"It's too dangerous," he tried, but she narrowed her eyes again.
Colin was looking between the two of them, a faint smile on his face. "I know that look," he said softly.
She realized she hadn't heard the older man speak much — he was a quiet sort, with the same composure and dignity as his wife.
"I've seen that look on the faces of women from the future quite a few times. Take a word of advice from an old man, Brendan. You'll not stop a woman with that look in her eye from doing what she intends to do."
"What's your plan, Helena?" Audrina asked, her eyes anxious but her voice calm again. "What are you going to do?"
"I think this creature misses her daughter," Helena said simply, shrugging her shoulders. "So I'm going to give her her daughter back."
Audrina's eyes widened. "Of course," she murmured. "Poor Anne… do you really think it will work?"
"I think that if she can get control of her grief long enough, that she'll break the spell that has transformed her into this thing — and I think that if she thinks Brigid has come back to her, that might be what she needs," Helena explained, not bothering to add that she had no idea whether the creature would recognize her in the first place. "Fiona and Marianne helped me come up with the idea. If anyone knows witches, it's them."
"True enough, I agree, this should work," Audrina said softly. "You have my blessing, Helena. If anyone can do this, it's you."
She turned to Brendan, narrowing her eyes. The man was shaking his head helplessly, a storm of emotion on his face — but he just lifted his shoulders in a helpless shrug. "Fine. I can see I won't talk you out of this."
"I need you with me, Brendan," she said fiercely, grabbing him by the wrists. "She knows you too… she'll recognize you the same way she recognizes me. Between the two of us, we'll be able to do this. I believe it."
And if they couldn't, she thought to herself with a shiver running down her spine… well, if she was going to die at the hands of the Black Annis, she at least didn't want to die alone. Was that selfish of her? No — she didn't intend to die at all. She had to believe that this plan would work. Had to trust in Marianne and Fiona, in the witches who'd helped her to come up with the plan. Had to trust in her ancestor Brigid who'd brought her back here through time and space. And had to trust in Anne, her great-great-great grandmother… the woman who had to be inside that monstrous creature still, somewhere, twisted almost beyond recognition by her grief… but not completely beyond rescue.
Brendan shook his head, then extended his hand to her. She took it with a smile, trying to look more confident than she felt about this plan. It was going to work. It had to.
"We'll leave as soon as we can," she said firmly, not looking at Brendan for permission. This was her plan now — she had to take charge, or she'd risk him talking her out of it. "We've gone to her lair in the daytime before, but that hasn't worked — she's been in there, waiting for us. But it's night now. It's possible we'll catch her while she's still out… we might be able to get the jump on her, or at least get the children out early." She took Audrina's hands in hers, locking eyes with her as she did. "We're going to get him back safe and sound, Audrina. I promise."
She only hoped, as she and Brendan hurried down the stairs, that she could keep that promise.
Chapter 28
Time passed in a whirl. It felt like only a few minutes before she and Brendan had assembled half a dozen guards, men who hadn't been injured in either of the attacks and were rested enough to come with them on this dangerous night mission. They'd left a skeleton crew of guards atop the wall as a result, including a few men who'd been injured but were capable of standing on their feet — Captain Eamon didn't like it, but he understood how important this particular mission was, and had given them the extra men they needed.
They went to get horses from the stable, but Helena hesitated as they were tacking them up, frowning to herself as she went over the details of the plan.
"We'll need something else," she said softly. "The children — Mary's only five, she won't be able to ride on a horse by herself, and the little boy who was taken from Weatherby's lands is pretty small as well. As for Jamie, he might not be well enough to ride at all."
"You're right," Brendan said thoughtfully, scanning the stables. "I know. We'll take a cart along with us. The children can ride in that — and Jamie can lie down in it, if he needs to."
It felt good to be planning for a successful mission — she liked visualizing them riding home triumphantly, with the cart full of the rescued children, safe and sound. A handful of servants had been hovering about, and they ran into the kitchens, emerging a few minutes later with a covered basket that they pressed into Helena's hands.
"From Mary," the servant said with a smile — and Helena realized with a start that it was Amelia, the girl she'd met early during her stay here. "Some food and drink for the little ones, in case they've been hungry during their time holed up in the cave. She sends her love."
"Thanks, Amelia," Helena said gratefully, accepting the little bundle. "Good thinking." Carefully, she packed the basket into the empty cart, hoping against hope that it would soon be torn open by three hungry, but safe and well, children. Working together, the guards tethered a horse to the cart, and with that, they were ready to go. They rode out across the courtyard, Helena on the back of her favorite black mare with her cloak wrapped tight around her shoulders. It was an icy cold night, the sky clear and bright with stars above them, and the gibbous moon shone brightly enough that they could see pretty well in front of them as they rode across the courtyard to the gate.
It was Captain Eamon that let them out — he gave them a wave from the top of the gate as they rode through, and even from this distance Helena could see the grim look on his face. They were going on a dangerous ride, she knew — and they were leaving the castle a lot less protected than Eamon would have liked, she knew that. What if the Black Annis came creeping back toward the castle while they were gone? What if it stole more children while the guard was low? She shook that thought off, forcing herself to focus on the here and now. They'd get to her lair before dawn, and hopefully get the jump on her that way. It may be that they didn't even run into her — perhaps they'd be able to steal inside, grab the children, and get out before she returned to catch them.
