The rest of the night passed miserably. The guards all trekked down to the hillside where the first group of bodies had been found, a grim search party that knew exactly what it would find. Sure enough, the young guard's twisted body wasn't far from where they'd found Danny. His face was twisted in horrible fear and Connor hastened to close his eyes for him, which went some way to making his face seem a little more peaceful. The guards stood in somber silence for a long time under the dark, cloudless night sky, and Karen felt like an interloper again, an intruder on their grief. She hadn't known the dead man… didn't even know his name. And now he was gone… a victim of the Sluagh.
"It seems they're not restricted to the named victim," Connor said heavily, later that night, when the body had been carried to Father Caleb and the guards had been dismissed for the night.
Most of them had gone to the inn for a drink and a kind of unofficial wake for the dead guard — Thomas had been more than willing to open the doors up, given the circumstance — but Connor had come home with Karne after making a polite appearance. Without speaking, they'd climbed into bed together — Karen could tell that he needed the comfort of her touch now more than ever.
"That killing was done out of spite."
"Retaliation," she said softly, thinking of how angry the creatures had been that first night when so many of their fellows had fallen. "Vengeance for how many have been killed."
"I was right," he added, frowning. "They're hiding in that root cellar. Gives me an idea."
But before she could ask him to elaborate, he was kissing her, hard and urgent… and she was more than willing to stop the conversation and let their bodies do the talking for the next little while, at least.
Chapter 59
They slept late the next day. There was a somber atmosphere in the village when they finally got up and headed to Thomas's inn for a late lunch. The innkeeper was yawning when he served them, and when questioned admitted that many of the guards had stayed at the inn until dawn, talking and reminiscing about their fallen comrade. It had been as good a memorial as any, and though the man's funeral was planned for later in the week, it seemed like the guards had already done what they needed to do to bid farewell to their friend.
Once they were done with lunch, Connor disappeared into the streets of the town, returning with several heavy flasks and a glint in his eye. When he shook the flasks, they sloshed — and he explained he intended to use oil and fire to burn the Sluagh out of their little hidey hole in the root cellar. They headed up well before nightfall with the rest of the guards, all of whom had heard about the plan and were keen to see if it would work on the Sluagh. Karen had insisted he wait until the guards were there to help with the attempt — she was worried that if anything went wrong, the creatures might attack Connor, and she couldn't handle losing him. Not now. She couldn't stop imagining what would happen if they carried him away the way they'd carried that guard into the night…
She stayed clear of the cellar door, not wanting to get in the way. She peered up at the cottage — Mary's face was visible in the glass window, impassive and pale, though she could make out streaks on her cheeks that suggested she'd been crying. Her heart ached for the poor girl. She'd tried to visit with her a few times, to lift her spirits and help her to try to find a way forward… but it seemed she was set on a horrible death, sooner rather than later. As the men set their fire, she headed into the house, determined to speak to Mary.
Cameron was there, fast asleep in Mary's bed — she had a suspicion that the girl wasn't sleeping much when she looked at the shadows under her eyes and the pallor of her skin. She turned from the window, clearly surprised to see Karen there.
"Hullo, Mary. How are you feeling?"
"Terrible," the girl said simply, with a matter-of-fact shrug of her shoulders that made Karen's heart ache. "That's three deaths on my conscience, now. How many more will they kill before they finally take me?"
"None, if I have my way," Karen said fiercely. "Don't you go disappearing into despair again, Mary. Who's going to keep Cameron safe if you're gone? Do you really think those creatures will stop once they've killed you? They'll stop for the night, sure," she said with a roll of her eyes. "But they'll be back again the next night, and the next… and this time they won't have you to exercise any control whatsoever over them. They'll be free to hunt and kill anybody. We need you, Mary. We need the control you have over them."
Mary turned back to the window abruptly, and though Karen could see her shoulders shaking with sobs, her voice was clear when she spoke. "What are they doing down there?"
