Chapter 9
The barefoot man had been summoned.
She wanted to talk to him.
Around him the nocturnal animals shied away. Rabbits darted into the undergrowth as he passed, bats sensed his presence and shifted their flight path.
The wind was the only thing willing to draw near, cutting through him though he did not feel the cold. The only thing he felt was anger.
He was supposed to be supervising his army. His men were spread across the highlands. They entered the bleakest of valleys, the most dangerous taverns, the towns and the country.
They listened to all the rumors and then fed the information directly back to him. They were waiting for his signal. When it came they would finally get to slake their bloodthirst, go on the rampage and slaughter all those who opposed him.
First, he needed the key. No doubt that was why she had summoned him. To remind him of what he already knew. He touched the dagger under his cowl, wondering whether he should just kill her and have done with it.
He laughed at the idea. If he could have done that, he’d have done it years ago. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried to murder her. She’d survived wounds that would kill the strongest men, barely stopping to draw breath before continuing to berate him.
He walked through the heather, passing into the dark wood behind the castle, the one place where no one ever went.
The rumors were that the place was filled with dark magic, that none who entered ever came out alive. He did not pause before pushing through the undergrowth, burying himself in the darkness of the wood he knew like the back of his hand.
The cave was in the middle of the wood, hidden from all but the most skilled eye behind huge growths of stinking plants that seemed to move against the wind, not with it.
He shoved his way past them and into the cave, having to duck to fit through the narrow passage that opened out into a large unnatural chamber in the middle of the network of tunnels.
At the far end of the chamber were the rough-hewn steps that descended into the darkness. He went down them quickly, wanting to get this over with.
A minute later he stepped out into another chamber. The stairs continued down but there was no point going down there yet, not until he had the key.
“You’re late,” a voice said from the shadows.
“And you’re keeping me from getting the key.”
“Dinnae talk to your mother like that. Show some respect.”
“What do you want?”
“Drop that tone. I’m not the one who let three keys slip through his fingers. Need I remind you that time is of the essence?”
She emerged from the darkness, a spark flashing from her finger toward a candle which spluttered and then glowed into life, smoke curling upward toward the ceiling of the chamber.
The light was enough to illuminate her last sacrifice, the entrails still dripping from the blood table onto the floor. “Now you lose another key and time is running out to get this done. He will not last much longer.”
“If you hadn’t called for me, I’d have the fourth key in my hand right now. Any minute someone will spot the two of them.”
“They’re on Knife Island.”
He frowned. “How did they get there?”
“Because he’s trying to help them.”
The barefoot man spat on the floor. “Still interfering. It’s too late. I have my entire army out looking for them. They won’t get far.”
“Send a fleet across the island. We must get that key.”
The ground shook under their feet. “I will have it before the end of the day.”
“And when you get it, dinnae try swanning off to the future like a fool who can go his own way. You have a destiny, like it or not.”
“Listen to me old crone-”
The ground shook again, this time strongly enough to send him off balance. He fell to the floor as his mother stood over him, pointing a bony finger toward his chest.
She coughed, spitting onto his face as she did so. “Dinnae let your heart rule your head. Once your father is free, we will have all the time in the world to take over. You’ll be able to unlock any door you wish and go to any time. First we must have one of the six keys.”
“I know that,” he said, climbing back to his feet.
“And yet you’ve already lost three.”
“I didn’t lose them. I merely…misplaced them.”
“You were bested by three generations of MacGregors. Think with your head. To think I sired such a fool, it shames me to my core.”
“Don’t you trouble yourself, I will get the key.”
“You sound very sure and yet here you are empty handed yet again.”
He swore under his breath. “Anything else?”
“Do you even care about doing this or do you just want to go through time seducing pathetic little harlots?”
“Of course I care. Why do you think I’ve spent so long tracking down the keys? For the sake of my health?”
“All I know is you tried using that Tabitha woman to get hold of the key and you let your guard down and here we are, still living in a cave, your father still trapped.” She prodded him in the chest.
He shoved her backward, smiling as she fell to the floor. “I’ll get the key,” he snapped. “I’ll free him and together we will burn the world. Perhaps I’ll even get to burn you. If swords and poison can’t kill you, maybe his fire can.”
“Your father loves me. Unlike you.”
“Love? What do you know of love?”
“I know it’s nothing like they say out there. It’s dark and miserable and it hurts and I miss its caresses. We vowed to free your father. Did we not?”
He nodded, trying to resist punching her smiling face. “We did.”
“It was an ancestor of the MacGregors who made the key that holds your father to this day.”
“I know that. Why are you telling me that?”
“Because you seem to have forgotten what the MacGregors are capable of. You underestimate them every time you set forth into the highlands.”
“How could I forget? I watched them bind him and lock him away a thousand years ago, those druids mouthing their obscene verse all the while. I saw them melt the key, leaving him trapped with no way out. I watched with my own eyes as they melted the key down and made six more.”
“Six keys into the hands of the druids.” She was muttering to herself.
“Six keys. Six chances to free him.” She looked up, her watery eyes fixing on him, some of the old power flashing outward, sending sparks into the air.
The effort drained her and she slumped downward.
“You threw away three chances for him to come back.”
“You should be more grateful. I helped the MacCallisters, like you said. I scattered the MacGregor Clan like you desired. Within a generation they’ll be wiped out.”
“They’re like cockroaches. They’ll hide and multiply and they have him on their side. What do we have? An incompetent son who can’t get hold of one small silver key no matter how many chances he’s given.”
He’d heard enough. His fist flew through the air in a blur. She was already gone, vanished back into the shadows. He was alone in the cave. Far below him, he felt more than heard a deep growl. The floor shook once again.
“You will soon be free,” he said, placing a hand on the cave floor.
“It was their bloodline that did this to you. It will be with spilled MacGregor blood that you are freed. Either the fleet will catch him or he will bring me the key willingly I have made a deal with him to give him back his father. He knows not that I have no intention of honoring it.”
He laughed and though the only sound was his own voice, as he left the cave, he could have sworn he heard someone else laughing. The laughter came from deep underground. It was a sound to chill the blood of the bravest man.
It made the barefoot man smile.