By Jove (28 page)

Was her breath coming faster? No, she could still feel her chest rise and fall slowly. But the breathing she heard was ragged and uneven, and the air she felt in her lungs—it was chilly, yet still and musty at the same time, like a disused cellar. She opened her eyes and saw not sunlight in the Great Room windows but dimness as she walked. There were walls beside her, rough and damp, like the floor under her bare feet. One foot was sore as she stepped on it, and she realized she was limping, trying to keep from pressing the sole into the dirty stone. She shivered and sank to the floor, leaning against the wall to catch her breath, and closed her eyes for a moment, feeling weary despair creep over her.

It was dark when Theo opened her eyes again, not merely dim but completely dark. Nor could she feel anything physical now—neither cold nor damp nor pain in her foot—only a tangible sense of sadness that covered her like a pall. She reached with her mind and pushed against it. It wouldn’t give.

“Grant?” she called in the dark silence around her. “Grant, it’s me, Theo.”

The silence continued. But gradually she could sense something in it, a quality of groggy watchfulness that mimicked the silence.

“Grant,” she said again, and reached out to it. Her thought-fingertips just brushed something that jerked away from her, and a low moan tore at her heart.

“Please, Grant. Come to me. It’s Theo. I’m here,” she whispered.

Something rushed past her in the dark, something large and angry and fearful. It shoved her away then withdrew, and she could hear it muttering softly to itself. “No. It’s not Theo. Leave me alone, please. Please—”

“Grant, it
is
me.” She reached out in the dark and began to feel around her with her mind. Again she brushed against something that gasped and jerked, but this time it did not flee. “Oh, Grant,” she murmured, and gathered him to her.

He was shaking, only partly conscious and so lost in despair that she wasn’t sure he knew she was there. Quietly she began to murmur in a low voice, words of comfort and tenderness, and gradually felt his shaking subside as she wove a net of love around him.

“Th-Theo—” he whispered.

“I’m here, Grant. You must be sleeping, so I was able to come to you because I found your ring. We’re looking for you as hard as we can, and we’ll find you soon. Can you tell me anything? Do you know where you are? Has Julian hurt you?”

At the mention of Julian’s name the Grant-figure jerked. “Not Julian. Not—don’t show me—Theo and Julian—no—”

Theo cursed herself. “No, Grant. It’s just me. I love you and am trying to save you.”

But a wave of disbelief came from the shrinking form. “Theo loves Julian. I saw—”

“What you saw was a lie. I love you, Grant. When I find you we’ll go back to New Hampshire together, and I’ll teach the moose and porcupines Latin so they can do Plautus for a change. We can be together and love each other without anyone keeping us apart—” She knew she was babbling, but she was afraid that if she was silent, Grant would run away and hide again. “I love you,” she whispered once more.

He sighed and relaxed, drawing warmth from her thought-body, and after a minute she realized that he had slipped out of this dream they shared and into deeper sleep—

Olivia was shaking her. “Theo!” she called anxiously. “What was it? You—” She reached down and touched Theo’s cheek. “You were crying,” she finished.

She blinked up at Olivia. By the glow in the windows she guessed she’d been—asleep? In a trance?—for a good two hours.

“I don’t know. I was there, with him. It’s dark,” she whispered and clutched at Olivia’s hand. “It’s cold and dark, and he’s hurt his foot—he limps when he walks, but he can’t be still for long because when he’s moving he doesn’t have to think, because that’s when the memories hurt the worst—” A fresh wave of horror overcame her. “He’s in bad shape, Olivia. He—he doesn’t feel like himself, somehow. It’s like he’s imprisoned somewhere inside something else, and all he can do is hurt. He doesn’t understand where he is or what’s happened.”

“Where?” Olivia demanded. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know. It was dim. I could sense the walls on either side of me, like a hallway. But it was rough, like stone.” She swallowed and said, “Water?”

Olivia summoned a cup and handed it to her. “What else? Did you talk to him?”

“I tried to. He’s so exhausted—”

Because Julian had been coming into his dreams. It was obvious from his words, disjointed as they had been. Had Julian been using the ring to reach Grant’s mind? Could he just slip in and show Grant his memories of making love with her, like some poisonous home movie?