No, Helena though as they rode, gritting her teeth grimly. As inviting as that prospect was, she knew it wasn't the right thing. Rescuing these children was important, but what they really needed to do was deal with the root of the problem. The Black Annis would keep hunting sheep and children, keep stalking the land late at night, waiting to grab any unsuspecting child and steal it away. They had to defeat her, once and for all. And if that meant risking her own life… Helena shivered, not used to facing such grim prospects. But she knew, deep down, how important it was that she do this. She had to be brave. Her little sister wouldn't have had a problem doing something like this, she thought with a pang of grief, her mind going to Bec. She missed her so fiercely… wished she could call her, just hear her voice.
Was that what the Black Annis felt, all the time? Missing her daughter, desperately wanting to see her again, to touch her face, to talk and laugh with her? She thought again, as they rode, of the fear and desperation she'd felt in her dream, the grief so thick it almost choked her. It was no way to live… a part of her hoped that she'd get the chance to put the Black Annis out of her misery for her own sake, not just for the safety of the people of the surrounding area.
The ride was long. The men were nervous — she could tell by the way they kept staring into the dark countryside on either side of the road, holding their torches high. Brendan dug into his bag at one point and brought out a strange device — it looked like several torches bound together, and he explained that he'd added extra pitch, hoping the thing would burn brighter than a normal torch in an effort to ward the creature away. Sure enough, it burned brightly, and it seemed to put the men at ease a little… but Helena couldn'
t help but worry about it drawing the creature's attention. What if the Black Annis saw it drifting toward her home and came sprinting out of the darkness to stop them even reaching the cave? She must know by now that men kept intruding into her caves… what if she was lying in wait for them already, baiting them with the children she'd stolen?
Helena didn't want to die in a cave. As a younger woman, when she'd just been getting into spelunking, she'd had a few recurring nightmares about getting trapped in a cave-in. All her instructors and fellow cave enthusiasts assured her that those dreams were perfectly normal, that even the bravest cave-diver had a nightmare or two about getting stuck… but still, the dreams had made her shiver. It wasn't the claustrophobia that got her — she'd always been okay in small places. No, it was something about the idea of physically dying down there… of her body being trapped under the earth, shut away from the sun and the rain, rotting away silently in the cool air of the cave…
She cleared her throat, trying to take her mind off that grim path. If she wasn't careful, she was going to give herself a panic attack. The men were passing around a bottle up ahead, passing it from horse to horse, and she tilted her head, curious about what they were doing — Brendan, riding beside her, chuckled to himself.
"Captain Eamon certainly wouldn't allow that," he said with a low laugh. "Lucky Eamon's not here."
"What is it?"
"Whisky, I'd warrant. The terrible rotgut they brew down in the village, I'd bet."
The bottle continued to make its way through the men. It reached Brendan eventually, and he shrugged and took a deep draft from the bottle, wincing at the burn. Helena stuck her hand out for it, and he stifled a laugh, his eyes glinting with amusement in the moonlight. "Are you sure? It's pretty rough stuff."
"You're talking to someone who got through undergrad on a zero dollar alcohol budget," Helena said drily. "I'll drink anything."
She took a swig of the bottle as soon as he offered it to her, shuddering a little as it burned all the way down her throat. It wasn't bad stuff, really… not compared to the unbelievably cheap boxed wine that had been all she'd drunk for a good chunk of her college career. Not exactly good for the liver, of course… but not too bad for it either, overall. Brendan's eyes were gleaming with amusement when he took the bottle back from her, and she grinned at him, feeling a surprising wave of affection for him.
"I'm going to be careful, you know," she said softly as they rode, lowering her voice so the men ahead wouldn't overhear this part of their conversation. "I'm not an idiot. I've been thinking about this plan a lot, I'm not just going to charge in."
"I know. You're a smart woman, Helena Crane," he said softly, looking at her with both worry and admiration in his eyes. "I just … you're very important to me, that's all. I hope you don't take it as an insult, my reluctance to have any risk come to you."
She sighed. "I suppose I could trust you a little more, too," she said. "I jumped to the conclusion that you were trying to protect me because you thought I was weak, not because —"
"Because I thought I was weak," he said immediately, surprising her. She turned to look at him, taking her eyes from the road ahead for a moment. "Too weak to handle losing you… too weak to even face the prospect of it." He sighed heavily. "But here we are, in the end. Facing it."
"Facing it together," she said firmly, reaching over to squeeze his hand. "Whatever happens, we've got a better chance of surviving it if we're side by side, right? You saved me from this thing once, you can save me again."
"Or you can save me," Brendan challenged her, raising one eyebrow in amusement.
She grinned. "Maybe so. Your only weapon is a sword, and we've proven those don't work on her. You're going to need me and my witchcraft to keep you safe before all this is over."
He tilted his head thoughtfully, and she blushed a little. "Witchcraft? Truly?"
