Knoydart Peninsula, Scotland – March, 1946
“No.” King Domhnull held up a hand. “Nicol is dead. I felt it.”
“But, Your Majesty, you’re aware my kind can manipulate connections. Any one of the Guards with Prince Nicol could’ve severed his connections to you and everyone else. It would feel the same as if he’d died.”
My gut—filled with rage and betrayal—was telling me Kinnon had to be responsible for the attack. He would never have allowed the entire contingent to stop and get out of their cars at once, unless he’d been the one to order it.
I held up the dèideag dìon. “We have a witness. If I could take a team of Guards—”
He scoffed. “Look how small they are. Nicol obviously didn’t care for them while he was away, and they haven’t Become enough to know what they’re saying.” Beside him Adair nodded in agreement.
I opened my mouth to explain my theory about the dèideag dìon giving their magic to Prince Nicol, but the King made a slashing motion with his hand.
“Enough. Nicol is dead. Searching for his killers won’t bring him back.
It will only delay the portal closing. We must focus on getting the last of the Wonders through the portal and the magic gifted to the humans as planned.
Then we’ll never have to see this abominable world again. ”