CHAPTER 27
Chloe had lost track of all time. It seemed an eternity had passed being locked up in the dimly lit dungeon.
How long had it been? An hour? Two? A day?
Her stomach rumbled with hunger. They’d settled on the cold stone floor.
Chloe wrapped her arm around Evie. She’d dropped her head on her shoulder and was softly snoring.
Chloe was no closer to figuring out a way out of there than she was when they had first arrived. She thought of the stone in her pocket. She pulled it out with her free hand and stared down at it, resting it against her scarred palm. The lines were faintly glowing.
Evie’s hand rested in her lap with her fingers relaxed. Her palm was scarred, too. Like hers. Idly, she wondered if—when—Brianna arrived if she would have the same scarring on her palm. Chloe was certain her older sister’s arrival was inevitable.
She peered around the small, dank cell. On the far wall, the three-legged stool. Next to it, the chamber pot. The torch still blazed in the bracket by the door. How long did they expect them to rot in his hellhole?
Forever, likely. Bruce didn’t care what happened to her. He only wanted the keystone.
There was a faint humming coming from Evie’s pocket. Her stone.
Footsteps were forthcoming. She clutched the stone in her fist and nudged her sister.
“Wake up, Eve. Someone’s coming.”
Evie startled awake instantly. Together, they got to their feet.
“They’re coming for the stones,” she whispered. “Aren’t they?”
Chloe nodded. It was the only possible reason. She bit her lower lip, refusing to voice the terrible thoughts floating through her mind. She didn’t want to worry her sister even more than she already was.
The door scraped open, and Bruce stepped inside.
He stood in the doorway, the light at his back, making him nothing more than a tall, menacing, faceless figure outlined there.
Chloe remained where she was, clutching the stone in her hand and trying to ignore the faint hum of Evie’s stone.
She pushed her sister behind her. Evie didn’t even protest as she allowed Chloe to be the buffer between the two of them.
“Have you come to your senses yet?” Bruce asked. His gaze flickered from her face down to her clenched fist. “Will you willingly give up the keystone?”
“Why do you want it so badly?” she countered, lifting her chin a little higher. “What can you possibly do with a chunk of worthless rock?”
Behind her, she sensed Evie stiffen. If her sister knew her—and she did—she’d realize she was stalling for time and trying to needle information out of him at the same time.
A slow, annoyed smile played upon his lips. “Do ye think it’s worthless?”
“Isn’t it?” She tried to sound as defiant as possible.
“It brought ye here, didn’t it? It brought us both here.”
A fact she didn’t want to remember. He’d physically attacked her, clawed at her hand trying to get the stone from her. It was only when she had landed here, in the past, that she was safe from him. Thanks to Malcolm. He was her warrior who liked to seem more dangerous than he truly was.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Chloe snapped, shoving aside the thoughts.
“Why I want it is no concern of yers.”
“They will come for us,” she said, then, thinking of Malcolm and Callum.
“Oh, I certainly hope they do.” His smile was terrible. He held out his hand. “Give it to me and no harm will come to ye or yer sister.”
Chloe remained still. “No.”
“Ye give me no choice then.”
He snapped his fingers. Two men entered the dungeon and headed right for Evie. They took her by the arms as she protested the entire time.
“Leave her alone, Bruce! Let her go.”
“She has one of the stones. Search her,” Bruce said to his two henchmen, ignoring her.
“With pleasure,” one said, an oily smile on his face.
“Stop!” Evie snapped. “You can have it.”
“No, Eve!” Chloe gasped.
Her gaze flickered to hers and she saw something in Evie’s eyes she hadn’t seen before. Defeat. Evie wrenched her arm free from one of the men and stuck her hand in her pocket, intending to hand over her piece of the keystone.
“It’s easier this way,” Evie said quietly.
Chloe was shaking her head.
“See, there? Yer sister has come to her senses.” Bruce held his hand out to Evie. She dropped her piece of the keystone—which was still humming—into his palm. Then he turned to her. “Now, hand over yers.”
Blood magic. Use the stone. The words whispered through her mind in a familiar voice. If she didn’t know any better, it sounded like Bridget.
