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Destiny Stone (Phoenix Throne Book 3): A Scottish Highlander Time Travel Romance

Page 15

by Heather Walker


  The other three lapsed into silence. Hazel didn’t like that silence. It boded no good for her. She didn’t want to fight the Loch Nagar witch or break down her defenses to get the Stone back. If the witch had Fergus, though, Hazel had to get him back.

  The friends settled down for a night around the fire, but Hazel’s mind wouldn’t stop churning. What did the vision really mean? What was Fergus doing at Loch Nagar? What if the witch already crowned him King of whatever and Hazel couldn’t get him back at all?

  Sinclair and Athol fell asleep, but Faing’s ribs gave him too much trouble. He fidgeted and whimpered all night long. Hazel sat up by his side and comforted him as best she could, but they never spoke.

  For the millionth time since she came to this weird country, she hated herself. She possessed all this incredible power at her fingertips, and she couldn’t even help her friend when he really needed it. What was the matter with her? This blasted curse destroyed her life at every turn.

  She couldn’t lose Fergus. She couldn’t let him slip through her fingers, not now that she gave everything to be with him. She let herself become Urlu for his sake. She couldn’t let anything happen to him. She couldn’t live with that.

  The night dragged on. Poor Faing! The hours crept by in a torment of pain. He winced at every shift of his position. Hazel helped him lie down, but he couldn’t get comfortable. She helped him sit up. She helped him stretch out his legs and fold them under him. She helped him stand, but he got too tired and had to sit down again. She made him a cushion of pine needles. She shaped it and folded his plaid under his head for a pillow. The minute he lay down, he had to get up again.

  By morning, both of them were more exhausted than they had been the night before. Faing paced around the fire in a ferment of discomfort. His wraps itched. He couldn’t move his arms more than a few inches without hurting his ribs. He sweated and gasped and cursed. “Loch Nagar! Paw!”

  Hazel sunk down on a fallen log. She couldn’t help him anymore. He wore her out. “You won’t be going there, Faing. You’ll stay behind in Faery. I’m sure the King won’t let you come.”

  “Ye dinnae think it’s really there, do ye?” he asked. “I cinnae see’t, e’en now.”

  “What do you see?” she asked.

  “I see naught. I told ye that. I cinnae see the Stone at all. It’s hidden. Ye’ve seen more o’t than I ha’e.”

  Hazel welcomed the chance to get him talking about something other than his injuries. “Why do you think Fergus could see it at Loch Nagar and you can’t?”

  “How should I ken?” he snapped. “Ye say he saw when ye disarmed the guardian. Ye ha’e done naught o’ that fer me, so I cinnae see.”

  “I’m sorry, Faing. I didn’t intend to slight you. I appreciate your help and…”

  “Wheesht, lass! Slight me! That’s a prize tote if I e’er heard one. Ye dinnae slight me. It’s Cameron ye saw, no me. He was wi’ ye when ye disarmed the guardian, and he saw. No more.”

  “I sure wish you could see a way to repair the fabric. I’m going out of my mind trying to solve this mystery.”

  “Ye’ll solve it,” he told her. “Ye’ll come up wi’ a way tae repair it. I’m certain o’ that.”

  She smiled at his care-worn face. “Thanks. Come on. Let’s take you home. You can’t stay out here another day.”

  She woke up Sinclair. “Get up, Alasdair. We’re taking Faing home.”

  In a moment, Sinclair and Athol got to their feet. The friends took turns supporting Faing on the way back to the Faery mound. The trip took the better part of the day. Faing hobbled and required frequent rest, but after what seemed like ages, they retraced all the territory they crossed since they left.

  Faing struggled up the last rise to the top of the mound and collapsed at Alasdair’s feet. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he didn’t move again. Sinclair glared all around him. Hazel came to his side, and she and Alasdair and Athol formed a circle around Faing’s inert body.

  They barely got into position and Athol nodded. He looked down at the ground, but before it could open to swallow them into the mound, one of those wicked black holes erupted out of the fabric of space itself. It popped open out of nowhere with no warning. It struck with incredible force the like of which Hazel never encountered before. Instead of sucking up everything in its path, though, it spat countless Burgees into the world.

