Fascinated Page 19

  “Yes, yes, as you please,” said Morris.

  Gavin just grunted and waved his glass, and as Edward was leaving the room, he saw the man reaching once more for the decanter.

  Edward closed the study door behind himself. No matter how sick he felt at his recent discovery, he needed to set his anger aside. He needed to be able to see the larger picture clearly. What was that massive knot for? How did it relate to the damage inflicted on the Hartwells? With infinite care, Carstairs opened his mind again. Now that he knew the knot was there, he could sense it easily. He turned his vision entirely inward, and cautiously moved forward, letting his inner senses lead him toward the place the knot was centered. He tried to be alert for traps or wardings. But nothing in the entire place seemed to hold any magic except that huge shining knot.

  Edward blundered against a window, and a door. His fingers and face turned again and again toward the sun. If any of the numerous Hartwells noticed his clumsy progress down their hall and into the sitting room, they said nothing. His hand found the latch on the French door and pushed it open. The scents of flowers and greenery touched him.

  The garden. The knot was in the garden. Knowing that much, Edward was able to relax his mind and use his outer senses again. He’d walked among these ruthlessly trimmed and regulated beds briefly with Verity, and sensed nothing. But for a magical construct, the knot was not only huge; it was unusually tight and concentrated. It would be difficult for such a thing to stand alone. It needed something in the real world to give it form. Edward turned away from the flower beds where he’d walked with Verity, toward the center of the garden.

  There, Carstairs found the pied-à-terre maze. He stared. This was an artifact from a previous era, an ankle-high hedge maze of the sort created for those who had wanted to mimic the glories of Versailles and Kensington House. His gaze roamed the plants. Rosemary. Rue. Yarrow. All the neat borders for the labyrinth’s paths were plants known to be aids and symbols of magic. They strengthened and anchored the knot, even as the complex paths helped it hold its shape. Oh, this labyrinth was a beautiful and terrible thing, and it had been very carefully planned.

  Footsteps rustled the grass behind him. Carstairs ducked around the nearest grouping of topiary and flattened himself on the grass.

  “What are we doing out here?”

  Alicia. Carstairs lifted his head just high enough to see between the hedge stems. Hester Hartwell led Alicia and Verity around the corner of the house toward the labyrinth, with Eugenia following directly behind, as if to prevent escape.

  “Really, Aunt Hester.” Verity halted in her tracks. “This is too much! Either tell us what is happening, or I am not going a step farther!” She plopped herself down on a stone bench and folded her arms defiantly.

  But Hester just reached out and pinched Verity’s chin between her fingers. “You will be quiet, girl.”

  Carstairs felt Hester snatch a bit of magic from the waiting Eugenia and toss it like a net over Verity. It was a swift and practiced attack. All expression drained from Verity’s face. Her form went board stiff, and she stared straight in front of her, seeing nothing.

  “What have you done to her?” cried Alicia.

  “Don’t be foolish,” snapped Hester. “You know what I have done.”

  Carstairs felt Alicia struggle against fear. He longed to reach out to her, but he did not dare. Eugenia Hartwell was on high alert. To use his power now would be to betray his presence.

  “You’re a Sorceress,” said Alicia, and Carstairs knew with those words she was seeing the world in an entirely new light.

  “As was your mother.” Hester spoke the last two words like a curse. “As are you.”

  “But why? Why did you bind me like that? Why not just tell me what I am?”

  “Yes, why? Cruel, cruel Aunt Hester to treat her little great-niece so!” The sneering mockery in the old woman’s voice grated in Carstairs’s ears. “And of course you deserve an answer. That’s why I’ve brought you here.”

  “I don’t understand.” In her bewilderment, Alicia looked to Eugenia, but Eugenia just folded her hands and pressed her mouth into a thin line.

  “You will shortly.” Hester nodded toward the labyrinth. “Start walking.”

  “What?”

  “Walk to the center of the labyrinth. You’ll find your answer there. In fact, you’ve flaunted yourself brazenly enough, I expect it’s already waiting for you.”

