by Baker, Katy
“Finn,” he gasped. “I have to get to that ship.” His voice was little more than a rasping croak.
His uncle spared him a glance and nodded in understanding. “Aye. But the cost will be bloody.” He called to a knot of men who were fighting around them, good men that Ross had known all his life, men who had families waiting for them in Dun Ringill. “Clear a path!” Finn shouted. “Fall in around the laird’s son! Clear a way to that ship!”
The men did as Finlay commanded and soon Ross found himself at the head of a knot of warriors who began carving a path through their attackers. Inch by painstaking inch, they began moving towards the shadow ship.
“WATCH OUT!” LIA CRIED.
At the last possible moment Maggie ducked and a sword blade passed through the space her head had occupied a moment ago. Annoyed, the raider growled something in a language Lia couldn’t understand whilst Maggie quickly scrambled away. Together she and Lia edged backwards, towards the river bank.
The raider grinned, following them. The way he looked them up and down, lust in his eyes, made a shiver go down Lia’s spine.
“Give it up,” he said in a thick Irish accent. “There’s nay need for ye to get hurt. I promise I’ll be gentle.”
But even as he said the words, he sprang forward, his blade swinging towards Maggie. She jammed her dagger up just in time and the weapons met with a loud clang. Lia glanced around, desperately looking for a weapon. She’d lost the dagger she’d brought from Dun Ringill in their first skirmish. She grabbed a thick branch that was bobbing in the shallows at the river’s edge, then thumped the raider in the back of the head with all her strength. The man’s eyes glazed over and he slumped onto his face in the dirt, moaning softly.
“Come on!” Lia grabbed Maggie’s hand and together they fled into a dense screen of thorn bushes. The thorns snagged Lia’s clothing and gouged scratches down her arms but she barely noticed. Fear and adrenaline drowned out everything but the need to reach that ship.
Three times they’d run into trouble. Three times they’d somehow managed to get clear, either by dumb luck or Maggie’s skill with a blade. Now, as they scrambled through the thorn bushes, they saw no more raiders, as if even they didn’t want to be close to the shadowy ship.
They drew level with it and hunkered down for a moment, breathing heavily. Maggie had a cut along her wrist that was bleeding badly. Lia tore a strip from the hem of her tunic and bound it up as best she could before turning to peer out between the branches of their hiding place.
Directly ahead, in the middle of the river, the shadow ship bobbed at anchor. Nothing moved on its deck but the slowly coiling mist. Lia could see no crew, no captain. It looked utterly deserted.
“Come on.”
Together she and Maggie crept out of their hiding place and down to the water’s edge. The coiling mist muted even the sounds of the battle, making it seem far away.
Maggie looked around warily. “How are we supposed to get aboard?”
“Swim.” Lia didn’t like the look of the swirling water one bit but the ship was too far out to be able to wade, and they didn’t have a boat.
“And then what?” Maggie demanded. “What do we do when we get aboard?”
Lia hesitated. The ship seemed to swallow all light and she could feel the malevolent presence on board. Waiting. She knew what she had to do. She’d known it from the first moment she realized what the ship was. Fear threatened to paralyze her but she beat it down mercilessly. She could do this. She could do it for her new friends.
For Ross.
“You have to trust me,” she said, meeting Maggie’s eyes.
Maggie held her gaze for a moment before finally nodding. “Lord, I really have gone mad. Come on then, before more of those bastards spot us.”
The river was so cold that its touch bit into Lia like iron jaws. She and Maggie swam as quickly and quietly as the freezing water would allow, not wanting to alert anyone of their approach.
They reached the ship’s ladder and paused, bobbing in the water while they listened. Nothing. No sound came from above. Maggie went up the ladder first, disappearing over the side and then reappearing and waving Lia up. The cold had sapped all the strength from Lia’s limbs and she could hardly move her fingers to curl them around the wooden rungs but she crawled her way up and Maggie helped her over the side and onto the deck where they crouched, looking around warily.
