Chapter Eighteen
“…and that’s how the giant Tur An Rog beat the invaders and kept his family safe for all time,” Cailean concluded.
As expected, Catriona made no response. To any untrained eye, she would just look as if she was sleeping peacefully.
Her expression was smooth, and her forehead unmarred by any lines of worry or unease.
Her chest rose and fell gently, and her hands were clasped together on her stomach. To any untrained eye.
But Cailean knew his daughter’s face better than he knew his own, and that look of peaceful sleep didn’t fool him.
She was gone far away, retreated so deep inside herself that what remained was only a shell.
Every time he looked at her, his heart clenched with mindless terror.
What if she never woke? What if she remained like this forever?
“Seems an age since I heard that story,” Maggie commented from where she was checking some of the patients on the other side of the room. “Not since I was a lass. It used to be one of my favorites.”
“It’s one of Cat’s too,” he replied. “Do ye think she can hear me?” He tried to keep his voice calm, assured, but he heard the tremor in it all the same.
Maggie straightened, her expression softening. “I’m sure she can, my laird. And I’m sure her da’s voice soothes her as she sleeps.”
Cailean hoped Maggie was right. He reached out and gently brushed his thumb across his daughter’s cheek.
“I have to go away for a little while, sweetling,” he said softly.
“Yer Aunt Rose and I think we may have found the cause of the sickness and a way to stop it. But I’ll be back before ye know it and then we’ll take Patch out for a ramble together, eh?
I know where there are mushrooms just coming up in the woods. ”
He leaned down and kissed her lightly on the forehead. Patch, curled up by Catriona’s feet as ever, got up, turned around a few times, and then slumped back down, head on his paws.
“Ye take good care of yer mistress until I get back, ye hear?” he told the little dog.
Maggie finished checking Drew’s pulse, pulled the sheet back up to the man’s chin, and came over to Cailean.
“I’m sure Patch, Beatrice, and I can manage while ye are gone, my laird,” she said, fixing him with a shrewd stare. “But I would be happier if I knew where ye were going.”
“That isnae something ye need to worry about,” he replied. “Ye will just have to trust me.” The last thing he wanted was anyone following him out there and falling prey to the angry god in the same way the people of Hemkirk had.
Maggie clearly didn’t like this answer. Her brows pulled down into a scowl. “Of course I trust ye,” she snapped. “Ye are our laird, aren’t ye? But when dealing with the old powers, ye need to be careful, take precautions. They canna be trusted.”
Cailean looked at her sharply. “How do ye know where I’m going has anything to with the old powers?”
Maggie rolled her eyes. “Look at me, lad. Do I look like some untried maiden to ye? I’m old, my laird, and I’ve seen a thing or two in my time.
I know that Rose spoke to Lir again. I felt her presence.
And that after that the two of ye have been as tight-lipped as clams. It doesnae take a seer to work out what’s going on. ”
Cailean sighed, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. He slumped on his stool, elbows resting on his knees, hands dangling.
Maggie laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve known ye since ye were a bairn, lad,” she said softly. “There was a time when ye used to talk to me when things were bothering ye.”
Cailean looked up, met Maggie’s eyes, and realized that she too was worried. Worried about him. About Catriona. About what he and Rose were planning to do. He wasn’t the only one with a lot riding on the success of this mission, he reminded himself.
“Rose and I are going to Hemkirk,” he said softly. “That’s where the source of the sickness lies.”
Maggie gasped out a breath. “So ye’ve found it then? The totem?”
Cailean shook his head. “It isnae a totem.” His eyes met Maggie’s. “It’s a prison.”
Haltingly, he told Maggie of what Rose had discovered. He told her about the stormlights, about what Lir had told Rose and that they planned to seal this prison so the god could not escape.
Maggie’s expression became more and more troubled as he spoke. By the time he’d finished his tale, she was as pale as a landed fish. “Ye canna do this!” she cried. “There must be another way!”
