“Come home,” Michael thickly demanded. “Now, son.”
The colors stopped and hovered and suddenly wrapped everyone up in a fierce embrace of elation.
“God’s teeth!” Michael shouted, his words echoing through the brightness. “Come home!”
Libby slowly inched toward Robbie’s faintly beating pulse and gently tickled his heart.
The organ shuddered, thumped twice, then started to beat with the strength of a lion.
The blinding light softly faded to a gentle blue glow. Libby opened her eyes to see a flurry of white feathers wafting down through the night. She looked at her jacket on the ground, but Mary was gone.
“I’m powerful hungry, Papa.”
Libby turned her gaze to Robbie, who was looking at Michael.
“And so is Rose,” the boy said. He suddenly grinned at Libby. “It’s after midnight,” he told her. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas!” Libby cried, pulling him to her as she sobbed in relief.
Michael wrapped trembling arms around them, whispering his own Christmas blessing.
Rose squeaked in protest and wiggled to get free. Libby pulled back, wiped the tears off her face, and stood up with Rose in her arms.
The infant shot her a lopsided smile and then reached out her short little arms toward Robbie. Robbie started to take her, but it seemed that Michael was not done hugging him yet. So the boy turned his attention to his father and hugged him back.
“I knew ya would come for me, Papa,” Libby heard Robbie say. “And I held on until ya did.”
“Aye,” Michael breathed, his eyes closed against his own emotional storm as he held Robbie close. “Ya did good, son.
Libby picked up her jacket and tented it over Rose, who was now sucking her thumb, then turned at the sound of an engine approaching. Headlights appeared over the top of the ridge, and a double-tracked machine wove through the forest and came to a halt beside them.
Doors opened, and Greylen and Ian climbed out. Ian helped Daar down over the wide track and held his arm as they came over to Libby and Michael.
“You found them,” Greylen said, walking up to Michael, touching Robbie to see for himself that the boy was okay. He slapped Michael on the back. “He seems to be hale and hearty.”
“Aye,” Michael said, nodding, still not putting his son down.
“And Rose?” Greylen asked, turning to Libby.
Libby pulled back her coat to reveal the infant. “She’s hale and hearty, too,” she told Grey. “And hungry.”
“Did ya save me some cheesecake?” Robbie asked, trying to see past his father’s fierce embrace. “I—I guess we missed the party.”
“You didn’t,” Libby told him. “We postponed it until tomorrow—I mean, today—at noon.”
The boy’s eyes rounded. “Noon?” he echoed, turning to look at his father. He leaned in and whispered something to Michael, Michael nodded, and Robbie looked back at Libby, his face lit with a smug smile. “I told ya Christmas was full of surprises.”
Libby couldn’t have responded if she’d wanted to.
“We’re gonna miss Santa, people, if we don’t start making our way back,” Ian interjected, turning up the collar on his coat and shoving his bare hands into his pockets.
“And we still gotta find Dwayne and let him know his daughter is okay.”
Libby followed Michael when he walked to the snowcat and placed Robbie in the backseat. He took Rose out of her arms and handed the child to his son. But before Michael turned back to Libby, he lingered long enough to run a hand over Robbie’s head, cupping his chin and lifting his face to his.
“Ian will drive ya home,” he told him. “And Libby will stay with ya until I get there.
Give John a big hug when ya see him,” he instructed. “He’s been worried sick about ya.”
Michael leaned in closer, and Libby edged forward to hear what he was saying. “Ya did good, son,” he told him roughly, gently running a finger over Rose’s plump cheek. “You were Rose’s guardian angel tonight.”
Robbie blinked up at him. “It was my duty, Papa.”
“Aye,” Michael agreed, patting Robbie on the shoulder.
Michael turned to Libby, and she threw herself into his arms. “Come back with us,” she pleaded, holding him tightly. “I don’t want us to be separated right now.”
“There’s no room, lass,” he whispered into her hair. “Ian will take ya home, and Grey and I will get my truck and go find Dwayne. We’ll be at the house in no time.” He kissed her upturned face and gave her a reassuring smile. “Feed my son and Rose, give them warm baths, and see if ya can’t talk Robbie into getting some sleep.”
His orders given, he lifted her up and settled her in the backseat beside Robbie. He leaned inside, gave her a quick kiss, and then turned to the men. “Where’s Daar?” he asked.
Ian and Greylen looked around in the beam of the headlights, and Libby also craned her neck to find Father Daar.
But he was nowhere to be seen.
Libby gasped and reached out to Michael. “The staff,” she hissed softly. “Where is it?”
He whipped his head around and stared at the spot where Robbie and Rose had been.
After only a quick look back at her, he walked over and started scuffing the snow-covered ground, looking for the staff.
“Now, where in hell did he go?” Ian muttered as he walked to the other side of the snowcat, looking for Daar.
Libby climbed out and started helping Michael look for the staff. Greylen came over and stared at them quizzically.
“What have you lost?” he asked.
Michael stopped and faced Grey. “Daar’s staff.”
“His cane?” Greylen lifted one brow.
“Nay. His old staff. The one ya threw in the high mountain pond nine years ago.”
Libby took a step back when Greylen’s face suddenly changed from inquiry to a look of dangerous anger. The man pulled himself up to his full height and took a step toward Michael.
“Are you saying thatdrùidh’s staff still exists?”
“Aye,” Michael confirmed. “It seems it shot free of the waterfall just before Morgan blew up Fraser Mountain.”
“And how did it end up here?” Greylen asked, waving a hand at the ground where Michael and Libby had been looking.
“Robbie’s pet owl brought it to Libby. But I took it and hid it.”
“And?” Greylen asked gutturally.
“And we needed it tonight to save my son’s life.”
Greylen looked from Michael to Libby, then back at Michael. “And now Daar and the staff are missing,” he said, not as a question but a statement.
Michael nodded, and both men looked off toward TarStone, in the direction of Daar’s cabin, their faces drawn pale and their fists clenched at their sides. Libby also looked, as did Ian, who had come to stand beside her and listen to the conversation.
There was a sudden detonation halfway up the mountain, and the sky over TarStone lit up like the Fourth of July.
Michael reached out and pulled Libby into a protective embrace as they all watched colorful bolts of lightning sizzle over the summit. There was another powerful blast that shook the ground under their feet, trembling the trees with enough force to dislodge the snow from their branches.
Ian started cursing under his breath.
Michael tightened his hold on Libby.
And Greylen MacKeage started laughing.
“There,” he said when they all looked at him in surprise. He pointed halfway up the mountain, at the smoke rising into the still crackling sky. “I’m betting it’s Daar’s cabin that just blew up. The crazy old fool has been so long without the magic, he’s blown his cabin to hell.”
“And himself, I hope,” Ian interjected.
Libby gasped.
Michael tightened his hold on her, cutting off her words of concern before she could voice them. He turned her around and led her back to the snowcat. Robbie was standing on the track, Rose clutched to his chest, gawking at TarStone.