“Yet you bleed.” He gestured toward her arm, her throat. “Is the pain a lie? Is your fear?” His smile spread as he came closer. “Youve been a challenging opponent. You have a clever mind and a strong will. Clever enough, strong enough to have changed some small pieces of my picture. Imagining the stairs and the door to this place took considerable strength. Bringing her here”—he gestured toward the cloaked figure—“even more. I commend you.”
Her mouth trembled open, then she shut it again. Had she imagined it, the route, the door? Had she willed the ghost into being?
No, no she didnt believe she had. Shed been circling in confusion.
Jordan. It was Jordans book. And he was a man with a clever mind and a strong will. Somehow he was trying to help her. Damned if she was going to let him fail.
She was Dana, she reminded herself. And she was Kate—Jordans Kate. Neither one of them would cower at the end.
“Maybe Ill just imagine you jumping off that wall to your bloody, messy death.”
“Still hissing. A cornered cat. Perhaps Ill simply leave you here, deep inside a book. You should thank me, as books are one of your pleasures.”
He inclined his head as she got to her feet, as he saw her wince of pain. “Or perhaps Ill step back and let the killer come onstage. It would be interesting to see you battle him, though in my version you may not triumph. Either way, it would be entertaining. Yes, I believe Id enjoy the theater of it.”
The white scarf vanished from his hands. “Do you remember how she hears him shambling up the steps, what she feels run through her when she understands that shes trapped?”
Danas breath began to hitch once more as she heard the slow, oncoming footsteps.
He couldnt force her to do anything, she remembered. He could only trick her mind. “How the fear clutched in her belly as she understood that she had run exactly where hed wanted her to run? And below, her lover sees her standing in the light of the moon, sees the
phantom beyond her, and the killer as he steps out onto the stone.
“And he calls her name, in terror and despair, as he knows he can never reach her in time.”
“Sure he can. All it takes is a rewrite.”
Kane whirled as Jordan leaped out of the doorway.
The force of the attack knocked Kane back against the wall.
“You have no place here!”
“This is my place.” Putting all his rage into it, Jordan rammed his fist into Kanes face. It burned as if hed shoved his hand into fire. Still, he reared back to do it again. And was lifted off his feet and flung backward.
“Die here, then.”
A sword shot up from the hand Kane raised. Dana sprang to her feet, and charged him, sprang onto his back to fight with teeth and nails and spitting fury. She heard someone howling, and realized as her throat opened again, that the sound came from her.
Kane knocked her away with a vicious backhand that sent her slamming hard against Jordan. She saw blood on his face, from wounds that both she and Jordan had inflicted.
And her heart danced.
“You will know pain,” she shot out at him.
His eyes gleamed black as he raised the sword. “And you, worse. Your blood will seal you here.”
But as he swung down to strike, his hand was empty.
“Lets see if gods fly,” Jordan said. Both he and Dana rushed forward.
Dana felt her shoving hands connect, then they passed through him as he vanished.
There was a swirl of smoke, a flash of dull blue light. Then nothing but the moon and shadows.
“Did I do that?” She had to wheeze out the words. “Or did you?”
“I dont know.” He caught her when her legs gave way, and lowered them both to the stone floor. “I dont care. Jesus, youre bruised and bleeding. But Ive got you.” He wrapped her tight in his arms. “Ive got you.”
“Ditto.” Undone, she buried her face against his chest. “How did you get here? He didnt bring you. He wasnt expecting you.”
“Hes not the only god in the Valley these days.” Lifting her head, he pressed his lips to her cheek, her temple. “Weve got to find our way back, Dana. I dont mind being sucked into a story, but this is a little much.”
“Im open to suggestions.” Hold on, she ordered herself. Hold on until its finished. “This is just about the end of the story. Heroine grapples with bad guy, and with a little help from the ghost— who was no help at all, by the way—fights him off, sends him over the wall just as the hero bursts out to save her. Kiss, kiss, frantic explanations and declarations of love. Then they watch the. phantom of the watch fade away, freed by her final act of humanity.”
“You remembered that pretty well for somebody who read it six years ago.” He helped her to her feet, then looked toward the end of the parapet. The cloaked figure stood, looking out at the forest.
“Shes not fading.”
“Maybe she needs a little more time.” When she put weight on her knee, the pain brought tears to her eyes. “Ouch! Damn. Maybe you could write in an ice pack for this knee.”
“Wait.” Fascinated, he stepped forward. “Rowena.”
“Her name wasnt Rowena. It was… I cant quite remember, but it wasnt—” She broke off, her eyes widening as the cloaked woman turned and smiled at her. “Except it is Rowena.”
“I couldnt send you alone. We wouldnt let him take your lives here. Will you finish your quest?” she asked Dana.
“I havent come this far to toss it in now. I was about to—” She cut herself off again. “Its not in the book, not anymore. Not on the white page with the black words. Its here now. In the story, like we are.”
“Ive already done more than Im permitted to do. I can only ask you: Will you finish your quest?”
“Yes, Ill finish it.”
She vanished, not with smoke and light as Kane had, but as if shed never been.
“What the hell do we do now?” Jordan asked. “Go back-somehow—to the beginning of the book and start looking? The lines you remembered were from the prologue.”
“No, we dont have to go back, I need a minute first.” She stepped to the wall, breathed deep. “Autumn smoke in the air,” she chanted. “The way the moon, a perfect ball, is carved into the sky. Everything—the trees, the valley… look, you can just see the river, the way the moonlight glints off the water at the bend of it. Its all here, every detail.”
“Yeah, nice view. Lets finish up and go look at it in our world.”
“I like your book, Jordan. I dont want to live here, but its a fascinating place to visit. Its exactly the way I pictured it. You write a hell of a story.”
“Dana, I cant do this. I cant stand thinking about the way youre lying there back home. Youre so pale, so cold. You look like—”
“Niniane, from Brads portrait. One walks.” She gestured to where Rowena had been. “One waits. That would beNiniane , or in reflection, I guess its me.” She turned, held out a hand. “I need the key, Jordan.”
He stared at her. “Honey, if I had the key,Idve given it to you long before this.”
“You always had it. You just didnt know it. Im the key, and youre mine. Write it for me, Jordan. Put it in my hand, and lets go home.”
“All right.” He tried to wrap his mind around it. Then he touched her face and let himself see. “She stood bathed in moonlight. Goddess and lover, with eyes deep and dark with truths. He might have been born loving her, he wasnt sure. But he knew, without question, that he would die loving her.”
“She smiled” he continued as Danas lips curved, “and held out her hand to him. It glittered in her palm, a small, simple thing. The key shed searched for, fought for. It was old, but bright with promise. A slim bar of gold topped with a swirl of connecting circles in a symbol as old as time.”
She felt the weight of it, and the shape against her palm. Closing her fist around it, she reached for him with her free hand. “Itll take us back,” she said, “for the epilogue.”