  “I don’t…”

  “Do as you are told!”

  Carstairs expected her to refuse, but Alicia squared her shoulders in a gesture he was coming to know well, and stepped onto the labyrinth. Edward felt the knot of magic loosen a single strand.

  “Alicia!” He launched himself out into the open. “No!”

  But he was too late. Alicia was gone.

  Nineteen

  “Where is she?” Carstairs swung around to face the two ancient dames. “Where have you sent her?”

  “I sent her nowhere. You must have seen. She started down the path of her own choice.” The small smile of satisfaction on Hester Hartwell’s face was as horrifying as anything Carstairs had seen since he walked into Hartwell House. “If she did not think to ask where it led, that is no fault of mine.”

  Edward felt his mind go cold and clear. This was the enemy, as much as any foe he’d met on the battlefield or any Fae he’d faced in the twilight. More, even, for she threatened Alicia, and his entire being raged at this thought. But discipline held.

  “I will not play any games with you, Hester Hartwell. Tell me where Alicia is.”

  “Or what? I know your kind.” Triumph glittered in her pale brown eyes. “Your own weakness prevents you from threatening me. You may abandon whole families to their fate if you cannot see them, but face-to-face your precious gentleman’s honor will not permit you to harm a woman.”

  “And I know your kind.” Carstairs stalked up to her, putting himself directly between the women and the labyrinth. “You are a tyrant and a bully. You maim children and terrify fools to suit your twisted ends. But I will tear down your house, brick by brick, if I must to help Alicia, and you will not stand in my way.”

  Hester snatched up the power from her sister and lashed out with it, but Edward was ready for her. He opened himself wide, wide enough so that the blade of Hester’s power slid straight through him. The magic Eugenia drew up from the soil and down from the sunlight ran straight back into the waiting earth.

  Hester was strong, but she was untrained and inexperienced. He guessed she’d been taught only what she needed to rule and hide her family. She had no comprehension how much someone raised to full knowledge of their own power could do.

  “Hester.” Eugenia’s voice was strained. Hester ignored her. The blood drained from Eugenia’s cheeks and perspiration sprang out on her forehead. Hester steeled herself, drawing yet more power from her sister. What Hester had thought would be a severe blow was the lightest brush against his spirit. Carstairs could stand here all day if need be. She pressed harder, and Carstairs felt her magic twisting within him, seeking a way to cut into his being. But it was as futile as trying to break an open window. Her blows found only emptiness.

  Eugenia began to tremble with effort. At last, she cried out and crumpled to her knees. The flow of power snapped and Hester staggered backward, staring up at Carstairs. She was afraid of him now, and he smiled grimly to see it.

  “Now, Hester Hartwell.” He filled his voice with soft menace. “Where is Alicia?”

  Hester’s gaze darted sideways. Eugenia was wheezing badly and her face had gone gray. She clutched at her sister, seeking some support, but Hester’s face only hardened into an expression of contempt.

  “She has gone to her White Knight,” snapped Hester, even as she backed away from him. “You may apply to him for her release. If you can.”

  Hester Hartwell hiked up her skirts, and fled, abandoning her sister and her niece as she retreated to the house.

  Carstairs looke
d dispassionately down at Eugenia, as she staggered to her feet. She was a party to this evil. It was she who supplied the power that made the spells possible. Hating himself for doing so, Carstairs forced that understanding aside.

  “Miss Hartwell, you do not have to follow her. I can offer you sanctuary and a wholesome use for your abilities.”

  Eugenia’s hesitation told him she was tempted. But it lasted no more than a handful of heartbeats.

  “It is too late for us,” she whispered. “We have done too much evil. Take Verity. Save Alicia if you can. Hester has no ambition outside the family, you may safely leave her to her own fate.”

  With those words, Eugenia hobbled away after her sister. Carstairs started after her, but stopped. At this moment, she was too weak to provide Hester with power, but that wouldn’t last. If he was to work without interference, he must do it now. Every moment took Alicia closer to the White Knight.

