The Pendant Read online

  Salabine and her passengers arrived at their destination in less time than it took for Sam’s heart to beat. Hawk recognised where they were, even in the dark, and was able to guide the dragon as she flew over fields, meadows and buildings, arriving at Mama Rose’s cottage a surprisingly short time later. Salabine landed in the garden, trying her best not to squash any of the flowers or plants.

  Hawk gently cradled Sam in his arms once more and flew to the back door, letting himself in without knocking and almost forgetting to call out his thanks to the dragon. “Mama Rose,” he shouted, hoping he wasn’t waking her, but knowing that he probably was.

  He walked through the kitchen towards the front of the house, stopping outside one of the bedroom doors and opening it. When he placed Sam gently on the bed, she curled up into a ball, her arms cradling her extended abdomen. Hawk heard movement behind him and turned to see the heavy set figure of Mama Rose standing in the doorway, the lamp in her hand illuminating part of the room.

  “Hawk?” she said in confusion. “Is that you?” She was dressed in her nightgown, covered by a thick woollen robe. Her eyes fell to the figure on the bed. “Sam? Hawk, what is wrong with her and why have you brought her here in the middle of the night?”

  “We think she is suffering a miscarriage. We hope you will be able to save the baby.”

  Mama Rose rushed forward, thrusting the lamp into Hawk’s hands as she passed him. She felt Sam all over, pushing gently but firmly. Then she unceremoniously forced her hand between Sam’s legs and touched her in what would have been, under different circumstances, an inappropriate place. She removed her hand and examined it in the lamplight.

  “No blood,” she announced. “That is a good sign.” She regarded Hawk shrewdly. “Are you the father?”

  “Of course not,” he replied, taken aback by the question. “Though I do not see how that is really relevant right now.”

  “I would not be asking if it was not relevant,” she snapped. “The potion I will be brewing for her will kill the foetus if it is not completely human.”

  “Then you had better try something different,” he advised. “The father is an elf.”

  Mama Rose made her way to the kitchen and Hawk could hear her opening cupboards and putting water in a pan. A short while later she returned, a mug filled with foul smelling liquid in her hand. She instructed Hawk to help Sam sit up, then forced the patient to swallow the entire contents by holding her nose and tipping the liquid down her throat.

  “That was disgusting,” Sam complained when she had finished gagging.

  “I know,” Mama Rose said sympathetically. “But it will save your baby’s life. Now get some sleep and I will check on you in the morning.”

  Sam was about to say she was not tired, but a yawn prevented her from speaking. She lay back on the bed, completely overcome with exhaustion. Unable to keep them open, Sam closed her eyes and was asleep before she could thank the witch for her help.

  “Will it work?” Hawk asked.

  “Only time will tell.” The reply did not fill him with confidence.

  Mama Rose and Hawk retired to the kitchen, where she made herself a pot of tea before sitting at the table and asking Hawk what he had been up to since he had left her cottage to join Tor on his quest. Hawk told her everything and the sun was beginning to rise by the time his tale was finished.

  “You can sleep under the bed in my spare room,” the witch told him, noticing the sky outside the kitchen window beginning to brighten. “I need to keep the shutters closed for Sam anyway.”

  “I do not wish to disturb her,” he said, shaking his head at the offer.

  “There is not much chance of that. I mixed a sleeping potion in with the concoction she drank. She will not awaken before nightfall.” Seeing the concerned look on his face made her smile. He had come a long way from the self-loathing creature who had first arrived at her cottage many moons ago. “Stop worrying. It will not harm the baby. If it has any effect at all it will just make it sleep, which is probably what it needs right now.”

