With Xavier’s last ounce of magic, he attempted to reach out to Glenna via the oread’s bond.
Tell Avery to run. Tell her to go to Mistwood. If the oread responded, he didn’t hear it. Lachlan let Xavier’s face crash into the grass again, and then his boot came down on his temple and the lights went out.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Avery could barely see and was thankful that Tàirn seemed to know where he was going. Her eyes were practically swollen shut from the endless crying she’d experienced after leaving Xavier. Even now she sobbed as if she’d ripped out her own heart and left it in that cottage.
“Stop! Avery, stop!”
Avery tugged on the reins and brought Tàirn to a halt at the sound of Glenna’s voice. She knew it was serious when the oread flew at her, fully visible, and hovered at her side.
“Glenna, what’s happened?”
The oread looked positively distraught.
“Lachlan captured Xavier.” Glenna’s voice cracked. “He told me to tell ye to go on to Mistwood.” Tears glittered like diamonds on the oread’s cheeks.
Avery’s heart clenched. She turned Tàirn around.
“Didn’t ye hear me, mistress? He wants ye to go!”
“I heard you, and I will do as I please.”
To her surprise, Glenna gave her a barely perceptible smile.
“Do you have the sword? Do have Fairy Killer?” Avery asked.
A bundle of clothing and a scabbard appeared in Glenna’s arms, and the oread handed it all to her. Avery snatched up Fairy Killer and slung it over her head and shoulder, the blade verily singing to her from its scabbard. She wiped under her eyes and shoved Xavier’s clothes into her saddlebag.
“What do ye plan ta do?”
Avery smiled in a way that must have been chilling based on the expression on the oread’s face.
“I’m going to go save my mate.”
Tàirn seemed to understand the gravity of Avery’s situation because the stallion all but flew for the castle. She’d never ridden this hard or fast, and she clung to the horse’s mane, giving the magnificent beast full rein. By the time they reached the castle, she was sure her joints were going to come undone.
She slowed Tàirn and surveyed the road leading to the castle. People were drinking and singing, dancing in the street.
Without dismounting, she reached down and grabbed the collar of the closest man to her. “What’s going on?”
“Lachlan killed the dragon!” he said excitedly. His eyes locked on her face. “You’re that girl.” He drew his dirk and swung it in a wide, drunken arc toward her.
Avery’s blood ran cold. She caught his wrist and stopped the blade from reaching her. In her higher position on Tàirn, it would have landed in her gut or thigh. He opened his mouth as if to scream her identity to everyone around them, but she grabbed his bottom jaw with her opposite hand and squeezed. Tàirn stomped his feet at the shift of her weight in the saddle, but she used her legs to keep him in place.
All at once, Avery became aware of a tingle in her fingers, that same electric current she’d noticed when she’d opened Xavier’s cell. The man blinked rapidly up at her as if he were waking from a deep sleep.
“Where’s Lachlan?” she asked.
“Who are ye? What do ye want wi’ Lachlan?”
Avery’s eyes narrowed. The man’s pupils had gone from rheumy to clear, and he seemed to no longer recognize her. “Can you help me? I need to find Xavier.”
“Xavier?” He shrugged. “In residence at Castle Dunchridhe, I ken?”
“You know Xavier?” A flicker of hope ignited in her chest.
“Of course. He’s laird and chief of our clan. Ye have a strange way of speakin’, lass. Who are ye?”
At once she realized Xavier was right about her abilities. She was immune to magic and could use her power to break the spells over these men and women. And the best part was, once she did, they remembered.
She released him, then urged Tàirn forward. People in the crowd had started to recognize her. They pointed and seethed, reaching for their weapons. Avery grabbed the face of the biggest man she could find. To her pleasant surprise, it was Aeden, the bouncer from the Lion and the Hare. She breathed a sigh of relief as he shivered at her touch, then stared at her quizzically with clear brown eyes.
“Avery? What’s happened?” He looked toward the castle. “Lachlan… That fairy bastard!”