Lia expected guards to come running but they didn’t. There was no sign of life at all. Maggie nodded towards a door that led below decks and they crept across the deck on cat’s paws. Again, they paused. Still nothing. Yet, as she strained her ears Lia thought she could make out a low hum, like the drone of bees. It was coming from the bowels of the ship.
She reached out and grabbed the door handle. Almost as if her touch had set off an alarm, the door suddenly burst open. Two warriors rushed out, blades drawn. Lia staggered back with a cry, falling onto her backside on the rough deck. One of the warriors, a short, squat man with a bull neck gave a feral snarl and started towards Lia. Lia threw an arm up to protect herself but the warrior’s blow never landed. Maggie’s blade suddenly burst through his chest.
“Go!” the woman cried as the second warrior rushed at her. “I’ll keep him busy!”
Lia watched in horror as Maggie was suddenly fighting for her life against a man almost twice her size.
“Go!” Maggie screamed. “Do what ye need to!”
Lia scrambled to her feet. She couldn’t help Maggie but if she achieved her aim, maybe she could end this madness. She hurried through the door and down a set of creaking steps into the hold. As she stepped inside she stopped short with a gasp.
A single lamp illuminated the hold. No cargo filled the large space. Instead, the floor was taken up by a chalk circle decorated with strange symbols.
And inside that circle sat a wizened old man with eyes as black as onyx.
The Fae watched her, his hands folded in his lap. “About time. I’ve been waiting for ye, Lia.”
A cold that had nothing to do with the freezing water she’d just swam rushed through Lia. As she looked into those midnight eyes she saw not a spark of pity or compassion. Only gleeful malevolence, a joy at causing others pain.
She forced herself to stand her ground, lifted her chin defiantly. “You knew I’d come?”
The old man waved a dismissive hand. “Of course I knew. Ye humans are so predictable.” He grinned at her suddenly, a terrifying sight on that withered face. “The question is: why? Why have ye sought me out?”
“To stop the carnage,” Lia replied. “To end the bloodshed and save lives.” To save Ross.
The Fae raised an amused eyebrow. “Come closer so that I may look at ye.”
Lia took a hesitant step forward but was careful to stay outside the chalk circle. Seeing this, the Fae’s grin grew wider.
“And how will ye stop me, child of time? Ye have no power that can thwart me.”
Lia licked her lips. She curled her hands into fists, digging her nails into her palms to steel her courage. “Maybe not. But we both know that’s not how things work. I’ve not come to threaten you or appeal to your better nature—I realize you don’t have one. I’ve come to offer you a bargain.”
His face lit with interest. “A bargain? And why would I agree to such a thing? There are plenty of mortals who already dance to my tune. Why would I want ye?”
Lia took a deep breath, hoping she’d guessed correctly. “Because, like you said, I’m a child of time. I was brought here by Irene MacAskill—your enemy.”
At mention of Irene’s name a look of cold fury flitted across his face, quickly stifled. He glared at her for a long time. Lia forced herself to meet his gaze, even though she longed to turn tail and run.
“What bargain do ye offer, child of time?”
Lia closed her eyes, pulled a deep breath through her nostrils and opened them again.
“My life. In return for ending your attack and never bo
thering the MacAuley clan again.”
“An interesting offer,” he replied, reaching up to stroke his chin with one age-wrinkled hand. “Step inside the circle so we can discuss it further.”
Lia took a step forward, her feet coming to rest just outside the swirling patterns that marked the circle’s edge. She raised her foot to step inside—
“No!”
The bellow tore through the hold like a gun shot. Lia spun, heart hammering, to see a figure filling the doorway.
It was Ross.
Chapter 19
A cascade of thoughts and emotions flashed through Ross’s head as he took in the scene before him: fear, anger, desperation. What, by all that’s holy, had Lia been about to do? Didnae she realize that if she stepped through that circle she would be at the Fae’s mercy?
“Step away!” he yelled. “Dinna even look at him!”
Lia’s eyes were wide with fear, her beloved face as pale as snow. But she did as he asked. She staggered towards him and he grabbed her more roughly than he intended and looked her up and down.