  Carstairs hurried to Verity’s side. The incurious Hartwells would not think to come out and wonder what he was doing in their garden, kneeling at the motionless girl’s side. He touched the magic Eugenia had laid over her. It had the feel of a blanket, and did nothing more sinister than cast Verity into a light sleep. It would wear off soon, leaving her dazed, but unharmed.

  Assured the girl would be all right, Carstairs faced the labyrinth. His heart plummeted within him, for now he knew the purpose of the magical knot he’d sensed. This was a locked gate to the Twilight Realms—the native home of the Fae. He did not possess permission to pass through it, so for him, it was as solid a barrier to his magic as any barred door would be to his physical body.

  But even a barred door could let a voice pass. Carstairs rallied himself. He faced the gate, and opened himself wide.

  Alicia. Stop. Stand where you are, Alicia. I’m here. I’m here.

  Silence answered him, stretching out interminably. Carstairs’s heart shook. He could not have failed her. Not beautiful, brave Alicia. The Fae could not be smothering her light with their false glamours because he was too slow. This passion, this love that had taken such deep hold in him might be against all the laws of reason, but his heart cared nothing for that. It knew only that without Alicia’s presence, there would be only darkness.

  Alicia! Carstairs called with every fiber of his being. Alicia! Come back to me!

  “Alicia!” Edward’s voice cried behind her.

  Alicia whirled around, but instead of the garden of Hartwell House, she saw a wall of mist. Panic gripped her painfully. I’m back! I’m bound! Her thoughts gibbered and a scream tried to well up in her throat.

  But, oddly, it was the scream that saved her from sliding into hysteria. For if she had been truly bound, she could not scream. She would feel no desire to do so. Whatever this was, it was not her previous enchantment.

  Then what is it? And where is Edward? As Alicia had followed Aunt Hester into the garden, she’d felt his presence in the back of her mind, faint but steady. Now it was as if he’d been wiped from existence.

  Edward? She reached out with her mind. Edward!

  Her thoughts returned only silence. She truly was alone.

  Fear threatened again. Alicia suppressed it. It would do her no good here, wherever “here” might be. She made herself turn slowly around. She gasped. Because the mists only filled the world at her back. In front of her, she saw the entrance to a maze. It was not the familiar, small labyrinth from Hartwell House’s garden. This was an ancient hedge maze with its perfect, living walls towering dark and forbidding overhead.

  It was also the only place she could go. There was literally nowhere else.

  Alicia pressed her hand against her brow and steeled her heart against the circling panic. Edward might not be with her here, but she had what he’d taught her. She was not helpless and she would not give way.

  She faced the labyrinth again, clenched her trembling hands and started forward. The maze was as hushed as a dream, and the air held the deep blue of late twilight. Green, springtime scents surrounded her and threatened to lull her senses into relaxation. Alicia bit the inside of her cheek. When she reached the first branching in the paths, she grasped a hedge branch and bent it outward ruthlessly. In the silence, the crackle of the snapping twigs sounded as loud as falling bricks and the damage made a green flag to signal the way she’d come. Absurdly satisfied with her small vandalism, Alicia set off down the left-hand branch. She’d walked the garden labyrinth many times as a child. The way in was to the left, and it was the left-hand turnings she took now. But still she made her markers. If Edward should find a way to follow after her, he would need a guide.

  After the seventh turning, Alicia found herself in the center of the maze. She recognized the black plinth and the silver gazing ball.

  But she did not recognize the man who stood beside them and smiled at her.

  “Hello, Alicia.” His voice had all the soft and beguiling music of a running stream. Just hearing it, she longed to move closer, but she held her ground.

  “Who are you?” Alicia demanded.

  “Do you mean to say you’ve forgotten me?” The man’s pale features softened with regret, and Alicia felt tears spring into her eyes at having caused him a moment’s discomfort.

  “I…I’m sorry.” She had to force the words past a tightening in her throat. “Have we met?”

  The man inclined his head. “Oh, yes. Just recently, in fact. But before that, it was in the North Country. Of course, you were much smaller then. Perhaps this is how you remember me.”

