by Teri Barnett
Dylan stared hard at her. “Your trick won’t work, Morrigu.”
“Morrigu?” Was he still asleep, speaking his dreams aloud?
“Do not play with me, Goddess. I know your schemes and I tell you this one won’t work,” he insisted. “I am filled to the top of my head with your deceptions. You play us as if we were poppets.” Dylan rubbed the sleep from his eyes and pushed his hair away from his face.
Maere sat down near him on the ground. “You think I’m Morrigu?” Had the man gone daft in her absence?
Dylan didn’t reply. He continued to watch her every movement with great skepticism. Unnerving, it was.
“I tell you true, Dylan mac Connall, I am not your goddess.” She crossed her arms. “Check inside yourself. You’ll know it’s me.”
He searched her face with those piercing black eyes of his, recognition slowly coming over him. He reached out and lightly touched her cheek in wonder. “‘Tis you, isn’t it, girl?”
She bristled. “I said as much, didn’t I?
“But how?” he asked.
“The Viking, Jorvik, was grateful to me for helping his father. He set me free. My first thought was to return home.” She glanced at him and smiled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “My second was to find you. As it turns out, I found you before finding my home.”
He raised an eyebrow, his own smile playing about his lips.
Curse him. He’d been such a gangly, graceless boy. Why’d he have to grow into such a compelling man? One so easy on the eyes? Would he be as easy on her heart? If he were to know the full truth, finding him had been her only thought, not that she’d ever admit as much.
“I would have you know I am no longer the ignorant girl you discovered at Saint Columba’s.”
“What do you mean?” His expression hardened. “Did the Viking harm you?”
“Is there something wrong with you that I must repeat everything I’m saying this morn? I said I’m no longer ignorant. I didn’t say I was no longer innocent.” She raised her eyes to his and her irritation melted away, the energy between them flowing like a tangible thing.
“You remember.”
Maere nodded. Then she searched the blood red sky of morning, the sun still low on the horizon, touched and protected for the moment by the earth. “Yes, I remember.” Once again, she saw in her mind the torturous murder of their kin, and herself as a young girl, being torn from everything and everyone she’d ever known and ever loved. She met his eyes. “I know now you spoke the truth to me.” A tear ran down her cheek. With a gentle touch, Dylan swept it away.
“I myself have cried countless nights,” he admitted. “For my father. For Manfred and Rhea.” He sighed. “For you.”
“For me?” His words stirred something deep inside.
“For what was to be between us.” He closed his eyes. “Tell me, Maere. Can it ever be?” He opened them again and waited for her reply.
Maere studied the man sitting cross-legged opposite her. Was there any of the young boy she had known left there? Perhaps in the wildness of his hair or his barely- contained energy. But his eyes were different, so different. These were eyes which had seen the dark side of things, eyes that seemed a thousand years old. “In you, I see the boy who once was.” She touched his hand where it rested on his knee. “But what of the man he has become? Him, I don’t know. Just as you can’t possibly know the woman I’ve grown into. How can we honor vows spoken when we were children when we have no ken of each other?”
Dylan picked up a dried, bare tree branch. With a deft hand, he traced a line along it. Pine needles sprang forth where there were none a moment before. He waved his fingers over a pile of dried pine needles and they began to smoke, then flames appeared. The small fire danced and cast long shadows on the craggy trunk of the tree. He studied the branch and its new leaves. “This is your Christian resurrection story, isn’t it? The dead coming back to life? It is the same with you, I imagine. The recovery of your memory is a resurrection of sorts. You are neither Maere the young girl full of mischief, always ordering me about—”
“Ordering you about?” Maere interrupted.
He smiled. “Yes. And you are neither the young woman who left the convent. You’ve been born anew, as has this branch.” He handed it to her.
Maere twirled the branch between her fingers and inhaled deeply of the pine scent. “Knowing what I now do, I don’t believe I can claim the Christian faith any longer.” She shook her head ruefully. “They would beat me now in hopes of driving the Devil’s magic from me.”
“Is that what you think?” Dylan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What you have is from the Devil?”
She smiled. “Nay, Dylan. ‘Tis truly a blessing.”
“Tell me what happened.”
Maere quietly related the story of her capture by the Vikings, and her first days in the camp. “And then, at the funeral, they spilled a young girl’s blood in sacrifice. It spoke to me from the earth, prodding me to remember another time when blood flowed.” She stared off into the distance. “The pyre was lit and flames burned high and bright, touching the sky.” Maere focused on Dylan. “I never knew why I was afraid of fire—could never remember—until this moment. It was then my mind returned to me, as if a trap door were thrown open.” She shook her head. “A miracle, it was. Everything rushed back to me. And once I remembered who I was—what I was—I had no choice. I had to save them.”
“Save who?”
Maere shifted, restless under the intensity of his gaze. “Jorvik’s father. And the young girl, Sassa. The fire would’ve destroyed their bodies. I brought them back.”
Dylan swallowed hard. “You returned them from death?”
