Darkest Highlander

by Donna Grant

  “Anything is possible with coin.”

  “You act as though you have as much coin as you need.”

  He shrugged and leaned against the cave wall as he accepted the food from Sonya. “I do. I amassed quite a bit through the years. I’ve several places throughout Scotland in which I’ve kept coin hidden in case I needed it.”

  “Aren’t you afraid someone might find them?”

  “No’ unless they have wings.”

  TWENTY-SIX

  Sonya held onto Broc’s shoulders as she turned her head to peer at the ground below them. The mist and rain had disappeared overnight, just as he had predicted.

  She’d expected to see evidence of the burial mounds they had discovered the day before, but with the undulations and rocky outcroppings in the wide valley, she couldn’t see any.

  “Have we already past the mounds from yesterday?”

  Broc nodded. “We’re over them now.”

  “I cannot even see them.”

  “I know,” Broc said, his voice flat.

  In other words, he didn’t like that for once, being in the air wouldn’t give them an advantage. They were going to have to search on foot.

  Sonya blinked when a strand of hair flew into her eye as Broc dove to the ground. Her stomach jumped into her throat, but she wasn’t afraid. She loved the thrill of flying. It made her blood pound and her heart race.

  Broc landed softly and folded his wings, but he didn’t release her. Sonya looked into his dark eyes and tugged a strand of his blond hair near his jaw.

  “You don’t have to say it,” she said. “I will be careful.”

  He frowned, a muscle in his jaw jumping. “Stay near me.”

  It didn’t take her but a moment to realize why Broc was so tense. “You expect Deirdre to arrive today.”

  “I doona know when or where, but aye.”

  “We cannot leave without the artifact.”

  Broc sighed and looked over her head. “We’ll discuss that when the time comes.”

  “We’ll discuss it now.” If Sonya had learned anything about Warriors it was how stubborn they could be, and Broc most of all.

  “We’ve had this discussion. I realize how important the artifact is to our cause.”

  “Precisely,” she said. “Above all else, we must secure it and bring it back to MacLeod Castle.”

  “It could well mean your capture by Deirdre.”

  “I’m ready to die.”

  “I refuse to let you die!” he shouted.

  Sonya didn’t know who was more surprised by his outburst, her or him. He swore and dropped his arms from her as he raked a hand through his hair.

  “Broc,” she said and touched his arm to halt him. “I vow I will do anything and everything to stay out of Deirdre’s hands.”

  His gaze was hard, cold when he turned it to her. “Even if it means leaving the artifact?”

  “You know her and the wyrran better than most. You know how they will attack. You may need to take the artifact and leave me.”

  “Nay.”

  “Don’t be hasty in your response. I’m just one person. Compared to thousands, my life is meaningless.”

  Broc knew in his heart he would sacrifice the artifact for Sonya. She meant that much to him. Yet, he couldn’t tell her that. She would continue to argue the artifact was more important.

  He kept silent, which seemed to be all the answer she needed.

  “Good,” Sonya said with a smile. “Now let us begin our search.”

  He watched her turn away, her hands on her hips as she looked over the land. Her red hair was pulled back in another braid, but wisps of tendrils had escaped and curled becomingly about her face and neck.

  “Now that I know what we are looking for, I think I see a couple of entrances,” she said.

  Broc moved beside her and looked to where she pointed. “I believe you’re correct.”

  “I’ll begin checking and you can go see how close Deirdre is.”

  He raised a brow and waited for her to look at him before he said, “You do enjoy ordering me about.”

  A slow smile spread over her lips. “Ah, but you won’t argue about it because you know I’m right.”

  “This time. I’ll do a sweep of the area first looking for wyrran before I leave you.”

  She stroked his shoulder and down his arm before she lifted his large hand in hers. One of her fingers curved slowly over an indigo claw. She raised her amber gaze to his. “Be careful.”

  “I ask the same.”

  “Hurry back.”

  He would fly faster than he ever had just to return to her. After a quick, hard kiss, he jumped into the air.

  Sonya took a fortifying breath as Broc disappeared from sight. She knew he needed to check on how close Deirdre was, but she hated being without him. He would have stayed with her had he known, which is why she broached the subject first.

  She kept to the same plan as the day before, except now she could walk faster since she could see where she was going. If the weather had held the day before, they could have covered at least double the distance they had.

  The first mound she found had markings around the door, but the tomb itself didn’t look old enough to be the one Deirdre had spoken about.

  Since she couldn’t move the massive rock blocking the entrance into the burial mound, Sonya marked it by stacking three rocks atop each other near the steps before moving on to the next one.

  So it continued for the next hour. She had just found her fourth tomb when she heard the familiar sound of wings and looked up to find Broc landing beside her.

  His angular face was set in hard lines. “She’ll reach this valley in a matter of hours.”

  “But she still needs to search the tombs as we have.”

  Broc glanced away, which made Sonya’s stomach fill with lead. “Possibly. Or she will set about searching for us since she knows I’m here.”

  “I see.” Sonya had foolishly thought Deirdre would have to go about her search just as they had. Sonya should have known better.

  “Doona be too hard on yourself,” Broc said.