“What are ye doing here?” he demanded. “I told ye to stay in the castle! What did he do to ye? Did he hurt ye?”
She shook her head and Ross’s knees went weak with relief. God in Heaven, if he’d been a moment later... He pushed her behind him and approached the old man, stopping several paces short of the chalk circle.
“I should have known it was ye,” he growled. “Who else would wish such harm against me and mine?”
The Fae grinned at him, seeming inordinately pleased with this assessment. “Who indeed? Yer father and uncles found a way to thwart me. It willnae happen again. The MacAuley clan dies today.”
“Why?” Ross asked. “Why are ye doing this? Why do ye hate my family so?”
“Can ye really not know?” the Fae asked incredulously. “Do ye not even know yer own family history? Mayhap ye should pay more attention to yer own ancestry. Human memories are so short but the Fae’s are long. We remember. I remember.”
“Remember what?” Ross growled. “What are ye talking about?”
The old man cocked his head to one side. “How much do ye know of Alba’s founding? Do ye know it was founded by the Fae? That it all once belonged to us? But that was before ye mortals arrived, breeding like rabbits, taking our lands. Do ye know that because of ye, my people broke into two factions: the Unseelie and Seelie courts? I serve the former and I would see my kind have dominion again. All mortal kind will serve the Fae once more!”
“Whilst Irene serves the Seelie court,” Ross said in sudden understanding. “And opposes ye.”
“And seeks to protect mortals,” the old man spat. “For generations she and yer ancestors have worked to keep ‘the balance’ she speaks of. I care not one whit for the balance. So what if the universe is thrown out of kilter? As long as my people get back what is rightfully theirs, the world can burn. And that meddling bitch with it.”
His words dripped pure vitriol and little globs of white spit formed at the corners of his mouth. Those black eyes, usually so devoid of emotion, flared with blinding fury.
“If Irene stands against ye then I stand beside her willingly,” Ross said.
“Why?” the old man replied. “What has she given ye? Only pain and torment. She brings ye a lass ye fall in love with—only to know she will be torn from ye when she returns to her own time. Irene MacAskill gives naught to those who do her work—but I can. I can give ye yer heart’s desire. The reason ye came looking for me in the first place. It is the only way to save yer people. I will give ye the bargain that ye sought for so long and restore yer brother’s life.”
Despite the warning bell that sounded in his head, despite knowing what this creature was, Ross’s heartbeat quickened with hope. He had spent years obsessed with finding this creature and striking that bargain, with righting the terrible wrong he'd done his brother. Now that obsession, which he'd thought buried, came racing to the surface again. Was it possible? Could he somehow save Lia, his people, and his brother? His life would be small payment for such a thing.
"Ye know what I want," Ross said hoarsely. "What I've always wanted. I will trade my life in return for that of my people." He lifted his head, met that stony black gaze. "And my brother. I know ye have the power."
"No!" Lia shouted. She grabbed his arm, spun him to face her. "You can't do this! I won't let you."
He reached out and ran his thumb gently across her cheek. "I must. I have known that my life was forfeit from the moment I took my brother's life. There is no other way."
"There must be!" Tears of anger and frustration gathered in her eyes. "Damn you, Ross, I won't stand here and watch you die!"
The old man laughed, causing them both to turn and look at him. "Ye presume much. What makes ye think I want yer life?"
"I have naught else to give ye,” Ross growled at him.
"What ye propose isnae a fair bargain. Ye ask me to spare how many lives? Hundreds? And in return for what? One paltry life? It isnae enough."
Ross curled his hands into fists. "Dinna play yer games with me! What else do I have to give ye in payment?"
The Fae's mouth curled up in a grin, revealing rows of white teeth that gleamed in the lamplight. "Yer service. Ye will bind yerself to me for all eternity. Ye will stand by my side as I bring mortal kind to its knees. Ye will watch, and ye will weep, powerless to stop me. Ye will be my witness. Ye will watch everything come to ruin whilst ye live on, alone, bereft, knowing ye were yer kind's ultimate downfall. Ye will be my slave—but yer brother, yer clan, will live."