"I don't know." She shrugged. "Fiona said she thinks I might have some latent powers myself. She said it runs in families." She hesitated, reluctant to speak of his wife again, but… "She thought Brigid might have some power, too, if you will recall."
"Oh, she did."
Helena almost ran her horse off the road. Spluttering, she turned to him, shocked by the casualness of that revelation. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, just little things. After that conversation, I had to think about it for a while, but… I've come to the conclusion she was like Fiona said. I don't know if Brigid noticed half of them herself. She always knew when someone was coming up the road and who it was, well before they arrived. She had a sense when people were ill, knew when to send them gifts to keep their spirits up. An amazing touch with animals, too," he added with a smile. "You remind me of her when you handle that old mare, honestly. Sorry," he added with a frown. "I know you don't like the comparisons."
"It's okay," she said, smiling a little. "In a way, she's… she's sort of like my great-great-great grandmother. It's nice to know things about her."
"She was a wonderful woman," Brendan said, but there was no trace of sadness or anguish in his face when he smiled at her. "Just like you."
They kept riding, the dark of the night gathering in around them. It must have been after midnight — with no clock to keep track of the time, Helena wasn't completely sure how far away dawn was, but it was dark and cold when she realized they were getting close to the edge of the cliff. The moonlight was less bright, now — clouds had come up at some point during their ride and were drifting across the moon occasionally, plunging the land periodically into deeper shadow and obscuring some of the stars, too. They tethered their horses to a familiar stand of trees — Helena realized that they'd ridden straight to the part of the cliff that contained the path down to the ledge, and to the entrance that they'd been using. It occurred to her that men had died here, many men, and she shivered, hoping very much that they weren't about to add any children to that death toll. There was a chance, though, that they'd be heading into the cave to retrieve corpses, not captives. She tried to brace herself, readying herself for what she might see in there.
"Are you ready?" she asked Brendan softly. He nodded firmly, sliding down from the back of his horse and heading toward the edge of the cliff, where the men were gathered.
They talked briefly, standing there on the cliff's edge in the dead of night. It was strangely quiet — here, they were far enough away from the forested areas that they couldn't hear any animals in the night, so the only sound was the rustling of the wind through the grass around their feet. Helena kept looking over the edge of the cliff, remembering with dismay the way the men had fallen… she wouldn't let that happen, she promised herself. Not to these men — these men who'd trusted her and Brendan enough to follow them on this most dire of missions.
"We're going to move slowly and carefully," she said firmly, once they'd ascertained that the entrance to the cave was just below them. A few of them had been into the cave before, managing to escape uninjured, but most of them were new to it. "I'll be leading the way, okay? Follow me, stay as quiet as possible. We haven't been able to find the creature's actual lair yet — the caves down there are vast and extensive. We believe she might have carved them out herself using those talons," she added, remembering her dream with a shudder. "So the lair itself might be hidden. Keep a close eye out for hidden passageways, stone that looks like it could be moved… anything like that. And listen very closely for voices — we might be able to hear the children talking to each other." That is, if they're still alive, she thought with a shiver. She hoped very much that they were… but she didn't dare speak the fear aloud that they weren't.
"What do we do if she attacks us?" one of the soldiers wanted to know. He had his hand on the hilt of the sword at his side and a worried look on his face.
She could see that he was young — barely twenty, if that — and she bit her lip, worried for him. "As we know, swords don't harm her. If she comes for you…" She took a deep breath. "My plan is that she comes for me first. I ha
ve a plan to trick her. If you see her… just try to run back to the entrance. From what we've seen, she doesn't tend to chase people beyond the opening to the cave. Don't try to fight her — don't be a hero. Just get out of there."
The men nodded amongst themselves, but she could tell they were anxious about the plan, about how relatively powerless they were against this creature. A useful lesson for them, she thought with some amusement… that was, if they got out of here alive. She took a deep breath, steeling herself. It was up to her and Brendan to get these men out of the cave alive — to find the children, and to bring them home safe.
They could do it. She knew they were up to the challenge. They had to be. For the sake of the children… for the sake of Jamie… for the sake of everybody the Black Annis had been preying on.
And for the sake of Black Annis — of Anne — herself.
Chapter 29
Helena braced herself, then turned calmly and headed for the edge of the cliff. She was intensely aware that she wasn't armed — all she had on her was a little canteen of water for the children — a talisman of optimism that she'd find them safe and well enough to drink from it. The food she'd left in the cart for them to eat on the ride home — another optimistic thought. She tried to calm herself, reminding herself that a weapon would be of no use against the Black Annis anyway even if she did have one… not exactly a comforting thought, if she was honest.
They picked their careful way down the path toward the cave's entrance, their torches lighting the way. Helena noticed with amusement that the path was already looking much more well-worn than it had been that first day — at this rate, the cave was going to be a regular visit for the people of the area… as long as they could get rid of the monster living in it, of course. She shivered a little, not sure that she'd be particularly willing to spend much time in a cave that a monster had kidnapped children in, even if the monster was sure to be banished. There was something about that kind of memory that stuck around.
Highlander Hunted: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Highlander In Time Book 8) Page 22