Fairytale (37 page)

Shaking his head in wonder, he turned and
watched the others emerge from the briars, one by one. Brigit
hurried to his side, and slid her arms around his waist, burying
her head against his chest as a loud sob escaped against her will.
He held her close.

Bridin came next, and then Raze. There was a
long moment of silence, while they all stood staring.

“Well,” Bridin said at last. “This is it,
then.”

Raze moved toward her, put his hand on her
shoulder. “I’m going with you, Bridey.”

She shook her head. “It will be
dangerous.”

“Bridey, girl,” Raze said, and then he turned
to Brigit. “You girls need to know something. Your father, John, he
asked me to watch out for you. Way back when you were just babies.
I was no more than a bum. Hell, what did I know about caring for
little girls? I was the one who left you at St. Mary’s, and
delivered your father’s note, ‘cause I knew they’d care for you
there. And when you got separated, I went with you, Bridey, because
I sensed you were the one who needed me most. I lost myself for a
short time, when that Dark Prince got me under his spell, but I
came around soon enough. I’d sworn to be guardian to both of you,
for as long as I could. This doorway will open for me, Bridey. Your
father promised me it would.”

Brigit clung to Adam as Bridin hugged the old
man hard.

“Aside from you girls, I got no ties. And
there’s nothing in this world I’ll miss.” He touched Bridin’s
shoulder. “I want to go there, Bridey. I want to see it.”

Smiling gently, Bridin nodded.

“It’s just a cave,” Adam whispered, closing
his eyes as he held Brigit still harder. “Maybe there’s nothing on
the other side. We don’t even know—”

“You know,” Bridin told him. “It shows in
your eyes, Adam Reid. Come along, and walk us to the gateway. It’s
time.”

Brigit clung harder for a second. But then
she slipped out of Adam’s embrace. Bridin bent over and crawled
into the cave. Raze behind her. Grating his teeth, Adam followed
with Brigit close to him, all the way. Inside, they found the
larger, room-like area where he’d played as a child, and he ran his
hands over the stone to feel the spot where he’d carved his name
such a long time ago.

“Come,” Bridin said. She led them once around
the room, and then back to the entrance. And then she was scuttling
back through the passage, toward the gleaming yellow light at its
end.

Adam crawled behind her, his stomach
knotting, his pulse pounding. He kept telling himself it wouldn’t
be there. It wouldn’t. It couldn’t.

And he emerged, and stood just in front of
the cave’s entrance. Before him there was a wall of dense vapors—a
wavery film of something that looked the way heat waves look when
they rise from hot pavement. And he put his hand on it, but
couldn’t push it through.

“Rush,” Brigit whispered, as she emerged from
the cave and straightened. She turned in a slow circle, looking all
around her, and Adam knew she didn’t see the barrier. For her, it
wasn’t there. Just as it hadn’t been there for him when he was a
child. She could pass through...but he’d be unable to.

His heart contracted painfully.

Brigit threw herself into his arms, sobbing
aloud now, clinging to him with surprising strength.

“It’s going to kill me, Adam. God, I don’t
want to leave you. I love you. I love you!”

“I know.” His tears flowed freely now, and he
stroked her hair, kissed her face. “I know, baby. I love you, too.
This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Look there,” Raze said, pointing, and
everyone followed his gaze.

Castle spires stood beyond the trees in the
distance. Softly gray and silver, mingling with the clouds.

“The Kingdom of Rush,” Bridin whispered.

She turned then, touched Brigit’s shoulder,
drawing her away from Adam just a little, and pointing. And Brigit
looked toward those towers, and her eyes widened a little, in
wonder.

Bridin’s eyes filled with tears as she stared
at those spires, and Brigit reached out with a shaking hand, to
brush them away.

“Leave them,” Bridin told her. “I haven’t
been able to cry since I left here.”

“Bridin...”

“I have to go, Brigit. It’s my destiny. You
know that.”

“I know. I’m coming.” She turned back to
Adam, and he held her once more, knowing the time had come to let
her go. He loved her, God, how he loved her.

He dipped his head, and kissed her long and
deep. And then he straightened away from her. “Just know I love
you,” he told her. “Never forget that, Brigit. Now go, go on.”