“I don’t think we’ll be able to get much from him anyway,” she told Olivia. “All he knows is that he fears Julian and was terrified that I might be Julian, come to show him—show him images of me and him. He remembers me, but couldn’t seem to understand that it was me there trying to help him.”

Olivia looked pale but determined. “Then you’ve got to try again.”

Chapter Twenty

Theo tried again the next night and couldn’t find him, but was successful the next night, and again the next. Grant didn’t seem to remember her previous visits, except for one thing: on the next nights he did not flee, but was easily coaxed to come to her. He quickly fell asleep as she spoke softly to him, as if he could rest only if she were there to guard him. She was happy to be able to give him peace, if only for a little while, but it made questioning him impossible.

Olivia was encouraging when Theo told her what happened the following afternoon. “You
are
helping him, Theo. Every night you go and comfort him in his dreams, it means Julian isn’t able to torment him. I don’t know if Julian needs the ring to do it—probably he does, or else you might have—”

“Might have bumped into him in Grant’s head? How nice,” Theo said with a shiver. “Well, it’s not gotten us far, but I can be happy that I’m protecting him from that.”

“Until Julian notices the ring is missing,” Olivia said.

“Oh, God, please don’t say that.” Theo leaned back on the couch with a shiver. “My head hurts again.”

“Then I suggest you have some ambrosia.” Olivia stared hard at the table next to her, and two large mugs appeared. She motioned one over to Theo, who caught it in midair and peered into it.

“Cocoa?”

“Well, it’s—ahem—it’s my favorite drink. Even Marlowe admits that really good chocolate is almost as good as wine. He drank his share of it at Eleusinian.”

Theo drank. “I think you’ve got something here.” The tingling of the ambrosia combined with the rich darkness of chocolate was wonderful.

“Don’t search for Grant tonight,” Olivia said suddenly, watching as she finished her cup.

“Huh?”

“It’s taking a toll on you. You looked peaked before you drank that, and you don’t look much better now. It can take a lot out of you to journey into someone else’s mind if you’re not used to doing it. Rest for a night or two, and then try again.”

“But I don’t want to miss any chances—”

“You won’t be of much use if you’re too tired to be alert for clues. Go back to your room and get a good night’s sleep.”

A night of uninterrupted sleep would feel good. But she drew as much comfort from being near Grant, despite his state, as he seemed to from her. For always, in the back of her mind, was the chilling thought that these might be her last moments with him.

Despite Olivia’s pep talks, she was losing hope. They had searched the campus for anything like a labyrinth, but nothing had come of their search. Not that using the ring to talk to Grant had yielded any more of use. It was no wonder she looked sad and tired.

Would it be better after all to just give in to Julian now? At least Grant would be released from his bondage. Hers would just be beginning. Maybe Julian would be kind, and let her drug herself on his Lethe wine until the pain began to ease.

Like it ever would.

Theo went back to her room and slipped into an uneasy sleep.

…

There was a knocking on her door, quiet but insistent. She whimpered and rolled over. Why wouldn’t it go away and leave her alone to rest? Then the knocking ceased, and she started to slip gratefully back into sleep.

“Please,” said a hoarse voice, outside her door.

Theo sat bolt upright, then nearly fell out of bed in her effort to reach the door. That voice—it couldn’t be—she unlocked the door and yanked it open.

Grant stood there.

He shivered with cold though the night was warm. His nude body was smeared with dust and dirt; his hair was shaggy and unkempt, his eyes were red and tired, and he looked like the most wonderful thing on earth. She stared at him as her knees threatened to buckle, then pulled him into her arms. “Grant—you—you escaped—”

He collapsed against her, still shivering. “Is it really you? Am I here? Please—” His voice was weak and rough, as if he hadn’t used it for a long time, and his tall frame shook as she held him.

“Grant,” Theo murmured, her chest swelling with happiness. “How did you—?” She pulled away to look at him again, and realized again that he was naked. Tears welled in her eyes. She drew him into her room, shut the door, and led him to sit on her bed, tugging her quilt up over his shoulders. “How did you escape? My poor darling.” She snapped her fingers and summoned a mug of hot tea, tossed aside the handful of smoking golf tees that appeared instead, and tried again. This time it worked. She held it to his mouth, and he gulped at it gratefully.

