Once upon a Dream (8 page)

H
E BROUGHT HER
flowers for the table, and they ate her meal with the candles glowing.

He touched her often, just a brush of fingers on the back of her hand. A dozen sensory memories stored for a endless time of longing.

He made her laugh, to hear the sound of it and store that as well. He asked her questions only to hear her voice, the rise and fall of it.

When the meal was done, he walked with her, to see how the moonlight shone in her hair.

Late into the night, he made love with her, as tenderly as he knew how. And knew it was for the last time.

When she slept, when he sent her deep into easy dreams, he was resolved, and he was content with what needed to be done.

 

She dreamed, but the dreams weren't easy ones. She was lost in the forest, swallowed by the mists that veiled the trees and smothered the path. Light shimmered through it,
so drops of moisture glittered like jewels. Jewels that melted away at the touch of her hand, and left her nothing.

She could hear sounds—footsteps, voices, even music—but they seemed to come from underwater. Drowning sounds that never took substance. No matter how hard she tried to find the source, she could come no closer.

The shapes of trees were blurred, the color of the flowers deadened. When she tried to call out, her voice seemed to carry no farther than her own ears.

She began to run, afraid of being lost and being alone. She only had to find the way out. There was always a way out. And her way back to him. As panic gushed inside her, she tried to tear the mists away, ripping at them with her fingers, beating at them with her fists.

But her hands only passed through, and the curtain stayed whole.

Finally, through it, she saw the faint shadow of the house. The spear of its turrets, the sweep of its battlements were softened like wax in the thick air. She ran toward it, sobbing with relief. Then with joy as she saw him standing by the massive doors.

She ran to him now, her arms flung out to embrace, her lips curved for that welcoming kiss.

When her arms passed through him, she understood he was the mist.

And so was she.

She woke weeping and reaching out for him, but the bed beside her was cold and empty. She shivered, though the fire danced cheerfully to warm the room. A dream, just a dream. That was all. But she was cold, and she got out of bed to wrap herself in the thick blue robe.

Where was Flynn? she wondered. They always woke together, almost as if they were tied to each other's rhythms. She glanced out the windows as she walked toward the fire to warm her chilled hands. The sun was beaming and bright, which explained why Flynn hadn't been wrapped around her when she woke.

She'd slept away the morning.

Imagine that, she thought with a laugh. Slept away the morning, dreamed away the night. It was so unlike her.

So unlike her, she thought again as her hands stilled. Dreaming. She never remembered her dreams, not even in jumbled pieces. Yet this one she remembered exactly, in every detail, almost as though she'd lived it.

Because she was relaxed, she assured herself. Because her mind was relaxed and open. People were always saying how real dreams could be, weren't they? She'd never believed that until now.

If hers were going to be that frightening, that heartbreaking, she'd just as soon skip them.

But it was over, and it was a beautiful day. There were no mists blanketing the trees. The flowers were basking in the sunlight, their colors vibrant and true. The clouds that so often stacked themselves in layers over the Irish sky had cleared, leaving a deep and brilliant blue.

She would pick flowers and braid them into Dilis's mane. Flynn would give her another riding lesson. Later, perhaps she'd begin on the library. It would be fun to prowl through all the books. To explore them and arrange them.

She would
not
be obsessive about it. She wouldn't fall into that trap again. The chore would be one of pleasure rather than responsibility.

Throwing open the windows, she leaned out, breathed in the sweet air. “I've changed so much already,” she murmured. “I like the person I'm becoming. I can be friends with her.”

She shut her eyes tight. “Mom, I wish I could tell you. I'm so much in love. He makes me so happy. I wish I could let you know, and tell you that I understand now. I wish I could share this with you.”

With a sigh, she stepped back, leaving the windows open.

 

He kept himself busy. It was the only way he could get through the day. In his mind, in his heart, he'd said good-bye to her the night before. He'd already let her go.

There was no choice but to let her go.

He could have kept her with him, drawing her into the long days, the endless nights of the next dreaming. His solitude would be broken, the loneliness diminished. And at the end of it, she would be there for that brief week. To touch. To be.

The need for her, the desire to have her close, was the strongest force he'd ever known. But for one.

Love.

Not just with the silken beauty of the dreams he'd shared with her. But with the pains and joys that came from a beating heart.