Covering her face with her hands, Brigit
turned and ran away from him, sobbing out loud, as she passed
through that shimmering veil, and disappeared into the forest
beyond it.

“You’ll be rewarded, Adam Reid.”

“I’ll be in hell, Bridin. And if you let
anything happen to her...” He shook his head slowly, and ducked
back into the cave. Into blackness and emptiness. And he knew he’d
never emerge from it again. He’d never feel the sunlight. He’d
never smile. He’d never be happy again. Not without Brigit.

He made his way to the large room inside,
before his strength gave out. His legs wouldn’t hold him any
longer, so he sank to the floor with his back braced against the
cold stone wall, and he broke down. Grief pounded his body like a
hurricane, and he wondered if he’d ever find the strength to get up
again.

Brigit sank to the ground beneath an
odd-looking tree, with pictures in the swirls of its bark, and she
sobbed.

“My sister.”

She sniffed, shook her head, refusing to look
up. “No. It’s no good, Bridin, can’t you see that? I’m no good to
you here. I’ll never be any good without Adam. I need him.”

“This is Rush, Brigit. This is your home.
It’s where you were born.”

“But my heart isn’t here. It’s back there, on
the other side, with Adam.”

She cried softly, and in a second, her sister
whispered, “I know.”

The serenity in Bridin’s voice reached her.
She finally lifted her head, met her sister’s gaze.

“I’m sorry,” Bridin told her, and she lowered
herself down to the moss-covered ground, and put her arms around
Brigit. “I’m so sorry. But you’re right. You’ll be no good here. I
can see that. And I believe his love is true. Because he loved you
enough to let you go. And I believe yours is true as well, because
you gave him up in order to save his life.”

“What difference does it make now?” Brigit
bit her lip, but her tears continued flowing all the same. “I’ve
left him back there. And you said yourself we can’t pass through
the damned doorway unless we do it together.”

“It’s true. I needed you to get back. But I
do not need you in order to remain. I can do that all by myself. My
place is here.” She stroked Brigit’s hair, leaned close, and kissed
her cheek. “I thought yours was, too. I thought once you set foot
here, once you breathed the air of Rush, you’d...” Her voice
trailed off and she shook her head. “But no. Your place is back
there, in the mortal realm, with Adam.”

Brigit stopped crying. She met her sister’s
eyes. “But how...”

“There’s one way, Brigit.” Bridin reached up
to the back of her own neck, unclasped her pendant. “If one of us
has possession of both the pendants...either of us may pass through
the doorway alone.”

Brigit frowned, shaking her head slowly. “I
don’t understand. Why didn’t you say so in the first place, Bridin?
I’d have given you the pendant if that’s—”

“Giving up your pendant is only symbolic,

Brigit. It stands for a far greater
sacrifice. It means giving up your magic.”

Brigit blinked in surprise. Giving up the
magic? But she’d only just found it.

“I love you, my darling little sister.”
Bridin bowed her head, and held her pendant in an opened palm. “I
give you my—”

“No!” Brigit jerked herself rigid when she
realized what her sister meant to do. “No, Bridin. You mustn’t.
You’re the one who needs the magic. You’re the one who’s going to
stay here, and fight this Dark Prince for the throne. No.” And she
gave a small tug on her own pendant, freeing it, and pressing it
into her sister’s hand along with the other one. “I’m the one who
gives my magic to you. And my pendant. I won’t need it where I’m
going.”

Bridin bit her lip, closed her palm. “Thank
you,” she whispered.

“I love you, Bridin.”

“We’ll see each other again,” Bridin
insisted, nodding hard as if to insure it would be true. “When the
kingdom is safe Brigit, I’ll come through again.”

Brigit hugged her sister hard. “Thank you.
Thank you, Bridin.”

“Go on. Go back to your Adam.”

Brigit straightened away from her, and
turned. Raze had been standing nearby, watching with damp eyes and
an occasional sniffle. But then he went rigid, and waved a hand to
hush them, and Brigit listened, hearing the sound of hoofbeats in
the distance. “Someone’s coming.”

“Go!” Bridin gripped Brigit’s arm, pushing
her back toward the cave. “Go on, now before something happens to
you.”

“You go,” Brigit whispered back. “Go, hide in
the forest. Hurry.”