"They're setting a fire in the root cellar," she said, moving over to the window to peer out there. "Trying to drive the creatures out… or burn them."
"They've been whispering to me from down there," Mary said softly. "Whispering all through the day and night. I can't sleep."
"What do they say?" Karen asked softly. Was it true that the creatures were talking to her? Or was it just another part of the girl's trauma? Hard to say — Mary only shook her head at the question, but the look of horror on her face said all it needed to say. "Mary — you mustn't listen to them. There's a path out of this misery, I promise you."
But she didn't seem convinced. And Karen bit her lip, for a moment even more worried about Mary than she was about the guards out there about to do battle with the Sluagh. Something told her that Mary's suicidal depression wouldn't just magically lift if the monsters were defeated. It ran deeper than that… not that they were helping with it, of course.
A ragged cheer went up outside, and Mary and Karen saw flames licking out of the open cellar door. The two of them shivered as an unearthly shriek went up and shadows seemed to flicker and burn in the twilight… but then the men fell back, raising their swords in alarm, as a couple of shadow-shrouded shapes went flitting up into the sky, hissing with alarm. They circled the house, and Mary's face twisted.
"They sit up on the roof at night," she whispered. "They talk to me…"
"How many were there?" Karen demanded. "How many did they burn?" But Mary was lost — she was sitting in a chair by the window, clearly lost in her own grief and sadness, and Karen sighed before heading down the staircase. She knew when she wasn't being listened to. Maybe some time alone would help Mary think through what she was going to do when all of this was over.
Connor looked exultant, his face marked with soot and a broad grin dancing in his eyes. She smiled a little to see him — it was hard not to feel cheered by that smile — and he scooped her into his arms, swinging her about before setting her down with a laugh. "We got nearly all of them, Karen! Heard them shrieking and burning down there, then went down to check on them — empty. Those two are the only ones left," he added, nodding at the two they could see perched on the rooftop. Mary's face at the window… and was she imagining it, but was shadow creeping down from the Sluagh, seeping through the window, touching her face?
"They have to die tonight," Karen breathed, realizing it as she spoke. "Mary's not strong enough to last another night with them dripping their poison in her ears—"
"What do you mean?"
"The Sluagh are drawn by despair, right? They feed on it — it sustains them," she said, her eyes fixed on those shadowy figures in the gathering night. "But they don't just feed on it, Connor. They're not hunters… they're farmers. They drive people into despair. Sure, they pick on people who have plenty of despair to begin with… but they make it worse. That's how they got Rosemary. And Mary… she's not far off either. She won't stop talking about how her death is the only thing that will stop them… but her death would only free them."
Connor was staring at her, nodding as she explained her theory, clearly in agreement that it made sense. He hesitated, biting his lip. "About that. I have an idea that might — that will probably kill both of the remaining ones, here and now, tonight. But… you're not going to like it."
She stared up at him, nonplussed. "What do you mean?"
"I mean…
" He hesitated. Then he told her.
And when he'd finished speaking, she felt like her heart was going to break. "You're not serious."
"It's our best chance, Karen. To end this now — to finish them off before they can drive Mary to despair or take another of my men."
"You'll die," she said, shaking her head blindly as the fear that she'd been keeping at bay so successfully came raging through her. "They'll kill you, Connor, you can't be serious about risking something so dangerous —"
"I have to," he said stubbornly, and she felt real anger flare to life in her. "For the village, Karen. I know it's dangerous, but… I'd give my life if it meant keeping these people safe. I owe them that."
"What about me?" she said, teeth gritted. "What do you owe me?"
"Karen — " He looked anguished.
She realized how torn he was — that she was asking him to choose between her and his duty, the thing he loved, the work that was his life. Could she really do that? Could she be the person who asked the man she loved to walk away from his duty? What would she say if he asked her to stop her work — to stop risking her own health to care for her patients? Didn't she take risks every day? Hadn't her own job's dangers been what brought her here?