For a moment, indecision paralyzed her. Hand over the stone and let Bruce win. Or use the stone and defeat him. But how?
Blood magic, the voice said again.
Even her sister believed blood magic was the only way to defeat Bruce and the MacDonalds and get out of the dungeon.
I’ll find a jagged stone or something.
That’s what Evie had said to her. But didn’t they have their own jagged stones? Even now, as she clenched her hand tighter, she felt the prick of the edges of the stone. Perhaps they would be sharp enough to slice open her hand. Not a deep cut. Just enough to make her bleed.
“Give it to me, Chloe!” he demanded, his voice harsh and cold.
As she stared at Bruce, all the anger and the pain of betrayal hit her full force. She despised his face and everything about him. He was nothing more than a liar. He’d used her. And the worst part was she’d thought she was in love with him.
She should have been more like Evie. She should have listened to her gut instincts, but she hadn’t. She’d allowed herself to get carried away with her emotions and fall for the handsome Scot.
“Did our time together mean nothing to you?” she fired back, allowing herself to feel that torrid anger. “Were you using me to get what you wanted?”
His expression hardened as though he didn’t want to think about their time together in the future. He dropped his hand and clenched his jaw, the muscles working along the edge.
“Ye try my patience, lass. Don’t make me take it from ye by force,” he said.
“You told me you loved me,” she continued, thinking of all those moments they had together. “You said you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me. It was all a lie, wasn’t it?”
“I—”
“All you want is this jagged piece of stone.” She opened her palm and glanced down at it to see the lines were not only glowing, but pulsating. “You were the one who chased Evie up those stairs in the museum that night. You were the one who attacked her. Because you knew what she had.”
“Chlo?” Evie’s timid voice whispered through the darkness behind her. “What are you doing?”
“Aye, what are ye doing, lass?” Bruce said, his Scottish brogue coming out thicker. “Give me the bloody stone and let’s be done with this walk down memory lane.”
“I will do no such thing.”
Then she moved lightning fast. She swiped the jagged edge of the stone down her palm, splitting the skin. Blood oozed. Then she clutched the stone in her palm and dropped to her knees. Immediately, the stone started to glow, the light seeping through her fingers.
A feral, raw power pulsed in a wild beat, shooting through her. Warmth spread through her as though she had taken a shot of whiskey. It pounded through her, making her ears throb and her eyesight swim. Bruce shouted something.
Use the magic, the voice said. Bridget’s voice.
Chloe lifted her fisted hand and pounded it against the stone. The floor and walls shook, vibrating outward from her hand as though she were the epicenter of an earthquake. Shouts. Evie’s scream. Chloe pounded her first against the floor again and again and again.
The next thing she knew, she was on her back looking up into Evie’s worried face. She was speaking to her, but her voice was muffled. It was as though something had burst her eardrums, and she was in a deep, dark tunnel. She shook her head and tried to speak but couldn’t.
She forced a yawn and popped her ears. Everything was back to normal.
“—hear me?” Evie sounded frantic when she said it. Her face was pinched with worry.
Finally, Chloe nodded.
“You scared the life out of me!”
Evie grasped her by the arm and helped her up. She shook her head to clear it and looked around the cell. The door was closed and they were alone once again. She uncurled her hands to see blood smeared along the glowing lines of the keystone.
“Where?” she croaked but her throat was raw, and it hurt to talk.
“They left. You scared them pretty good.” Evie chuckled, then she turned serious. “How did you…”
“I heard Bridget in my head,” she said then, her voice stronger than before. “She told me to use the blood magic.”
“You sliced your hand with the stone,” she said, her voice full of awe. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
“I don’t remember much after that.”
“When you hit the ground, your hand glowed bright white,” Evie said. “You pounded the floor. The walls and ground shook so violently, the men scurried from the cell as though the devil himself chased them. One called you a witch.”
A natural response to seeing something so unusual. Magic did not exist here. Or shouldn’t. But the little piece of stone in her hand was evidence.
“Bruce will be back. Chlo, he has my stone.”
Chloe frowned. She had forgotten Bruce forced Evie to hand over her piece of the keystone. Now they had to figure out a way to get it back. As she glanced around the dungeon, she saw hairline cracks in the stone walls.
