Pressing her lips tightly shut, she went into the living room and flipped on the television in an effort to clear her mind. She hadn’t slept more than a few hours, and soon felt herself drift into a fitful oblivion.
However long later, something prodded her mind, calling, Wake up. Wake up right now!
She blinked open her eyes—and screamed. A scarred man stood next to the couch, watching her.
Fury pounded through her, and she jolted upright. “You!” Percen. With murder on her mind, she lunged at him.
He didn’t fight back, didn’t even try, just let her beat at him, as if he accepted the fact that he deserved every punch, scratch and kick.
When her strength deserted her, she collapsed on the couch.
Percen remained nearby, though he watched her cautiously. “I’ve come to aid you.”
Oh, really? “I don’t want your help! I don’t trust you,” she snapped. But hope was a silly thing. It began to unfurl inside her.
“You shouldn’t trust me,” he replied. “But what do you have to lose?”
He wasn’t wrong. “Can you free him?”
“Nay. I cannot. I created the spell so that no one could undo it.”
Her shoulders slumped. “What good are you to me, then? Get out of my house, Percen. I don’t want you here.”
He remained in place. “What I can do is teach you a stone spell.”
Why would she care about—Katie sat up straighter. Yes. Yes! Why hadn’t she thought of that before? If she turned herself to stone, she could be beside Jorlan forever. She didn’t have to think about her answer. “Yes. Teach me the spell.”
“You are sure you wish this?”
“Yes, okay? Yes!”
“Then you will need this.” He placed a small blue stone in the center of her palm.
Warmth tingled down her arm, power pooling in her fingertips.
“Come,” Percen said. “I would like to see him.” Together they walked to Jorlan’s statue.
Each time she saw him, love overflowed in Katie’s heart. Her own, and Jorlan’s. They were linked now, and she felt his deep, abiding love for her. His happiness when she neared.
She still dreamed about his life. About the precocious little boy he’d been, and the courageous warrior he’d grown to be.
Percen gazed up at his brother, his features contorting with grief. “Why did I not release my anger sooner?” His deep baritone dripped with longing and pain. “Why?”
What a pair they made. Jorlan’s brother could not let go of the past. She couldn’t grasp on to the future. “We have our reasons for doing the things that we do. We can only learn from them, and go on.”
“Heather says the same.” Percen sighed, the sound an echo of his inner torment.
“Heather is well?”
“Aye. I’ve made her my life mate, much to the distress of the Druinn. But as I am high priest, they can do nothing to usurp my authority.” His gaze skidded away. “I—I am sorry for all the pain I caused you, Katie. So very sorry.”
She thought about all the things she could say to this man, just to make him suffer. I hate you. I hope you feel as much pain as I do. But she had no desire to say those things. One look into Percen’s eyes—blue eyes so much like Jorlan’s—and she knew he already suffered.
“You are…forgiven. I mean, I have to forgive you,” she rushed on. “This is my fault as much as yours. Had I not been so stubborn, so selfish, Jorlan would never have returned to stone.”
Percen exhibited astonishment. And dread. “Your confession of love would not save him. I lied about that.”
Well.
“Am I still forgiven?” he asked.
“You are. Honestly, I think even Jorlan has forgiven you,” she added. “I’m kind of linked to him now, and I can feel his emotions. He isn’t upset with you. He’s glad you’re here, and that you are happy again.”
Percen curled into himself and silently sobbed. The only sound to be heard was the chirp of birds.
After a while, he straightened and moved his gaze to the fading sunset. “I have freed Mon Craig from his own stone casing. The spell I used on him was temporary.”
Oh, man. “You got him, too?”
Nod. “If you decide not to utter the spell, and wish to visit Imperia, go to him and he will take you. That is the price I exacted for his freedom.”
Her lips trembled as she offered a nod of her own.
“Jorlan can hear us, do you know that?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I know.”
He faced the statue. “I have a gift for you, brother. Though I know this will not make up for what I have done. For so long, you have wondered who murdered our father. It was…it was our mother. Do not blame her, though,” Percen rushed to add. “The king had lived many centuries, and he asked her to do it. He was weary of life. I did not understand until recently.”
The knowledge shocked Katie, and she knew it had shocked Jorlan, as well. “How do you know she did it?” she asked.
“I divined the truth the same day ’twas done.” Percen canted his head to the side. “And now, my gift to you. Are you ready to learn the spell, Katie?”
She nodded again. “Yes.”
He patted her shoulder. “If you do this, you will be trapped inside the stone, unable to respond to the world around you. Nothing will set you free. Not a kiss. Not a drop of blood. Not love.”
“I understand.” She lifted her fist to her heart. The one clutching the jewel.
In that moment, she recalled the first psychic she and Jorlan had visited. You have the power within yourself to go home.
Home.
Home was with Jorlan. No, home was Jorlan, and Katie would use every ounce of her power to be with him, even if it meant becoming stone.
Percen held out one hand and waved the free one over it. A yellowed tome appeared, and he passed it to her. “Hold the stone and say these words…sister, and you shall have your heart’s desire.” With that, he disappeared.
With the jewel and book in hand, Katie stared up at Jorlan. She detected his upset. He did not want her to do this.
“Too bad,” she told him. “My fear, stupidity and stubbornness got you turned back to stone. So, I deserve to be stone, too. This is happening…soon. First, I have to tie up a few loose ends.”
Katie strode back into the house, where she made calls and doubled-checked her will. She kept a copy on her laptop. She made a single change—Frances got the Victorian. Then, she wrote a letter to each of her brothers, explaining how much she loved them and how she expected them to always follow their hearts. Last, she wrote a letter to her dad. It was the hardest one to write, and she had to pause often to wipe away her tears. When she finished, she signed, “Love, your sixth son.”
She left the letters on the table, knowing her brothers would come searching for her in a day or two; she just prayed they would understand. Finally, she memorized the spell and burned the book, so no one else could use it.
That done, she returned to the garden and took Jorlan’s stone hand. The other held the jewel.
Jorlan’s disapproval threatened to choke her.
Do it! She might be giving up her life, but she was gaining so much more in return. An eternity at her husband’s side.