Otherworld Protector. Jane Godman
tight?” Her expression was incredulous. “You don’t seriously think this thing is going faster than we can walk, do you?”
Cal didn’t reply. Instead, he focused his attention on the connection his foot made with the cart’s pedal. Summoning all his supernatural energy—now was not the time to screw things up—he intoned slowly and forcefully, “Onettan. Swiftnes.” The machine lurched, its electrical engine whirring loudly. He exhaled a sigh of pure relief as it raced across the tiled floor, gathering speed as it went.
“Cal, did you just tell this thing to go fast?” The cart was practically flying now, its tires burning rubber as it hurtled toward the sidhes. Stella lurched against him in the confined space. “And—my God, I can’t believe I’m actually going to ask this—did it understand you?”
“No. It’s only working through me. If I take my foot off the pedal, it will go back to the way it was.” All around them, sidhes were diving out of the way of the speeding machine. “Once we’re through the doors, get ready to jump.”
The automatic doors opened as the luggage cart approached, and Cal had time to assimilate the surprised faces of several taxi drivers on the pavement as they charged through the gap and out into the open air.
“Now!” He dived off one side and saw Stella go the other way. The cart made a startled whirring noise and ground to a halt in the middle of the road, causing a minibus to swerve around it. Leaping to his feet, Cal grabbed Stella’s hand. “You okay?”
She nodded and they broke into a run. Cal decided that making for the train or bus station within the airport complex would be too dangerous. Better to get away from the area completely and find another way into the transport system.
The pavement sloped away from the airport building and they were close to a multistory parking ramp when the two sidhes disguised as police officers emerged from its entrance. Cal looked over his shoulder. If they turned back, the dozens of sidhes in the arrivals hall would be waiting for them.
He stopped. The sidhes were mere feet away. Twin smiles lit their fiery eyes. They took several steps closer.
Cal raised his hand. “Fýrwylm.”
Flames shot from his fingertips toward the sidhes, showering them with sparks. Their smiles disappeared and were replaced by wary looks.
“That the best you’ve got, galdre?” Although the sidhe licked his lips nervously, he took a step closer.
“No. He’s got me.” Stella placed her hand over Cal’s. “What do I need to do?”
“That’s my girl,” he murmured, grinning down at Stella. “Think with me. Match your thoughts to mine.”
He could see the concentration on her face. Her brow furrowed with the effort. Then he felt it. A surge of power, like a jolt of electricity, pulsed through Cal’s body. This time when he raised his hand, together with Stella’s, the bolt from his fingertips resembled a flamethrower. He had known she would be strong, but this was beyond even his expectations.
“Fýrwylm.” Stella repeated the word he had used, and the flames burned even brighter. Muttering, the sidhes shrank back. “What language am I speaking?”
“Anglo-Saxon, the oldest form of the English language.” Cal led her forward, clearing their way by spreading a circle of fire ahead of them.
“How do you say bastard?”
Cal started to laugh. “It was the same word then that it is now. Or you can say dóc, which means illegitimate mongrel.” He didn’t add that he’d been called that himself a time or two over the centuries. Usually by Moncoya.
“Okay. Fýrwylm, you sidhe bastards.”
There were shouts now from the airport building and the sound of sirens. The two sidhe police officers had disappeared.
“Time to go.” Cal urged Stella into a run again. There was no way he wanted to have to explain what was going on to a genuine police officer.
“Did I really just do that?” Stella held her hand in front of her face, studying it as she ran.
“You did.” He looked back to see police cars and fire engines converging on the multistory parking ramp.
“What else can I do?”
“Let’s get away from here to somewhere safe. Then I can show you.” He smiled down at her, catching her hand and pulling her through a hedge into a field. “Or maybe you can show me.”
Stella slumped into a seat in the café. Despite the fact that she had not eaten for—she frowned in an effort to concentrate—over twenty-four hours, the sight of the tea and muffin Cal placed in front of her caused her stomach to pitch and roll uncomfortably. And it wasn’t just the lack of food, of course. A night with no sleep and the need for a long, hot shower were also taking their toll. Oh, and the vicious, bloodthirsty faeries who were on her trail. Yep, that lot would destroy your appetite anytime.
“Eat it.” Cal’s voice was stern as she pushed the plate aside.
“Where are we again?” She hadn’t really taken much notice of the signs as, wearily, she’d followed him from the train after a five-and-a-half-hour journey.
“Carmarthen.” Stella regarded him blankly and he elaborated. “It’s in South Wales.”
“I know where it is. I just don’t understand why we’re here.” There was a rising note of unaccustomed fretfulness in her voice. Stella didn’t like it and decided to drown it with tea. The brew was strong and slightly too hot. Its effect was revivifying and she sat up straighter.
“It’s on our way.” The café was set in a side street adjacent to the station. It was the first place they had come across after leaving the train. It was quiet now and Stella couldn’t imagine that it would get much busier once lunchtime arrived in the next hour. Two elderly women lingered over tea and cake at a table near the window and a man in overalls was reading a newspaper and eating bacon and eggs. The proprietor, a sour-faced woman, who appeared to derive very little joy from her chosen business, was watching the news on a television set with the sound turned down.
“On our way. That’s really helpful, Cal. On our way to where exactly?” The tea had gone some way toward restoring her appetite and Stella bit into the muffin. Its sweetness jarred her teeth but she could almost feel it sending a boost of energy directly into her bloodstream.
“The only place where I know for sure I can keep you safe.”
“Cal, I really cannot get my head around this. If I am a necromancer—let alone the necromancer of Merlin’s prophecy—wouldn’t I have known about it before now?”
He took her hand and Stella was conscious of the muffin crumbs and stickiness adhering to her fingers. His eyes, those beautiful, strange eyes, were probing her face. Wanting something from her, but she wasn’t sure what. “Don’t you know it?”
She started to shake her head, then stopped. His expression caught her attention and snagged on something deep inside her subconscious. It was as if a domino knockdown had been set in motion inside her head. One tiny memory triggered another, until the whole series fell into place. “Oh, my God, Cal.”
His voice was infinitely gentle. “When you were four years old, not long after your parents died, you were placed with a family in Suffolk. Do you remember?”
“I’m starting to.” Don’t make me do this. The images, so long buried, were scrambling to the surface now with a vengeance.
“It wasn’t your fault, Stella. You just told them what you saw.” Cal ran his thumb back and forth over her hand.
Unshed tears burned her eyes. “Imagine