  They poured out of the hole by the score. They cantered all over the place. They charged the travelers so fast they caught everyone off balance. In seconds, more Burgees surrounded the party than Hazel could believe. The puny travelers huddled in a tight knot with their weapons pointed outward to fend off the attack.

  Hazel tensed all over. She prayed to High Heaven her power didn’t fail her now. She straddled Faing to protect him. Sinclair didn’t roar his rage at the Burgees now. He backed against Hazel for protection.

  The hole hovered across the mound. It spat more and more Burgees onto the mound at every second. Hazel couldn’t get near it to close it. The Burgees rode in circles around the party to close them in.

  Her heart quailed. “We can’t beat them. We have to find a way out of here.”

  “The mound winnae activate,” Athol murmured. “I dinnae understand it. It winnae open tae let us in.”

  “What’s wrong with it?” she asked.

  “I dinnae ken,” he squeaked. “It should ha’e opened fer us long ago. It should ha’e opened fer us the moment the Burgees appeared. We should ha’e been safe underground.”

  “The witch’s magic must be stopping it from activating it.”

  “How can she use yer own curse tae attack ye?” Sinclair snarled. “Ye said the holes came from ye, no from her.”

  “I don’t understand half of what’s going on around here,” she replied. “I only know we have to get out of here. There must be a way we can get away from them.”

  “There’s another mound aboot a mile from here,” Athol added. “I dinnae like the idea o’ carrying Faing there, I can tell ye.”

  Hazel shook her head. “That’ll never work. He’s too heavy.”

  “Can ye stop ’em the way ye did afore?” Sinclair asked.

  Hazel raised her hand and winked one eye closed. She squeezed her thumb and index finger around the hole and tried to pinch it closed the way she did before. At that moment, a crushing blow struck her arm. It smashed her hand down. She spun around to face a Burgee standing over her. He raised his battle axe to destroy her.

  Hazel brought up her hand to catch the blow. The Burgee bent forward in his saddle to deal the killing stroke when a saber flew past Hazel’s head. Sinclair lunged in front of her and knocked the axe out of the Burgee’s hand. It sailed backward and left the Burgee looking down at his empty hand.

  Hazel didn’t hesitate an instant. She dived under Sinclair’s arm and snatched the Burgee’s axe off the ground. She danced around the other way and swung it with all her might. She batted the Burgee’s skull clean off his neck, and the skeleton rolled out of the saddle.

  “Get him up, Alasdair!” she cried. “Pick up Faing.”

  She didn’t watch to make sure he did it. She vaulted into the Burgee’s empty saddle and seized the reins in one hand. She bent down and grabbed hold of Faing’s belt. She heaved him over her saddle horn as Alasdair pushed him up from underneath. She settled him across her pommel just in time as another four Burgees moved in on her from all sides.

  Hazel screamed to her friends. “Attack! Unmount them! It’s our only chance.”

  Her command electrified her friends, but she was too busy with the other Burgees to watch them. She kept a firm grip on Faing and swung her battle axe with her free hand. Demonic fury gave her superhuman strength. She didn’t need Faery magic for this. She had to smash and kill and maim.

  She hit another Burgee in the shoulder. He stuck to his saddle, but she already brought her axe back the other way. She crushed his arm bone, and his saber impaled the soft grass around his horse’s hoove
s.

  Another Burgee drove his horse into Hazel’s mount so hard he almost dislodged Faing from his position. Hazel couldn’t fight them all, but while they concentrated their attack on Hazel, Sinclair barreled in from the other side.

  He grabbed the nearest Burgee by the ankle and hauled him from his saddle. He pitched the Burgee on the ground and smashed his heel into the bare skull. He crushed it to a powder and launched himself into the saddle.

  Hazel kicked her mount hard. The animal plunged forward. Hazel hung on for dear life, but sheer terror wouldn’t let her fail. She charged across the mound oblivious to Burgees attacking on all sides.

  She headed straight for Athol. He caught sight of her at the last moment. He still held his sword upraised to fend off the encroaching Burgees. She blasted through the enemy and caught him by the wrist. She heaved him up behind her and never stopped galloping.

  Sinclair charged after her, but the Burgees gave chase. Hazel scanned the forest all around, but she didn’t see any Faery mound. Athol pointed. “O’er there, lass. Hurry.”