Maere turned her face toward the small fire and nodded. “Jorvik released me in gratitude.” She gestured. “And gave me this mare to ride.” Her eyes filled with tears. “No one should lose a mother or father, or a child, to the fire. No one.”
Dylan moved closer and placed his arm around her. “It’s all right, girl. It’s why you were blessed with the gift.” He gave her a light squeeze. “Do you recall the story of the night you were born?”
“Parts of it,” she whispered. “Tell me Dylan. Tell me of our people.”
“You are of the Keltoi tribe, the Dumnonii. On the night you were born, three signs appeared and showed us you would be very special. The water goddess appeared in the stream. A white foal was birthed at the same moment as you. And when you were brought out to your father, a hawk flew overhead.” He smiled. “You were a pretty bairn, your hair as red as the sunset.”
She dropped her head onto his shoulder and he pulled her against him. “It was that very night I promised your da I’d always look after you.” He gently brushed his lips against her forehead. “You’re safe now, Maere. I won’t let any harm come to you.”
“Nor I you,” she whispered. Her eyes slowly closed until her breathing was even and she was asleep.
In the silence of the early morning, Dylan quietly scolded himself. He had believed he was cold enough to use Maere as revenge against Eugis. But she stirred in him feelings he had long forgotten, long suppressed. By the moon herself, he loved this woman. He could see into her soul the same as he could the heart of a tree. The strength and goodness she possessed were a soothing balm and he longed to wrap himself up in it, wrap himself up in her.
Before he could think of nothing but revenge, now he could think of nothing but getting her as far away as possible from Eugis. To keep her safe from harm, even if it meant keeping her away from himself as well. And he would do this, soon. But there was one thing nagging his conscience.
He would have to tell Maere of Seelie’s fate.
Chapter 31
“Do you believe you can hide from me?” The low deep voice circled her dreams, hovering about the edge, faceless. “You will be mine. It is fated.”
She crouched down. Papa? She leaned closer and the hand grabbed her arm. She screamed and struggled against its grasp, fighting to pull away. A woman sprang forth from the pool of blood, still gripping her. Morrigu! Wearing her father’s ring!
No! Maere clenched the wrist with her right hand. She raised her left hand toward the man in black, the man she now realized was her uncle. You will not have me!
Eugis laughed loud and long. The goddess released her as the dream faded.
Maere awoke covered in sweat, her breath uneven and ragged. She lay still for a moment and stared at the sky, forcing herself to calm down. The remnants of the dream danced in front of her eyes, the haunting laughter filling her ears. How long must I run from him? Will I ever be free?
Dylan, sensing her movement, rose up on one elbow and turned toward Maere.
“He’s coming,” she whispered.
He didn’t need to ask of whom she spoke. He already knew.
Jorvik remained quiet, hidden by the dense underbrush, and listened. He shifted, watching Maere now, the same as he had since he’d released her.
She’d argued at the time she left him she needed no help, no protection. He thought better of arguing with her and sent her on her way. He’d already made the decision to follow her himself and see to her safety.
Dylan was talking now and, from the looks of it, Maere was none-too-pleased. He moved forward to hear their words.
“What do you mean Eugis has Seelie? How can that be?” Maere rubbed her eyes roughly, smearing angry tears across her cheeks. “We left her at the chapel. How did she find you in the first place?”
Dylan’s expression was grim. “Morrigu led her to the grotto. When I awakened, she insisted on coming with me to find you.”
Maere turned on him. “You shouldn’t have let her!”
“As if I had any choice in the matter.” He snorted. “The woman is as stubborn as you.”
Maere sank to the ground and pulled her knees against her chest. “We have to find her.”
“Agreed. But first, I would get you to Tintagel where you’ll be safe.” Dylan rolled his blanket and tied a strip of leather around the middle. “I won’t endanger you any longer.”
“‘Endanger’?” Maere’s head shot up. “It’s my choice to be here, not yours.”
Dylan reached for her hands and pulled her to her feet. His eyes never leaving hers, he spoke. “You are in more danger than you realize. Not just from Eugis, but from me as well.” Maere searched his eyes but he looked away. “My intentions have not been true.” Hard as the truth was to tell, he had to tell it anyway. “At the beginning of my journey, I sought you out more to be used as bait than to lay claim to our betrothal.”
“Bait? What in Heaven’s name are you talking about?”
“You say you remember your past.” Dylan was frustrated and angry, more with himself than with her. “Do you not remember the part about your powers being transferred to whomever you first bed? Have you no ken of that piece of history?”
“You make no sense, man.” Maere jerked her hands free.
“I make perfect sense. And this is the truth of it. The first man you take to your bed will share in your powers, maybe even take them entirely from you. It’s uncertain exactly what will happen,” Dylan explained.
“I care about none of this.” She crossed her arms and tapped her foot angrily. “Why are we even speaking of it? Finding Seelie is our concern now.”
“Haven’t you figured it out? This is why Eugis captured Seelie, mistaking her for you. This is why he murdered our parents and took you away. It’s why he’s tried to kill me. He wants you for himself. He wants your power.”
