Chapter 13
Chapter
Thirteen
“It will never work.”
Magnus turned from the window of the new private solar on the seventh floor and glared at his brother.
“We must try. If it gives Lyla the reassurance she seeks, she will complete the vow. We’ve naught but six days left.
Her decision must be made, lest the Veil make it for her—to the detriment of us all. ”
“The Weavers should be here any time.” Talon joined him at the wide wall of windows overlooking the sea.
“Six days, Talon. Weavers dinna always feel the same urgency as ourselves.”
“Well, they should in this case. It has to do with that feckin’ Veil they’ve sworn to protect.”
“Keep yer voice down.” Magnus glanced at the door that led to the trio of halls connecting the solar to the bedchamber, the dressing room, and the even larger, more impressive bathing solar.
Tern and Inuk had outdone themselves in the magic they’d used to turn the sprawling seventh floor into an impressive chief’s suite.
Their feelings of guilt had proven to be a very strong force, fueling their creativity to even greater heights than usual.
“I dinna wish her upset any more than she already is. Martha’s betrayal hurt her.
That feckin’ maid was one of the first ones she trusted here, and with Lyla, I dinna believe trust comes all that easy.
” He returned his focus to the wall of windows and studied the play of lightning rippling through the poisonous shield of clouds walling off Thornpitch from the rest of the Realm.
“Any progress on the weaponry against Kcirred's barrier?”
“None. Everything we try falls short.” Talon glared at the bank of venomous fog. “I canna believe that Kcirred's magic powers that thing. No druid has ever been known to be that mighty or powerful. The evil he allied with had to have done the spellwork for him.”
“We shall see.” Eager to get started, Magnus went to the door leading to the trio of halls, opened it, and called out, “Lyla? Are ye near ready, my love?”
Albionna rushed to the door and met him.
“Our lady is almost finished with her preparations, my chief.” The Selkie maid glanced back over her shoulder, then leaned in close and whispered, “She is still verra weak and has to stop to catch her breath occasionally.” She looked back again, then turned back to him and smiled.
“But she is determined. Take heart. She is determined to see this through. That is her strength, mighty chief.” Before he could comment, she spun about and returned to her mistress.
“Six days,” Magnus muttered. Naught but six days to nurture the possibility of an eternity of happiness.
He toyed with the idea of taking Lyla to visit Bastion and Frostborn’s hatchlings in the hopes of tilting the odds in his favor.
She’d mentioned more than once how adorable she’d found the wee dragons.
But as he turned to run the plot past Talon, she appeared in the doorway.
Wan and noticeably weak, she still held her head high and walked on her own, barely leaning on Albionna.
Magnus reached for her. “My love.”
Her smile a bit shaky, she took his hand and held on tight. “Whew. I thought I was ready for this. Now, I’m not so sure. How many steps to the tower?”
“None, my love. I shall transport us with magic.” Her frailty concerned him, but Albionna was right: Lyla’s determination would see her through. He just prayed it would see her through to him.
She seemed to breathe easier, and her smile steadied. “Thank goodness.”
He tucked her into the curve of his arm and held her close to his side. “I give ye my strength, my love. Hold fast to me and dinna fear.”
When she leaned and rested her head against him, his heart soared. “If I know anything for certain,” she said, “I know you’re safe and will always protect me.”
He tightened his arm around her and uttered, “Tutum,” because the tower was a place of safety and always would be. That was why they housed the Scale of Rurik there.
“Wow.” Lyla looked around, as wide-eyed and awestruck as a newly hatched dragon. “What a view.” Then she frowned and pointed. “Is that the wall to Thornpitch? The one Hellys told me about?”
“That is the wall we mean to take down, my lady,” Talon told her. “We must simply discover how to do it. Those clouds are filled with powerful poisons. Few survive contact with them.”
She frowned, her eyes narrowing as she studied the long line of lightning-filled clouds. Her reluctance to pull her gaze from them was apparent as she turned her attention to the pedestal holding the scale. “And that’s the Scale of Rurik?”
“Aye, my love.” Magnus brought her closer, willing the ancient scrying tool to recognize her as the future lady of the Realm.
“Show her what she seeks, mighty Rurik.” But he also prayed that it showed her something to convince her that her people were safe, and she could move on and seek happiness for herself.
“Talon will help us. His blood magic mixed with mine helps us receive the clearest visions.”