  She didn’t dare turn around to look. Horses’ hooves thundered all around her. They got closer behind her. A horse flashed across her peripheral vision, but it was only Sinclair. He charged ahead in the direction Athol indicated.

  Hazel’s horse huffed for its breath. It wouldn’t last much longer. If it failed now, she might as well dump Faing and Athol and start fighting for her skin. The horse screamed in terror. It sensed its fellows moving in for the kill, and it didn’t like the odds any better than Hazel did.

  She didn’t have to spur the poor creature to run faster. It already pushed itself to its utmost. Spurring it would only break its lungs the faster. A deafening clang of metal against metal startled her out of her wits when she realized Athol was fighting Burgees on the hoof.

  The arm he held around her waist tightened until she couldn’t breathe, but she kept riding. She focused all her attention on following Sinclair. Nothing else mattered beyond getting to the other mound in the faint hope it would activate and take them down to safety underground.

  Two Burgees flanked her on either side. She tried to raise her battle axe to fight, but Faing slipped. She had to hold onto him at this speed, or he would fall. The two Burgees moved in at the same moment to sandwich her. They both swung their sabers to cut her down. She threw one leg over Faing’s shoulders to pin him in place so she could grip her axe in both hands.

  She swung it hard and hit one of the Burgees. She couldn’t fight them both, but Athol, good old Athol! he deflected the other weapon just in time. The Burgee she hit tumbled sideways. She snatched up her reins and yanked her horse into the other one. The Burgee’s mount veered, and Hazel steered away to give herself a few more seconds reprieve.

  Up ahead, Sinclair broke out of the trees into an open field. Hazel caught sight of a grass-covered hill in the distance. Sinclair glanced back to check their progress, and his expression changed. His eyes flew open. He reined his horse around and charged back to join Hazel and the others fighting for their lives.

  Sinclair rode hard into the circle. He plowed a path between Hazel’s horse and the Burgees. He swung his saber right and left. The Burgees he didn’t cut down he left for Hazel and Athol to cope with.

  She kicked her horse with all her strength, but the Burgees blocked her path. Horses crowded around her on all sides. She might as well be kicking a sack of potatoes for all the progress the animal made.

  They weren’t getting anywhere near that mound, and more Burgees caught up with them all the time. Sinclair made a complete circuit around Hazel’s horse. He bashed and smashed everything in sight. When he returned to the horse’s head, he caught the animal by the bridle and dragged it toward the mound.

  Hazel worked with her battle axe. She hefted skulls aside, but her heart sunk into her socks when she spotted a crowd of black-hooded Burgees riding through the trees on the opposite side of the mound to cut the travelers off. Even if Sinclair got her horse onto the mound, the Burgees would surround them and cut them down.

  Sinclair didn’t notice them. He bruised his own horse kicking it to death against the tide of equine bodies. He bloodied Hazel’s mount around the mouth yanking its bridle so hard, but he urged the two petrified animals onto the mound.

  The incessant clash of arms deafened Hazel. Her heart threatened to explode out of her chest. Could they make it into the mound alive? Her spirit ached to get under the mound, into the safe quiet Earth.

  Sinclair dragged the horses halfway up the mound when the circling Burgees made their move. They reined their horses around and charged up the hill to attack. In seconds, hundreds of them surrounded the party. Sabers and axes flew in all directions, but Hazel already knew it was hopeless.

  She kept her leg over Faing’s shoulders so she could hold onto her axe, but her arms and shoulders ached. She couldn’t fight much longer. Then she would fall. She would die, and she would never have to worry about any of this again. The Burgees would turn her to stone and leave her to rot on this forgotten mound.

  Athol blocked another swipe by Burgees behind her. He shoved her in the shoulder. “Gang ye down! Gang ye down there. Hurry!”

  “What?” she screamed back over the noise.

  “Gang ye under the mound. Gang ye down now! Dinnae wait aboot. I’ll cover ye. Take Faing down there and be done wi’ it.”

  “We can’t leave you here,” she cried back. “You’re coming with us.”