He would not deny her life, steal from her what she had known, what she would be. How had he ever believed he could? Had he really thought that his own needs, the most selfish and self-serving of them, outweighed the most basic of hers?

To live. To feel heat and cold, hunger, thirst, pleasure and pain.

To watch herself change with the years. To shake the hand of a stranger, embrace a loved one. To make children and watch them grow.

For all his power, all his knowledge, he could give her none of those things. All he had left for her was the gift of freedom.

To comfort himself, he pressed his face to Dilis's neck, drew in the scents of horse and straw, of oat and leather. How was it he could forget, each time forget the wrenching misery of these last hours? The sheer physical pain of knowing it was all ending again.

He was ending again.

“You've always been free. You know I have no claim to keep you here, should you choose to go.” He lifted his head, stroking the stallion's head as he looked into his
eyes. “Carry her away safe for me. And if you go beyond, I'll not count it against you.”

He stepped back, drew his breath. There was work yet, and the morning was passing fast.

When it was done, the last spell, the thin blanket of forget spread at the edges of his prison, he saw Kayleen in his mind's eye.

She wandered through the gardens toward the verge of the forest. Looking for him, calling his name. The pain was like an arrow in the heart, almost driving him to his knees.

So, he was not prepared after all. He fisted his hands, struggled for composure. Resolved but not prepared. How would he ever live without her?

“She will live without me,” he said aloud. “That I want more. We'll end it now, quick and clean.”

He could not will her away, will her back into her world and into life. But he could drive her from him, so that the choice to go was her own.

Taking Dilis's reins, only for the comfort of contact, he walked for the last time as a man, for yet a century to come, through the woods toward home.

 

She heard the jingle of harness and the soft hoofbeats. Relieved, she turned toward the sound, walking quickly as Flynn came out of the trees.

“I wondered where you were.” She threw her arms around his neck, and he let her. Her mouth pressed cheerfully to his, and he absorbed the taste of it.

“Oh, I had a bit of work.” The words cut at his throat like shards of glass. “It's a fine day for it, and for your travels.”

“For my travels.”

“Indeed.” He gave her a little pat, then moved away to adjust the stirrups of Dilis's saddle. “I've cleared the path, so you'll have no trouble. You'll find your way easily enough. You're a resourceful woman.”

“My way? Where?”

He glanced back, gave her an absent smile. “Out, of course. It's time for you to go.”

“Go?”

“There, that should do.” He turned to her fully. Every ounce of power he owned went into the effort. “Dilis will take you as far as you need. I'd go with you myself, but I've so much to see to yet. I saw you have one of those little pocket phones in your car. Fascinating things. I have to remember to get one myself for the study of it. You should be able to use it once you're over the border.”

“I don't understand what you're saying.” How could she when her mind had gone numb, when her heart had stopped beating. “I'm not going.”

“Kayleen, darling, of course you are.” He patted her cheek. “Not that it hasn't been a delight having you here. I don't know when I've been so diverted.”

“Di…
diverted
?”

“Mmm. God, you're a tasty bit,” he murmured, then leaned down to nip at her bottom lip. “Perhaps we could take just enough time to…” His hands roamed down her, giving her breasts a teasing squeeze.

“Stop!” She stumbled back, came up hard against Dilis, who shifted, restless. “A diversion? That's all this was to you? A way to pass the time?”

“Passed it well, didn't we? Ah, sweetheart, I gave as much pleasure as I got. You can't deny it. But we've both got things to get back to, don't we?”

“I love you.”

She was killing him. “God bless the female heart.” And he said it with a chuckle. “It's so generous.” Then he lifted his brows, rolled his eyes under them. “Ah, don't be making a scene and spoil this parting moment. We've enjoyed each other, and that's the end. Where did you think this was going? It's time out of time, Kayleen. Now don't be stubborn.”

“You don't love me. You don't want me.”

“I loved you well enough.” He winked at her. “And wanted you plenty.” When the tears swam into her eyes,
he threw up his hands as if exasperated. “For pity's sake, woman, I brought some magic and romance into a life you yourself said was tedious. I gave you some sparkle.” He lifted her pearls with a fingertip.

“I never asked for jewels. I never wanted anything but you.”