“And this isn’t like some fortune teller’s crystal ball exhibit at the fair?”
“I dinna ken what that is.” He turned to Talon and arched a brow.
Talon shook his massive, horned head. “A fortune teller’s what?”
“A trick used by some unscrupulous humans I’ve run across in my time.”
“The Scale of Rurik is no trick. Rurik was the greatest seer of the Thirteenth Realm. Her passing into the never-ending sleep was mourned by all because no other dragon has ever possessed her skills or accuracy.” Magnus hoped Lyla hadn’t insulted the scale or Rurik’s spirit that might be looking in from the peaceful plane dragons went to when they slept.
With a heartfelt look of sincerity, Lyla offered the scale a respectful nod.
“I would appreciate it more than you could ever know if you’d show me the people I’ve helped back in Cincinnati and Louisville.
It would bring me great peace to know that they’re okay, even though I’m not still there to help them. ”
The gray, softly glowing surface of the scale exploded with a glowing light brighter than any torch, startling Magnus. He looked across at Talon and thought, “We nay offered it our blood or our magic.”
Talon thought back with the slightest shrug, “Be still, brother—and pray.”
“It’s Jake.” Smiling proudly, Lyla stepped closer. “Oh my gosh—listen to him. He’s improved so much, and I haven’t been gone that long. He and Sylvia must’ve really hit it off, and he must be practicing non-stop. Well done, Jake! Well done!”
The young lad sitting in front of the piano played a jaunty song that had him bouncing in time with the rhythm. A woman stood behind him, clapping with the beat of the music, and bobbing her head with the tune.
“That’s his mother, Sara,” Lyla whispered. “She’s had to work so hard to keep Jake with her. She’s fought tooth and nail to give him everything he needs. She looks so happy—and so much healthier. They must be eating better.”
The view widened and took in the rest of the room, revealing several people gathered to enjoy the boy’s music. Tears streamed down Lyla’s face, but she was smiling. “They’re all there. All the tenants. It looks like they’re celebrating. They all look so happy.”
The scrying scale changed views again, shifting to show what was on the table.
Lyla leaned closer and squinted at the letter that lay unfolded beside a large white sheet cake with the words Congratulations Jake written across it in bright blue icing.
“He’s been accepted to the Conservatory of Music!
Oh my gosh! That’s fantastic. He’ll be one of their youngest.” Lyla hugged herself, then bent again and squinted harder at the letter.
“And it’s all paid for by the Ibrams Foundation, Seven Cairns Division.
” She clapped a hand over her mouth, then turned to Magnus.
“Mairwen didn’t lie. They’re taking care of them.
They’ve carried on my foundation. Fixed the damage Derrick did to it. ”
One of the guests in the room, Mr. Abernathy, lifted a glass. “To Miss Lyla! God bless her for taking care of all of us. God bless her for everything!”
Everyone in the room cheered and lifted their glasses in agreement.
With her hands pressed to her cheeks, Lyla wept harder. “I’m so happy for them. So very happy.”
Magnus breathed easier than he had in a very long while. He sent up a heartfelt prayer of thanks to Rurik’s sleeping soul and any other entity that might be listening for allowing Lyla access to this reassuring vision.
“They all look so happy,” she repeated again and again. “Thank you,” she whispered as she reached out and flattened her palm on the scale. “Thank you so much for showing me they’re all right.”
The scale exploded with brightness again, then flickered to a dark shade of purple.
The tower chimes rang louder as if set to dancing by a gale-force wind.
But there was no wind. The air at the top of the tower was as still as stone.
Then, across the purple surface of the scale, gleaming letters of gold appeared:
Heart of my heart,
Soul of my soul,
We reunite,
To never let go.
Blood of my blood,
Bone of my bone,
We two are now one,
Our halves are now whole.
For the good of all,
With harm to none,
So let it be spoken,
So let it be done,
So mote it be.
Her lips slightly moving, Lyla read the words, then turned to Magnus. “What does it mean?”
He smiled. “’Tis the binding vow, my love. The oath that reunites our souls and melds them together as they were when time began.” Lifting her hand to his lips, he brushed the lightest of kisses across her knuckles. “But the choice is still yers to make.”
Eyes big and an even darker, more brilliant blue than usual, she stared up at him with her lips barely parted. “I choose you,” she whispered. Reaching up to touch his face, she said it again, louder, “I choose you.”
The tower chimes sang out with more strength than ever before.