  He gritted his teeth to cut another Burgee in half. He paused in his fight to seize her by the shirt sleeve. He threw her off the horse, and she collapsed onto the ground. “Get ye off! Gang ye out o’ ’ere, and dinnae let me see yer face up ’ere again. Go!”

  She spun around, but she didn’t recover before he pitched Faing down on top of her. She collapsed under his weight. Athol leapt forward into her saddle, but he couldn’t get the animal to move for all the Burgees around him. He turned one way and then another.

  “No, Athol!” Hazel screamed. “You can’t do this!”

  “Sinclair!” he called. “Sinclair! Get these twa down the mound.”

  Sinclair saw what he meant to do. He jumped off his horse and ran to Hazel’s side. He wrestled Faing out of her hands and yelled up to Athol. “Go, mon! Go!”

  “No!” Hazel cried. “You can’t do this!”

  It was too late. Sinclair dragged Faing to Athol’s horse. He grappled Faing’s senseless body in his arms and propped his sagging legs under him against the animal’s shoulder. Hazel rushed over, but at that moment, the ground sank beneath her feet.

  The Burgees rushed in to stop their quarry escaping. Sinclair tossed his saber up to his friend. Athol caught it and fought twice as hard with both weapons at the same time. How he managed to meet every stroke, Hazel could never figure out. He turned every way at once, but he couldn’t turn fast enough.

  The ground turned sodden under Hazel’s feet. She screamed out one more time, “Athol, no!”

  The horse’s legs punctured the soft sod when Athol spun right to meet a Burgee aiming for his head. His saber met the oncoming weapon in a shower of sparks when a battle axe hit him in the neck from behind. The horse shrieked and plunged into the Earth. The soil closed over Hazel’s head. It closed over Sinclair’s head. It closed over the horse’s head, and it closed over Athol’s head, axe and all.

  Chapter 21

  Fergus started out of bed to pounding on his bedroom door. “Wake up, Fergus! Come quick! The castle is under attack!”

  Fergus jumped out of bed and pulled on his kilt. He opened his door, and Althea rushed in. “What’s this aboot an attack?”

  She pointed toward the window. “They’re coming in from the west. Come quick! We need to mount all our defenses before they get here.”

  He slipped his shirt over his head. “Who is it? Who’s attacking?”

  “The Folk of the Dell, along with the Zukbab from the West Country. They’ve been our enemies for generations. Come on. I’ll t
ake you up to the peak. You’ll be able to see from there.”

  He buckled on his saber and his sporran and hurried after her. Their heels clipped down the passage. “What defenses ha’e ye got tae stop ’em?”

  “My magic will only hold them so far,” she replied. “Once the Zukbab overrun them, we’ll need our army.”

  “Your army!” he exclaimed. “How can I ha’e ought tae do wi’ an army I cinnae see?”

  She rounded on him, and they stopped in the corridor, face to face. She snapped her fingers, and dozens upon dozens of people appeared all around him. Serving women rushed here and there. Lords and ladies raced down the passaged heading somewhere. Soldiers’ stamping feet tramped across the flagstone floor in the entrance hall far below. People of every station rushed past Fergus going in every direction at once.

  “Now will you come?” Althea asked.

  Fergus never hesitated. Now was his chance to prove himself worthy of her consideration. He would cast his lot with Loch Nagar to defend it with his life against its enemies.

  He and Althea raced out of the castle. They tore up the path they took yesterday to the very mountaintop. Althea aimed her accusing finger toward the West. “There. Can you see them?”

  Fergus shielded his eyes against the sun. A cloud of dust rose off the horizon, but he couldn’t see anything. “I cinnae see naught. I’ll go aloft and check their advance.”

  Althea grabbed his arm. “No! Don’t leave. I need you here.”

  “Ye dinnae need ought more than tae ken where they are. Once we ken that, we’ll ken how much time we ha’e tae prepare. We might tae prepare further defenses. I’ll just…”

  “No, Fergus,” she breathed. “Don’t go out there. Stay here. I need you to help me ready the forces for the assault. I don’t have anyone better than you to lead my army. Can I count on you? Will you stand with us to defend our land against these invaders?”

  “Ye can ye can count on me,” he replied. “Ye ken I’ll do whate’er it takes tae protect ye and yer people.”

 

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