Magic's Muse Page 11

  Cathal smiled. Tomas had been so embarrassed when he’d figured out the phrase was merely a code. Christian teasing him about it hadn’t helped either. “No, it’s not. We wanted something that wouldn’t be guessed easily but was also a symbol for the changes we were fighting for.” Over time the dragon had also become the symbol for the leader of their movement. Once it had been Christian, but since his sentence it had fallen to Cathal to step up and fill the role. “The dragon was the logical choice.” He reluctantly tucked it away again.

  “I’ve seen that dragon somewhere before too,” Tomas realized, his brow furrowing in thought. “I know I have.”

  “In Hidden Places,” Cathal said softly. He’d known as soon as he’d seen the cover illustration for the book Tomas held so dear that it was connected to Alice in some way. “The dragon on the cover was this one. Alice loved it and often sketched it. She said that it had stories of its own to tell.”

  “Perhaps she was right.” Tomas had that look he got when he was working through ideas for a story he wanted to write, the color of his eyes brightening with each additional what if. “I haven’t finished Mark and Deimos’s story yet, Cat. I’ve been considering borrowing a little of what Wynne did by adding some reality to it, but disguising it so that it can’t do any harm.” Wynne had taken much of the book he’d written from the entries in his mother’s journal.

  “What kind of reality?” Cathal frowned. Giving away too much detail about Naearu would be dangerous and risked bringing the Falcons down on them. They weren’t ready to fight back, and the portal was not yet closed. Surely he didn’t mean to write about dragons as though they were real? “Dragons don’t exist in my world, Tomas. No one has ever seen them.”

  “That doesn’t mean they don’t exist, or that they couldn’t here.” Tomas laughed. It mellowed suddenly with his next statement. “God, I sound like Mikey. Kill me now.”

  “This isn’t the first time you’ve said that. I seem to recall another conversation about the definition of reality.” Cathal spoke in what he hoped was a reassuring tone, but couldn’t help the amusement that crept into his voice.

  “It’s not funny, Cat.” Tomas scowled. The expression only served to make him look like a petulant teenager. It was one he rarely used in front of Cathal, but he’d heard others speak of it. Mikey seemed to bring out the worst in Tomas and vice versa. Cathal suspected it was because he and the boy were of very similar temperaments, especially when their insecurities took center stage. That, however, was not something he would consider pointing out to either of them.

  “Of course it isn’t.” Cathal schooled his features into something more neutral. One day Mikey and Tomas would sort out their differences, but it was not about to happen anytime soon. For now, someone still needed to referee their conversations. He grinned suddenly when a thought struck him. Once this enchantment was broken, he should arrange to leave Christian with them for an afternoon. Hmm, maybe not, as it might mean coming home to bloodshed and the like.

  “Do you want to tell me what that grin was for?” Tomas looked at him suspiciously.

  “No.” Cathal cleared his throat. “I’m going to change the subject now.” Tomas raised an eyebrow. “I’m going to ignore that reaction too.”

  “Okay then,” Tomas said slowly, rolling his eyes. “Whatever you want, Lord Emerys.” He picked up the envelope still sitting on Cathal’s lap. Although he was agreeing to the change of subject, it was obvious this particular conversation would be continued later. “So, what’s this envelope for?” He turned it over. “It’s old too, but not as much. I’m guessing you wrote whatever’s inside and put it in the box with the dragon.”

  “Open it and find out.” There was nothing written on the front of it, as it wasn’t addressed to anyone in particular.

  “There’s something else in the envelope,” Tomas realized, noticing the indentation. “Whatever it is, it isn’t very big.” He opened the envelope carefully. “You’re lucky that you did hide this in the box. Otherwise the mice might have got to it.”

  “That’s what the cats are for.” There had always been cats in the house. It seemed to attract them for some reason, the strays often staying to become members of the family. Cathal sighed, wishing his mind hadn’t supplied that particular turn of phrase, considering what had happened.