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “It was so dark, all the time—”

“I know. I tried to come to you and help you—someone told me where to find your ring—”

“Someone helped you? But who?” he asked, dazed.

“I don’t know yet. It doesn’t matter anyway, now that you’re here. I’ve been so worried about you.” Theo felt as if the weight of the world had been removed from her shoulders. She put her arm around him and turned his face to hers. “But you’re safe, and we’ll be together for always. We won.” She kissed him.

He leaned against her. “Kiss me again. I’ve been so cold, and afraid—”

She kissed him again, longer and deeper. “Do you mind my kissing you?”

He looked confused. “Why should I mind? It’s all I’ve thought about. Now that I’m with you…hold me, please.”

Then the last vestiges of his immortal reluctance were gone. He was truly a man. Theo pulled him closer and began to laugh from nervous relief. “I can’t believe you’re here.” She brushed his hair out of his eyes. It felt wonderful under her fingers. “How did it happen?”

He shivered again. “I don’t quite know. I was asleep, I think, because I woke up and there was light. It hurt my eyes—”

Theo stroked his face. He reached up and captured her hand to bring it to his lips. “I kept staring at it until I could stand it, and then I crawled over to it—”

She made a small sound, and held him closer.

“—and it was a door, left partly open, in the Administration Building—”

“We looked there, but it wasn’t easy to check all of it as well as we should have. Olivia wanted to try again—Olivia! We should call her right away.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “If only we’d tried again sooner. Who could have let you go?”

“I don’t know. I don’t care. I’m here now.” He closed his eyes and leaned against her. “Call Olivia later. I just want to feel you next to me right now.” He shivered again.

“Come on.” Theo tugged him farther up the bed and pushed him onto her pillow. Then she lay down next to him and pulled the covers over them both. “You’re still freezing. Let me warm you.” She held him against her and wrapped her legs around his. He nuzzled his face into her neck.

“You smell just like you,” he murmured.

“Who should I smell like?” she teased. Oh God, it was so good to have him back in her arms, closer than she’d ever had him before.

“I don’t know. It’s just—” He raised his face and looked at her for a moment, his gray eyes serious. Then, slowly and deliberately, he kissed her.

“Grant,” she whispered, a few minutes later. “Do you—I can feel you—”

“Do
you
want to?” He kissed her neck, and she closed her eyes and made a soft sound of pleasure in her throat.

“Yes, I do. But if you’re too tired—it can wait—”

“No. Now. What do you think has kept me going all this time? Knowing that some day I’d be able to hold you, and touch you, and make love with you. My dearest Theodora.” He reached down to pull up her t-shirt and let his hands wander over her breasts. “So soft,” he whispered, and bent his mouth to one.

Theo closed her eyes. She had waited so long for this to happen, dreamed of it all those anxious weeks in the fall and winter and the even more anxious ones this spring, wondered what it would be like when they came together at last. Now Grant was safe, and they would be together for always. A memory returned to her, then, of something he had once said. “Are you sure, Grant? You don’t want to wait until—”

“Wait until what?” He moved to the other breast, and she shivered.

“I thought you wanted to wait until we were in New Hampshire before we made love.”

He was quiet for a minute. Or too busy. Theo didn’t care which, so long as he didn’t stop whatever it was he was doing right now.

“Maybe I did, once,” he finally said. “But I want you here and now. I can’t wait anymore.”

“Oh, darling.” She kissed him back and let her hands wander across his chest and down his torso.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he murmured, kissing her hair. “All these weeks, longing for you and not able to touch you.”

Theo froze. “No,” she breathed quietly. Then more loudly, “No.” She sat up and stared at him, then ran a finger down his side. His smooth, unblemished side. “Your scar.”

“What?”

“Your scar’s not there,” she said, scuttling back toward the foot of her bed. No, it couldn’t be—please, no, it just couldn’t—

“Damn,” he muttered.

“No!” she cried, half-leaping, half-falling backward off the bed. Grant sat up and lurched forward to try to catch her wrists, and she caught a glimpse of turquoise eyes and tousled silver hair. “You called me Theodora. I sh-should have known th-then,” she stammered furiously.