“We need to bandage your hand,” Evie said.
The sound of ripping caught her attention. She turned to see her sister ripping a strip of cloth from her shift.
“You don’t want an infection.”
She made a motion for her hand. Chloe obliged. Evie plucked the keystone out of her hand and dropped it in her pocket, then used the strip of cloth to wrap around her cut. She tied it off.
“I think there’s a way out of here.” She eyed the cracks in the wall.
“How? They’ll never let us go after that show of magic. Bruce will want to keep you under lock and key until he can make you use that keystone for him.”
“I’ll never do that.” The fierce words exploded through her.
Feeling stronger, she stomped over to the three-legged stool and picked it up. She wasn’t sure it would work, but she was willing to try. She swung the stool as hard as she could at the wall. A loud crack sounded. One of the legs broke off.
“What are you doing?” Evie asked.
“Finding a way out.”
Chloe swung the stool again. This time when she hit the wall, the mortar crumbled a little, and pieces of stone rained down. She looked at Evie, triumph pounding through her. It was going to work. Evie glanced around the dungeon looking for something to use.
“Not the chamber pot!” Chloe said. “That’s gross.”
She flung the stool at the wall over and over. Until there were more shards of mortar and stone raining down. Until there was a larger crack. Until the wall gave way and there was a small opening.
Cool, dank air whooshed through it. Evie gasped. Chloe moved closer to peer through the crack. There was a chamber beyond.
No. Not a chamber. A passageway. Odd place for a passageway.
She glanced down at her bandaged hand. Blood seeped through the material.
“I know what I have to do,” she whispered. “Give me the stone, Evie.”
“What? No. Why?”
She spun to face her sister. “Give it to me and I’ll show you.”
As Evie pulled the stone from her pocket, Chloe untied the knot. Her hand still oozed.
She wasn’t sure if she could recreate the magic, but she was going to try.
The lines were still glowing. Her blood was still smeared across it.
She clenched it tightly in her hand, closed her eyes and let the magic of the stone push through her.
It shot up her arm, to her shoulder, across her chest and down her other arm. Then flooded the rest of her body.
Evie sucked in a breath.
When Chloe opened her eyes, her hand was glowing like before. With all the force she had, she punched the wall at the crack.
A low rumbling, followed by a vibration, and the wall crumbled and gave way, revealing a doorway and a secret passage.
“Oh, my God, Chloe!”
She wobbled on her feet, weakened from the magic. Evie was at her side in an instant, taking the stone from her hand, and pocketing it once more. Chloe suspected since the blood on her palm merely oozed, the power wasn’t as strong as before. Evie wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“Can you walk?” she asked.
“Yes. Now, let’s find your keystone.”
“Wait.” Evie clutched her arm. “Shouldn’t we have some sort of a plan before we go in there?”
Chloe worried her lower lip. “The plan is to get your keystone and get out of the castle.”
“Oh, easy, huh? How are we going to find it? Once we do, how do we get out?”
All valid questions. Ones for which she did not have an answer.
“One step at a time,” she said. “We’ll find Bruce. He won’t let it out of his sight.”
Evie peered into the darkness of the passageway, apprehension in her gaze as the cool breeze ruffled the sprigs of hair around the side of her head. Her braid hung over one shoulder, the plaits loosened. Fatigue lined her face. There were dark circles under her eyes.
It was a lot to ask of her, Chloe knew. But she was certain it was the only way. They could wait for Malcolm and Callum but that could be days. She didn’t want to wait any longer. They were no ordinary medieval women, after all.
Bruce had left behind the torch. It still rested in its bracket by the cell door, flickering with its yellow-orange light. She hurried over to it and lifted it out, carrying it back to the opening.
“Hold my hand,” Chloe said. “It will be like when we were kids doing something we knew Mom and Dad wouldn’t like.” She flashed a smile to reassure her sister.
“But we don’t even know where this goes.”
“No, we don’t,” she agreed. “We’ll find out together. If it leads nowhere, we’ll come back.”
After a long moment of silent indecision, Evie grasped her by the hand. Together, they stepped through the door and entered the passageway.