Finding the Dream (Dream Trilogy 3)

"I will—but the chest."

"What chest?"

"In the cave."

"Don't worry about it. I'll—" But he glanced over at the gesture of her hand. And saw the dull gleam of brass against wood, the shadow of shape. "Jesus Christ!"

"Seraphina's dowry. Would you pull it out into the light?"

It was small, no more than two feet long, a domed box of cedar fitted with brass hinges. And no more than twenty pounds, he judged as he hefted it out. A simple box, uncarved, yet he could have sworn he felt something as his hands closed over it. Heat where there should have been none, a faint vibration that tickled his fingertips. It lasted only a moment, no more than two heartbeats, then it was just a small chest fashioned out of smooth wood and brass.

"AH of her dreams locked away," Laura said softly. "All locked away because the one she wanted most was over."

"The quake shifted the rocks." Frowning, Michael studied the cave, cut so neatly in the wall. "I'd say another one some time ago covered it up."

"She wanted us to find it. She's been leading us here all our lives."

"Now you have it." However intriguing the find, he had priorities. "I want you to put your arms around my neck and hold on. Can you do that? How's the shoulder?"

"It's sore, but I can manage. How are we going to—"

"Let me worry about it." He helped her to her feet, kept himself between her and the edge. "Just keep looking at me," he continued, pulling her arms up until they linked around him. It's a good strong rope. You've got nothing to worry about."

"Did you climb up the cliff? I thought I saw you climbing up."

"Nothing to it," he said, aware that her mind was drifting. "Fell off a few, too, on film." He continued to talk as he tested the rope. "Hold tight now, we're going up. Max! Back. Back." The rope went taut. With one arm firmly around Laura's waist, Michael let his feet leave the ground and put himself in the walker's hands.

Rocks scraped painfully against his back. He used his heels to aid the ascent while sweat ran down his face and the muscles of his arms screamed.

"Almost there," he told her.

"We didn't get Seraphina. We have to get her."

"I'll go back and get her. Just hold on. Look at me."

She snapped back into focus, stared into his eyes. "You came back for me."

"Sure. Hold on." For an instant his heart stopped. They were inches from the edge, dangling between sky and sea. If any one of them faltered, they would lose. "Reach up. Just one hand now. Reach up, Laura, and grab hold."

She did as he asked, watched her own hand grip the edge of rock and dirt, slip away, grip again.

"That's it! Pull."

Ignoring his tortured muscles, he levered her up, dragging himself behind her as his horse strained to pull them the last foot. Michael bellied up to level ground, then simply lay there, his body sheltering hers, his face buried in her hair.

"Laura. God. Laura."

His mouth sought hers, and for a moment he sank out of terror and into oblivion.

"We'll get you home. We'll get you home now." He drew back. "Pain?"

"My head. It's all right."

"Lie still, let me take care of you." He released the rope, let it dangle and gathered her into his arms.

"Max?"

"He'll come. Don't worry, he'll come." He carried her away from the cliffs and up the long slope to Templeton House, with Max following p