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Those thoughts had to go, before they stopped her in her tracks. Focus on the positive, if there was any. She’d accomplished all she’d come here to do. She had learned some control, could now recognize when a vision was coming. No more dropping to the ground without warning. She’d also learned some control within those visions. Maybe she’d no longer feel as if she were right there in the disaster, but could remain an observer. An observer who could help, if the timing was right.
That was all well and good, but it didn’t make her feel any better.
She’d walked from the cottage Ryder had left, too, headed in another direction. Toward the stones, she assumed. She had not been brave enough to see if he glanced back toward her. He was focused on saving his daughter, as he should be.
Echo was freezing, and it was her own fault. She had brought on the cold, the snow. Snow and frozen rain fell in fits and starts. She hugged herself in an attempt to keep warm. Now she knew what emotion could bring on snow.
Heartbreak. Desolation. The complete loss of hope.
Cassidy popped into her path, not five feet ahead. Echo stumbled to a halt, her heart almost bursting out of her chest.
“Where are you going?” Cassidy asked harshly.
“Home, I guess.”
“No!”
She wanted to hug the little girl, to offer some kind of comfort, but Cassidy wasn’t really here. Not in body, anyway. Echo understood that much now. “Your father will save you.”
“I know he will.” Cassidy rolled her eyes in that maddening way young girls do. “But who’s going to save him? That’s your job. I can’t do everything myself!”
For a moment, the snow stopped. The cold remained, but it was not so sharp and cutting. “Why didn’t you come to us this way earlier? Why didn’t you show yourself to your father? If you’d told us where you were...”
“I couldn’t,” Cassidy said, clearly exasperated. “Maisy had a spell on the room. I couldn’t do anything.”
“Where are you now?”
“Almost to the stones. Da’s coming, I can feel him, but...I need you, too. I need you to save him, if you can, if you...”
And then Cassidy was gone, without warning. Without even finishing her sentence. That couldn’t be good.
Echo had never been to the stone circle before, didn’t even know what direction to take to get there. Ryder had headed east when he’d left the cottage, but that was not nearly specific enough. There were miles and miles of wide-open fields, and many gentle hills that hid what lay ahead.
Echo closed her eyes. She reached for the source of power, for Cassidy...for Ryder. When she opened her eyes she was surprised to see a trail of flickering lights low to the ground. Twinkling, dancing, yellow and blue and pink and lavender, they lit the way.
For a moment, Echo held her breath. Fairies? Oh, hell, no. Must be Cassidy’s doing.
It didn’t matter who—or what—lit the way. She had to find her way to the stones. To Ryder. Echo began to run. The flickering lights in her path broke apart as she ran through them, then flew ahead to keep the line going. As far as she could see, those twinkling lights lit her way.
Maybe Ryder didn’t want her. Maybe he would never again be the man she’d fallen in love with.
But she was meant to be there, to help. To save him, if she could. If he would allow it.
Was she wasting her time trying to find him? There had been no love in Ryder when he’d left the cottage to save his daughter. No love, no hope at all. All she’d sensed from him was disdain for her and a dark determination. Still, she had to try. Cassidy needed all the help she could get. Echo ran, and once again snow began to fall.
* * *
The sight was just as Echo had described it. The stone circle, the snow, Maisy and Cassidy.
Maisy wore a dark ceremonial robe with a deep hood. She held a knife in her right hand. Cassidy was close to her, much too close. The knife was raised in the air, ready to swing.
He was not close enough, not yet.
Rye shouted; he roared as he stripped the leather cuff from his wrist. That was enough to wash him in a touch of forgotten power. It felt good, better than anything he could remember. He yanked the stone from his throat and tossed it aside, and the remainder of his long-locked-away powers returned. They rushed through him fast and sure. He’d been asleep for years, and now he was awake. He’d been sleepwalking; he’d been weak. He was weak no more.
Rye saw nothing but Maisy as he ran, moving faster than he should be able to. Seeing everything around and before him sharper, clearer, as if until now his life had been out of focus. She heard him, turned, smiled widely.
In the blink of an eye, he took on some of the powers of a panther. More speed, more lithe strength. His teeth became fangs, his hands claws. Maisy, who had been momentarily entranced, lost her smile. Perhaps she knew that he intended to rip her to pieces.
