by Hazel Hunter
“No more gems except you guys.” Though the precious stones had been nice, now her heart started to race. This might be the clue they needed to understand what had happened to the old fortress. She had to get Domnall. “Be right back.”
On her way out she heard a metallic, scraping sound and glanced back to see the sunlight expanding. As the beam touched each statue the eyes seemed to blink and then glare at her. She almost laughed at herself, until the statue in the center of the chamber slowly lifted its arm to brandish its sword. The sight astounded her so much she couldn’t move. Then all the statues started to raise their weapons as if they meant to attack her.
The small snapping sound she’d heard when she entered the chamber hadn’t come from her.
It was a tripwire.
Keeping her eyes on them, Jenna snatched the small dirk from her boot and held the blade up the way Domnall had showed her. Carefully she took one step back, and then another. Whatever was in this chamber wasn’t worth getting hacked at by an army of medieval automatons.
“Sorry,” she told the glaring statues. “I didn’t mean to turn you on.”
Something whizzed from the midst of their pack and clanged against her blade with a bright spark. Though she managed to hang onto her weapon, something heavy bounced off it and sailed into the wall of the chamber. She glanced over to see it was an iron dagger. When she looked up the statues started coming at her, their iron feet pounding the stone floor.
Running out of the chamber, Jenna didn’t bother to look back. She got across the hall and flung herself into the outer passage, diving behind the wall just as a hail of blades flew through the opening. One sliced through the outside of her arm, cutting through her sleeve and gashing her flesh.
Quickly she shifted into ghost form, and passed through another wall, emerging in the outer ward. From there she ran toward the gap in the wall where she had entered the ruins. She had to get to Domnall and the men and warn them before the iron army escaped the castle.
She nearly ran smack into her lover as she jumped over the fallen stones. He tried to catch her, but his hands passed through her arms, making her realize she was still a wraith.
He appeared just as shocked. “Jenna, why did you go in there? Why did you change?”
“I did something really stupid,” she said as she took on solid form, and grabbed his hand. “But we need to run. Right now.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
As he saw the first of the iron warriors batter its way through the stone wall, Domnall snatched Jenna off her feet and ran. She clung to him as he shouted for his men, who came running from the camp to intercept them. All four stumbled to a stop and stared past him before they drew their swords.
“Scatter and climb,” Domnall shouted, dispersing them.
He could hear the pounding, grating footsteps of the iron men drawing closer, and stopped at the first tree with branches sturdy enough to support his weight and hers. He jumped, catching one over his head and swung up with her.
A sword smashed into the tree just below his boots.
Pushing her higher, Domnall took in the flood of warriors still marching out of the ruins. More than a hundred now, they began clustering around the trees where his men had climbed. As he’d suspected the iron men proved too heavy to follow. The few that tried broke the lower branches with their weight and fell.
The warriors went still, and then in unison began striking the trees with their swords. Huge chips of wood began flying as they hacked into the trunks.
“’Tis a storm coming,” Broden shouted to him. “I’ll run for the horses.”
Domnall peered up at the darkening sky. “Stay there,” he shouted back. “’Tis for me to do.”
“No,” Jenna said. “They’ll kill you the moment you’re in reach.”
As the tree shook beneath his grip, Domnall dropped down low enough to kick one of the iron warriors in the face. The thing fell backward and writhed on the ground, unable to rise until two others dragged it upright. Then it went still and didn’t move again.
“’Tis the moss,” Edane shouted from his perch in an oak tree.
Domnall looked at the unmoving iron man, who no longer sported any green on his head. The archer was right.
“Kiaran,” Domnall shouted, “we need your friends.”
The falconer let out a high, sharp whistle, and his kestrels dove at the warriors, snatching at the moss atop their heads. As soon as they removed it the iron man became a statue. The birds artfully dodged the swords swung at them as they did their work, until they had bared every iron head. Only when the entire army stood motionless did Domnall drop down and shove one of the statues over. It clattered to the ground like the lump of metal it was.
“Gods blind me.” Mael dropped down and crouched by one of the warriors. “They attacked as if alive and thinking.”
“Likely enchanted,” Domnall said and looked up at Jenna, relieved that she was safe. “That ’twas a very stupit something, Wife.”
“I know.” She climbed down, smiling wanly as he caught her and lowered her the last few feet. “I followed some gems into the ruins, and found the statues standing in a room filled with weapons. I think it was an armory.” Before he could speak, she held up her hands. “You win. This place is too dangerous for us. Let’s get out of here.”
A hard bang drew everyone’s attention to Edane, who crouched rapping the hilt of his blade against the chest of one of the warriors. “’Tisnae hollow, Chieftain. I reckon they’re solid iron.”
“Aye, and I’m grateful for it. Any lighter and they’d have come up the trees.” Domnall put his arm around his lover. “Gather the mounts, lads. I need but a moment with my lady.”
“Before you yell at me, look at these.” Jenna pulled several sparkling gems from her pocket, and placed them in his hands. “We can use them to build our home. There’s also a huge diamond that I left behind near the armory.” She met his gaze. “And of course we’re going to leave it there, so forget I said anything about it.”