Cailean blinked, taken aback by her reaction. “There is no other way, Maggie. I would have thought ye’d be pleased we know of a way to combat the sickness.”
“Not like this!” she cried. “The price is too high! This clan needs ye, my laird. Catriona needs ye. And we need Rose too. We canna let ye sacrifice yerselves like this!”
Cailean rocked back in his seat. “Sacrifice? What do ye mean?”
Maggie wrung her hands. “Ye intend to seal the prison of a god! Only the strongest magic can achieve such a thing. Blood magic. Sacrifice. And that sacrifice must be made willingly.” She shook her head. “Dinna do this, Cailean. There must be another way!”
Sacrifice? Bood magic? What was she talking about? Rose hadn’t mentioned anything about blood magic.
Cailean suddenly went cold. Of course she hadn’t. Of course she’d made light of it, made it seem like her magic would be enough as it was. Because if she’d mentioned anything about a sacrifice, she knew he’d stop her.
He jumped from his chair and strode to the door, heart suddenly hammering. “Take care of Cat!” he yelled as he slammed the door behind him.
As he ran from the infirmary towards the keep, he could hear his blood roaring in his ears and feel his heart thumping against his ribs. Only the strongest magic. Blood magic. Sacrifice.
No. She couldn’t. He wouldn’t let her.
Reaching the keep, he raced up the stairs and pelted along the corridor until he reached her room. He pushed the door open without knocking and burst inside.
Rose turned in surprise from where she was standing by the window, holding a hairbrush in one hand. “Cailean? It’s not midday yet.”
“When were ye going to tell me?” he growled. “Or weren’t ye going to bother?” Were ye just going to leave me?
She paled a little but defiance flashed in her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Dinna lie to me, woman!” he bellowed, grabbing her arms. “Maggie explained it all. She explained that there is only one way to reset the old magic. Blood. Yer blood. Or do ye deny it?”
Her expression tightened. For a second she looked as though she was considering lying, but in the next instant, the defiance went out of her and tears gathered in her eyes instead. “There’s no other way, Cailean.”
“There’s always another way!” he roared. “Dear God, did ye really think I would let ye do this?”
“You can’t ‘let’ me do anything,” she said softly. “This is my choice, Cailean. This is what I came here to do.”
“I dinna give two shits what ye came here to do! I willnae let ye do this, Rose. I canna!”
“Even if it means saving your people? Saving your daughter?”
He recoiled as if she’d slapped him. “That isnae fair.”
Her shoulders slumped. “I know it isn’t.
But it’s the truth. The old magic has to be reset, Cailean.
It’s the only way to stop the sea god from breaking free and destroying Barra.
But the old magic was woven by a goddess, a being way more powerful than I am.
The only way I can even hope to match that power is by making a bargain.
And the only thing that will be acceptable is a life.
My life. My blood. That is how these things work. ”
Cailean stared at her, appalled. How could she speak of such things so calmly? Like she was discussing the weather? His heart was thumping so hard he thought it might break his ribs.
He strode over and placed his hands on her shoulders.
“Please,” he said. “Dinna do this.” He knew he sounded like he was begging but he didn’t care.
Hell, he’d go down on his knees if that’s what it took.
He was filled with a cold, gut-wrenching fear that filled his veins with ice and made it difficult to think. No. Not her. Please, God, not her.
He cupped her cheek in his hand. “I’m sorry, Rose. Forgive me.”
Then, before she could react, he slid his hand down, took hold of the thong around her neck, and snapped it with one quick yank. A key dangled from it. He strode out and pulled the door shut behind him. He’d locked the door before Rose had even realized what was happening.
She began thumping on it from the other side. “Cailean? What are you doing? Let me out this minute!”
Cailean pressed his forehead against the door and closed his eyes. That weight was back around his neck again, feeling heavy enough to crush him. “I canna lose ye,” he said, unsure whether Rose could hear him through the thick wood. “I love ye, Rose MacFinnan.”
Then he curled his fingers around the key and strode off down the corridor, ignoring Rose’s muffled shouts from behind him.