  “Christian, AKA Blackthorn, doesn’t come up here, remember?” Tomas pulled out the sheets of paper the envelope held. A key fell out with them. “The previous cats didn’t do their job properly either. The damn mice ate through quite a few of Alice’s letters.”

  “Oh.” Cathal felt bad for his earlier comment. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

  Tomas shrugged. “It’s done, Cat, and hardly your fault.” He held up the key. “What’s this for?” He skimmed the papers quickly, moving onto the second page. “Cat? Am I reading this right?”

  “That depends what you think you’re reading.” Cathal couldn’t help but tease a little. He took the pages from Tomas. “It’s a letter addressed to the village bank. It and the key are meant to act as proof of identity.”

  “Yeah, I got that bit.” Tomas frowned. He snatched them back, reading some of the words aloud. “Further to our agreement, possession of this letter and key can be used as proof of identification that the holder of such is a descendant of either myself, Cathal Emerys, or my cousin, Christian Edmonds, and his wife, Alice Finlay Edmonds, and therefore entitled access to the accounts held by your establishment.”

  “That is what I remember writing, yes.” Cathal shifted so that he could read alongside Tomas, rather than taking it back. “I opened a bank account about a month before we left and deposited some funds into it. I’d worked for a few weeks on a neighboring farm when they needed some help. They insisted on paying me, although I said it wasn’t necessary. Her husband was away fighting the war, and her sons were too young to assist her.”

  “So it’s sat there all this time collecting interest?” Tomas read the rest of the letter. “This has had quite a bit of thought put into it.”

  “I had to be careful, as I didn’t know who would need to access the account. It could have been either of the three of us, or one of Alice and Christian’s descendants. I figured that setting it up this way, if the worst happened, I could always use it in the future and pretend to be my own descendant.” It was strange reading a document written so long ago yet penned in his own hand. He felt in a way as though he was looking at a ghost.

  “Not by one of your descendants?” Tomas had noticed the wording Cathal had used.

  “I knew that wouldn’t happen, Tomas. I wasn’t attracted to women, and I told myself I’d only marry or be with someone I loved.”

  “Do you regret that?” Tomas placed one finger over Cathal’s lips for a moment. “Knowing you wouldn’t have children?” A shadow crossed his face, a reminder of their earlier conversation about Deryn’s unborn child and the emphasis placed in his world on the importance of continuing bloodlines.

  “I did at first, but then I realized that love is a much stronger tie than blood.” Cathal chewed on his lip. Just because their mating would not bring about children it did not mean they could not raise one or more as their own. “Do you want children, Tomas?” It was something they hadn’t discussed.

  “I’ve never thought about it.” Tomas put down the letter. “Does that bother you?”

  “No.” Their conversations seemed to often twist and turn onto subjects neither of them had anticipated. “Our own relationship is still very new, love. We need to spend the time getting to know each other before considering starting a family.” Cathal caressed Tomas’s cheek. Tomas leaned into the touch and smiled. “If both of us want to do that one day, so be it, but if we don’t that’s all right too. It needs to be mutual or not at all, and I’m fine with that. I think we have enough going on with our lives now without that, don’t you?”

  Tomas seemed relieved at Cathal’s response. “Yeah, that’s exactly how I feel, but I want to give you what you need, Cat.”

  “You do, my love, you do.” He leaned in to kiss Tomas lightly, frowning when a thought occurred to him, a potential flaw in his original plan. “The village bank does still exist, doesn’t it? There is another copy of that letter in a box in their vault. That is what the key is for. They hold the duplicate of it, or at least the manager does. It was to be handed down to each new person who took on the position.”

  “They said they’d do that for you?” Tomas’s mouth opened in surprise. Apparently it was not something that was a common occurrence. “I don’t mean to sound cynical, but that’s stretching it a bit.”

  “Don’t you believe me?” Cathal’s eyes narrowed. He’d researched this thoroughly before going ahead with it, but couldn’t do anything about ensuring the bank would still exist in a future time. Natural disasters and wars had already shaken this world on several occasions. It had been an acceptable risk, considering it was the best choice open to him.