  “I don’t think like her, and I could put myself or others in jeopardy one day because of it.”

  “You doona think like her because you’ve had no contact with her. You doona know what she’s like, and for that you can be pleased. Let me think like her.”

  “And if you aren’t around?”

  “I’ll be around,” he vowed.

  Sonya nodded woodenly.

  “What have you found?”

  She swallowed. “This is the fourth mound. There are no markings on it.”

  “And the others?” he asked as his Warrior form vanished before her eyes.

  “There is one which might be a possibility. It’s over there,” she said and pointed. “I have three stones stacked on top of each other.”

  He nodded and smiled at her. “Clever. I’ll go see if it could be our tomb.”

  Sonya continued walking as she watched him. Broc didn’t fly this time, he ran. She could never get used to the speed in which a Warrior could move.

  He was at the burial mound and back again before she found her next one. “The one you discovered isn’t old enough. The carvings speak of a Celtic tribal leader, but that is all.”

  Sonya lifted her skirts with a nod and continued on. “We are only halfway through the valley.”

  “And easy to spot as well.”

  “If you have a better idea how to find this burial mound, now is the time to speak of it.”

  He chuckled. “I have nothing.”

  “Me either,” Sonya said, not able to mask the feeling of doom that began to sweep over her.

  “We will find it.”

  She smiled as his fingers closed around hers. Just having him beside her gave her the strength she needed to keep going. Sonya squared her shoulders and lengthened her stride.

  It wasn’t long before they stopped beside what looked like a small tunnel in the g
round. There were no steps, just a slight slope. Grass hung over the edge of the tunnel and rocks almost covered it.

  “I’ll have a quick look,” Broc said as he moved the last rock. He glanced back at her with a grin before going into the tunnel feetfirst.

  She winced when his wide shoulders almost didn’t squeeze through. He had to angle his body and hunch his shoulders just to make it.

  Sonya stepped up to the entrance and peered inside, but without a Warrior’s eyesight, she couldn’t penetrate the darkness.

  “It’s a burial mound,” Broc said. His voice echoed slightly as it reached her.

  “Is it the one we are looking for?”

  “Nay.”

  Sonya glanced at the sky and let out a breath. There was a scraping noise and then Broc was squirming out of the tunnel.

  “So the passageway is the entrance?” she asked.

  “Of a sort. Once you are through it you are inside the earth, but there was room enough for me to stand. It is built like the others. This one, however, has no’ been disturbed.”

  She glanced at the hole which he had come out of and grimaced. “And now I know why.”

  Dirt and debris smudged Broc’s bare chest and arms, but he didn’t seem to mind. “Come,” he bade her as they moved on.

  The sun rose higher as they continued their search to no avail. Sweat trickled down the side of Sonya’s face, her only relief the cool wind that came off the mountains.

  Broc left her again to ascertain Deirdre’s position. He returned looking grimmer than before. Sonya didn’t have to ask what he had seen. The answer was there in his gaze.

  She couldn’t believe they were going to fail. “I thought for sure we would have found the mound by now.”

  “Me as well,” Broc confessed. “There isna much of this valley left for us to explore. We can then move onto another valley.”

  “You move faster than I. Finish our search.”

  Broc handed her the water skin and nodded. “Doona stay here. Keep walking to me.”

  “Of course.”

  Once he was gone, Sonya let her shoulders droop. She had been so sure they would leave Glencoe with the artifact because they had reached the area before Deirdre.

  Soon they would have to decide whether to leave or fight Deirdre for the artifact. A tremor of dread went through Sonya at the prospect. A month earlier she might have stood against Deirdre, but now, she knew her magic wasn’t strong enough.

  And she had Broc. That made all the difference.

  Sonya glanced over to find Broc running across the land, pausing when he found a mound. What was it about this area which called to the Celts to bury their dead? It was beautiful, no doubt, but there wasn’t a place in the Highlands that wasn’t awe-inspiring.

  Sonya started after Broc. She walked in a straight line toward him while he continued to zigzag across the valley. Sonya glanced over her shoulder as she remembered Broc stating how easily they could be spotted.

  She quickened her steps and leapt over a rock when Broc called her name. It was the catch in his voice, the hope and surprise and excitement that made her dash to him.

  They were at the end of the valley, where two other mountains joined. Broc stood beside what looked like a jumble of rocks, but as Sonya drew closer she saw the squared stones.

  Her lips parted in wonder as she realized that what she had thought was a small hill in the valley was actually the burial mound.

  Broc’s smile was huge, infectious. “We found it.”

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  “I knew we would,” Sonya whispered.

  Broc could well understand her astonishment. He pointed in front of them about five paces. “Look at the long, oval rock there. Do you see the spirals?”

  “I do.”

  “That’s how I knew it was a burial mound. I almost missed it, the markings are so faded.”

  Sonya knelt before the rock and ran her fingers along the etchings. The Celts used the spirals to symbolize growth, expansion, as well as cosmic energy. “This feels … different.”

  “How?”

  “Older than any of the others we have found, but it’s also the hint of magic I feel. Don’t you feel it?”

