Bradley, Marion Zimmer - Shadowgate 04 by Heartlight (v2.1) Page B

           Jonathan
responded by stepping hard on the gas, and the sedan leaped forward into the
fog.
                 It
had rained on this side of the Bay, and the twisty streets of the Twin Peaks area were slippery. The car
slewed back and forth on the road, and Colin heard a choked sound from Jonathan
as the boy fought the wheel. He held his breath, but the car steadied, and the
engine wailed as Jonathan downshifted to take the last hill.
                 "Hurry
. . . hurry," Colin muttered under his breath. "There!"
                 Jonathan
jammed on his brakes, flinging Colin and Claire both forward against the back
of the bucket seats. He dragged the wheel around and gunned the engine, making
the car buck and squeal as it lunged up the slanting driveway to Greenhaven.
                 Alison
was waiting for them in the doorway. She reached the car almost before it
stopped moving and yanked the passenger side door open.
                 "Simon
told me you'd be coming," she said, as Colin climbed out of the backseat.
"And he's rarely wrong about someone in trouble. What's wrong?"
                 "She's
a Sensitive who's run into something more than she can handle, I think."
Colin reached into the car and lifted Claire out.
                 She
lay in his arms, limp with the long fight against her unseen demons. Alison
clucked in dismay, and beckoned them to follow her. Colin carried Claire into
the house, with Jonathan following behind like a worried duckling.
                 As
soon as Colin stepped through the doorway, he felt peace and stillness descend
over him; a nearly imperceptible cessation of the irritating background noise
that was the minds and souls of dense-packed humanity resonating through the
aethyr that surrounded them. Even Claire seemed eased by it.
                 "Upstairs,"
Alison said.
                 Between
them, Colin and Jonathan carried the unconscious girl up to the guest room
where Colin had stayed on his previous visits to Greenhaven. Simon was waiting
there, wearing the cross, unworldly expression that came from an unexpected
late night.
                 The
vigil light was burning on the small altar in the corner — Colin guessed that the
Elemental Symbols were Simon's, as Alison's Table of Hermes was larger and
more formal, kept in the converted garage that she used as her Sanctuary — and the room smelled of
cleansing incense.
                 "Lay
her down on the bed," Alison directed.
                 Simon
moved forward to help them, and soon enough, Claire London was stretched out on
the bed. Though the Seal had long since faded, Claire was fairly quiet,
protected by Greenhaven's shielding. Alison knelt beside her, peeling back an
eyelid with the brisk efficiency of one who'd had much experience in tending
an Adept's abandoned body while the soul journeyed far into the Astral Realms.
                 "She's
been drugged," Alison said shortly. "I was afraid of that — it would take a whole coven
to blast her this way through sheer Will. And she's very weak. Simon, get me my
bag."
                 The
young musician moved to obey.
                 "Drugged?"
stammered Jonathan. He glanced from the small altar to Alison, his face a mask
of questions — and faint, incredulous guilt.
                 "But
she . . . All she — All she had to drink at the party was the punch,
Professor. There was just a little vodka in it."
                 "She
didn't smoke anything? Take some pills, maybe?" Colin asked, though the
pep pills in vogue among the students anxious to be able to pull an all-night
study marathon weren't likely to have this sort of effect, and neither were marijuana
or hashish.
                 "No,"
Jonathan said uncertainly.
                 "Never
mind," Alison said, as Simon returned with her