"I'll kill you!" Lia hissed. She flung herself towards the chalk circle but Ross caught her and dragged her back before she could cross the threshold.
The Fae laughed. "This is the bargain I offer ye. It will be the only one. What say ye?"
Ross staggered, gripped by sudden memory. He was standing on that windswept cliff top once more. Ahead of him, his brother clung to the edge, eyes wide with terror. Shame and guilt washed through Ross like bile, so strong that it drove him to his knees.
"Brother!" Ramsay cried. "Help me!"
All Ross had to do was grab his brother's wrist and pull him up. He knew now, with the Fae's aid, he would have the strength. He knew he could right the wrong he'd done so long ago. He straightened, took a step closer to the edge. He’d hated himself for so long. He had forsaken his family, his title, his bonds of fellowship to seek out this moment. Just another step. That's all it would take.
But he hesitated. Shame and guilt weren't the only things that filled him anymore. Something else grew inside him now, something that brought a peace he'd never experienced, something that turned each day from a bleak struggle into joy.
His love of Lia.
What would happen to her if he went through with this? Would she be safe?
"Make the bargain!" the Fae hissed from behind him. "Save yer brother!"
Ross stepped forward. He looked down into his brother's eyes. Ramsay had always been the wiser of the two. As their gazes met, he saw no condemnation in his brother’s green eyes. Only an acceptance of his fate.
But what would be Lia’s fate? What was to stop the Fae from hurting her without Ross to protect her? What was to stop the Fae from trapping her in this time? Of destroying her? He could not take the risk, not even for his brother.
"I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Forgive me."
Ramsey nodded. Then he let go of the cliff edge and fell, his gaze never leaving Ross's as he plummeted towards the sea. But before he could hit the crashing white waves, Ross's vision swirled and he was again standing back inside the ship's hold.
He felt fingers as cold as death fasten around his throat.
"No!" a voice hissed. "Ye will be mine, curse ye! I will have my vengeance!"
To his shock, Ross found the old man's face just inches from his own. The withered features were contorted with hatred, the black eyes shining with malevolence. His lips were pulled back from his teeth in a
snarl, saliva dripping from them. In his fury, the Fae had left his protective circle and now, bound by the rules of its kind to use no magic where no bargain existed, it had resorted to brute force to kill Ross, the son of his hated enemy.
Ross grabbed the old man's wrists, tried to yank them from around his neck but the creature’s grip was as strong as tree roots and he couldn't budge it. Ross began to choke.
He hammered at the creature’s face, landing punch after punch, desperately trying to force him to loosen his grip, but although his head snapped to the side with each blow, Ross’s blows seemed to make no impression on the old man at all. The edges of Ross's vision began to go black. He could hear himself making a desperate, awful choking noise and realized that finally, he was beaten.
He'd never thought he would die like this but few people got to choose the manner of their death. So be it. He relaxed, stopped fighting, and a look of pure glee transformed the Fae's face.
Then something crashed into the old man's head, snapping it to the side. Strangely, a patch of skin on his face turned red as though burned and the sickly smell of burning flesh filled the hold.
"Fool!" the Fae growled over his shoulder. "Ye think ye can hurt me? I'm protected by—"
Another blow snapped the old man’s head back, and this time his grip slackened enough for Ross to gasp in a great lungful of air. A second patch of the Fae’s skin began to smolder, this one on the side of his neck.
"What is this?" the old man hissed. "This isnae possible! I am protected!"
Finally, the Fae seemed to realize what he’d done. His eyes widened as he realized he was no longer standing inside his protective circle.
Ross seized his chance. With the last of his strength, he head-butted the old man in the face. The shock was enough to break the creature’s grip and Ross staggered back, gasping in air.
"Ross!" Lia shouted, rushing to his side. She was gripping a sharpened piece of wood with a metal cap. "Are you all right?"