“You remember?”
“Aye.”
“Aeden, Xavier’s in danger. I need your help.”
Avery dismounted and, with Aeden’s help, hurried from man to woman—anyone she could touch—until she had a small army of supporters and had neutralized all those who recognized and wanted to kill her.
“Lachlan has captured Xavier, and I need your help getting him back,” she said to the group.
Aeden acted as translator, explaining her plan in a way they could understand. If you could call it a plan. Her best idea was for them to distract Lachlan while she snuck into the castle to save Xavier.
A redheaded woman at the front of the crowd shook her head. “How do ye expect us to defend ourselves against him, lass? I want to help Xavier as much as anyone, but the fairy’s had us all in his thrall for years. He’s too strong!”
The crowd murmured their agreement. Avery glanced at Aeden, but the big man’s gaze shifted to his toes. They were afraid. They should be. These people had only known peace thanks to Xavier. They weren’t soldiers, and their fear of fairies was well-founded.
Avery sighed. “This is dangerous, I know that, but we will win against Lachlan because… because…”
The crowd waited.
Closing her eyes, Avery inhaled a deep, cleansing breath and drew Fairy Killer from her scabbard. “I am Avery Tanglewood, and I am a powerful witch immune to fairy magic. It was my sorcery that freed you from Lachlan’s hold. I will protect you, but I need your help.”
A murmur crept through the crowd. She had broken Lachlan’s spell, and although they feared her magic, they also trusted in it. For several tense moments, Avery prayed their gratitude would outweigh their instinct to fear the unknown. Stories of witches burning at the stake filled her mind. But finally there was a collective nodding of heads.
“Aye. We’ll help ye,” the redhead said.
Avery’s plan was rushed at best. The idea was that the villagers would cause a commotion in the castle yard and yell for Lachlan, distracting the guards, thereby allowing her to sneak inside and rescue Xavier. But as they closed in on the castle, any hope of that scheme becoming a reality collapsed. A battalion of soldiers guarded the gate and Lachlan watched, waiting from the castle hoard. Beside him, a narrow-shouldered man stared absently over their heads.
“My dear friend Angus tells me a witch has come to Castle Dunchridhe to challenge my rule. Show yerself, witch!” Lachlan yelled down from above. A chill ran the length of her spine, and she exchanged glances with the men and women around her.
Aeden shook his head. “Angus MacKenzie. He must have seen what ye were doin’ and run to warn the bastard.”
Avery swore. She’d known the number of people she’d been able to touch and free from Lachlan’s hold was less than the number she’d initially seen in the street, but she’d thought the others had gone back to their homes or wandered off drunk. Now she knew the truth. Lachlan, the clever fairy, had a fail-safe.
She walked to the front of the crowd and drew Fairy Killer.
“I’m here, Lachlan,” she yelled. “I’ve come for Xavier.”
He sneered. “Well, if it isn’t the kitchen wench. I always knew there was something odd about you. You’re too late, lassie. Xavier is back where he belongs, and he’s going to stay there.” Lachlan focused on the others around her and said in a voice laden with magic, “Go back to your work. This has nothing to do with you.”
The power in Lachlan’s words was palpable as they washed over her and the people behind her. She closed her eyes, and the tingle
of it made her skin itch. Beside her, Aeden groaned.
She reached out and touched his wrist. “Fight it,” she murmured.
He shook his head, as did the others around her.
Avery smiled. Whether Lachlan was too far away or her magic had helped ward off his fairy powers, the villagers were still hers. She felt his influence blow away like dust on the next wind.
“Give us Xavier!” Aeden yelled, thrusting his sword in the air.
The others cheered him on, offering a collective chant for Xavier’s freedom.
Avery lifted Fairy Killer. “Free Xavier or die!” she bellowed.
The small crowd roared behind her. For a moment, Avery thought Lachlan might cave. His eyes widened and his mouth bent into a scowl as if he were legitimately shaken by his failure to subdue the crowd.
