“Well, yeah, I do.”

Liz held out a thick piece of plaid and thrust the material into Helen’s arms. “He’ll need this and you’ll find him at the highest peak.” Liz shifted against a stone wall and pointed down a dark hall. “Go up these stairs and turn left. You’ll find a spiral of stairs that branch off to several floors. Don’t stop until you’re at the very last door. Once you’re passed through there, an even darker hall will lead you to three more doors. Open the second one and wait.”

Dark halls and doors? What did this have to do with Simon?

“I love my son, Helen. Maybe after you speak with him, you’ll have a better grasp of what’s happening around you. You have to trust us in order to work with us. The sooner that happens, the better.”

Helen glanced beyond Liz and down the dark passage.

“Here’s a candle.”

Great, like the small stub of a candle would help. What if she got lost?

Though Helen didn’t remember Simon saying anything about his mother reading minds beyond his, the strangest words came out of Liz’s mouth. “And if the candle goes out, cowboy up and try something new. Look at any sconce on the wall, get good and pissed, scared or any damn thing. Think of a firecracker on the Fourth of July and watch that sucker light your way.”

Helen felt her brow crease. The noise from the hall below grew louder.

“I know you’re scared right now. I know you don’t understand what you’ve gotten into. But the sooner you’re up to speed, the easier it will be for everyone.”

Cian bounded up the steps behind them and stopped when he saw them speaking. “Excuse me.”

“It’s okay, we’re done here.” Liz stood back giving Helen room to walk beyond her.

“I’m fetching Simon.”

“It’s okay, Helen’s all over it. Aren’t you, Helen?” There was a challenge in Liz’s voice.

“Up the stairs and turn left?”

Liz nodded.

Fine. “Fine,” she repeated aloud.

Helen turned and placed one foot in front of the other. Once the casting of light Liz held in her hand was behind her, Helen started toward the stairwell.

“You know she’s unaware of what she’ll find, right?” Cian’s question to Liz made Helen hesitate.

“The sooner she learns the truth, the better.”

“I’ll tell my father to expect a delay. But he won’t wait long.”

Helen took another step.

“Reality has a way of jump starting the brain, Cian. Tell your Dad to take a chill-pill. Helen needs this and Simon shouldn’t have kept her in the dark this long.”

“An army of men wait his word.”

“And a few minutes isn’t going to change a damn thing. Check on Amber. See if she’s okay, and then take your time going back to Ian. It won’t feel that long.”

The last word Helen heard was Cian saying “Women!” Then, because she wasn’t going to ask for an explanation, she bounded up the stairs repeating Liz’s directions in her mind. All the while praying the stupid candle wouldn’t die.

Chapter Fourteen

Through the eyes of a falcon, Simon swooped behind a tree and silently slid past the guard posted on the western turret of the Keep. Not that a knight would consider a falcon a threat, but Simon didn’t need to call any attention to any animal form he might take. He enjoyed the final blast of air that ran along his wingspan as he dove for the dark window that served as his refuge.

Before his talons could reach the floor, he willed his form to shift. Familiar pain popped every vertebra into place, skin stretched and feathers retreated. No matter how liberating it felt to sprout wings and soar above everyone and everything, having arms, legs, and an appetite for human food always welcomed him more.

Shaking his body from head to foot, Simon stood from a crouched position and took a deep breath.

A shuddering breath filled the room.

He wasn’t alone.

The sky had grown dark and the moon hadn’t yet risen. Without a candle, it was hard to see who welcomed him. He thought he heard the rustling of skirts. “Mom?” he asked, hoping it wasn’t she. Something about being a full-grown man standing in front of his mother naked was just wrong.

“Oh, God.”

Not his mom.

He could feel Helen’s panic long before he saw her face. A kilt skidded to the floor at his feet, and he heard Helen’s back as she hit the door.

“Helen.”

She turned and ran her hands along the wall, searching for the handle of the door. Simon grabbed the plaid, shifted it over his hips, and caught the door before she could open it.

“Wait.”

“Let me go.”

Simon kept a firm hand on the door and attempted to surround Helen with the other to calm her down.

She ducked below his arm and fled to the far side of the small room. “Get away from me.” Her voice shook. The shock of seeing him shift must have been horrific. Why was she waiting for him anyway? Who sent her?

“Helen, it’s okay.”

“Okay?” she hissed. “Y-you just… Oh, God.”

She moved again in the dark, shadows played on the walls from the torches lit outside. He willed a sconce on the wall to light with only a thought, and soon a warm glow lit up one very distressed Helen. Her beautiful blue eyes were owl-wide, her body rigid and poised to run. She shifted back and forth between her feet, and her fists clutched the fabric of her dress.

“How did you know to come here?”

“Your mom sent me.”

He’d have to have a word with her. And not a pleasant one. This wasn’t the way he wanted to reveal his gift to Helen.

“What’s going on, Simon?”

“I should have told you on my own.”

“Told me what? That you’re not human?”

“I am human,” he said lowering his voice and glancing to the open window beyond her back.

She took the hint and lowered her voice. Her clipped whisper no less effective in displaying her anger. “You flew in here. That isn’t human in my book.”

Simon raised his hands and turned them over a couple of times. “Does this not look human to you?”

A quick glance to his arms and her eyes darted back to his face. “I thought you were an animal whisperer. You didn’t say you became them.”

“Would you have believed me if I’d said I did?” He took a step closer.

She leapt back. “I don’t know what to believe any more.” Her hands were clearly shaking.