed like a farmer, carrying a brown bag over his shoulder, a middle-aged man regarded her with curiosity. Taken aback, she took a while before answering his question.

  “I was thirsty. I’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have used your well.”

  “It’s not mine, it belongs to all of us in the village. Drink as much as you want, you look like you need it.”

  “Thank you.”

  No smile lit his weathered face, but he didn’t appear unfriendly either. Taking her chances, she put the bucket on the edge of the well and dipped her hands inside to drink long, refreshing gulps of water.

  “You shouldn’t walk the countryside by yourself. These are very dangerous times, little lady.”

  Wiping her mouth with her sleeve, Cara brushed back the lock of hair that had fallen over her eye to take a good look at him.

  “I got lost. Could you tell me where I am?”

  “This place is called Stearns. Our village lies north-west of the Valley of the Slain Dragons, but that’s a fair walk.”

  Given that neither name rang a bell, she didn’t care much about the distance. Besides, she had no intention of visiting a dragon cemetery. She gestured towards the direction the path continued its course.

  “What about this way? Where does it lead?”

  The man raised an eyebrow before rubbing it with soiled fingers. Even his tone of voice indicated genuine surprise.

  “By the Mighty Gods, you must be really lost if you don’t know that much. ’Tis the path to the city of Agravar.”

  The well-known name brought back the chill that had left her. Choosing to head east might not have been her best bet after all. Whatever, she could always retrace her route to the lake and try the opposite direction.

  “I’ve also been separated from my companion and I’m looking for him. Have you seen anyone this morning?”

  “Can’t say that I have. Although…” He scratched the top of his head as a glint crossed his eyes. “I think I saw a man up in the woods a while ago.”

  Hope surging through her, she took an abrupt step towards the farmer. “What did he look like?”

  “I don’t know, ma’am, he was too far away. But he wore something like that.”

  When he pointed at her long cloak Cara’s heart jittered. It had to have been Morgan scouting the woods to find her.

  “Which way did he go?”

  The man indicated the same track with his head. “Agravar. But you shouldn’t go there, the roads aren’t safe.”

  “I know. Thanks a lot for your help.”

  With a smile, she turned away from the villager to get a last drink and replace the bucket in the well. But when she was done and ready to begin her journey to the last place she wanted to go, the man hadn’t moved an inch. An intrigued expression wrinkled his features as he studied her outfit, cloak and weapon belt.

  “Are you with the resistance?”

  “Why are you asking?”

  “Do you know the leader?”

  The man had been friendly to her, but that didn’t mean he could be trusted. After all, he lived in Agravar. Although he looked very much like a simple villager she didn’t know him from Adam and felt more than reluctant to give away the meagre information she possessed. Besides, all she looked forward to now was catching up with Morgan.

  “Thanks again, sir, I have to go now.”

  “Wait!”

  His pleading cry stopped her short. She cast him a glance as he put down the large brown bag he had been carrying. Although his manners weren’t in the least threatening, she told herself to stay on alert. Sometimes the worst perils shrouded themselves in innocence. Yet as soon as the farmer started telling his story, she felt rooted to the ground.

  “The resistance delivered our lands last spring. Up here winter had been harsher than usual and the king’s soldiers came to steal the last of our livestock. They set houses on fire, including mine. I was just coming back from the river when I realised what was going on. Then fighters arrived from nowhere and drove them all away. There was a man, tall and dressed like you, who rushed into my house and rescued my wife from burning alive. I wanted to thank him, but he was gone before I had the chance.”

  Eyes brimming, the farmer seemed gripped in the throes of a painful and vivid recollection. He inhaled sharply and resumed his tale.

  “His companions called him Dead and he risked his life to save my Belinda. So, you see, if by any chance you know this man I’d ask you to thank him for me. I’ll never forget what he did for us little people, what they all did. Although our lands belong to the kingdom of Agravar, our gratitude and loyalties will always lie with the resistance.”

  Bursting out with pride and love, her heart pressed against her ribcage. Afraid to let her emotion show, Cara pulled her trembling hands into the depths of her pockets as she nodded.

  “I’ll pass your message along.”

  The man beamed. An appreciative air lighting his face, he shoved the bag over his shoulder and extended his free hand to her. She shook it.