“Took them, though, didn't you? Just as another took the sparkles from me once. Do you think, after having a woman damn me to this place, I'd want another around for longer than it takes to amuse myself?”

“I'm not like her. You can't believe—”

“A woman's a woman,” he said carelessly. “And I've given you a pretty holiday, with souvenirs besides. The least you can do is be grateful and go along when I bid you. I've no more time for you, and none of the patience to dry your tears and cuddle. Up you go.”

He lifted her, all but tossed her into the saddle.

“You said you wouldn't hurt me.” She dragged the pearls over her head, hurled them into the dirt at his feet. She stared at him, and in his face she saw the savageness again, the brutality, and none of the tenderness. “You lied.”

“You hurt yourself, by believing what wasn't there. Go back to your tame world. You've no place in mine.”

He slapped a hand violently on Dilis's flank. The horse reared, then lunged forward.

When she was gone, swallowed up by the forest, Flynn dropped to his knees on the ground—and grieved.

S
HE WANTED TO
find anger. Bitterness. Anything that would overpower this hideous pain. It had dried up even her tears, had smothered any rage or sorrow before it could fully form.

It had all been a lie. Magic was nothing but deceit.

In the end, love hadn't been the answer. Love had done nothing but make her a fool.

Didn't it prove she'd been right all along? Her disdain of the happy ending her mother had regaled her with had been sense, not stubbornness. There were no fairy tales, no loves that conquered all, no grand sweep of romance to ride on forever.

Letting herself believe, even for a little while, had shattered her.

Yet how could she not have believed? Wasn't she even now riding on a white horse through the forest? That couldn't be denied. If she'd misplaced her heart, she couldn't deny all that she'd seen and done and experi
enced. How did she, logical Kayleen, resolve the unhappy one with the magnificent other?

How could he have given her so much, shown her so much, and thought of her as only a kind of temporary entertainment? No, no, something was wrong. Why couldn't she think?

Dilis walked patiently through the trees as she pondered. It had all happened so quickly. This change in him had come like a fingersnap, and left her reeling and helpless. Now, she willed her mind to clear, to analyze. But after only moments, her thoughts became scattered and jumbled once again.

Her car was unmarked, shining in the sunlight that dappled through the trees. It sat tidily on a narrow path that ran straight as a ruler through the forest.

He'd cleared the path, he'd said. Well, he certainly was a man of his word. She slid off the horse, slowly circled the car. Not a scratch, she noted. Considerate of him. She wouldn't have to face the hassle that a wrecked car would have caused with the rental company.

Yes, he'd cleared that path as well. But why had he bothered with such a mundane practicality?

Curious, she opened the car door and sliding behind the wheel, turned the key. The engine sprang to life, purred.

Runs better than it did when I picked it up, she thought. And look at that, to top things off, we have a full tank.

“Did you want me out of your life so badly, Flynn, that you covered all contingencies? Why were you so cruel at the end? Why did you work so hard to make me hate you?”

He'd given her no reason to stay, and every rational reason to go.

With a sigh, she got out of the car to say good-bye to Dilis. She indulged herself, running her hands over his smooth hide, nuzzling at his throat. Then she patted his flank. “Go back to him now,” she murmured, and turned away to spare her heart as the horse pranced off.

Because she wanted some tangible reminder of her
time there, she picked a small nosegay of wildflowers, twined the stems together, and regardless of the foolishness of the gesture, tucked them into her hair.

She got into the car again and began to drive.

The sun slanted in thin beams through the trees, angled over the little lane. As she glanced in her mirror, she saw the path shimmer, then vanish behind her in a tumble of moss and stones and brambles. Soon there would be nothing but the silent wood, and no trace that she had ever walked there with a lover.

But she would remember, always, the way he'd looked at her, the way he would press his lips to the heart of her hand. The way he'd bring her flowers and scatter them over her hair.

The way his eyes would warm with laughter, or heat with passion when…His eyes. What color were his eyes? Slightly dizzy, she stopped the car, pressed her fingers to her temples.

She couldn't bring his face into her mind, not clearly. How could she not know the color of his eyes? Why couldn't she quite remember the sound of his voice?

