B00CGOH3US EBOK Page 6

  No city lights glowed in the distance. No headlights passed by on a road below. No beacon blinked atop a cell tower warning planes not to fly too close. Just the unending darkness of an empty, desolate landscape, devoid of even a twinkle of electric-powered light from the twenty-first century.

  Somehow—though logic and common sense dictated otherwise—she had traveled back in time. To the freakin' Middle Ages of all places! How was that even possible?

  She glanced to where Baelin's steely fingers still circled her arm. "You can let go now. I'm not going anywhere."

  "'Tis dangerous." His grip relaxed, but he did not release her. "I do not wish you to…fall."

  "I'm fine. Obviously, there's nowhere for me to go." She stared into his dark eyes as he squatted beside her, his shadowed face only inches from her own and way too close for her peace of mind. "What do think I'm going to do? Jump?"

  "It has happened before."

  "What?" She wasn't sure she'd heard him correctly.

  "One of the maids…" He glanced away, a muscle twitching in his jaw. "She preferred death to remaining here with me."

  Jill peered over the ledge into the dark nothingness far below. Her stomach flipped just imagining such a fall. "You mean she…?"

  "Aye. I was not swift enough to stop her." He turned his attention back to her. "Since then I have become much more vigilant in guarding my…guests."

  She tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. There was more than concern for her safety in his eyes. They revealed a hurt that ran soul deep at having someone kill themselves rather than stay with him.

  "Well, you don't have to worry about me. I kind of like the idea of staying alive."

  Those dark eyes bored into hers, searching for something. Pity? Compassion? Understanding? Long moments passed and then finally, with obvious reluctance, he released her and stood. But he did not move far from her side.

  Able to breathe once again, Jill hugged her knees tight to her chest. She couldn't let herself feel sorry for the guy. He might be just as demented as those crazy villagers were. For all she knew, he'd tossed the girl off the ledge himself.

  But somehow, she knew he was telling the truth. Jill groaned, confused and upset by the conflicting thoughts ping-ponging back and forth in her mind.

  "Are you still unwell?" Baelin asked softly behind her.

  "Oh, I'm just peachy. When I woke up this morning, it was the twenty-first century and my biggest problem was finding a birthday present for my niece. In the past twenty-four hours, I've somehow been teleported back to the Dark Ages, experienced the strip search from hell, been hog-tied to a stake, and sacrificed to a fire breathing dragon. Can it get any better?"

  Jill dropped her head on her raised knees, wanting desperately to cry but not having the energy to do so. None of this was making any sense and yet how else could she explain everything that had happened.

  "Forgive me, my lady, but did you say you are from the twenty-first century?"

  She sighed heavily, trapping her warm, moist air breath in the folds of her gown. "I was this morning."

  "'Tis not possible. To say you are from the future…'tis madness you speak of."

  Her head snapped up and she gaped at his disbelieving face. He thought she was the crazy one?

  Jill stood, not liking the way he looked down at her, as if she was some loony mental patient. Now that she was starting to accept the possibility of what happened to her, she was mad. Angry mad. Someone was responsible for this mess and since the lizard king was the only one nearby, he got the bulk of the blame.

  "You don't believe me? This from a man who tells me the queen of bitchy witches put a curse on him? The same person who flew me around in the air as a dragon belching fire though his nose and then morphed into a naked man in front me? Please, tell me exactly what makes my story any more unbelievable than yours, hmmm?"

  She tapped her foot, waiting for his answer. He didn't say a word in his defense but uncertainty clouded his eyes.

  "Let me see that." She reached for the tapestry, but Baelin pulled back, shielding it as if it were his child instead of a frayed piece of fabric. "Take it easy, I'm not going to hurt it. I just want to look at it."

  "I never allow others to touch it."

  "Oh, for Heaven's sake, I'll give it right back." When he continued to hesitate, Jill huffed and held up her little finger. "Pinky swear."

  Well, that certainly brought a confused look to his handsome face. Guess that wasn't a common saying in the thirteenth century. "Please?"

  Baelin finally handed the tapestry to her, though the rigid set of his body told her he'd rather do otherwise.

  She carried it back near the firelight so she could examine it more closely. She studied the intricate detail of the weaving, so very familiar to her even though she'd only had a few moments to examine it in the shop. She didn't know how, but deep down in her soul she knew that somehow this tapestry had brought her here.

  Jill closed her eyes and hugged the cloth to her chest, wishing with all her heart it would send her back where she came from. She even clicked her heels together three times and chanted "There's no place like home" for good measure. But when she opened her eyes, she was still in the cave with the king of the dragon people staring back at her as if she'd sprouted horns.

  She plopped down on the pile of furs, feeling so lost and alone, terrified she was losing her mind. Baelin sat near her, his intense gaze locked on her face.

  "You have seen this tapestry, in your time?"

  She cocked a brow at him. Did he believe her now? Maybe. Or maybe he was humoring the crazy lady who sees fire-breathing dragons and babbles about time-travel. At this point, she didn't care what he thought of her. She just wanted to go home.

  "When did you last see it?" he persisted.

  "Today."

  "'Tis not possible. It was with me, here in the cave, as it has been for 216 years."