  Alicia could not tell if the man grew or she shrank, but now she was gazing up at him. He wore pearlescent armor and a golden circlet adorned his brow. His smile was as dazzling as a summer sunrise. Now Alicia knew him. She knew him with all her heart.

  “You are the White Knight,” she whispered. Not in some distant vision, but here, now, in front of her. He walked forward. He brought with him a scent of warmth and spices. The force of his presence reached out to swallow sense and thought. With each step, their sizes grew more equal, until when he stood directly in front of her, he was only a tall man. Now he was close enough that she could see his eyes. They were nothing human. They were the silver and gold of stars at midnight, all swirled together in night’s darkness. They were impossible. They were beautiful, and they were filled with secrets and promises, just for her.

  “It is good to be with you again, Alicia.” The White Knight bent into a sweeping and graceful bow. “Especially now that you have grown into such a fine and beautiful woman.”

  Think of Edward, she ordered herself. Whatever he is, this man is not Edward. “What do you want with me?”

  “Only to tell you that your home is waiting for you.”

  “M-my home?”

  “Your home with me.” He took one more step forward and clasped her unresisting hand. “Don’t you remember? I promised you a place in my palace when you were little. It is still there. I never go back on my word.”

  “But who are you?”

  “I told you. I am your White Knight.” He lifted her hand to his smiling mouth. “But I could be much more, if you would permit.” He moved closer still and Alicia’s heart trembled in her breast. His sensuous lips did not quite touch her hand, but his breath brushed her fingertips. Desire, sweet and infinitely poignant, threaded its way into Alicia’s mind. She knew in an instant how his arms would feel around her. If he kissed her once, he would know her longings and her needs, and it would be his delight to fulfill them all.

  But even as desire for the man holding her hand threatened to drown her, another voice touched her, as if from a thousand miles away.

  Come back. Come back to me.

  Edward! Alicia jerked back, snatching her hand away. The White Knight’s head shot up, and a terrible fury blazed bright in his star-filled eyes.

  “This is not right,” Alicia cried, backing away. Her breath came short and harsh, and she could not calm it. “I am a married woman!”

  “Are you indeed?” The
White Knight arched his perfect brows as he looked her up and down. “I do not see the mark of it on you. And even if I did, I do not think much of a husband who imposes his own impudent desires upon his wife.”

  Memory of her times in Edward’s arms flashed through her, but it somehow seemed all wrong. Alicia clapped her hands to her head, but she could not shut these new images out. In her mind’s eye she saw Edward grinning horribly at her as he forced her to her knees. He shoved himself ruthlessly into her mouth although she choked and tried to struggle.

  “No!” She gritted her teeth against the terrible vision. “It is not like that. You can know nothing of it!”

  “But I can.” The White Knight moved silently and relentlessly closer until he brushed his fingertips against her temple. “And you know what I tell you is no falsehood, or you would not still be speaking to me. Come, Alicia.” His voice grew grave. “You must let me take you home.”

  She could not stand to look at him. Sorrow at her refusal, at her unjust accusations, radiated from him. Her heart began to falter. She had been lost for so long. He had never ceased to search for her. Now that he—her one true friend, her one true protector—had at last found her, she turned from him to the arms of an unworthy brute.

  “I don’t want to go with you,” said Alicia, but her voice was weak and unsteady.

  “I think you do, Alicia.” He was infinitely patient, infinitely tolerant. He understood that she was only confused and would help her to see the truth. “You remember how much you loved my home when you were a child. You should see it now with your woman’s eyes, your woman’s heart.”

  She did remember. The daylight world and her aunt’s cruelty had robbed her of her memories but the White Knight restored them all in an eyeblink. Now she could remember the endless time of warmth and laughter, of love and companionship, and all things that were beautiful. She’d been heartlessly stolen away from those who had lavished such gifts upon her. Who loved her. Not with man’s bestial lust, but with a love as pure and perfect as silver moonlight. Unchanging. Eternal.