Justine shook her head. “Would that I could, but there are too many rough folks downstairs for my comfort. With James gone, someone needs to keep an eye on your bodies while your spirits are in the Otherworld.”
“Then you should go,” I protested, uncomfortable with the idea of being alone in the garden with Julian. “I can keep an eye on things.”
She looked at me for a moment. “When was the last time you crossed over?”
“Just over a week ago, the same night you were at All Hallows.”
“And how many people did you heal at the theater after the riot?”
The actual number slipped my mind. “A lot.”
Her mouth pursed in worry. “You’re going now because there’s no telling when we’ll have another opportunity. I’m no longer tied to the spring to renew my power, and only cross when I need time away from the human world.”
“But—”
“We need you at full strength, Selah, as much for yourself as for everyone else involved. Consider the consequences if one of us fell sick or were mortally wounded, and you lacked the adequate power to fuel your gift?”
Any further arguments died on my tongue. Under such a scenario, there would be no choice but to rob my soul to feed another. I had done that once before, and nearly died in the process.
Biting my lower lip, I took Julian’s hands. His skin felt cold and clammy, and he offered no response at the pressure of my fingers around his. I looked at Justine, panicked. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You’ll be fine, Selah. Just keep hold of his hands no matter what.”
I bobbed my head in a frantic nod and tightened my grip.
“We should be far enough away from London by now, but just in case, stay out of sight until you’re sure no one else is there. Cate knows I have the stone and that your power is low, so if you do get pulled through All Hallows, there’s a good possibility she’ll be waiting to pounce the moment you show yourself.”
Smoke stung my eyes. “What can she do to me?” I was a grown woman after all, and had every right to run away on a dangerous quest if I wanted to.
“I’m not sure exactly, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she knew a way to trap your spirit in the Otherworld long enough to reach Bristol to claim your body.”
Well, that would be a cheap trick indeed.
Julian groaned again, and Justine struggled to keep him aright.
“It’s time to go,” she said. “Recite the words, and then pray to God that the stone pulls you to Wales or Ireland.”
Anxiety thumped in my chest as habit moved my lips. Brigid Buadach, Buaid na fine, Siur Rig nime, Nar in duine, Eslind luige, Lethan breo. Riar na n-oiged, Oibel ecnai, Ingen Dubthaig, Duine uallach, Brigid buadach, Brigid buadach.
Twice more, I raced over the Gaelic words. The room began to waver in and out of view, and for the first time in my life, I dreaded what may be waiting on the other side.
Chapter Five
The Weight of a Soul
Darkness came first, so complete I didn’t know whether my eyes were opened or closed. Nothing moved. Silence flooded my ears. Distance lost its meaning, and for all I knew, we could have been standing in something the size of a cupboard. Or in the limitless regions that existed between the worlds. Even time seemed to stop. I flexed my fingers, realizing the feel of Julian’s hands was my last hold on reality, the one reason I knew I still existed beyond my own mind.
Where are we?
It had to be the pathway. And from what Justine said earlier, it must now be reaching out to either the nearest or the strongest sidhe.
Please not London... Please not London...
The darkness quivered. Even blind, I knew the space had just taken form, similar to a tunnel. Then a breath of air grabbed us, pulled us forward into what felt like a giant yawn. Light flashed, illuminating a stone altar. It looked familiar though somewhat hazy, and the usual rectangular lines stretched to strange proportions. I blinked again, and it was gone, vanishing just as quickly as it had first appeared.
The darkness returned, and Brigid’s fire ignited like a torch in my center. No longer bound by my physical body, my soul moved toward the Otherworld, drawn home to the place of its birth. I submitted, expecting at any moment to be enveloped in the garden’s protective mist, when my arms snapped taut as though tethered to an anchor. My grip faltered, and I scrabbled to keep a hold of Julian.
“Don’t let go!” Justine’s frantic voice echoed, thin and far away.
I squinted at the dim light that flickered deep inside Julian, just enough to give a shadowy outline to his form. His head hung forward. His bare feet dangled in midair. In truth, he looked no more than a specter, and a greatly diminished one at that.