  "Stop telling me what is possible or not. I know without a doubt that I saw this in a vintage clothing shop in Carytown this morning. And judging by the ratty look of it, it'd been there for quite a while."

  She watched as Baelin turned his attention to the fire, confusion creasing his brow. "But how can that be?"

  "I don't know. None of this makes sense. All I can tell you is that, um, twelve, carry the one…" Damn, she sucked at math in her head. "Eight hundred and some years from now, this tapestry is for sale in a shop in Richmond, Virginia."

  "You are certain it was the same one?"

  "Positive. I mean, it wasn't in as good a condition as it is now, but it had the same dragon, the same knight, the same girl with long, blonde hair."

  Baelin shook his head. "But you are mistaken. The maiden in the tapestry does not have yellow hair. She never has."

  "What are you talking about? Of course she does." She held the tapestry up to the firelight to show him. "Look right here…"

  Jill felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water on her.

  There was a girl in the weaving, just like there'd been in the little shop. Only the image had changed. Her hair was now shorter, wavy and light brown in color.

  "I don't understand. That's not right." Jill shook her head and examined the tapestry again, trying to recall the details. "Everything's the same except the girl. She had blonde hair. I remember it fell from her shoulders all the way down to her knees. Of course, the last time I saw this thing, it was unraveling along the edges. The girl even has a face now, which she didn't have before."

  Baelin snatched the tapestry back and his tan skin paled in the glow of the firelight.

  "'Tis not possible. I have guarded this tapestry for over two centuries and in all that time the weave of the maid has never been complete, never shown her likeness." He paused, his voice raspy and low. "Until now. Now, the maiden has a face."

  He turned his full attention on her. "And she looks like you."

  As the first rays of dawn broke outside the cave, Baelin watched the woman sleep,
curled deep in the furs. At least he thought she slept now. She'd fainted when faced with her own image in the tapestry and not woken since. He could hardly fault her for it. He'd nearly swooned himself when he saw how the weaving had changed.

  He rubbed his thumb over the woven face of the maid and tried to calm the racing of his dragon heart. In over two centuries, the image of the maiden had never been complete and now it was. Was it a sign? Could this strange woman lying near him possibly be the one to break the curse? After so long, he was afraid to hope.

  And her story of how she came from the future still confounded him. How was it possible? She said that where she came from, people did not believe in dragons and yet he himself was proof they existed.

  Perhaps in her world without dragons, people could travel through time.

  Lady Jill stirred and mumbled something about a mannequin and not wanting any tea. She jolted up, glancing around the cave with wild, startled eyes before they came to rest on him.

  "Damn. I'm still here."

  Baelin winced at her disappointment. "Good morn, my lady."

  "If you say so." She dragged a hand through her tousled locks. "It would be a better one if I was waking up in my own bed. In my own apartment. In my own time."

  She stood and stretched, the movement pulling the gown tight across her full breasts. Baelin's own breeches grew uncomfortably snug and he quickly looked away.

  This maid the villagers had chosen for him was a bit…healthier than the ones who had come before. The gowns he kept for them fit her tighter, outlining every curve of her body—a body he recalled seeing all too much of as she'd stood wet and naked in the firelight.

  She rubbed her arms to chase away the constant chill he had grown accustomed to over the years. He almost laughed. At the moment, icicles could be hanging from the cavern's ceiling and he would still think it too hot with her so near.

  As she walked to the mouth of the cave, he had to restrain himself from jumping up to snatch her back as he'd done the night before. If they were going to get on together until the next full moon, he must learn to trust her. After all, she wasn't like the one who chose to take her own life rather than suffer his presence. Come to think of it, Lady Jill wasn't like any of the others with her strange manner of speech and odd ways.

  His tension eased when she stopped at the opening and made no move to venture further out onto the ledge. Instead, she leaned her shoulder against the rock wall with a heavy sigh.

  "Looks like there's nothing out there in the light of day either."

  "What is it you search for?"

  "Oh, I don't know. A car. A plane. A twenty-story skyscraper. Any hint the modern world might still be out there somewhere."

  Baelin went to retrieve some food, hoping it would make her feel more at ease in her newfound surroundings. "Are you hungry? I obtained fresh supplies from the village in the valley while you slept. There is bread, and—"

  "There's a village nearby?" She craned her head to peer once more out the entrance. "Where?"

  "'Tis not far." He stood still, the knife in his hand poised over the wedge of cheese he was about to slice. "Do you wish to go there?"

  His back to her, he stared at the platter before him, waiting for the inevitable plea sure to come. Instead, he heard her snort or chuckle—he wasn't sure which.

  "Not if it's anything like the last village I ended up in. After the rude welcome wagon greeting I received there, it would suit me just fine to avoid a place like that again."

  Surprised and a bit confused by her easy acquiescence after her tirade the night before, he resumed the preparation of her meal. All the maids before were always eager to return to their homes. They begged, pleaded, and cried for days for him to release them. This one seemed content, at least for the moment, to stay.

  Baelin heard her shift at the cave's entrance and glanced over to find her scrutinizing him with narrowed eyes.

