Rekindled Magic by T.M. Cromer

Author:T.M. Cromer [Cromer, T.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: TM Cromer

Chapter 16

As Quentin absent-mindedly spoke with Nash, he mentally replayed the earlier scene in the bedroom. Alastair’s devastation had been hard to witness. The choice between the love of his life or his daughter was a no-brainer. Aurora was in stasis, and even with the scroll, there existed a very real chance of failure if they tried to revive her. On the other hand, getting to Holly in time to save her from a fatal stabbing was not only possible, it was assured.

As the one tasked with retrieving the ancient artifact, Quentin would never be able to turn it over to Alastair if he refused to put Holly first.

He hadn’t known the scroll could only be used once within a hundred-year time period. That was one little factoid Athena had failed to mention to him last night. Still, it was one that made no sense. Based on the Goddess’s revelation, Quentin had returned over three-hundred times. There was no possible way those times were a hundred years apart. The math didn’t add up. Could he find a way to summon Athena before tonight to discover the truth?

When Nash’s words trailed off, Quentin glanced behind him. Alastair looked as serious and defeated as Quentin had ever seen him.

“I must return home to Rorie.” No matter how casual he tried to be, Alastair failed to hide his pain. “Time is short.”

“If there was any other way…” Quentin trailed off. Sympathetic drivel wasn’t warranted.

“You do what you must, Quentin. We all know where our priorities lie. My daughter mentioned that she’d like to speak with you.” Alastair turned his attention to his son. “Nash, I need a moment with you in private.”

As Quentin moved to pass Alastair, the older man placed a hand on his arm.

“Thank you, Quentin. You’ve always had her best interests at heart. No one could love her more.”

“That’s the truth, sir. But you don’t need to thank me. She’s easy to love.”

Nash snorted behind him. “Keep telling yourself that, you poor sap.”

In a low tone that only Quentin could hear, Alastair said, “His time is almost at hand. You’ll be able to needle him plenty.”

“Oh, I look forward to it.”

“As do I.”

Quentin closed the connecting door between the suites to offer the privacy the others needed. The shimmering material of the new dress caught his eye, and he approached the bed.

Holly’s gown for the gala.

She would be a vision once she slipped it on. She always was when she was formally dressed. Of course, he’d only ever seen her dressed up twice: prom and her wedding day.

“Gorgeous, isn’t it?”

“Did you conjure it?”

“Alastair did.”

“The man has excellent taste. I can’t wait to see it on you.”

“We should get going if we want to hit the Acropolis Museum before the gala tonight.”

Misgivings swarmed him, and he closed the distance between them and tipped up her chin. “I think you should go home with your father, Hol. I get the feeling your mother is fading fast. You should be there to say your goodbyes.

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