  “Be careful on those roads, ma’am. The king’s soldiers are everywhere and more often than not, you don’t see them coming until it’s too late.”

  “Thanks, I’ll pay attention.”

  He watched her go. Glancing back once she had walked up the slope overlooking the settlement, she saw his motionless silhouette facing the direction she had taken. Wishing the peaceful farmer, his family and his village would never be attacked again, Cara turned away from him and hurried onward.

  Aware she wouldn’t be able to catch up with Morgan if he believed she had landed closer to Agravar, she’d try finding him just the same. He might still be around searching for her, and in the worst-case scenario, she’d go after him to the heart of the kingdom.

  Pretty soon the path widened. Temperatures shifted from crisp to pleasant as she followed a straight line east. Flat grounds gave way to low hills in the south while groves obstructed her view on the northern side.

  She hadn’t covered much ground yet, and still hadn’t seen anyone. The sole distraction came from slight changes in the scenery. It felt like the world had become abandoned, like people were holed up instead of living.

  A while later, Cara sat on a flat rock to catch her breath. As much as she wished to find Morgan, trotting after him demanded a lot of stamina. The sun had moved up, but not enough to reach its zenith. A mild breeze stroked her cheeks and hair as she raised her face towards the golden ball.

  A barely audible crunch on undergrowth alerted her, but before she could get to her feet something rough grabbed her throat from behind. Eyes popping open, she gasped as her hands flew to her neck.

  She met coarse fingers and lashed at them. In spite of her nails raking skin and drawing blood the grip strengthened. Too engrossed in her own thoughts, she hadn’t paid enough attention, had she? Choking from the ever-squeezing pressure, she dug her nails deeper into the hard flesh and he howled. Coming from farther back, a masculine voice called out to unseen people.

  “Hey, come over here. Murdoch’s found a wild cat.”

  She heard footsteps running towards her. Her field of vision narrowing from lack of oxygen, Cara nevertheless glimpsed several men as they paused in front of her. All were wearing dark uniforms.

  “Don’t kill her. I’ve better things in mind than fucking a corpse.”

  “Like screwing her alive?”

  “Sounds better to me.”

  Well, she knew her fate regarding the next hour. Yet she wouldn’t give in to the pernicious fear sneaking up her bones. How many were there? If the smelly fingers locked around her throat would please let go, she might be able to hurt one or two of them.

  Just as the plan came to her, she felt a slackening in the man’s grip. Making use of the opportunity she released his fingers and loosened her whole body.


  “Easy, Murdoch. She’s passing out.”

  He released her neck. While she bent forward in a natural fainting move, she curled her fingers around the hilts of the daggers. She couldn’t do anything about the man behind her, but the two in front were another story. Intent on inflicting pain and death, Cara sprang to her feet and planted a dagger in each of them.

  Stabbed in the heart, the soldier on the right hit the ground. Struck in the shoulder, the other one yelled in pain and clutched at the blade with clumsy fingers. A blow at the back of her head stunned her. She fell to her knees while the bloodied soldier wrenched the dagger out of his shoulder and shouted.

  “The bitch stabbed me. Get her!”

  They pounced. Rough hands tugged at her hair, jabbed her ribs, yanked her hard enough to propel her up. Legs wobbling, gaze defying them, Cara breathed in short rasps while assessing the situation. One dead, one injured, two restraining her arms, and a fifth presently glaring at her.

  “Do you really think you can take all of us?”

  Of course not, but she wouldn’t die without fighting—Morgan had taught her that. She struggled to free herself of the soldiers’ steely grasp.

  “Let go of me, you piece of shit!”

  “Can we have her now, chief?”

  Still glaring, the leader of the band nodded. Cara uttered her cry as they threw her down and the biggest thug pinned her to the ground. Straddling her thighs while his friend held her arms, he went straight for her pants. This was it! She had mended the fabric of time and existence to end up raped and killed on a dusty path in a world that wasn’t even hers.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  While her desperate plight worked its way into her brain, she used all her strength in an attempt to wriggle free from beneath the man holding her down. She spat in his face as he scoffed at her vigorous but futile efforts. Pain flared up her cheek when his bitter blow hit her. Arm raised, he was about to strike her again, but the chief’s voice rang above them.