For Ruth and Marianne, who are that most precious of gifts — friends
It takes two to speak the truth — one to speak, and another to hear.
DANA Steele considered herself a flexible, open-minded woman, with no less than her fair share of patience, tolerance, and humor.
A number of people might have disagreed with this self-portrait.
But what did they know?
In one months time, her life had, through no fault of her own, taken a sharp turn off its course and into territory so strange and uncharted she couldnt explain the route or the reason even to herself.
But wasnt she going with the flow?
Shed taken it on the chin when Joan, the malicious library director, had promoted her own niece by marriage over other, more qualified, more dependable, more astute, and certainly more attractive candidates. Shed sucked it up, hadnt she, and done her job?
And when that completely undeserved promotion had caused a squeeze resulting in a certain more qualified employees hours and paycheck being cut to the bone, had she pummeled the despicable Joan and the incessantly pert Sandi to bloody pulps?
No, she had not. Which in Danas mind illustrated her exquisite restraint.
When her greedy bloodsucker of a landlord raised her rent to coincide with her pay cut, had she clamped her hands around his scrawny neck and squeezed until his beady eyes popped?
Again, she had demonstrated control of heroic proportions.
Those virtues mightve been their own reward, but Dana enjoyed more tangible benefits.
Whoever had come up with that business about a door opening when a window closes hadnt known much about Celtic gods. Danas door hadnt opened. It had been blown clean off its hinges.
Even with all shed seen and done, with all shed been a part of over the last four weeks, it was hard to believe that she was now stretched out in the backseat of her brothers car, once again heading up the steep, winding road to the great stone house of Warriors Peak.
And what waited for her there.
It wasnt storming, as it had been on her first trip to the Peak after receiving that intriguing invitation for “cocktails and conversation” from Rowena andPitte —an invitation that had gone out to only two other women. And she wasnt alone. And this time, she thought, she knew exactly what she was in for.
Idly, she opened the notebook shed brought along and read the summary shed written of the story shed heard on her first visit to Warriors Peak.
The young Celtic god who would be king falls for a human girl during his traditional sojourn in the mortal dimension. (Which I relate to spring break.) Young studs parents indulge him, break the rules and allow him to bring the maid behind whats called either Curtain of Dreams or Curtain of Power, and into the realm of the gods.
This is cool with some of the gods, but pisses others off.
War, strife, politics, intrigue follow.
Young god becomes king, makes human wife queen. They have three daughters.
Each daughter—demigoddess—has a specific talent or gift. One is art or beauty, the second is knowledge or truth, the third is courage or valor.
Sisters are close and happy and grow to young womanhood,tra -la-la, under the watchful eye of the female teacher and the male warrior guardian given the task by god-king.
Teacher and warrior fall in love, which blinds the eye enough that it isnt kept sharp on the daughters.
Meanwhile, bad guys are plotting away. They dont take to human or half-human types in their rarefied world, especially in positions of power. Dark forces go to work. A particularly evilminded sorcerer (probably related to Library Joan) takes charge. A spell is cast on the daughters while teacher and warrior are starry-eyed. The daughters souls are stolen, locked in a glass box, known as the Box of Souls, which can only be opened by three keys turned by human hands. Although the gods know where to find the keys, none of them can break the spell or free the souls.
Teacher and warrior are cast out, sent through the Curtain of Dreams into the mortal world. There, in each generation three human women are born who have the means to find the keys and end the curse. Teacher and warrior must find the women, and these women must be given the choice of accepting the quest or rejecting it.
Each, in turn, has one moon phase to find a key. If the first fails, game over. And not without penalty—each would lose an undisclosed year of her life. If she succeeds, the second woman takes up the quest, and so on. An annoyingly cryptic clue—the only help teacher and warrior are allowed to give the three lucky women—is revealed at the start of the four-week cycle.
If the quest is completed, the Box of Souls will be opened and the Daughters of Glass freed. And the three women will each be awarded a cool one million dollars.
A pretty story, Dana mused, until you understood it wasnt a story but fact. Until you understood you were one of the three women who had the means to unlock the Box of Souls.
Then it just got weird.
Add in some dark, powerful sorcerer god named Kane who really wanted you to fail and could make you see things that werent there—and not see things that were— and the whole business took on a real edge.
But there were good parts too. That first night shed met two women who had turned out to be really interesting people, and soon she felt as though shed known them all her life. Well enough, Dana reminded herself, that the three of them were going into business together.
And one of them had turned out to be the love of her brothers life.
Malory Price, the organized soul with the artists heart, not only had outwitted a sorcerer with a few thousand years under his belt but had found the key, opened the lock, and bagged the guy.
All in less than four weeks.
It was going to be hard for Dana and their palZoe to top that one.
Then again, Dana reminded herself, she andZoe didnt have the distraction of romance to clog the works. And she didnt have a kid to worry about, asZoe did.
Nope, Dana Steele was footloose and fancy-free, with nothing to pull her focus away from the prize.
If she was next at bat, Kane had better set for the long ball.
