Chapter 23
Chapter
Twenty-Three
PORTIA
We stumbled onto cold grass. The world spun, and I would have fallen if Tavish and Albie weren’t still gripping me.
“We’re together,” I gasped, relief loosening my knees. The auld stones loomed before us, the monoliths stark gray against the star-filled sky.
Wind howled around the circle, and Tavish tightened his grip around my waist as it tore at our hair and clothes. It cut through my thin sleep shirt and shorts, raising goosebumps on my skin.
“Are you all right?” Tavish yelled over the noise.
I nodded, but my teeth chattered, and the wind pulled tears from my eyes. Albie kept a firm grip on my hand as he squinted up at the stones.
“What time are we—?”
A crash cut him off.
The three of us spun toward the sound. One of the trash cans from the tourist picnic area tumbled across the ground, spilling paper cups and plastic cutlery across the grass. The wind caught several cups and spun them into the air like confetti.
A fresh wave of relief washed over me. We hadn’t skipped time, just locations.
The wind spun faster. A hum filled the air. When we swung back to the stones, the buzz grew louder.
“I wish I could contact my parents!” I shouted over the screaming wind. “They need to know—”
A shadow passed overhead, blotting out the moon.
I looked up.
A massive golden dragon descended from the sky, wings spread wide.
Fire gleamed in his eyes, and twin rows of black horns curled back from his head like a crown.
He landed, and the ground shuddered under my feet.
He dwarfed the stones, and his claws dug deep furrows in the earth.
He was beautiful and terrible, a massive killing machine.
Dad.
Smoke coiled around him as he shifted, his dragon form dissolving into shadow until King Cormac stood barefoot and shirtless before us, golden fire swirling in his eyes.
“We sensed the disturbance,” he said, his deep voice carrying over the wind.
Two more dragons landed behind him.
Mum touched down in a shimmer of emerald scales, her horns glinting as she tossed her head. Da landed beside her. His scales were black as midnight, his body sleeker than my dad’s but no less deadly.
Mum and Da shifted together, and Da raised his hand. Water droplets rushed toward him and spiraled around him and Mum in shimmering twin columns.
Then they…changed, weaving and twisting together until they solidified into clothing. A simple blue dress clung to Mum. Trousers circled Da’s hips and legs, settling against his skin as if they had always been there.
Awe held me immobile. I’d seen my father use his water magic before, but never like this.
He lowered his hand, and the wind stopped. Not gradually or slowly. It died, succumbing to his silent command. Because he absolutely commanded it—along with all the other elements he’d wrested from my great-grandsire.
Silence crashed over the stones, the lack of noise so sudden that my ears rang.
Da turned his dark eyes on me. “Now,” he said quietly, his voice carrying in the stillness. “Tell us what’s happening.”
I stepped forward. “I don’t know. Maybe I have to finish something.”
My mother frowned. “Finish what?”
The wind started up again, snatching my reply from my lips. A loud hum swelled and then pounded like a heartbeat, the vibration shivering up my legs and into my jaw.
My fathers moved in front of Mum. Everyone whipped around, our gazes on the stones.
The hum grew louder, each beat slamming against my eardrums. The air between the stones rippled like water.
Beside me, Albie cried out. He doubled over, his hands flying to his face as if he tried to hold his head together. His glasses tumbled from his nose and hit the grass.
“Albie!” I screamed. Tavish and I lunged for him at the same time.
The hum surged. An invisible force slammed into my chest, knocking me off my feet. I hit the ground hard, striking my hip and elbow. Tavish crashed down beside me with a grunt.
Across the clearing, Dad roared and tried to rise. His muscles strained, and he made it to one knee before the vibrations hammered him back down.
Mum sprawled on the grass, blinking like she was stunned. Da was on his hands and knees, his teeth bared and power crackling around him as he fought the invisible force crushing us all to the earth.
But even he couldn’t stand against it.
Albie lay facing me on the ground, his knees to his chest and his face contorted in obvious agony. He shook as he clutched at his damaged eye, scar tissue peeking between his fingers.
“Albie!” I shouted, flipping to all fours. I tried to crawl toward him, but it was like treading wet cement. Pressure filled my lungs. The hum filled my head.
Light flickered in the space between the stones. Not the pale blue I’d seen before but something hotter and brighter.
Fire.
It crackled down the center of the space between the stones. Thunder boomed, and the portal tore open. Gold and white flames spread from the rent and raced toward the edges.
The wind screamed. My hair lashed my cheeks.
A woman stepped through the fire and onto the grass.
The wind stopped. The pressure lifted, and I dragged in a breath as I stared up at the woman.
She was tall and ageless, with skin that looked as if it had been painted with gold.
A simple white gown gathered at her shoulder and descended to her feet.
White hair floated around her head in thick coils.
At first, she appeared radiantly beautiful.
But the longer I looked at her, the harder it was to determine her features.
Studying her was like staring at the sun.
I could only get a glimpse before my eyes stung and I had to look away.
But I kept coming back, looking at her over and over because it was impossible not to. I stared, some deep, primitive instinct warning me that looking into her eyes meant certain death.
At the same time, calm radiated from her, soothing the sting of her power.
Her gown fluttered in a gentle breeze that didn’t ruffle the grass around her.
She turned her head slowly, taking in my dad helping my mother to her feet and Da rising with murder in his eyes.
Tavish scrambled across the grass and knelt next to Albie, who gasped on his side like he couldn’t catch his breath.
The woman rested her gaze on Albie, and the wind around her sighed. Then she looked at me.
Power caressed my skin. Every hair on my body lifted. I fixed my stare on her chin, and I knew I was as helpless to resist her as I’d been the night the portal dragged me to 18th century Scotland.
“I am Asmira,” the woman said, her voice like a warm, flowing river. “The mouthpiece of the gods.”