"Please," he said softly, moving close to her. "You have to understand."
She took a deep, shuddering breath. "I understand," she said through gritted teeth, feeling the effort of speaking like a physical weight. "You… you have to do this. I get it. I do stupid, dangerous, idiotic things for my stupid, dangerous, idiotic job too." His eyes filled with hope. "But if you die, Connor Grant, in the pursuit of this damn fool objective, I'll personally bring you back just so I can kill you myself."
She hadn't realized they were being overheard until a roar of laughter distracted her — she realized with a shock of embarrassment that the guards were standing around them, listening intently to her little speech. Well, let them. With a flare of odd courage, she realized she didn't care if they overheard her — didn't care if they knew how she felt about this man. Impulsively, she took a step forward, grabbing Connor's hands in hers. "I love you, Connor Grant," she said fiercely, and the look of utter shock — and transcendent joy — on his face made her heart swell two sizes in her chest.
"I love you too," he half-whispered, and the men around them roared their approval again.
And that joy burned like a flame in her chest as they set about the plan he'd come up with. It was close to midnight by the time everything was arranged. Connor, standing in the middle of the cottage's front yard. The men gathered around him with their bows taut, ready, and waiting to intervene if something went wrong. And Karen, peering down at the scene with her hand clenched around the iron knife in her pocket — peering through Mary's window. The girl gave her a worried look — and she nodded, giving Connor the signal as Mary stepped forward and slammed the window open.
There was a shriek — and the Sluagh were there, wings beating, unholy eyes gleaming in the night. Mary lifted her chin, warding them off with a fistful of iron bullets from Connor's sling. "Hear me! I offer you a life in place of mine! I offer you Connor Grant!"
The response was instantaneous. The Sluagh spun and dove toward Connor with another of those unearthly howls, the west wind flapping around them. But Connor was ready and waiting. As the two swooped on him, he brought his hand up and sent a knife flying — and it hit home, tearing through the throat of the first Sluagh and leaving it fluttering weakly on the earth as it died. She clenched her fist in triumph, hearing the men roar — but then there was a horrible beating of wings and she almost screamed as she saw the Sluagh carrying Connor aloft, its talons dug into his shoulders. He was fighting to reach it with the dagger in his hand, but the blade glanced off its talons and he couldn't quite get it higher. The creature rose, and rose, the men on the ground yelling their fury but unable to fire for fear of hitting Connor and dooming him... he was almost level with the cottage window now…
Then Mary straightened her back, and with a furious shout that contained more force than Karen though the girl had in her, she hurled the fistful of pellets in her right hand toward the creature. It shrieked as the iron touched it, hissing and bubbling at its flesh — and Connor took the opportunity to twist his body upwards in a Herculean effort that gave him just enough altitude to drive the blade into the Sluagh's heart.
The monster fell to earth, its wings flapping weakly, Connor now clutching its wrists to slow his descent just enough to allow him to land safely. Then Karen was running down the stairs to him, her heart pounding as the adrenaline screamed through her, relief almost choking her as she hurled herself into his arms.
"Are you okay? Did it hurt you?" she stammered, pulling back, but he only smiled down at her.
"Nothing but bruises. It didn't even pierce the armor." A smug glint in his eyes. "I told you it would work."
And at that, she was so exasperated that all she could do was kiss him.
Chapter 60
The Sluagh were gone. And to Karen's great relief, with them it seemed the worst of Mary's near-catatonic despair. She still had a lot to work through, of course… and it didn't help matters that word managed to spread through the village, in the days that followed that last battle, that Mary had been somehow connected to the monsters that had stalked them and claimed so many innocent lives.
