Pursuit (Through Time 1)

Chance and Trevor looked at one another. Chance said, “What does that mean, an illusion?”

“It means it isn’t real—but I’m not sure why”

“I am,” said Chance. “It’s so that he could change its location. Illusion is just that … nothing more. He can shift with her anywhere in this dimension … and unless she was looking for it, she wouldn’t know that it wasn’t real.”

“Then we had better hurry so that we can get a fix on him …”

They shifted into the castle, and Chance looked around. “It may be an illusion, lad, but it is a damn real one.”

“Yes … but focus … focus not on what you see, but on what you feel,” Trevor said. He closed and reopened his eyes. “By Danu … nothing, there is nothing here … and there, there is Red!”

Chance did what Trevor said and saw through the illusion. “Royce!” he called as he stepped towards her. She was about one hundred feet away.

Pestale stepped between them.

* * *

“Chance,” she answered softly in response. She knew he would find her. She had always known. She had been hoping, stalling, waiting for this moment. He was down the corridor—he was here in Pestale’s castle. He and Trevor had come to save her, but she couldn’t be saved; she had David and his parents to think about. They would be conscious soon …

She stood perfectly still, although the need to run to Chance was overwhelming, and a sob caught in her throat. And then … Pestale stood between them.

All at once, she knew what she had to do. Silently she called for her sword!

She could see Chance’s smile as he did the same; Trevor was just a step behind him, and they had Pestale surrounded.

Pestale laughed and shifted away, his own death weapon held high as he waved it at them and said, “Put your weapon away, Princess, and come to me. You know what I will do, if you don’t.”

Royce felt defeated by his threat, and yet, her mind told her to lunge at him, lunge, and with a growl of rage, so she did.

It gave Chance the opportunity, and he ensnared the Dark Prince with the Golden Net he snatched out of Trevor’s hands.

Pestale stood frozen in place, unable to move, a prisoner of the Seelie Golden Net! His father had such a net—he had even used it on occasion not so long ago …

He released a bellow of frustrated rage.

Chance came up to him and aimed his death weapon.

Trevor did not try and stop him because all he could see was his sweet love, Lana, at Pestale’s hand … her throat sliced open.

It was Royce who jumped to Chance and held his arm in mid-movement, “Chance!”

“He needs dying,” Chance answered her.

“He should be punished—death is too easy,” she said.

“What are ye saying, love?”

“I am saying that he needs to be returned to Queen Aaibhe … and then to the Dark Realm. We can’t sink to his level.”

“No. I want to see him die slowly. I mean to cut him in slow degrees and allow the poison of the Death Sword to fill his blood and give him pain over days and days …”

“Did it make it better? Did it … when you and your father … tortured the villain who killed your mother—did it make anything better?”

“That doona be the point …”

“It is … it is the point. Punish him—put him in hell! Can’t you see? He dreads it … it is the one punishment that will serve.”

Chancemont looked long at his beloved and touched her face. “Aye then … hell it is. We haven’t any time to waste now. Hold onto me—we are going to be sucked back into the portal at any moment …”