“Diamonds mean naught to me.” He drew her close. “I love you, Jenna.”
She flung her arms around his neck, standing on her toes to kiss him. Her laughter parted their lips as he swept her off her feet and whirled her. When he put her back down, she picked up one of the warriors’ swords and presented it to him with a flourish.
“You should have a battle trophy,” she told him. “And whenever I don’t listen to you, you can swat me with it.”
“I’ll but hang it where you may ever see it,” Domnall said. “Mayhap over our bed.”
Jenna pulled the blade back. “Well, in that case, you’re going to have to work for it.” She trotted off toward the camp.
Domnall smiled as he went after her, and then a bolt of white lightning came down. It blasted Jenna into the air as a deafening boom shook the ruins. His joy turned to terror as he shouted her name and ran, only to be knocked off his feet by another jagged blast.
Rolling onto his back, Domnall looked up and saw the radiant winged demon spiraling down toward him from a mass of black clouds. The Sluath flung his hand up into the blackness, and then threw another bolt down, this time directed toward his hunters.
The world smeared around Domnall as he raced over to Jenna, who lay unmoving. When he turned her over he bit back a groan. Burns shaped like fern fronds covered one side of her face, while a terrible blackened wound marred the soft skin of her throat. Smoke rose from the bottom of her boots. He touched her throat, hoping the Gods would show her mercy, but felt nothing. Her heart had stopped.
She’s gone from me.
Rising to his feet, Domnall looked up at the Sluath, who had turned his attention back to him. The demon grinned at Jenna before he tossed another bolt down. Domnall seized the sword as he raced across the grass, vaulting onto the back of his mount and galloping into the air. He circled around the Sluath as it turned to pursue him, and then sharply doubled back. With every ounce of his fury he drove the iron blade at th
e demon.
The sword skewered the Sluath, who uttered a keening wail before dropping from the sky to flop on the ground. Quickly Domnall guided his mount down, and reached the demon while it yet lived. He took hold of the sword, yanking it from the creature’s gut.
“Where hide the rest of your horde?”
The Sluath gazed up at him looking perplexed for a moment. When he spoke, thick black fluid trickled from his mouth.
“Nowhere. Everywhere.” He uttered a sound like a wet chuckle. “Inside–”
More strange blood welled up from his throat, silencing him, and then the demon’s eyes emptied.
The hunters came to stand with him and watch the Sluath die. It did not go limp and unmoving like a human, but shrank and withered, its radiance extinguished, its beauty turned to hideous rot. The body continued to contract and decay until all that remained was a twisted lump of mottled ruin.
“That sword, ’tis pure iron,” Edane muttered. “And we thought them unassailable.”
“Burn it.” Domnall turned away and went back to his dead wife, falling to his knees.
Jenna stared up at a sky she could no longer see, her eyes reflecting the thinning clouds. The Sluath had killed her, but not her beauty. He stretched out beside her, taking her cool, still hand in his.
“You promised to go nowhere without me.” He brushed back the hair that had fallen across her face, taking care with each lock. “Now you’re beyond me, truly. I ken that I cannae go on without you.”
The world Jenna no longer walked dwindled around them.
As Jenna turned to the other slaves, she found Rosealise striding toward her. Deep furrows marked her forehead and dark circles underlined her eyes. But the intensity of her gaze held Jenna fast. The Englishwoman grasped her hands.
“You’re sure about it then?”
Jenna wished she could muster a brave smile, but she couldn’t. “I’ve never been more unsure of anything in my life.” Her gaze swept over the other slaves. “But this has to end.”
From beyond the confines of their latest cell came more shrieks of fear and cries of pain, until wild laughter roared above the clamor. Rosealise winced at the sound of the infernal braying they’d all come to know too well. Jenna squeezed the Englishwoman’s hands.
“We must fight them,” Jenna said. “There’s no other way.”
Rosealise gave her a lopsided smile. “Then we’ll jolly well have to do it, won’t we.” She glanced behind her and saw the other slaves nodding, then nodded herself. “Right. We’re with you.”
“The answer is at Dun Chaill,” Jenna said. “You must remember.”
The cell door opened and Domnall stood holding out his hand. “’Tis time, lass.”
Domnall felt Jenna’s grip on his hand tighten as they came out of the passage and walked onto the sky bridge. The summoned storm enveloped them in wild darkness, the enormous clouds billowing on every side. Lightning streaked over and under them, white and cold and merciless.
He turned to face her.
Knowing it might be the last time he ever beheld her, he looked his fill. The Sluath had dressed her in their strange linens woven of light. It made her appear as they did, glowing and magnificent, but her beauty was not trickery. She would forever be the loveliest thing he’d ever beheld.
“You’re my heart,” he said, bringing her hand to rest against his chest. “I love you. Remember that, luaidh.”
“You said you, not ye. I’ve corrupted you.” Her lips trembled as she gently stroked her fingers over one of his many wounds. “I don’t know if I can do this.” She met his gaze. “We could go together. We could try.”