He answered her only with an intense, condescending stare. An evil smile spread across his face, too broad, showing too many teeth. She wondered what wicked thoughts had spawned such a grin, then learned the answer straightaway as Lachlan shoved Angus off the wall.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Deep in the dungeons of Castle Dunchridhe, Xavier lay naked on the stone floor of a dungeon cell. A blanket of chain mail fastened to the floor held him in place and painfully drained his energy. Eyes closed, all his thoughts turned to Avery. He hoped she’d made it to Mistwood safely.
He would be tortured with thoughts of Avery as he rotted in this stone tomb for the rest of eternity. Of lost opportunities. Of lost intimacies. He’d loved her like he’d never loved anyone or anything. In that instant, it occurred to him that he’d never properly thanked the goddess for bringing her into his life. Although his time with her had been too short, he would do it all again.
“Goddess of the Mountain,” he whispered hoarsely. He wished he could kneel, but he was too weak to raise his head from the floor. “Thank you for sendin’ Avery to free me from the dungeon and for every minute ye gave me with her. Also, if ye can see fit to send me help to get out of this mess, I’d be yer humble servant.”
He felt the air shift in his cell and forced his eyes to open. He could have sworn he saw a flash of gold, but there was nothing there.
And then a woman whispered in his ear. “I want Paragon. It is your war, Xavier.”
He tried to turn his head to see who it was but couldn’t move. “Who’s there?” he cried.
“By the Mountain, laird, quiet down. Ye’ll catch the attention of the guards if yer not careful.” Glenna appeared in front of him with a long metal bar in her hands.
“Glenna, careful. If ye touch the mesh, it’ll drain you,” he murmured.
She scoffed and dug the metal tool under one of the spikes holding the netting to the floor. “I have lived in this castle for two years without Lachlan being any the wiser to my presence. It helps, ye ken, bein’ a mountain nymph and able to merge into the stone. He doesn’t know I exist.”
“Thank the Mountain ye’re safe,” Xavier murmured weakly.
“Oh, shut yer fat head.”
The stake came loose, and she used the metal rod to toss it across the cell.
“Lachlan I can see underestimating me, considering he doesna know I exist. You have no such excuse, Xavier.”
“Huh?”
“Do ye ken this thing in my hands is from the kitchen? They use it to scrape the burned crud from the sides of the oven. I’m wishin’ I could use it on yer skull ’bout now.”
The second stake came free of the stone and clattered across the floor.
“It’s occurred to me ye might be miffed about somethin’, Glenna. Why not come right out and say it?”
“Ye have a bad habit of actin’ like ye’ve no one in the world to trust but yourself.” She hooked the rod on the corner of the chain links and peeled them back.
He took a deep breath, the relief from the removal of the netting feeling like pure heaven.
“Ye underestimate every woman in yer life. Me and that mate of yers, who is out there right now, facing Lachlan.”
“What?” Xavier’s stomach dropped and his gaze snapped to Glenna’s as he staggered to his feet.
She reached down and swept his clothes from the floor and tossed them at him. “Ye’d better hurry if ye want to kill him. She might get there first.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Angus!” Avery rushed forward, but the man lay in an oddly angled heap near the base of the castle wall. Blood oozed from his nose under empty, unseeing eyes. He was dead.
She lifted her gaze to glare at Lachlan. “Are you such a coward that you’ll kill a man in your thrall but won’t cross swords with a simple kitchen wench?”
His laugh was cold and cruel as he drew his blade. “If ye choose to die by the sword, who am I to deny ye?” He leaped down from the hoard and landed on the grass in front of the castle, some twenty yards from her. “Well, come take yer due, witch.”
Behind her, the castle guards rushed the villagers and the raucous howls and clangs of war raged around her. Once again, Lachlan had caused infighting amongst the clan. To stop it before someone else died, she had to kill Lachlan. She attacked.