Maere closed her eyes. The man who had haunted her dreams for as long as she could remember teetered on the edge of her internal vision. The evil one she had seen had never been Dylan. It had been her uncle all along. But was he so intent he’d take his own niece to bed? Oh, of course he would. He’d already murdered his own kin so what would incest be to one such as him?
Maere stared hard at the man before her, his body nearly quaking with emotion. “So, tell me Dylan mac Connall, what part of this demon plan is yours? Where do you fit in?”
He swallowed, forcing the guilt back to the recesses of his conscience. “At first, I thought to use you to catch Eugis. You were coming of age, so I knew he’d come for you. Or I thought I might simply take you to bed and the powers would be mine. His plan would fail either way. He’d be dead or you’d be no use to him.”
Dear Mother. He was as evil as Eugis in his scheming. She didn’t know this man after all, not like she had started to believe she did. He could not be the Dylan she had grown up with. “And what is your plan now, sir?”
Dylan relaxed a little. “Only to see you to safety. Then to rescue Seelie and return with her to Tintagel where you’ll be.”
“And why have you changed your mind?” Maere circled him. “Surely you could take me any time? I am no match for your strength.” She stood before him, hands on her hips, defiant. “Do it now, man.” She raised her chin, saw the challenge she placed before him, the anger, reflected in his expression. “If you dare.”
Dylan yanked her by the arm and pulled her tight against him. One hand cupped the back of her head, the other held her hands together behind her. His lips met hers, rough, punishing, filled with all the longing and hate and love he’d bottled up inside himself these many years.
Maere pulled away and sneered. “Your father would be so proud of you, Dylan.”
She saw her words hit him like a blow to his gut. He dropped his arms and pushed her away. “Get your things. I’m taking you to Tintagel.” He eyed her. “No arguments.”
Jorvik smiled to himself. Maere possessed a strong spirit. She would make a fine bride for the young man. His thoughts pondered the young woman Seelie. She seemed important to Maere. Knowing Eugis, she would most likely not live long enough for Dylan to take Maere to Tintagel and return.
As long as Maere was with this Dylan, and they kept to the less-used trails, they’d be safe. They wouldn’t need his protection to make their way home. He still owed Maere for returning his father to him.
He stood and stretched, then walked silently back to his horse. He’d find this friend of the girl’s and return her to Maere. Alive.
Chapter 32
Dylan struggled to concentrate on the path before him, but the woman who clung to him made it damn near impossible. He shifted a little on the horse, trying to move forward so Maere’s soft breasts wouldn’t be pushing against his back. By the gods, it did no good! Her well-formed body continued to sway and bounce in unison with his as she slept.
He cursed silently. All his plans for Eugis’s retribution had practically flown away when he’d laid eyes on Maere.
He’d been fearful of what he’d find when he entered the convent walls, worried she’d be a shell of her former spirited self. Instead, he found her a vision in the glow of Magrethe’s candles, beautiful and rounded, and as headstrong as when she was a child. The woman Maere had become took his breath away. Suddenly he was alive with desire such as he’d never known, even with Morrigu.
Dylan squirmed again, glancing down at the legs hugging his. Spots of creamy skin showed through the tears in her woolen stockings. His hand moved, hovering, ready to touch, to caress. He knew in his heart and soul she’d be warm and as soft as down. His body roused and Dylan cursed out loud this time, dropping his hand back to the reins.
Behind him, Maere stirred. “Did you say
something?” she asked sleepily.
He felt her yawn and rub her eyes. “Talking to myself,” he grumbled. The motions of her arms made her breasts move against his back that much more. Even through the layers of clothing, he believed he could detect her nipples growing firm and hard.
Dylan took a deep breath. Steady yourself, man. You’ll never make it to Tintagel with your sanity intact if your thoughts keep wandering in this direction. Maere moved again, sliding against him as she righted herself in the saddle. His entire body stiffened.
“What’s the matter with you?” She pushed at his back with both hands. “You’re sitting strangely and it’s not at all comfortable.”
“Well, I’d hate for the lady to be discomfited,” he growled. “Shall we stop for the night so you might rest yourself from such a grueling ride?”
A sharp retort hovered on the edge of her tongue. No doubt the sour mood the man woke up in was still upon him. She supposed it didn’t make any sense to bait him, except that it might make her feel better. “Who do you think you are to speak to me so?” she demanded. “Try as you might, you do not intimidate me, Dylan mac Connall. Keep your evil temper to yourself!”
Dylan pulled the horse to a halt and jumped down. He turned to reach for Maere but she was already sliding off the opposite side. Their eyes locked for a moment, then her feet touched the ground and she was hidden behind the mount. “Do I need to remind you again what gives me the right?!” In two strides he was around the horse. She ducked out of his reach and scurried to the front of the mare, hugging its thick neck. Maybe she should have kept her thoughts to herself after all.
“You will stay away from me, sir.”
“It’s time you understood I’m not the boy you ordered about.” He gave a disgusted snort. “I do as I please and you’d do well to remember that.” He grabbed the horse’s reins and led it over to a patch of grass and underbrush.