Domnall wanted nothing more than that, but they had been warned. “’Twould end us, lass.”
“I’d rather die than…” She stopped and closed her eyes. “Please. Don’t make me go.”
“You cannae stay.”
He pulled her into his arms, bathing them both in the light of her Sluath gown. He understood how she felt, for he never wished to let her go again. He’d rather die than be parted from her forever.
A tall cloaked figure rose up from the clouds, and took hold of Jenna, pulling her away. “No more time. They’re waking. You must make the jump now. Jenna.”
She nodded, and uttered a sob. “Domnall, I love you. I’ll never forget.”
It took but a heartbeat. One moment Jenna was there, and then the cloaked demon touched her brow. Her eyes closed, and she vanished into the stream.
He dropped to his knees, his hands knotting against his temples, the pain tearing through him beyond anything he’d imagined. It was as if she’d wrenched his heart from his chest.
The cloaked demon hovered over him. “Now you, Mag Raith.”
Slowly he got to his feet, broken and defeated as he had never been. “I’ll never see her again.”
“That ’tis in the hands of the Gods.” The demon reached out to him. “Forgive me, Brother.”
He felt the cold hand on his brow, and the agony of losing Jenna slipped away, along with every other thought of his love. When he fell at last into the stream, he felt nothing at all.
“Chieftain.”
Domnall looked up to see Broden standing over him. The memory of saying good-bye to Jenna made sense of the fragmented vision they’d shared in his cottage back in the enchanted forest. It didn’t ease the rending despair of losing her again, this time to death, but it made him rise from her side. As Sluath slaves they had found love together. Once freed, they had found each other and loved again.
It had to mean something.
“We burned that facking skeg to ash.” The trapper looked down at Jenna with true sorrow in his eyes. “We should attend now to your lady.”
Domnall nodded. He couldn’t leave her here, where animals would tear at her. Nor could he bear the thought of putting her in the ground. He bent and lifted her into his arms, holding her close as he tried to think. His gaze kept straying to the tumbled walls of the ruins.
Take her inside. ’Tis where she would wish to rest.
Broden kept pace with him as Domnall walked toward Dun Chaill. “Edane gathered some of the moss Kiaran’s birds snatched from the iron warriors. ’Twas bespelled, but with magic of a kind he doesnae ken.”
“Bid him wash his hands,” Domnall said dully.
He stepped over the gap in the outer wall and carried Jenna into the passage. Walking through the twists and turns of the ruins, he found his way to the great hall she had described. He carried her to the very center of the room, where he gently placed her on the ground and closed her eyes. He would bring in more stones to cover her body and keep her safe.
Here she would always be part of their story.
But Domnall couldn’t leave her alone, and waited for the men to come and join him. They would all have kind words to say. He would endure them, for he loved his brothers of the hunt almost as much as Jenna. He would leave her in their care. Then he would build from the fallen stones a tomb for her body, and his own heart.
He shut his burning eyes and slowly bowed his head.
Never had his immortality seemed more–
“Domnall?”
Chapter Thirty
As Galan stabled his mount for the night in town, his thoughts returned again to the Sluath. If the legends were true, and he now suspected much of them were, the creatures could never take him. He’d kept himself inviolate. He had not shed a drop of blood in Wachvale. He would not have hurt the old crone, and she had deliberately ended herself. As long as he remained devoted to the Gods as a druid, he was untouchable. The demons might kill him, of course, but he would simply reincarnate.
He went up to his dingy room, where he created a spell circle on the pitted, stained floor. In the center he placed his traveling stele, and crowned it with a particularly rare crystal that helped him gather and restore his own power. To find the Mag Raith before Prince Iolar lost patience with him, he would need to do this nightly.
Galan carefully cleansed b
efore he stepped into the circle and prostrated himself. Yet before he could begin to beseech the Gods, all of the candles in the room abruptly extinguished, plunging him into darkness. He sighed and rose, going to close the window but finding it already latched.
Frowning, he turned around and squinted, raising his hand against a blinding light. Through his fingers he watched his precious crystal pulsing with power, as if it were soaking up every possible source within miles. Yet he had not yet channeled his magic into it, so what could be–
“No.”
Galan rushed forward, only to stumble back as the crystal shattered, scattering itself beyond the confines of the circle. All of the candles in the room flared back to life.
Such a thing happened only when the Gods had grown deeply displeased with a druid. He knew he should fall to his knees, and beg forgiveness for whatever transgression he had committed. But he had done no wrong.
Galan walked up to the spell circle, his boots crunching on the shards of his ruined crystal. In all of his lifetimes he had carefully skirted this moment, but now that it had come, he felt almost happy.
The Gods had sent a very clear message, and now it was time he did the same.
“I shall bring Fiana back to the mortal realm,” he said, his hands curling into fists. “I too shall learn the secret of immortality, so that we might dwell forever together. ’Tis the only justice for our suffering.”
The candles remained lit and steady. The shadows hemmed the walls of the room.
Enraged, he kicked over the stele. “You now turn against me? Then I must do the same to you. I refuse your blessings. I’ll never again bow before you. You hold no more dominion over me.”