Chance looked at her and frowned. “What? Ye saw something in that complicated brain of yers—what?”
“Nothing … I … nothing,” she answered and was saved by the Orb.
The rainbow colors shifted into gray, and the Orb spoke. “Here … the Dark Prince lies here …”
The three peered into the Orb, but although they could see Pestale standing and actually conversing with someone who was just out of sight, they couldn’t discern where the Dark Prince could be.
Chance nudged Trevor. “What the bloody hell? Where is he? Ask it!”
Trevor frowned at him and said, “It takes time …” but he did return his attention to the Lugh Orb and asked gently, “Orb … we see the Dark Prince, but we need to know where he is.”
“He is surrounded by black magic. He is evolving—as his father once did, losing some of himself as he gives himself over for more power. He is in the in between.”
“The in between what?” Trevor asked.
“Time,” answered the Orb.
“How do we get there?” Chance got right to the point.
“You must find the Peckering, and it will open the door,” answered the Orb.
“The Peckering?” Royce asked in surprise. Her brother had told her the tale of this Hallow, missing for so many centuries. She then was utterly surprised when the Orb directed his answer to her and said, “Yes, Princess, and it is you who holds the key t
o its location. I cannot see past the black magic that hides it.”
“I hold the key?” she said, shocked. “How shall I see past black magic?”
“Dark was the Druid who held it fast. Dark was the Druid who was taken by the black magic he conjured up, and hidden became the Peckering,” whispered the Orb before the gray mist that floated like heavy clouds inside it vanished. It glowed orange for a moment and then turned into clear glass.
Trevor tried to recall it, but it would do no more than glow to the sound of his voice and remain quietly still.
“That’s all the Orb can give us today,” Trev said on a heavy sigh. “And damn if I know what to do with what we’ve learned.”
Chance snorted; Royce assumed that he did not think much of riddle-like information they had received. However, his next words showed her that supposition was not quite right.
Chance said slowly, “Well now, ye both be too young to know much about him, but I remember the Fallen Druid very well. It was a name he earned.” He sighed and said, “We will have to consider all the possibilities. There are no easy answers, and I am not exactly sure how this information helps us. I need some time to think.”
~ Six ~
“WELL? HAVE YOU thought long enough?” Royce asked, for she could see from the way Trevor sat that he meant to let Chance draw this out, for what reasons she could not fathom. She meant to speed it up if she could.
She noted to herself that as usual Trevor was far more patient than she ever could be. In fact, she realized, they were so very different from one another it was a wonder their friendship had ever survived those differences.
She tried to control her anxiousness ‘to know’, and Chance seemed to enjoy her discomfort as he said softly, “Aye then … I suppose ye want to know about this Fallen Druid?”
“You think?” Royce returned with a frenzied movement of her hand.
“We must approach this new development carefully,” he said after a moment’s quiet.
Royce reached out, grabbed his arm, and squeezed. “Now—tell us now what you know.”
“If ye take hold of me like that with yer fine wee hands, ye must expect me to do the same …” he said to her with a look that made her want to cross her legs and close her eyes. He had a magnetism that worked her in so many ways …
“I … only grabbed yer arm …” she offered on a hushed sound.
“There is no saying where I’ll be grabbing,” he returned with a low and sexy tone that came from somewhere deep in his throat and made a shiver race up her spine.
She stared into his blue eyes—those bright blues—and then cast a glance over his face, partially shaded by his windblown blond hair. She had an absurd desire to move into his arms and kiss him. She told herself she was just frenzied by everything that had happened.