  “I’m not saying that.” Tomas sighed. “I trust you to tell me the truth, Cat, but this was a long time ago. Why would some stranger go to all this trouble to set something up that was so involved?”

  There was still such a lot Tomas didn’t know, not just about Cathal’s world but events that had taken place in his own. “He owed me a debt, and he was a man of honor.” Cathal shivered, not wanting to remember the details of that day. They’d been lucky, all of them. Another few moments and the death toll would have risen to include not just those they’d barely managed to save but also his own. “There was a fire, Tomas. The library and several other buildings burnt to the ground. I saved his daughter’s life.”

  “Oh God.” There was no mistaking Tomas’s fear. “What happened? Was that the one you mentioned before? I knew
the library had been rebuilt, but I didn’t know why.”

  “It was a long time ago, love.” Nevertheless, Cathal edged closer to Tomas. That night would forever be etched into his memory. He’d felt the terror of the people who had been trapped inside. It was one of the few times before he’d mated with Tomas, when both parts of his ability had nearly overwhelmed him.

  “I saw you shiver.” Tomas drew Cathal into an embrace. “It doesn’t matter how long ago it was. It was something I doubt you’re ever going to forget.”

  “I won’t.” Cathal cuddled closer, glad of Tomas’s presence. “We saw the flames from here, grabbed the horses, and rode into town. We had to do something, to hell with hiding and keeping to ourselves. By the time we got there, they’d got most of the people out, but there were still a few trapped inside. They couldn’t find them.” The sky was lit brightly with flames and heat, although it was close to dusk. People were screaming, crying. A mother pleaded for her child, still missing.

  “You used your ability to figure out where they were.”

  Cathal nodded, remembering. He and Christian had gone into what was left of the library, searching for a pair of missing children. The boy was the postmaster’s son, the girl, the daughter of the manager of the local bank. “Yes.” Christian had grounded Cathal, much in the same way Tomas did now, using his own power when the way before them was blocked. Christian’s ability was much stronger that day than Cathal had ever seen it before or since. “The children were hiding in a corner, too scared to venture past the flames. They were so young.” He shuddered, for a moment back in the memory.

  Fire, smoke, and fear. God, he’d almost been paralyzed by the fear, not just his own but of the children and their parents, terrified and helpless. He’d run to the children without thinking, gathered them in his arms, looked up to see the beam falling. If it hadn’t been for Christian giving them those few seconds….

  “They built themselves a tower of books to keep themselves safe, but they might as well have constructed a tomb. Paper burns so easily, and they were surrounded by so much of it. If we hadn’t found them when we did….” His voice broke; he was shaking. The fear in those children’s eyes, the hope when they’d seen him quickly turning to horror when they’d thought they were all going to die. They’d been too scared to speak or to cry. The little girl had buried her head on Cathal’s shoulder and clung to him. The boy’s lip quivered as he tried desperately to be brave.

  “Ssh, Cat, it’s okay. It was a long time ago. You’re safe now and so are they.” Tomas kissed Cathal’s forehead. “I’m sorry I asked. I didn’t want you to relive that again. It must have been horrific.”

  “We barely got out of the building. It was collapsing around us.” He wrapped his arms around Tomas, holding onto him tightly, trying desperately to calm. The echoes of emotion, shadows of that day long ago felt so real, pulling him in, overwhelming. He was drowning in a black hole of fear and despair, just as he had that first time. He reached, searching for the anchor he needed. Christian had given him that then just as Tomas was now.

  Just a memory, nothing more. Cathal took several deep breaths, relaxing against Tomas, focusing on the man he loved, here and now. Those memories were the past, of a time long ago. Years ago, even for him, more so for the people of this village. “Mrs. O’Neil talked about a service we’d done. That must have been what she was referring to. It’s the only thing I can think of. No one knew we were there before that. But afterwards….”