  "Wait a minute. When I got here, the people treated me like I was an alien from another planet and offered me up to the local dragon on a silver platter. How did you manage to walk around a village unnoticed with giant bat wings sticking out of your back?"

  He relaxed. This was a question he could answer. "'Tis simple. Allow me to show you."

  He retrieved the cloak he'd tossed aside earlier. Folding his wings, he swept the heavy garment over his shoulders and clasped it in place at his throat.

  Astonishment registered on her face, but his own shock surpassed it when she walked up to him and ran her hand down the dark wool from shoulder to hip. He held himself perfectly still, straining to feel the slight touch through thick folds of cloak and layers of clothing. Perhaps he felt it. Perhaps he only imagined it. Either way, it was bliss to know another's touch after all this time. As he watched her expressive face, he realized she had no idea of her effect on him.

  "Wow. They fold flat against your back, just like a bird's. And with your cape dyed the same color as your wings, they practically disappear underneath it. I can hardly tell they're there. Great illusion. David Copperfield would definitely be impressed."

  Baelin knew a moment's pride that she—and whoever this David of Copperfield might be—approved. All too soon, her attention was drawn away from him and to the food he'd arranged on the platter nearby.

  "Oh, thank God. I'm so hungry, it feels like my stomach is touching my spine."

  "Then by all means, my lady, break your fast."

  She snatched a small loaf of dark bread and took a bite, closing her eyes as she moaned. His gaze caressed the delicate line of her throat as she chewed, following the curve of her neckline to where the tempting swell of her breasts threatened to spill out of the snug gown. Baelin stifled a groan, his mouth watering from an all too different type of hunger.

  Her eyes flew open, startling him. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want some?" She held out the bread to him.

  "Nay. I broke my fast earlier while you slept." He coughed into his fist and backed away, lest the dragon in him grab her and attempt to sample more than she what offered. "I am pleased the bread is to your liking."

  "It's a little grainy, but good. Of course, as hungry as I am, it could be made of sawdust and I'd still think it tasted like a buttery croissant."

  She picked up the platter of food and walked over to sit by the dying fire. She broke off a piece of the cheese and was about to pop it into her mouth when she stopped and turned those large, inquisitive eyes on him again.

  "So, are you going to clue me in on the specifics of this curse thing and exactly what it has to do with me or not?"

  CHAPTER 6

  How much do I tell her?

  Baelin didn't want to make the mistake of frightening her, as he had done with the others. If he'd learned one thing in all his years of taking the sacrificial maidens, it was that women's sensibilities were delicate. It was probably best not to overwhelm her with too much at first.

  He walked over and joined her by the dwindling fire. "As a young knight, I was cursed by the Dark Witch to live as a dragon eleven months out of each year."

  "Right. I remember that much."

  "The curse also requires that each year, on the day of the first full moon of summer, a maiden from the village be offered as a sacrifice to the dragon."

  Lady Jill held up her thumb and forefinger, leaving a tiny gap in between them. "Um, we might already have a teensy, weensy problem there."

  "What is it?"

  "I'm not actually from the village."

  "What?" Baelin stood as he felt the first flames of anger churn in his belly.

  "Yep. Sorry, but it looks like they pulled the old bait-and-switch with you, buddy."

  "I do not understand."

  "Like I told you last night, I'm not from around here. I'm not even from this century." Lady Jill sighed. "I don't know how it happened or why, but somehow I traveled through time and landed in the village. Those people were all set to give you another girl but—lucky me—when I fell in their laps they decided to use y
ours truly instead."

  "How dare they?" He stiffened as rage and betrayal tore through him at their deceit. "For over two hundred years, they have offered up a maiden with the understanding that the dragon would leave them in peace. In return, I have kept them safe, allowing no harm to befall their people from outside attack or oppression. It is the way it has always been. They know this!"

  He stalked to the mouth of the cave, his fists clenched and his fury rising to dangerous levels—levels he might soon be unable to control.

  "Did they not think I would find out?" he growled, the sound more animal than human. "Do they not realize with one breath I can burn all their huts to the ground and set their fields ablaze before they have even risen from their beds?" He spread his wings, the dragon blood in his veins demanding he take to the sky.

  Lady Jill came up behind him and stopped him with little more than a hand on his arm.

  "Easy there, dragon dude. Calm down and let's talk about this. Don't go and do something you might regret later."

  He looked at her pale face and saw her fear, of him and of the beast he kept barely contained. And yet here she stood, prepared to defend the very people who'd shown her no mercy and thought nothing of offering her as a sacrifice to the dragon.

  His anger subsided at her gentle persuasion, if only a little. "To break the curse requires a maiden from the village of my birth. If you are not from Gosforth, then it will not work."

  "Maybe. Then again, maybe not. While—technically—I'm not from the village, I was, well, there for a little while. Plus who knows, maybe some great, great, great, grandmother of mine was born in the village. It's entirely possible, if you trace my family tree back far enough. So if we go by the Kevin Bacon six degrees of separation theory, I might qualify."

  Baelin tried to follow her odd reasoning. If he understood her rambling words, then there might still be hope. After all, the tapestry had changed after she came and that had never happened with any of the others. It had to be a sign.