Avery had always been stronger than most of her friends. At the bar, the staff would bet her on how many cases of beer she could carry up from storage, and she always won. She was also fast. For someone who only ran for fitness, she’d always been told she had a professional’s pace. Still, something had changed. She moved on Lachlan in a flash, Fairy Killer colliding with a clang that reverberated in the bones of her arm. She kicked him in the gut, leaped back, and thrust again.
How on earth did she know how to even use a sword? Avery hadn’t held a weapon like this in her life, but the connection she felt to this blade was undeniable. Fairy Killer became an extension of her arm. A part of her. As did the knowledge of how to use it.
The iron sword seemed to sing in her hand as she attacked. Her blade connected with his at the base. She swept the blade around, trying to disarm him. He retreated and parried, then thrust. She sidestepped, parried, and lunged for his neck. The razor-sharp tip nicked his throat.
Lachlan retreated, bringing his hand to the wound. Dark, mud-colored blood smudged his fingers. Avery watched fear slither into his eyes like a snake entering tall grass. That’s right—the kitchen wench could use a sword. At least this sword. She advanced. He stabbed and she dodged.
“Your hands are shaking, Lachlan,” she said. “Give me Xavier, and I’ll let you live.”
“Nay, witch, ’tis you who should be afraid. Time to sleep.” He leaped backward and thrust his hand into the dirt. Instantly, plants sprouted all around them, thicker between Lachlan and her. Avery had never seen anything grow so fast.
Clouds of crimson pollen exploded from the flowering sprouts. The sounds of battle behind her stopped abruptly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a few villagers attempt to outrace the explosion of red, running for the village. They didn’t make it. Neither did the guards. They all toppled like plastic soldiers. Aeden called her name before a fit of coughing consumed him and he succumbed as well.
“Aeden!” She ran into the crimson fog and crouched beside him, but a cursory inspection showed he wasn’t dead, merely asleep, as Lachlan had threatened. The dust was all around her now, painting her red, but unlike the others who dropped like flies and snored in a heap around her, the dust had no effect on Avery except to make her cough.
She covered her mouth and nose with one hand as the red dust coated her, turning her arms and skirts blood red. Through a crimson haze, she watched Lachlan, who was confidently smug with his hands in the dirt in front of the castle. Gripping Fairy Killer’s hilt tighter, Avery rose from a crouch. Pieces of her hair drifted in front of her face, bright red from the flower’s pollen. She must have been a sight. Even to her own eyes, the parts of her she could see looked doused in blood. Images of Carrie danced through her head, and just like the scorned prom queen, she intended to have her revenge.
Fueled by sheer determ
ination, she faced Lachlan and raised Fairy Killer. She took a step toward him, then another. Her legs felt heavy. The damn skirts—they were caked in pollen and mud, weighing her down. Suddenly it occurred to her she didn’t need them anymore. She untied the waist and pushed them off. When she stepped out of the cloud of pollen toward Lachlan, she wore nothing but her leggings and top and the knowledge she could not fail.
“What are ye?” Lachlan asked through his teeth, visibly shaken. He pulled his hands from the dirt and scrambled for his sword.
Avery could see he’d hit her with his best shot and missed. She wasn’t snoring like everyone else in a visible radius, and the weapon in her hand was still stained with his blood. She spread her lips into a wide, avenging grin. “I’m Xavier’s mate.”
She launched herself forward, thrust, parried, kicked, and ducked. Metal met metal, her arms flashing red in front of her. Clang, clang, clang. The sound rang out across the grounds with every strike, her arm aching from the force of each blow.
Mustering her strength, Avery backed Lachlan against the wall of the castle. He tried to dodge left, and she circled his blade with her own, twisting it from his hand. It fell from his grip.
Truly frightened now, Lachlan flapped his gossamer wings and flew straight up. The one thing Avery couldn’t do was fly. She swore as he rose out of her reach. Even if she could now rescue Xavier, they’d never rest as long as Lachlan was free.
A long, dark shadow blocked out the setting sun. Avery squinted against the light as the silhouette of a dragon rose over the castle.
Xavier!
Highland Dragon Page 20