  Hawk knew better than to question what he was being told, so he bid his host a good morning and returned to the room in which he had placed Sam the night before. As Mama Rose had predicted, she was sleeping soundly. It was too dark in the room to see clearly, but Hawk was sure her skin looked a little less pale and she had stretched out, occupying the entire length of the bed instead of being curled up with her arms protectively around the baby inside her. Taking this as a good sign, he grabbed a blanket that had been placed on a chair, threw it under the bed, laid down flat on the floor and rolled over until he was securely under the wooden frame. Making sure the blanket covered every part of his body, just in case Sam awoke and opened the shutters, he closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

  He awoke before Sam and checked on her before exiting the room and heading to the kitchen, where he found Mama Rose cooking a large pot of soup, which looked thin, watery and unappetising.

  “I am glad that I am not the one having to eat that,” he said, making Mama Rose jump. He had glided into the room so quietly she had not heard him approach.

  “I wish you would not do that,” she admonished. “I forgot how silently you can move when you want to. Why can you not walk around the house like a normal person?”

  “I am not normal,” he stated, though she did not need reminding. “Did Sam wake at all during the day?”

  “No. I did not think she would.” She glanced at the contents of the pot she was stirring. “This is almost done. If she does not awaken soon you can go and rouse her.”

  “Did I leave any clean clothes here?” Hawk asked. “I was in such a hurry that I left all of my things in the back of the wagon.”

  “Try the trunk in my bedroom. Anything you did not take I stored in there.”

  When Hawk returned, having washed and changed his clothes, he found Mama Rose ladling some of the soup into a large bowl. “Go and get Sam please,” she said, without looking up.

  He knocked on the bedroom door, entering without waiting for a reply. Sitting beside her on the bed, he gently shook her. “Time to wake up sleepy head,” he said softly. “There is some delicious looking soup waiting for you in the kitchen.”

  She slowly opened her eyes and looked at him. “Where am I?” she asked.

  “Mama Rose’s cottage. You have been asleep since late last night.”

  “How is my baby?” she asked, unsure if she wanted to hear the answer.

  “You tell me. How do you feel?”

  “Tired. Extremely tired, like I have just run a marathon or something. But the pain has gone. That’s good isn’t it?”

  “I think so,” he said reassuringly, helping her sit up.

  “Ow,” she exclaimed, clutching her side.

  “What is wrong?” he asked in panic.

  “I think this one must be a boy. He is kicking me again.”

  “Now that is definitely a good sign,” he said in relief. “Come on.” He took her hand and pulled her off the bed. Her legs were too weak to hold her weight, so he picked her up and carried her into the kitchen, placed her on one of the numerous chairs surrounding the table and slid the soup bowl in front of her.

  “Liar,” she said to him quietly when she looked inside. The liquid was brown and smelled awful.

  He grinned at her. “Just eat it. It will make you feel better.”

  Reluctantly she took a mouthful. Thankfully it didn’t taste as bad as it looked. Almost, but not quite.

  “You are going to feel very tired for the next few days,” Mama Rose said, studying her carefully. “No exercise. Plenty of rest and nothing to eat except that healing soup and you will be back on your feet in no time.”

  “I don’t know how to thank you,” Sam said before forcing herself to eat another spoonful.

  Mama Rose waved her thanks away. “Do not mention it. It is what I do. Though you are lucky to have such good friends. They only just got you to me in time.”

  Sam nodde
d her thanks to Hawk, who had already told her how she had arrived at the cottage. Words were not necessary. “Did Salabine leave?” she asked. She wanted to pass on her gratitude to the dragon as well, without whom her child would no longer be growing inside her.

  “The dragon?” Mama Rose asked. Hawk nodded. “No. She is still in my garden, refusing to leave until she knows that you are alright.”

  “May I see her?” Sam was expecting to be told that she couldn’t, that she had to remain inside the cottage until she had fully recovered, but was surprised to be told that she could, on the condition that she eat the entire bowl of soup.

  Salabine was overjoyed to see her when Hawk carried her out into the garden and rushed forward to greet her, trampling a flowerbed. After assuring the dragon that both she and her child were going to be alright, Sam could not stop thanking Salabine for coming to her rescue. Soon she began to tire and reluctantly requested that Hawk take her back inside.

