“Allow me?” She pushed away from her husband, glaring at him. “I thought we’d had this wholeallowconversation worked out some time ago. You don’t get to forbid me to do anything, dearest. That’s not part of our arrangement.”
Colin knew he should step in. He should say something now, insist that Leah not take this risk. But her risk could mean life or death for the woman he loved.
“And what about the babe?”
“First off, we don’t even know that there is a baby. We only suspect that I might be pregnant. And second, healing that woman in there isn’t going to hurt my baby. What do you expect me to do? What would you have me tell the child I might be carrying? ‘Oh, yes, little one, you did have an aunt once, but she died because I was too concerned about a little pain in my side to save her life’? I don’t think so, Drew. You should know me better than that.”
“Indeed, my dearling, I do.” Drew placed a quick kiss on her cheek. “And since we ken each other so very well, you’ll no be surprised when I say that if you insist on doing this, I must insist on being at yer side when you do.”
“I would expect nothing less.” She placed a hand on his arm before turning her attention to Colin. “I don’t want her to suffer any longer than she already has. Let’s do this thing now.”
She pushed open the bedchamber door, allowing him at last to rejoin his wife. Abby’s eyes were closed, her skin pale except for the swollen scrapes on one cheek.
Colin laid a hand over her breast, reassured that even though she fought for each quick breath, her heart still beat in rhythm with his own.
“Once I begin, I need to make sure you don’t touch her, do you understand? No one can touch either of us. The connection must be only between her and me.”
Colin nodded, his throat too tight to allow words. He stepped back from the bed to stand beside his brother to await what was to come.
Leah held her hands over Abby’s chest, fluttering them back and forth, hovering just above her ribs. Fromthe movement of her lips, he knew she spoke to Abby, likely explaining what she was doing, reassuring his beloved that all would be well. A low humming filled the room, obscuring her actual words.
He glanced at the ceiling, wondering for a moment if his brother had been negligent and allowed bees to take up residence in the keep, but there was no sign of any insect, even as the pitch and volume of the noise grew. Only when he was forced for the second time to drag the hair from his eyes did it occur to him that a wind had whipped up.
A wind inside the room.
The air between where he stood and the bed where his beloved lay began to shimmer and sparkle, as if it thickened and solidified before his very eyes. Tiny streaks of color shot through the air, dancing around him like the insects he’d sought only moments before.
But these were no insects. He recognized them well, even before the sphere of green light surrounded them. They were the shards of Faerie Magic Leah called on to do her bidding.
It took all his will to keep his distance, especially once the Magic materialized. His worst fear was that when the Magic receded, Abby would be gone, taken from him back to the time where she belonged.
No, that was a falsehood. His worst fear wasn’t losing her to her own time. It was losing her to death. At least if she were returned home, he’d have the comfort of knowing that she lived.
Thunder rumbled from a nearby storm, so close to the keep he’d almost swear it was inside the room with them. Once more the thunder boomed and the spheresurrounding the two women shattered, sending shards of flickering colors shooting toward them, through them, beyond them.
Instinctively, he hit the floor, embarrassed that he had until he saw his brother crouching next to him looking as discomfited as he felt.
Drew was on his feet first but reached the bed only a step ahead of Colin. Leah slumped over Abby, her brow damp with perspiration, her eyes closed. Abby appeared as one asleep, her breathing deep and regular, the color returned to her cheeks, the markings on her face gone.
Not gone, transferred to Leah’s cheek.
“Is she . . .” He couldn’t bring himself to ask the question of Drew, not with his brother’s distress so evident as he lifted his wife into his arms.
“I’m fine,” Leah answered, her shallow panting attempts at breathing belying her words. “Need sleep.”
“And sleep you’ll have, dearling.” Drew started for the door, stopping to turn briefly. “Abby will likely sleep through the night as well. You’d be wise to do the same.”
Sleep? With his beloved’s life hanging in the balance? His brother had lost his sense of reason.
Very cautiously, Colin climbed onto the bed with Abby, taking great care not to jostle or move her in any way as he lay down next to her.
He would content himself with simply watching her, with counting each long, slow breath she took. He would use the time to send a prayer up with each and every one of those breaths that she still lived when morning’s light graced their world.
Forty-one
Abby dreamed of warm places, safe and tidy little spots in a perfect world. The dreams were short, fractured, hopping from scene to scene, barely allowing her time to settle into one before it morphed into another. All had one thing in common: in each and every location, Colin awaited her, his arms open wide to gather her in and hold her close.
She opened her eyes, not at all surprised to find Colin next to her, fast asleep. He held her hand sandwiched between his callused palm and his heart.