Bridin nodded, turned away. But she whirled
around, once again, to hug Brigit with all her might.

And then Raze grabbed Brigit and kissed her
cheek. “I’ll watch out for her, my girl. Don’t you worry.”

“Goodbye, Raze. I love you!”

Raze turned away as the hoofbeats drew
nearer. He gripped Bridin’s arm and ran off into the trees, and
they were soon invisible within the embrace of that mystical
forest. The forest that had once been Brigit’s home. She stared at
it, and at those castle spires beyond, for only an instant.

And then Brigit turned and ran to the doorway
without a backward glance. She ducked her head and crouched low as
she crept back inside the cave.

She found Adam there. He sat on the floor and
his face was wet with tears that shimmered in the darkness. He
seemed lost in agony, and he only blinked in confusion when he saw
her.

Then he blinked again, and slowly got to his
feet. “Brigit?”

“It’s all right, Adam,” she told him,
hurrying to him, pressing herself close as he enfolded her in his
strong, trembling arms.

“God, is this real? If it is, Brigit, I’m
sorry, but I can’t let you go back. I can’t let you go. It’s
impossible, and it can’t be right. Not when it feels so damned
wrong. Not when—”

“Shhsh.” She tipped her head up, and planted
a brief kiss on his mouth. “I told you, it’s all right. I’m
staying.”

He just stared in disbelief, shaking his head
slowly. “Staying?”

“Yes. Yes, Adam.”

Gradually, his lips pulled into a smile, and
his eyes widened. “Staying?” he asked again. “Jesus, Brigit, say it
again.”

“I’m staying, Adam. Right here with you,
forever if you think you can stand me that long.”

His arms tightened around her waist, and he
lifted her right off her feet, turning her in a circle. Then he let
her slide down the front of him until her feet touched the ground,
and he bent his head to kiss her, and kiss her, and kiss her.

And when he came up for a breath of air, he
held her hard, burying his face in her hair and inhaling. “I love
you, Brigit. More than anything in the world. I want to marry you.”
He drew away so he could look down into her eyes. “Say you’ll be my
wife.”

“I think that would be for the best,” she
told him, and she gripped his hands and brought them down until his
palms rested on her abdomen. “Since my sister tells me I’m carrying
your son.”

He closed his eyes. Bit his lower lip. And
she marveled at the tear that rolled down his cheek a second later.
“You’re not a fairy,” he whispered. “You’re an angel, Brigit.
You’re the angel sent from heaven to save my life. To give me
back
my life. And I’m going to cherish you...” His hands
rubbed her belly gently. “...And our baby, for as long as I live. I
promise.”

“I’m not magic anymore,” she told him.

“Oh, yes you are, angel.” He dropped to his
knees, and pressed a kiss to the part of her that sheltered his
child. “Cause if this isn’t magic, I don’t know what is.”

Then he rose, and kissed her. It was an
endless kiss filled with promises, and dreams......and magic.

There were tears of joy in Adam’s eyes when
he leaned over her and gently laid their newborn son into her arms.
“His name is Jonathon, after your father,” he told her, kissing her
face, tasting her tears. He couldn’t take his eyes from the
wriggling bundle nestled in the downy white blanket. He had his
mother’s curling, jet-black hair and his father’s sapphire eyes. To
Adam there was no one in the room other than the three of them. No
doctors or nurses milling around, cleaning up, removing latex
gloves, commenting on his healthy son. Just him and his wife and
little Jonathon.

“And Adam, after you,” Brigit said. Her son
had a grip on her finger, and it seemed she couldn’t look away.
“Don’t forget. We agreed.”

“Jonathon Adam Reid. Just as we agreed.”

And he kissed her.

“He chose a good day to be born, didn’t
he?”

“A perfect day,” she replied. “The day the
first copies of his own personal fairytale—the one his parents
created just for him —hit the shelves. I think he knew.”

“Speaking of which,” said one of the nurses,
interrupting them. “I brought my own copy. Will you autograph it
for me?”

She picked up the huge storybook from where
she’d dropped it when she’d rushed in here, hours ago. It was bound
in a lovely leather cover. Each and every page had a beautiful,
whimsical painting illustrating it. Paintings created by Brigit,
with the remnants of magic she seemed to have retained despite the
loss of her pendant.