It took Karen a little while to find out how word had spread, but she got to the bottom of it eventually. It seemed that one of the rapists had confessed his crimes to his mother, who'd been horrified by the revelation… and soon after, utterly grief stricken by the death of her son and the five other men the Sluagh had taken that first night. But as time had gone on, and the Sluagh had continued to stalk Mary's cottage, her suspicions had grown that her son's death had something to do with Mary.
Officially, the Watch denied all connection between Mary and the Sluagh, insisting that the creatures had only gathered there because they'd wanted to kill Cameron. But the rumors spread regardless, and it wasn't long before Mary was getting the kinds of looks that Karen remembered getting back when the whole village suspected her of being a witch.
Worrying about Mary cast something of a shadow over her courtship with Connor. Knowing the monsters were banished and they were safe in their bed again was one thing… but the damage had not yet been mended. The epidemic proceeded apace, with several new patients diagnosed before the spread had finally been seen to have stopped, and Karen was run off her feet over the next few weeks bringing food and supplies to the sick patients to ensure that they stayed in isolation. Still, they spent plenty of time together… especially that first night, when she'd dragged him home after his triumphant battle with the last Sluagh to bathe his wounds for him.
There, by the firelight, they'd revisited the topic they'd discussed before the last Sluagh had been killed. He'd asked her if she'd meant what she'd said… and she'd dropped her eyes for a moment, focusing on cleaning the dirt from a graze he'd sustained when the creature had dropped him.
"Karen?"
"I meant every word," she said simply. "I love you, Connor. More than I've loved anyone."
"I love you too," he said softly, a broad smile on his face. But he'd hesitated, too. "Are you… are you going to stay?"
She stared at him. "Stay?"
"You have such a brave, exciting life back home. Given the chance, you'd leave this place and return to it… wouldn't you?"
"Of course not," she said, shocked — and as she spoke, she realized it was true. "I — Connor, I'm happy here. I'm incredibly happy. I can do my work, and I can help people… and I can be with you. Why would I ever want to leave? I'm yours," she said, her eyes full of love for him. "I'm staying as long as you'll have me."
"Forever, then," he'd said, pulling her into his arms, heedless of the half-bandaged wounds he was interfering with. "Forever, for a start."
And so, the time had passed, as time did. She'd said she'd wanted to wait until the epidemic was over and d
one with before they exchanged their vows… but in the end, the pair of them had been far too impatient, and they'd been married a month before the epidemic could be said to have officially ended, with the final patient declared lesion-free. The herds were clear, the village was hale and healthy again, and Connor was at her side, her best friend, her partner, her husband… but there was one shadow that lingered.
Mary.
It was early one evening that she was roused from some reading by a knocking at the door. Bleary-eyed, she wrapped herself in a cloak to chase away the chill before going to get it. There, on the doorstep, stood Mary, dressed for travel, a fine cloak around her shoulders and a clear, cool look in her blue eyes. A look that spoke of clarity, as well as grief. The look of a young woman who had made up her mind. It broke Karen's heart to see how old the sixteen-year-old looked… but she was glad, too, to see that the lesions were all healed, and that the lingering marks left by her attackers had finally healed, too. The rest of the damage… well, that remained to be seen.
"Karen," Mary said with a smile, and the two embraced. "I wanted to say goodbye."
"Goodbye?" Karen said, dumbstruck. "You're leaving? I didn't — nobody told me —"
"Nobody knows," Mary said softly. "Father Caleb thought it was best to keep things quiet. I'm not exactly the most popular woman in the village."
Karen sighed. "They're just superstitious, Mary. Those rumors —"
"It's starting to reflect poorly on Cameron," she said simply. "I don't want his life ruined by this as well as mine."
"Where are you going?" There was a black horse tethered by the gate that Karen didn't recognize, and Mary glanced over her shoulder with a smile.
"A convent," she said softly, reaching up to touch the crucifix that hung around her neck. "Finding my faith is the best thing that's come out of this. The best place for me is in His service. I know that as clear as I've ever known anything."
Troubled By The Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Highlander Forever Book 6) Page 24