together, then Abi can look and see what has happened to Mora.’ He paused and looked at them thoughtfully. ‘And Kier.’
When Mora woke she was in her own bed. Her father was sitting on a stool at her side holding her hand in his. He saw her eyelids flicker and he leaned forward with a gentle smile. ‘At last. You have slept for a long time, my Mora.’
She moved uncomfortably and felt a tight restriction round her middle.
He nodded slowly. ‘Addedomaros has been looking after you. He has strapped your ribs and stitched the wound. You lost a lot of blood but you are on the mend.’
‘And Lydia?’
‘She is all right. She is staying here on Ynys yr Afalon. She has been helping us.’ His eyes sought hers. ‘There is nothing left for her on the mainland.’
Mora closed her eyes, feeling hot tears slipping out onto her cheeks. ‘Petra?’ There was a long silence.
‘Petra sleeps,’ he said at last. ‘Between life and death. We have tended her wounds and Addedomaros has dripped life-sustaining drinks between her lips, but her spirit has fled.’
‘But she is still alive?’ Mora struggled to sit up.
He shrugged. ‘She still breathes. Addedomaros says – ’
But Mora was not listening. Somehow she managed to swing her legs over the side of the bed. ‘Take me to her.’
‘You’re not strong enough.’
‘I am. I am strong enough. I know how to help her.’
Her father carried her. Petra was in a small cubicle near Addedomaros’ own room. Lydia was sitting with her in the flickering light of two beeswax candles. The whole room smelled of honey.
Setting Mora gently on her feet Fergus Mor stepped back in the shadows as she stood for a moment, looking down at the unconscious figure in the bed. For several moments she didn’t move then painfully she sat down on the edge of the bed. Smiling sadly at Lydia who was seated on a stool at the far side, she reached for Petra’s hand. It was soft and supple but very cold.
‘Petra?’ she whispered. ‘Petra, can you hear me?’
There was no movement in the girl’s face. It was as still as carved stone.
‘Petra. I am going to make you better.’ Mora laid her hand on the cold forehead. ‘I want you to wake up.’ She hesitated, glancing up at Lydia, then at her father, her eyes for a moment full of doubt.
‘Do it!’ Abi whispered. ‘Do it, Mora. Heal her in Jesus’ name.’
She saw Mora turn and look back at Petra again. Had she heard her? Abi wasn’t sure. The hut was full of shadows as the candle flames danced.
‘Petra!’ Mora’s voice was stronger now. ‘In Yeshua’s name you are healed!’
There was a long pause. Lydia, Mora and her father were gazing at the child’s face. The whole world seemed to hold its breath. A sigh of wind from the doorway flattened the candle flames for an instant and, as they watched, Petra opened her eyes.
It was later, when Petra was once more asleep, this time in Lydia’s hut where she had been given a bed of her own after she had eaten and drunk for the first time in days, Mora went back to her father’s house.
He looked at her as she settled on her stool. ‘In Yeshua’s name?’ he repeated gently.
She nodded. ‘He is the greatest healer I have ever seen.’
Fergus Mor stared down into the fire. ‘I do believe he is,’ he said at last.
There was another long silence, then for the first time she remembered to ask. ‘What happened to Flavius?’
‘He disappeared.’ She heard the harsh note in her father’s voice.
‘He escaped unhurt?’
‘We don’t know.’
‘And the man who was outside?’
Her father did not reply and she gave him a glance from under her eyelashes. ‘I saw him. Or at least, his shadow.’
‘As did Lydia. He too has gone. There was no trace of him. The whole area has been searched, but both men have vanished. There were no footprints. No clues. No trace at all save this one thing.’ With a sigh her father heaved himself to his feet and walked across to the table. He picked up something and brought it back to her. It was a silver cross on a broken chain.
Dry-mouthed, Abi stood up and went back to Kier’s side. Reaching under his jacket she pulled his shirt open. ‘He wears that cross all the time – ’ She broke off, staring down at his throat. ‘Nothing,’ she whispered. ‘It’s gone.’
Greg moved over to her side. He pointed to Kier’s neck. ‘See that mark? And here, a raw tear in his skin, as though something has been pulled off.’
Abi looked up and they held each other’s gaze. ‘The cross is still there, in the past,’ she whispered. She threw a pleading look back at Justin who was still seated at the table. ‘Help him,’ she whispered.
Justin rose to his feet. He came over and stood looking down at Kier’s face then he reached for the man’s hand, his eyes full of compassion. ‘I will try and go after him,’ he said after a moment.
‘No!’ Bishop David’s voice was firm. ‘We don’t know what has happened or what is happening, but I do not want to risk anyone else’s safety.’
Justin narrowed his eyes. ‘Thank you for your concern, but this is my job.’
‘And mine is the welfare of my clergy.’
‘Then let me help him. He is lost in another world. He doesn’t know where he is or how to return. He doesn’t know the byways between the worlds.’
‘And you do?’ Bishop David fixed him with a steely look.
Justin nodded. ‘I have been trained to do this, David.’
The bishop opened his mouth to retort and changed his mind. He shook his head. ‘I am uncomfortable with all this. You are a pagan – ’
‘And I am dealing with pagan times and with pagan people and with pagan concepts.’ Justin paused. ‘These people were the friends of Jesus Christ. They risked everything for him. Your colleague has gone into the past in Jesus’ name.’
‘And he saved Mora and Petra,’ Abi put in.
‘With your help.’ Justin turned back to her. ‘That was the moment when history was at a point of balance. Without your prompting Mora might not have used Yeshua’s name. In her father’s presence she might have felt too inhibited.’
Abi shook her head. ‘Rubbish. Mora was a strong woman.’
‘Stronger with you beside her.’ He winked, then he turned back to Kier. ‘This part of the action belongs to me.’
Abi nodded. She laid her hand on the bishop’s sleeve. ‘We owe him this. We can’t abandon him,’ she said firmly. ‘What if he dies?’
‘I don’t think he will die,’ Greg put in doubtfully, ‘At least…’ He paused. ‘You would be risking your life or at the least your sanity.’ He had been staring thoughtfully at Justin. ‘I know shamans do this in many cultures, but even so.’
Justin gave a wry smile. ‘They do it in our culture too. Now please, let’s not waste any more time. Can I suggest you all go out and leave me to get on with it. I find the overlay of scepticism in this room rather overwhelming. Why not go down to Hay for a few hours. Buy some books, drink coffee, walk by the River Wye, go to St Mary’s and pray. I will ring someone’s mobile when I have finished and call you back.’
Abi didn’t go with them. She watched the car drive away from the doorway then turned back inside. ‘Do you want me to go out too?’ She had refused to accompany the men, but she wasn’t sure Justin wanted her there. Behind them Kier lay back in the chair by the fire, eyes closed, unmoving. Justin shook his head. ‘I don’t want you to go. It depends. Can you sit in a corner in here and pray for me without interfering?’
‘You want my prayers?’ She scanned his face, searching for signs of mockery. He stepped towards her and put his hands on her arms, drawing her close. ‘Yes, Abi. I want your prayers. I want you to cover my back; to watch over me. To hold me in your heart and surround me with prayer. Because I don’t worship in your church doesn’t