  “That was when everything changed, wasn’t it?” Tomas stroked Cathal’s hair, pulling his betrothed onto his lap. Cathal nodded, not ready to speak again. He’d been scared, so had Christian, but they hadn’t let themselves give in to their own emotions, not until later. Cathal had held on until he’d been alone, not wanting to add his own struggles to his cousin’s or encroach on his and Alice’s private time together.

  He rested his head on Tomas’s shoulder, letting Tomas hold him close. God, he’d needed this then. “I love you,” he murmured.

  “I love you too, Cat,” Tomas whispered. He was quiet for a moment. “I’m thinking that sometimes, however hard it is, that instead of hiding ourselves, in order to move forward we have to reach out to others.”

  “I know that,” Cathal said, a little more stiffly than he’d intended. They could have had a future in this place, if the Falcons hadn’t come. After the fire, the villagers had begun to open their hearts a little, to them and to Alice. But it wasn’t for long enough, and it was too late. He’d thought they’d done the right thing in hiding, and they’d wasted so much time in doing so. And yet when he’d met Tomas, he’d kept those secrets all over again.

  “I’m not trying to be condescending, love.” Tomas bit his lip, his fingers stilling in Cathal’s hair. “Fuck it. I’m not good at this stuff at all, am I? I’m comparing what you went through and thinking about myself. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

  “You haven’t done anything wrong, Tomas. We’ve both acted in ways that we regret. The journey through life is one long lesson, especially if we’re a little stubborn in our determination to ignore what is shown to us.” Cathal smiled for a moment as he repeated the words he’d heard so many times. “My mother taught all of us that at her knee, and then despaired of us ever taking notice of it.” There had been some amusement in that proclamation, his mother’s mouth turning up into a smile of her own.

  “All of us?” Tomas frowned. “I thought there was only you and Irene.”

  “I have two younger brothers, Faolan and Kane. They are ten years younger.” Cathal chuckled. “A blessing, my father says, blissfully ignoring all the trouble they’ve got into, two minds being able to find much more mischief than one, apparently.”

  “They’re close in age?” Tomas kissed Cathal lightly, releasing his embrace somewhat but apparently not in a hurry for Cathal to move.

  “You could say that.” Cathal was happy for the opening for their conversation to shift onto something else. “They’re twins. So are my mother and Christian’s.”

  “You miss them.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “Yes, but with the difference in time between our worlds, even if I could move as freely between them as I wished, it would not work. Eventually I would still have to choose.”

  “I wish you didn’t have to.” Tomas frowned, his head turning toward the window. “Did you hear that?”

  “No.” Cathal focused, listening carefully with both senses. He disentangled himself from Tomas and stood. “There is something there.” It felt odd, though, very faint. “Not human, as that would be stronger.” They were on the top floor. “What kind of animal would be up this high?” He walked over to the window and peered out, Tomas close behind him.

  A whisper of gray darted back and around the narrow part of the roof, then was gone again. “Whatever it is, it has fur.” Tomas pushed up the window further to get a better look. He pulled himself up so that he was sitting on the windowsill, one leg out the window.

  “A cat, perhaps?” Cathal suggested. He joined Tomas on the windowsill.

  A pitiful meow, although it could be better described as a squeak, filled the air, followed by a frantic scrabbling of claws. Cathal slid farther out the window, so that one foot was resting on the roof, and focused on the direction of the noise. Without the window frame obstructing his view, it was easier to look around for the culprit. Farther down the roof, on the overhanging part near the drainpipe, sat a tiny gray tabby kitten, growing more distressed by the moment. “I think it’s stuck,” he decided, when the cat’s meows became louder.

  “It probably jumped out there when it saw us and then couldn’t figure out how to get back.” Tomas studied the kitten. “We can’t leave it up there. I’ll go find a ladder.”

  “A ladder won’t reach that part of the roof.” Cathal squinted, working out the distance between the kitten, where they were, and the ground. He slid his other leg out of the window, finding his balance while he still had his back against the outside of the attic wall.

  “Cat?” Tomas tried to grab Cathal’s arm to bring him back inside, but Cathal took another step farther out onto the roof, just out of reach. “You can’t go out there. It’s dangerous.”