Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
After nine hundred years of being imprisoned by dark Fae magic, Rory had grown weary of watching for what would come.
From the expanding alterations in the spell trap, he knew the clan’s luck had nearly run out.
The terrible siege that they endured every year was coming, of that he had no doubt.
What he feared was this time the perversion of the enchantment would create such mayhem that he would have to use his power to protect his brothers.
During the last hour he’d sensed his legacy growing stronger within him, which meant the others of his bloodline in the world beyond had died.
Only he and Ava remained now, he reckoned.
What would become of him mattered little. It was what Rory could do while gripped by the black velvet talons of his blood magic that terrified him.
He left the forge and made his way to the watch tower, where he stood and looked out at the forest illusion.
The voids left by the last battle with the MacBren had not yet disappeared, and some were beginning to appear on the outer curtain wall.
That suggested that the damaged enchantment was once more creating faceless attackers.
Did they roam outside the wall, waiting to be commanded to siege the stronghold?
Even now they could be gathered somewhere in the blurry trees, waiting and watching.
They had no will of their own, but he did.
Could I end it all before they learn what I am?
Torra had left him before an hour had passed, as she had promised. More than that and he would have perished. But now he wondered if there might have been a way to keep her.
Looking over the edge of the battlements didn’t console him.
If he jumped, he would likely break every bone in his oversize body, but he would not die.
For that he would have to return to the forge and first stoke the furnace.
He didn’t fear pain, or dread dying. His lady màthair had taught him how pain could be pleasure, and assured him that there was no true death for their kind.
She would not condone what he now contemplated, however.
I didnae save you so that you might sacrifice yourself in the fires of your fear, Chomha would tell him if she yet lived. You’re the last of our bloodline. You’ve the ability to redeem us all.
Ava appeared beside him, and silently surveyed the damage to the illusion boundary and the wall.
He knew she wanted to speak, but had read his mood and understood that words could not aid him now.
When she reached over and took hold of his big hand, her power laced through his fingers like a dark velvet ribbon.
She, too, had grown stronger. What would that mean for her?
Would the two of them end up drowning in darkness?
“’Tis coming within the next two moons,” he found himself saying. “All that we’ve endured before now and more, much more. ’Twill prove a thousand times worse than we may imagine. ’Twill drive our vassals to madness.”
“I know. I’ve been sharing your dreams.” At his startled look she smiled. “I didn’t intend to. Blame our bloodline. I agree that more trouble is coming, but it’s not going to kill us. Not if we’re smart and use it.”
“Use what? Death? Destruction? The collapse of our prison?” He couldn’t believe she could think so foolishly. “’Tis no’ surviving it, my lady.”
“We don’t survive it.” She nodded toward the voids in the illusion. “We use it to make a hole in the world. We use that to escape.”
A white mist rushed up around them, and Rory opened his mind and welcomed Torra MacBren’s spirit.
Forgive me, Armorer, she said. ’Tis something you dinnae ken.
“Why are your eyes white?” Ava asked, touching his arm.
“’Tisnae any trouble. Torra shows me something she witnessed down by the entry to the spell trap,” he told her as he watched the memory given to him by the spirit.
“’Tis a disembodied head coming through the barrier.
Mortal. It struck a wall and bounced back through to the other side.
” He halted the memory at the moment that happened, and looked through the opening created by the head’s passage.
“’Twas done by Bodach. Now the head, ’tis looking at him with living eyes. ’Tis attempting to speak to him.”
“How could a decapitated head do that?” Ava asked, sounding worried now.
The memory disappeared, but the white mist hovered around them as Rory thought back through all of Chomha’s teachings.
Once mortals were slain their bodies began to rot, a process which could not be halted except by enchantment.
Limited use of the corpse could be done if it were revived to serve, but the passage of time would inflict decay that would cause it to rot.
Whatever the goblin intended to do, dead flesh would not long serve him.
