Moonshadow (Moonshadow #1)

Braiding a long strand of Sophie’s hair, the monkey nodded.

“Good.”

“There’s a shed behind the cottage with a riding lawn mower, wheelbarrow, gardening tools, and an axe,” Gawain told them. “I’m going to start tackling that firewood issue.”

“There’s gardening tools and a lawn mower,” Sophie breathed as Gawain strode out. “I never thought to walk all the way around the cottage.”

After Gawain had left, the puck slipped off Sophie’s lap to go to the kitchen counter, wrap his arms around the cake box, and leap to the floor again. He tottered toward the sitting room.

That left Nikolas and Sophie alone. He still knelt by her side, and instead of rising to his feet, he took one of her hands in his.

She shifted to face him. “You wanted me to do a reading when I got back. What is it you want to find out?”

“I don’t know that it’s relevant any longer.” Absently he rubbed her fingers against his lips. He only grew aware of what he was doing when her hand tightened on his, and she pulled her hand down. But she didn’t try to release his fingers. Instead, she held his hand in her lap. He said telepathically, I still want to try to find out more about the Hounds that attacked me, if I can—whose magic was in play, besides yours. Someone called the fog in. Robin’s a nature sprite. He could have done it. But now I believe he would have been forced.

Could that be the reason Isabeau wants her “pet” back so much? she asked.

Maybe. He looked at her broodingly. I’d also like to know how they knew how to find me. I’ve run through everything multiple times, and I don’t see how I made a mistake, or left a trail, so it bothers me.

No, you wouldn’t have made a mistake like that. She gave him a lopsided smile. You’re too careful. Aloud, she said, “For what it’s worth, it wouldn’t take long to cast the runes for a reading.”

He nodded. “Let’s do it. The men won’t show up before nightfall anyway. After you’re through, we can pack everything that needs to be moved into the great hall.”

“I’m going to start a load of laundry, then I’ll get my runes.” Squeezing his fingers, she let go of his hand and stood. “If we’re going to get caught in a siege, I can at least start out with clean clothes.”

Nikolas rose as well and watched her leave. Then he walked back to his glass of brandy to take another hefty swallow. He held it in his mouth for a moment, focusing on the subtle, warming flavor. For good or for ill, they were throwing everything they had at this venture. Everything they had on Sophie’s abilities.

As she stepped back into the kitchen, he turned. She carried a small bundle of richly colored cloth, which she set on the table while she took a seat. He joined her at the table, sitting opposite her and watching with fascination as she unfolded a dark blue, embroidered cloth. Magic unfurled in the air.

Holding his hand over the cloth to savor the cool sensation of magic, he said, “You did this. You made this.”

“Yes.” She looked surprised. “How can you tell?”

“It feels like you.”

A tinge of color touched her cheeks. “Is that a good thing?”

“It’s a very good thing,” he murmured, watching her. That tinge of color was for him, only this time it wasn’t from distress or anger. Surprised by how good that knowledge felt, he pressed for more. “It’s one of the best things I’ve felt in a long time.”

The pink in her cheeks turned brighter while the expression in her eyes grew vulnerable again. She asked, “What are you doing now?”

Wanting to feel the real thing, not just her Power, he reached out to stroke the petal-soft skin of her cheek. “I want you to trust me,” he said steadily. “I’m going to ask you to believe that I walked away last night for good reasons, and none of those reasons had anything to do with you. None of them had anything to do with how much I wanted to stay with you. We can talk more about it later, but for now, can you trust me that much?”

Her breath came out of her on a gentle, unsteady sigh. After compressing her lips together for a brief moment, she nodded. “Okay. I do trust you that much.”

“Thank you, my Sophie,” he whispered.

Her attention fell to the pouch she held. Opening it, she shook a pile of polished stones into one palm. They were pretty, rose quartz with gold runes engraved into them. Her eyes went unfocused. “I’m trying to figure out how to phrase the issue. You want answers about what happened.”

“I guess the key is not so much to find out if I made a mistake.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “The key is to make sure that whatever it was doesn’t happen again. That’s why I haven’t been able to let it go. Maybe it was a mistake I made. Maybe they have an ability to track us that we don’t know about. If Robin created the fog, I can let that go, but maybe the person responsible for the fog wasn’t Robin. Maybe that person was the same someone who also found me.”

As she listened, she nodded. “So the question becomes, what are the vulnerabilities we have that we do not know?” Her glance darted sidelong at him, as quick as a silverfish, and then away again. She added, “Regarding this conflict. Would that be correct?”

“Yes.” He sat back and folded his arms. “That’s the essence of the issue.”

“All right. I can use that. Now I need for you to be quiet and let me work. Don’t ask questions until I’m done.”

As he watched, she held the stones cupped in both hands for a long moment while her features settled into an expression of concentration. Then she tossed the rune stones gently onto the cloth.

This was what she had done when she had received the vision of him and when he had connected to the image of her. He watched her closely, fascinated by every small, minute shift in her expression. Her attention focused on things he couldn’t see.

As he watched, her skin darkened. Her mouth opened as if she would speak, but no sound came out. She placed a hand to her throat, and that was when he realized she wasn’t breathing.

“Sophie,” he said. His heart pounded.

When she didn’t respond, he stood so fast it shot his chair back against the wall. He shoved the table aside, sending cloth and stones flying, picked her up, and laid her quickly on her back, on the floor.

She still isn’t breathing.

Panic fired along all his nerve endings. Gently he parted her lips and ran his forefinger through her mouth to make sure there weren’t any obstructions. He hadn’t seen her put anything in her mouth, but he had to make sure. Then he sealed her lips with his and blew air into her lungs. Then again. And again.

“Come on,” he rasped in between breaths. What do you say when your world has stopped? “What the fuck is the matter with you, Sophie, come on.”

After giving her three breaths, he felt for a pulse. Part of him couldn’t believe he was doing this. She had been fine. She had just been fine.