Page 67 of Never Leave Me
When, a moment later, Will and his squire dragged a man out, her whole body trembled. It was her dad. He was limp and pale and unmoving.
“Is he alive?”
Will removed a glove and pressed fingers against her dad’s mouth, checking for breathing. “Yes. Thank the saints.”
Swift tears stung Ellen’s eyes, and a tight ache formed in her throat. She took him in from his full head of gray hair that had once been red like Marian’s to his matching gray beard and mustache, which were full but trimmed neatly, giving him a scholarly appearance. His face was round, almost plump, just like his stomach, the result of his sedentary lifestyle of research and study.
After she’d attended his funeral a year ago and watched his coffin being lowered into the ground, how was it possible he was here and that she was seeing him again? Was it even real?
She didn’t know. Maybe she was only imagining everything in her coma-induced state. Or maybe she couldn’t deny Harrison’s speculations about entanglement allowing for a body to share an existence even though physically separated.
Such a concept defied her comprehension. But just because she wasn’t able to understand it didn’t mean it couldn’t happen. After all, the people of the Middle Ages couldn’t conceive of a world with cell phones, internet, or airplanes. Even though they couldn’t envision modern technology didn’t mean it was impossible.
Whatever the case, she was helpless to do anything but go along with this strange reality. As Will hefted her unconscious father into the saddle and secured him, she lifted a prayer they would be able to keep him safe amidst the dangers that only seemed to be increasing with each passing day.
Harrison stood in the middle of his bedroom, holding the flower-patterned ampulla. The glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the jagged opening where he’d broken the seal. He’d meticulously poured the liquid into a test tube, sealed it, and locked it away in his safe.
But he’d made sure enough remained in the ampulla that he could test some. If he could make a brief time crossing, then he’d know the water contained residue from the Tree of Life, the ultimate cure.
He glanced at the glowing lights of his bedside table clock: 11:30 p.m. He hadn’t wanted to wait until the late hour, but he’d forced himself to be patient. If Ellen was in the past, he didn’twant to chance missing her by appearing in the room too early in the evening when she might not be there.
On the other hand, he couldn’t wait overly long. He needed to meet with her before Sybil and a team of special forces raided an underground lab that the former Lionel employee had disclosed during the meeting.
Sybil hadn’t divulged the time they planned to execute Ellen’s rescue, but she’d indicated it would be sometime during the night since they hoped to utilize the darkness in aiding their efforts.
His desperate prayer was that Ellen would be back at Chesterfield Park by dawn. He’d brought in the best medical equipment in preparation for her return, and he’d informed his physician to be ready. He didn’t know what state she’d be in, but he suspected she’d be comatose.
The trouble was, he needed to communicate with Ellen first and tell her to put two more ampullae of holy water into the vault. Then he’d be certain he could revive her from the coma safely. He needed two doses to keep her alive—he’d learned that lesson well enough from Marian. If the Walsingham ampulla contained real holy water, then she’d only need to find one more dose. But he wanted her to put in two—just in case.
Lifting the ancient ampulla, he closed his eyes and prayed fervently, as he had earlier, that the water was the real thing. He tipped the broken flask to his lips and let the remaining droplets fall onto his tongue.
He held himself still for several long seconds, waiting for the rush of warmth to blow through his veins. When nothing happened, he tapped the flask and shook it, trying to get out the last remnants. A final drop fell into his mouth. But still he felt nothing.
He willed himself to see into 1382. “Come on now. Take me to her.”
At a startled gasp and shuffling of sheets, his eyes flew open.Darkness enveloped him. The mustiness and dampness of the air was the same as when he’d crossed over the previous night.
His pulse kicked hard. Thank the Lord. He was in the past again.
He strained to see the bed. “Ellen?”
“Harrison?” Her response was groggy.
She was here. Urgency prodded him forward. He needed to give her instructions before he was jerked away from her. “Listen, love.” He fumbled through the dark in the direction of her bed. “You need to put another flask of holy water into the vault right away. Two, if possible.”
“You’re back.” The sleepiness fell from her voice.
He bumped into the bedstead. “Then it’s true. You’re in the past?”
“Yes, I’m with Marian.” In an instant she was gripping his hands as though she planned to force him to stay.
“Ellen, listen to me, love. I need the two doses to wake you.”
“Harrison. No. I need to warn you.” Her pull was strong, and the momentum of her tug threw him off balance. Though he tried to steady himself, he toppled to the sagging mattress so that he was half on her and half on the mattress.
“It’s Dr. Lionel,” she was saying, holding him tight. “He’s behind Josie’s cardiac arrest. And he intends to harm the rest of the children unless I deliver holy water to him within the week.”
With the sweet pressure of her body against his, he knew with clarity that this moment was all too real. His physical reaction to her touch was too swift and too electric to be anything but genuine.