“I dinnae ken,” he said to Ava. Better she believe him ignorant than revealing just how much he knew of dark magics. “What I may tell you, my lady, ’tis that which you dinnae wish hear.”
Ava looked up as the sky grew lighter. “You don’t want to say that the end of this place is coming, but I already know that, too. When it dies, we die with it.”
“’Tis why we must break the enchantment before it does.” He met her gaze. “Bid the laird read through the archives with you. Look to the MacBren and his grievance with Tasgall and the clan. ’Tis possible you may spot what none of us could in the past.”
She nodded. “What are you going to do?”
He looked over at the white mist hovering nearby. “I shall combine my wits with Lady Torra’s. Between the two of us we ken more of magic than anyone in the spell trap.”
“I’m fine with that, as long as you don’t give your body to her.
” When he started to deny that she held up her hand.
“I know how heartbroken you’ve been since Inga died.
I went through the same thing when I lost my first love in my world.
He was killed in the line of duty, and it near about killed me.
There were days when it took all I had just to get out of bed and go to work. ”
It astonished him what she had endured even before coming here. “How did you find the strength, then?”
“I didn’t think about him or how tore up I was.
I worked. When I missed him I worked some more.
And when I didn’t think I could go another day without him, I pulled a double shift so I’d spend twenty-four hours working.
” She covered his big hand with hers. “It doesn’t seem like it now, but you will get through the pain and the sadness.
On the other side of this place, there’s someone good waiting for you.
Might just be me, but then, might just be someone else. ”
After Ava left, Rory watched the sky darken and lighten a few times.
She hadn’t said anything about the red-haired woman in his dreams, so he guessed she hadn’t shared those.
He hadn’t slept much since the bat attack, but lately he napped so he could see the lady of his dreams. He wouldn’t have much longer to do so.
Slowly he leaned back against a wall, and closed his eyes.
In the business section of the jumbo jet flying from Denver to San Francisco, Harper Ensley scrolled through the latest news from home.
Inflation was up, employment was down, and a reality show celeb was whining about how difficult their life was.
Evidently the enormous trauma of being wealthy, popular and privileged had directly resulted in their latest DUI.
Harper rubbed her tired eyes before she scrolled down to read the only article that really interested her: Amnesiac journalist found wandering naked in National Park.
The lurid piece implied the reason for the man’s condition had to do with drug use, sexual deviancy and possibly Satanism, which made her roll her eyes.
Whoever Jake Conor was, he had no friends at Monterey Today.
She made a note in the margin to check out the police report and see if it was anything worth her time to investigate.
One of the flight attendants stopped and leaned over to ask something, and held up a cheap throw and a small pillow cased in plastic.
“No, thank you,” she told the older woman.
Harper was glad when she moved on; that meant she’d correctly interpreted what she’d wanted to know.
That didn’t always happen, and lately she’d been getting worse at guessing.
Pretty soon she wouldn’t be able to travel anymore without a helper.
Switching off her tablet and the overhead light, she leaned back and closed her eyes.
It would be another four hours before they landed, and while it was difficult to nap on a plane she had a lot of video to edit when she got home.
Hogwash. You just want to dream of him again.
She didn’t care. What was wrong with fantasizing about her dark prince?
She’d made up the man, so it wasn’t like she’d ever meet him.
Only this time as she imagined him, he wasn’t working in a forge or handing out swords from an armory.
This time he was slumped on the ground, a big stone wall behind his back, with grime and soot streaking his ungodly handsome face.
Then he opened the most beautiful blue eyes she’d ever seen, and looked directly at her.
My lady, we need you. Hurry. Come to me.
Esme finished her surprise in time to find Darro just outside in the passage. She set down the bag with the things Ben Miller had given her, and smiled at her lover.
“I thought you’d be searching the castle to make sure we killed all the spiders,” she said as she walked into his arms.
“Lady Ava told me you’d come here, and I like you better than spiders.” He glanced past her. “What do you need do in the old buttery?”