  Broc concentrated, but shook his head. “The only magic I feel is yours. Come, let us see the rest.”

  They walked around the long boulder. An archway of stone that was nearly covered by grass and weeds was their next find. It led into the huge mound, drowning out most of the light.

  “No carvings,” Sonya said.

  Broc used his claws and cut away some of the grass. “Nay, nothing.”

  They stepped beneath the archway, and that’s when Broc felt the magic. It pulsed around him like a heartbeat, steady and strong.

  Beside him, Sonya paused as well, a smile of contentment on her face. “You feel it now, don’t you?” she asked.

  “I do.”

  “This is the tomb,” she said as she turned her head to him. “I know it.”

  Broc’s eyesight let him see into the semidarkness of the mound. This was different from the others they had seen. There was a feeling of a great passage of time, as though the mound had been waiting to be discovered.

  “The doorway is there,” Sonya said and pointed to her left.

  Broc was able to see the door, but he knew Sonya’s eyesight wouldn’t allow her to. “How?”

  “The magic,” she whispered. “It is very strong. Strong, old, and so very pure. It is mie magic which protects this place. I’ve never felt any magic other than my own before.”

  Broc didn’t want to disturb the tomb. Not because he feared what might happen to him, but because the magic and the artifact within were special.

  So many Druids had died over the years. There weren’t many left, and a place that held such magic should be left alone.

  “Deirdre may no’ find the tomb,” he said.

  Sonya tucked a curl behind her ear and smiled sadly. “The wyrran can smell magic. It will lead them here.”

  “The magic is felt more inside the archway. Outside, I barely felt it. Maybe the wyrran willna feel it either.”

  Her brow furrowed. “You don’t want to open the tomb.”

  It wasn’t a question. Broc shook his head. “It doesna seem right.”

  “Nay, it doesn’t, but we must. If we don’t, Deirdre will find a way, regardless that she cannot enter herself. She will destroy all that is within. We will only take the artifact.”

  He knew she was right, but he would rather have left the tomb undisturbed. Broc walked to the doorway and saw the many and various etchings around the door. Time had not touched them. They were as deep and clear as if they had been made the day before.

  “Amazing,” Sonya said as she ran her hands over them.

  Broc stood just a stride away but it was as if he was immersed in magic. It made his skin prickle and itch as it ran from his head down to his toes. Almost as if it were learning him.

  Sonya moved closer and took his hand. Her magic mixed with the other. As soon as her magic touched the other, Broc felt the heaviness which had surrounded him begin to ebb.

  “What did you do?” he asked.

  Sonya shrugged. “Nothing. Why? What happened?”

  “I could have sworn the magic was learning me and trying to decide if I was friend or foe.”

  “And you think my being here helped?”

  Broc looked at the etchings. “I know it did.”

  “What do the markings say?”

  He leaned in to read. “They are spells. They speak of violent death and certain doom if anyone enters the tomb.”

  “A Druid would not put such spells around a tomb lightly. For a mie to have crafted such enchantments is unheard-of. We do not harm others. This would be something a drough would do.”

  “But you felt mie magic.”

  She nodded. “There’s no doubt as to what I felt. It is mie magic.”

  Once again doubt spread through Broc about opening the tomb. “Deirdr
e cannot get inside. Neither can her wyrran. If we leave now, she might find it, but she will no’ be able to get inside.”

  “She will eventually.” Sonya squeezed his hand and lifted her face to his. “The battle with Deirdre needs to end. Everyone who fights against her tyranny—Druid, mortal and Warrior alike—knows our lives could end in the fight. We have to do this.”

  Broc sighed, knowing her logic was sound. “You’re right. We need to do this.”

  “I need you to read me exactly what the spells say.”

  Broc wasted no time in deciphering the ancient language. The more he told Sonya, the more her brow furrowed and her lips pinched. By the time he was done, she didn’t look quite as eager as before.

  “It is a good thing I’m here with you,” Sonya said as she rubbed her hands together.

  “Why is that?”

  “Because without me you wouldn’t be able to touch the door without dying.”

  Broc eyed the stone that acted as the door. “How so?”

  “You were correct when you said the magic was studying you. It knows you are a Warrior. To the ancients, all Warriors were evil. They never thought there could be ones who fought against their god and did what was right.”

  “So, in the mind of the Druids who put in the spells, I’m as evil as Deirdre?” he asked.

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Why did Deirdre think I could get in?”

  Sonya shrugged. “Maybe she knows a secret I do not.”

  “Nay. She said me, no’ just any Warrior.”

  “Interesting,” Sonya mumbled. “Maybe it has something to do with you betraying her. What did it feel like when the magic touched you?”

  “My skin tingled. It was what it felt like when you allowed me to hear the trees.”

  Sonya smiled then, her eyes tender as she looked at him. “If the magic wasn’t painful, then perhaps you don’t need me. It recognizes that you may have a god inside you, but you are a good man.”

  “I’d rather have you with me nonetheless.”

  She laughed, the sound music to his ears. “I wouldn’t dream of allowing you to go alone.”

  “What do we do?”

  “I’m going to touch the markings. My magic will pour inside it. Then, I want you to open the door.”