Not that she had anything against romance, she mused, letting the notebook close as she watched the blaze and blur of trees through the window. She liked men.
Well, most men.
Shed even been in love with one, a million years ago. Of course, that had been a result of youthful stupidity. She was much wiser now.
Jordan Hawke might have come back toPleasantValley , temporarily, a few weeks ago, and he might have wheedled his way into being part of the quest. But he wasnt a part of Danas world any longer.
In her world he didnt exist. Except when he was writhing in pain and agony from some horrible freak accident or a debilitating and disfiguring illness.
It was too bad that her brother, Flynn, had the bad taste to be his friend. But she could forgive Flynn for it, and even give him points for loyalty, since he and Jordan and Bradley Vane had been pals since childhood.
And somehow or other, both Jordan and Brad were connected to the quest. It was something she would have to tolerate for the duration.
She shifted as Flynn turned to drive through the open iron gates, angled her head so that she could look up at one of the two stone warriors that guarded the entrance to the house.
Big, handsome, and dangerous, Dana thought. Shed always liked men who were—even if they were sculptures.
She scooted up, but kept the long length of her legs on the seat—the only way for her to ride comfortably in the back of the car.
She was a tall woman with anamazons build that wouldve suited that stone warrior. She combed her fingers through her long swing of brown hair. SinceZoe , the currently unemployed hairdresser and Danas new best friend, had styled it and added highlights, it fell into that casual bell shape with little or no help from Dana. It saved her time in the morning, which she appreciated, as morning wasnt her best time of day. And the cut was flattering, which suited her vanity.
Her eyes, a deep, dark brown, locked on the elegant sprawl of black stone that was the house at Warriors Peak. Part castle, part fortress, part fantasy, it spread over the rise, speared up into a sky as clear as black glass.
Lights shimmered against its many windows, and still, Dana imagined, there were so many secrets in the shadows.
Shed lived in the valley below for all the twenty-seven years of her life. And for all of them, the Peak had been a fascination. Its shape and shadow on the rise above her pretty little town had always struck her as something out of a faerie tale—and not the tidied-up, bloodless versions either.
Shed often wondered what it would be like to live there, to wander through all the rooms, to walk out on the parapet or gaze down from a tower. To live so high, in such magnificent solitude, with the majesty of the hills all around and the charm of the woods only steps beyond the door.
She stirred herself now, shifting around so her head was between Flynns and Malorys.
They were so damn cute together, she thought. Flynn with his deceptively easygoing nature, Malory with her need for order. Flynn with his lazy green eyes, Malory with her bright, bold blue ones. There was Mal, with her stylish coordinated outfits, and Flynn, who was lucky if he could put his hands on a pair of matching socks.
Yes, Dana decided, they were perfect for one another. She thought of Malory as her sister now, through circumstance and fate. And really, wasnt that how Flynn had become her brother all those years ago when her father and his mother had married and merged families?
When her dad had gotten sick, shed leaned hard on Flynn. She supposed theyd leaned hard on each other more than once. When the doctors had recommended that her father move to a warmer climate, when Flynns mother had shoved the responsibility of running the Valley Dispatch into Flynns hands and hed found himself the publisher of a small-town paper instead of living his dream of honing his reporting skills in New York.
When the boy shed loved had left her.
When the woman hed intended to marry had left him.
Yeah, theyd had each other—through thick and thin. And now, in their own ways, they each had Malory. It was a nice way to round things out.
“Well.” Dana laid her hands on their shoulders. “Here we go again.”
Malory turned, gave Dana a quick smile. “Nervous?”
“Not so much.”
“Its either you orZoe tonight. Do you want to be picked?”
Ignoring the little flutter in her stomach, Dana shrugged. “I just want to get going on it. I dont know why we have to go through all this ceremony. We already know what the deal is.”
“Hey, free food,” Flynn reminded her.
“There is that. Wonder ifZoes here yet. We can dive into whatever our hosts, Rowena andPitte , picked up in the land of milk and honey, then get this show on the road.”
She climbed out the minute Flynn stopped the car, then Dana stood with her hands on her hips, studying the house while the ancient man with a shock of white hair hurried up to take the keys.
“Maybe youre not nervous.” Malory came to stand beside her, linked arms.
“But I am.”
“Why? You dunked your shot.”
“Its still up to all of us.” She looked up at the white flag with its key emblem that flew atop the tower.
“Just think positive.” Dana drew in a long breath. “Ready?”
“If you are.” Malory held out a hand for Flynns.
They walked toward the huge entrance doors, which swung open at their approach.
Rowena stood in the flood of light, her hair a firestorm falling over the bodice of a sapphire velvet dress. Her lips were curved in welcome, her exotic green eyes bright with it.
Gems sparkled at her ears, her wrists, her fingers. On a long braided chain that hung nearly to her waist was a crystal as clear as water and as fat as a babys fist.
“Welcome.” Her voice was low and musical and seemed to hold hints of forests and caves where faeries might dwell. “Im so pleased to see you.” She held out her hands to Malory, then leaned forward and kissed both of her cheeks in turn. “You look wonderful, and well.”