  “I have one more favour to ask, it you don’t mind,” she said before departing. “Hopefully Dean and Tor’s brothers are on their way to Mercia by now. Seth and Dal are with them. Would you mind flying around to see if you can spot them in the morning? I know it is a long shot, but I would appreciate it if you would try. I really need Dean with me right now.”

  “I would be more than happy to,” Salabine told her. “Now you should get some sleep.”

  Once Sam was safely back in her bed, Hawk returned to the garden and spent a few hours with the dragon, telling her the latest news of the quest, before leaving her in peace to get some sleep. Once more, before sunrise, he retreated to his hiding place under Sam’s bed and covered himself with a blanket. As promised, at first light Salabine took to the air. She would be able to cover a large area in a small amount of time and her amazing eyesight would enable her to recognise Seth and Dal from a great height.

  Despite her abilities, Salabine had little hope that she would succeed in her quest. Neither Sam nor Hawk could give any indication as to where their friends would be. All they could tell her is where they were when they sent their last message and where they should be heading to. Thus it was with great surprise that she spotted them below her mid afternoon.

  Swooping low over their heads, she landed on the road they were following, just ahead of them. Dal recognised her immediately and rushed over, closely followed by Seth.

  “Salabine,” Dal exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for you,” she replied. “Sam became very ill so I was summoned to fly her to Mama Rose’s cottage. She is recovering, but asked if I could locate Dean and transport him to her.”

  “I’m Dean,” he said, overhearing what was said. “What happened? Is she okay? How quickly can you get me to her?”

  “Calm down,” Brodin told him. “One question at a time. The dragon already said she is recovering.”

  Salabine chuckled. “Climb aboard. I can have you by Sam’s side quicker than you can possibly imagine.”

  Dean saw Seth wink at Dal, but was too concerned about Sam to worry about it. Salabine lay down and Dal instructed Dean on the best way to climb onto the dragon’s back. “See you at Mama Rose’s house,” Seth called out, waving as dragon and rider disappeared from sight.

  Brodin looked at Seth, Dal and his brother. “I guess we head to Mama Rose’s place. Do you know where it is?” Seth nodded his head. “Then lead the way.”

  Mama Rose was in her garden, trying to mend the flowerbed that Salabine had destroyed, when the dragon returned, appearing out of nowhere and making the witch scream out in fright. Sam was sitting in a chair, a blanket over her knees, watching Mama Rose work. She cried out in joy when she saw Dean atop Salabine’s back and could not put her gratitude into words. It was only the glare Mama Rose was directing towards her that stopped her standing up and running over to them.

  Dean slid to the ground and quickly walked over. “You’re looking fat,” he told her before kneeling in front of her chair and taking her in his arms.

  Chapter 23

  Ellen was having trouble accepting what she was being told. After drinking enough water to drown a fish, as Nosmas had put it, she had said she remembered being tied up by the bandits and watching the sunlight approaching, but then everything went blank. Between them, Tor, Ria, Nosmas and Quartilla filled her in on all that had happened since her ‘death’. Despite attempts to shut her up, Ria took great delight in talking about how badly Patrick had reacted to losing her, especially when she described how disgusting he looked when he stopped taking care of himself. An unwashed body and dirty clothes was not a good look for him. They told her everything, ending with Sam’s suspected miscarriage and her desperate flight with Hawk and Salabine to Mama Rose’s cottage.

  “I still do not understand,” she said. She was dressed in one of Ria’s dresses, which was too big for her, but better than nothing, and a black silk jacket that could only belong to Patrick. Every time she took another spoonful from the bowl of stew she had been handed, the sleeve became covered in gravy. She tried pulling the sleeves up, but they just kept falling down again. Surprisingly, Patrick did not say anything, though he must have noticed. “How can I be here if I am dead? And why am I able to eat?”

  “The second question is easy to answer,” Tor said. “You are obviously no longer a vampire.”