She shoved out of the car, stumbled a few steps. What was happening to her? She'd been driving from Dublin on the way to her bed-and-breakfast. A wrong turn. A storm. But what…

Without thinking, she took another step back down the now overgrown path. And her mind snapped clear as crystal.

Her breath was coming short. She turned, stared at the car, the clear path in front of it, the impassable ground behind.

“Flynn's eyes are green,” she said. His face came clearly into her mind now. And when she took a cautious step forward, her memory of him went hazy.

This time she stepped back quickly, well back. “You wanted me to forget you. Why? Why if none of it mattered did you care if I remembered you or not? Why would it matter if I broke my heart over you?”

A little shaky, she sat down on the ground. And she began to do what she'd always done best. Be logical.

 

Flynn sat as he had on the night it had begun. In the chair in front of the fire in the tower. He'd watched in the flames until Kayleen had gotten into her car. After that, he hadn't been able to bear it, so he had hazed the vision with smoke.

He'd lost track of the time that he'd sat there now, chained by his own grief. He knew the day was passing. The slant of sunlight through the window had shortened and was dimming.

She would be beyond now, and would have forgotten him. That was for the best. There would be some confusion, of course. A loss of time never fully explained. But she would put that behind her as well.

In a year or two, or twenty, he might look into the fire again, and see how she was. But he would never open his mind to her in dreams, for that would be more torment than he could ever possibly bear.

She would be changed a little by what had passed between them. More open to possibilities, to the magic of life. He lifted the strings of pearls, watched them glow in the light of the dying fire. At least that was a gift she hadn't been able to hurl at his feet.

With the pearls wrapped around his fingers, he lowered his face into his hands. He willed the time to come when pain could strike only his mind, when every sense wasn't tuned so sharply that he could smell her even now. That soft scent that whispered in the air.

“Bring on the bloody night,” he muttered and threw his head back.

Then he was stumbling to his feet, staring. She stood not three feet away. Her hair was tangled, her clothes torn. Scratches scored her hands and face.

“What trick is this?”

“I want my boon. I want what you promised me.”

“What have you done?” His knees unlocked and he
lunged toward her, grabbing her hard by the arms. “How are you hurt? Look at you. Your hands are all torn and bleeding.”

“You put briars in my way.” She gave him a shove, and such was his shock that she knocked him back two full steps. “You bastard. It took hours to get through them.”

“Get through.” His head snapped back, as if she'd slapped him. “You have to go. Go! Now! What's the time?” He was pushing her out of the room, and when that wasn't quick enough he began to drag her.

“I'm not going. Not until you grant my boon.”

“You damn well are.” Terrified, he tossed her over his shoulder and began to run. As she struggled and cursed him, he began to fly.

The night was closing in. Time that had dripped began to flood. He went as deep into the forest as he dared. The edges of his prison seemed to hiss around him.

“There.” Fear for her slicked his skin. “Your car's just up ahead. Get in it and go.”

“Why? So I can drive a little farther and forget all this? Forget you? You'd have stolen that from me.”

“I've no time to argue with you.” He grabbed her shoulders and shook. “There is no time. If you stay past the last stroke of twelve, you're trapped here. A hundred years will pass before you can walk away again.”

“Why do you care? It's a big house. A big forest. I won't get in your way.”

“You don't understand. Go. This place is mine, and I don't want you here.”

“You're trembling, Flynn. What frightens you?”

“I'm not frightened, I'm angry. You've abused my hospitality. You're trespassing.”

“Call the cops,” she suggested. “Call your Keepers. Or…why don't you just flick me out, the way you flick things in? But you can't, can you?”

“If I could, you'd be gone already.” He yanked her a few steps toward the car, then swore when the ground in
front of his boots began to spark and smoke. That was the edge of his prison.

“Big, powerful magician, but you can't get rid of me that way. You couldn't bring me here, and you can't send me away. Not with magic, because I have heart and soul. I have will. So you tried to drive me away with careless words. Cruel, careless words. You didn't think I'd see through them, did you? Didn't think I'd figure it all out. You forgot who you were dealing with.”

“Kayleen.” He took her hands now, squeezing desperately. “Do this thing I ask now, won't you?”

“A diversion,” she said. “That's a crock. You love me.”

