Into the Dim (Into the Dim, #1)(87)

Before he could react, Celia leaped forward and ripped Bran’s opal cloak pin away. She danced back, Bran’s lodestone—his safety, his only sure way back to where he started—clenched in her fist.

With the gun still raised, she spoke. “I should have known you would do this. You are weak. You are nothing.” She tossed her hair back, and gave a haughty laugh. “Eh, It is no loss. You are not of my blood. I will train Antonio to stand by my side. He is my only true son.”

“No!” Anguish and rage all balled together in one horrible expression skimmed across Bran’s features. He took a step in Celia’s direction, stopping only when she trained the gun straight at his heart. Hands raised in supplication, he begged, “Mother. Please. Tony’s too young. He’s not cut out for this. You know that. He’ll only get himself killed.”

“Then, querido,” Celia sneered, “you should not have betrayed me.”

For one, brief moment I thought she would pull the trigger. That she would kill her own son where he stood. The blood in my veins turned to slurry as the second stretched into an eternity.

Then, with a disgusted huff, she turned and fled into the trees. Bran’s hands fell to his sides and his head dropped in defeat.

Beside me, Mom was trying to say something, but the pain and blood loss were too much. Her eyes closed, and she slumped against Phoebe.

“Mom?” When she wouldn’t stir, I lightly smacked her cheeks, then shook her hard. “Mom!” No response. Shaking, I groped for a pulse. It flickered against my fingertips, weak and thready.

A cold wind began to circle us. Back at Christopher Manor, Doug had flipped the switch. The Dim had come to take us home, but something wasn’t right. The fractured light that danced over Collum, Phoebe, and me turned a deep violet. But the glow rolling across my mother was a sick, putrid shade of yellow.

Horrorstruck, I remembered what had happened to Dr. Alvarez’s son. How he was sliced in two, only half of him returning when he traveled without his lodestone.

“The dagger,” I cried. “Celia took it. Without the lodestone to guide Mom, she’ll go somewhere else. Or she’ll die.”

From the corner of my eye I saw Bran, pale and alone, move to the edge of the clearing. At my words, his head came up, and our eyes met. I hesitated for only a heartbeat. Five people. Three lodestones. And though Bran stood outside the glade, that still left four of us.

As I let the pendant spool out of my fist, I said to Phoebe, “tell Mom I’m sorry.”

She didn’t get it, but Collum did. He tried to tear the ring from his own finger, but the nerves in his injured arm wouldn’t cooperate. “Cameron, help me,” he yelled. “For God’s sake, get this bloody ring off and give it to Sarah. Hurry.”

Blood sheeted down Collum’s arm and streamed from his fingers. I glanced from the pendant, then back at Bran. I could see the argument forming on his lips. But we didn’t have time and he knew it. Finally, he gave a sharp nod. A silent agreement.

“Aye.” Collum nodded frantically as Bran approached. “I can’t remove it with this blasted arm. You’ll have to do it.”

“I’m sorry, Collum,” I said. “But you need a doctor.”

“What? No!” he cried, ripping at the ring.

I tossed the strip of fabric we’d cut earlier to Bran. He caught it and quickly bound Collum’s hands together, then ran over and grabbed Michael MacPherson’s sword. He shoved it into the scabbard at Collum’s belt while Collum writhed against his restraints and cursed us.

“Make it fast, Hope,” Bran shouted against the roaring wind.

The translucent cyclone began to circle higher and higher, whipping dark curls into my face, blinding me. My hands shook so badly that I could barely wrap the pendant’s chain around my unconscious mother’s wrist. When I closed her limp fingers over the stone, the soft purple light transferred instantly to her. My own skin turned an ugly mustard color. “I love you, Mom,” I whispered.

“Come on. We’ve got to get out of here.” Bran hauled me to my feet and rushed me to the edge of the glade.

The instant we passed the tree line, the muddy haze around me faded.

“Oh, Hope. No.” Tears poured down Phoebe’s ravaged face.

“Get them to the hospital as fast as you can,” I shouted. “Tell them it’s placenta previa. There’s time if you hurry.”

I tried to smile, but the muscles in my face had turned to stone. My knees wobbled. Bran’s arm came around me, propping me up as he had when we were children when we were lost in the woods so long ago.

“We’ll find a way back,” I cried. Bran pulled me farther from the cyclonic wind and raging light. “I swear it.” My voice broke on a sob. “Tell Lucinda . . . Tell her we’ll find a way.”

Collum screamed in frustration. Phoebe and I had time to share one horrified look before the air around them ignited in a fireball of violet light.





Chapter 43


THE SHOCK WAVE SMASHED INTO US AS THE INEXORABLE power of the Dim wrenched the others back to their own time. Hurtling backwards through the trees, I slammed hard into the snowy ground, the breath knocked from me. Green spots danced behind my eyelids.

They’re safe. Thank God they’re safe.

Bran crawled over to me, groaning. “Well, that smarted.”