  That statement posed more questions than it answered, so Ellen turned to Zenda. “Can you please explain?”

  “I reincarnated you,” the witch said matter-of-factly. “I vowed that I would free Patrick of his curse if he ever fell in love and it seemed a little pointless to do so if the object of his affection was dead, so I returned you to him. I had no way of knowing what form you would take as I have never tried it on non-humans before. Now if I am ever asked the question again I will know the answer.”

  “What?” Ellen asked, even more confused than before.

  “The spell that reincarnated you also fixed your affinity for blood and your aversion to sunlight,” Ria translated.

  “Oh,” Ellen said, looking at Zenda. “And you are?”

  Patrick took it upon himself to explain. All hostility towards Zenda had gone from him and he spoke unemotionally about what she had done to him, as though the centuries of hell she had put him through no longer mattered.

  “I am not sure whether to thank you or kill you,” Ellen told Zenda when Patrick had finished. “What you did to him was cruel.”

  “It does not matter now,” Patrick informed her. “I have you back and that is all I care about.” Ellen looked at him suspiciously, but did not say anything.

  “It is time I was leaving you,” Zenda announced, picking up her belongings from where she had left them. She was about to walk away, but turned back to regard Patrick, her face pensive as though she was trying to decide whether she should speak or not. “You may want to start taking better care of yourself,” she eventually said, smiling slyly. “I have made you mortal again.”

  “But you gave me a choice, Ellen or mortality,” Patrick stammered. “I chose Ellen.”

  “I may have lied just a little bit.” She patted his cheek. “Call it a test, if you like.” Her face turned serious. “But if you even think about cheating on this young lady, trust me, I will find out.”

  Patrick smiled, taking Ellen’s hand in his. “There is no chance of that happening.” He kissed the back of her hand before letting it go. He then took Zenda gently by the shoulders and kissed her forehead. “I cannot thank you enough,” he whispered. “If ever you need anything, come and find me.”

  When he released her, he thought he could see a tear in her eye, but she quickly turned away from him, so he could not be certain. “I will leave you now,” she announced to the others. “My task is complete. I wish you well in your quest and hope that you find your companion is safe and well when you arrive at Mama Rose’s cottage. Please pass on my regards when you see her.” Without another word, she turned away, walking down the road in the direction Tor and his
company had come.

  When Zenda was out of sight, Ellen turned to Patrick. “Did you really give up your chance of mortality for me?”

  Patrick nodded. He was longing to say all of the things he should have said to her before she died, but now that he had the opportunity, he found himself unable to put them into words. Quartilla came to his rescue.

  “One thing that he has neglected to tell you is what he had to go through for you. He had to experience the agony you felt when you died.” She looked at her feet, embarrassed by what she was about to say. “His screams were so terrible they made me vomit,” she confessed.

  Ellen was too stunned to speak. The man she had been in love with ever since she had met him had finally demonstrated his feelings for her, in quite a dramatic fashion, and she was not sure how to react.

  Patrick took Ellen in his arms, pulling her close so he could whisper in her ear. “I am so glad you are back,” he said softly. “I am running out of clean clothes and you know how much I hate having to wash them myself.” Ellen punched him in the ribs, but she was still smiling.

  “We should get moving,” Tor said loudly. “We have a long way to go and the sooner we get started the sooner we can find out how Sam is.”

  Sam was bored. She was recovering well; her strength was slowly returning, she had not been in any more pain since drinking Mama Rose’s revolting potion and she could feel frequent movements from the baby. Mama Rose was continually checking on her and was pleased with her progress, yet she was still forcing her to spend most of her time resting.

  Dean was being wonderful. He was attentive without being suffocating, gave her space and privacy whenever she asked for it without complaining and kept her entertained as much as he could. He described in great detail all of the events he had summarised for her in the various messages he had sent via animal couriers and she did the same. He skipped over the part where Oak was murdered, not wishing to upset her, for which she was grateful. He was even getting on well with Hawk.