“Of course I love you.” He shook her harder, shouted so his voice boomed through the forest. “That's the bloody point. And if you care for me, you'll do what I tell you, and do it now.”

“You love me.” Her breath came out on a sob as she flung herself against him. “I knew it. Oh, I'm so angry with you. I'm so in love with you.”

His arms ached to grip, to hold. He made himself push her away, hold her at arm's length. “Listen to me, Kayleen. Clear the stars out of your eyes and be sensible. I've no right to love you. Be quiet!” he snapped when she started to speak. “You remember what I told you about this place, about me. Do you feel my hands on you, Kayleen?”

“Yes. They're trembling.”

“After midnight, one breath after, you won't feel them, or anything else. No touch, no contact. You'll pick a flower, but you won't feel the stem or the petals. Its perfume will be lost to you. Can you feel your own heart beat? Beating inside you? You won't. It's worse than death to be and yet not be. Day by day into the decades with nothing of substance. Nothing but what's in your mind. And,
a ghra
, you haven't even the magic to amuse yourself into some sanity. You'll be lost, little more than a ghost.”

“I know.” Like the dream, she thought. A mist within the mist.

“There's more. There can be no children. During the dreaming nothing can grow in you. Nothing can change in or of you. You will have no family, no comfort. No choice. This is my banishment. It will not be yours.”

Though her nerves began to dance, her gaze stayed steady. “I'll have my boon.”

He swore, threw up his hands. “Woman, you try me to the bone. All right, then. What will you?”

“To stay.”

“No.”

“You took a vow.”

“And so I break it. What more can be done to me?”

“I'll stay anyway. You can't stop me.”

But he could. There was one way to save her in the time left him. One final way. “You defeat me.” He drew her close, rocked her against him. “You've a head like a rock. I love you, Kayleen. I loved you in dreams, when dreams were all there was for me. I love you now. It killed me to hurt you.”

“I want to be with you, no matter how short the time or how long. We'll dream together until we can live together again.”

He took her mouth. A deep kiss, a drugging one that spun in her head, blurred her vision. Joy settled sweetly in her heart.

When she sighed, he stepped back from her. “Five hundred years,” he said quietly. “And only once have I loved. Only you.”

“Flynn.” She started to move toward him, but the air between them had hardened into a shield. “What is this?” She lifted her fisted hands to it, pushed. “What have you done?”

“There's a choice, and it's mine to make. I will not damn you to my prison, Kayleen. No power can sway me.”

“I won't go.” She pounded a fist on the shield.

“I know it, and understand it as well. I should have before. I would never leave you, either.
Manim astheee hu.
” My soul, he said in the language of his birth, is within you. “You brought me a gift, Kayleen. Love freely given.”

The wind began to kick. From somewhere a sound boomed, slow and dull, like a clock striking the hour.

“I give you a gift in return. Life to be lived. I have a choice, one offered me long ago. A hundred years times five.”

“What are you…No!” She flung herself at the shield, beat against it. “No, you can't. You'll die. You're five hundred years old. You can't live without your powers.”

“It's my right. My choice.”

“Don't do this.” How many strikes of the clock had there been? “I'll go. I swear it.”

“There's no time now. My powers,” he said, lifting his arms. “My blood, my life. For hers.” Lightning spewed from the sky, struck like a comet between them. “For foolishness, for pride, for arrogance I abjure my gifts, my skills, my birthright. And for love I cast them away.”

His eyes met Kayleen's through the wind and light as the clock struck. “For love, I offer them freely. Let her forget, for there is no need for her to suffer.”

He fisted his hands, crossed his arms over his chest. Braced as the world went mad around him. “Now.”

And the clock struck twelve.

The world went still. Overhead the skies broke clear so the stars poured free. The trees stood as if carved out of the dark. The only sound was of Kayleen's weeping.

“Do I dream?” Flynn whispered. Cautious, he held out a hand, opened and closed his fist. Felt the movement of his own fingers.

The air began to stir, a soft, sweet breeze. An owl called.

“I am.” Flynn dropped to his knees beside Kayleen, with wonder in his eyes. “I am.”

“Flynn!” She threw her arms around him, dragging him
close, breathing him in. “You're real. You're alive.”

“I am restored.” He dropped his head on her shoulder. “I am freed. The Keepers.”