He had to get to Sidney. He could not fail her again.
Dermot forced his panic aside. Resolved, he poured all of his will into manifesting a form. Nothing happened. Again he tried without success. Picturing Sidney, alone and afraid, Dermot fixed her in his mind’s eye. Every particle of energy he held inside him he forced into the effort. Gradually, something shifted the gray mist, and an outline of himself appeared. The energy it took strained his reserves, and still he persisted. With a pop, he came into being.
Gasping for breath, he doubled over with his hands on his thighs. It took several precious moments for him to recover, and he had none to spare. He surveyed his surroundings. He had no idea where he was. All sense of direction had been lost in the swirls and eddies surrounding him. “Shite.” Sidney needed him, and the knowledge drove him to action.
Dermot pushed his awareness outward, seeking Áine’s energy trace like a bloodhound after scent. Somehow, she’d managed to erase any evidence of her passing, but another trace called to him, leading him forward. Sidney?
Was she aware of what she’d done? She’d manipulated the elements, something that had taken years of training for him to accomplish. The trail she’d created stretched before him like a ribbon of emotion, rich, vibrant and unmistakably hers. Elation soared. How had she done it? Could it be that some part of her still retained a measure of Mairéad’s knowledge? He followed the path. The endless gray made it impossible to judge distance or direction. He had no idea where his destination lay.
The trail became lost as it twisted and merged with other traces. Dermot froze and used his deeper vision to seek the way forward. Áine’s magic spread like a web in every direction. She’d left safeguards, and they obscured Sidney’s trace. Áine wouldn’t have done that unless he was close. He had no choice but to risk being discovered. Maybe he’d be lucky for once, and she would be away.
“Sidney,” he shouted into the mist and waited. “Sidney,” he shouted again. “Call to me, lass. I need to hear your voice to find you.”
Sidney awoke with a start. She strained to hear or see anything in the void. Everything was the same as it had been. Nothing ever changed. She didn’t know if it was day or night, if she’d been there an hour, or a hundred years. Pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes, she tried to will herself back to sleep. Dreaming was her only escape from the endless gray surrounding her on all sides.
She sat up fast. A voice. She’d heard a shout. Fear shot through her. Still as stone she listened. Other than faeries, what sort of creatures existed in this place? There it was again, and this time she recognized the sound. Dermot. Relief washed through her, and hopeful tears dampened her cheeks. She jumped up and ran toward the edge of the pavilion in the direction she’d heard his call. “I’m here,” she yelled into the mist. “Over here!”
“Keep shouting, love. I’ll follow your voice,” he called back from a distance impossible to gauge.
“Here,” she shouted. “This way. I’m—” Invisible fingers closed around her throat, cutting her off. Reaching for her neck, she fought the unseen force, unable to breathe or utter a sound. She stomped on the floor and slapped a column until her hands stung, anything to make a sound Dermot could follow. Black spots danced in front of her. Fighting to remain conscious, she removed one of her shoes and used it to hit the stone. She tried her hardest to lead Dermot to her.
Movement stirred the curtain of fog. She kept pounding and leaned against the column to remain upright. Her hands went to her throat in one last desperate effort before blackness took her.
Dermot lunged forward, catching her as she collapsed. “Áine,” he roared. “Let her go. Your fight is with me.”
Sidney lay in his arms. Her face had a bluish tinge. Dermot placed her on the floor, preparing to use magic to free her, when her chest heaved. She coughed, and took great gulps of air into her lungs. With a strangled cry, she threw her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. “You came for me. I…I thought I’d die here.” She sobbed against him.
“Hush, now. I’ll find a way to get us away.” Dermot stroked her hair.
“I hate this place, and I hate her.” Sidney raised her eyes to his. “You lied to me, Dermot. I trusted you, and you lied. You’re going to die when the curse ends. How could you not tell me?”
“Can we argue about his later? We need to leave—now.” Too late. Áine’s malevolent presence raised his hackles before he saw her.
“How very touching.” Áine’s voice dripped disdain. “A damsel in distress, and in rides our knight in shining armor.” She studied her nails. “Not that it will do you any good.”
Dermot rose, pulling Sidney up at the same time. He set her on her feet and shielded her with his body. “Let her go. Send her back. She’s innocent in all of this. Your quarrel is with me and me alone. Sidney had no part in your daughter’s death.”
“Hmm, true, she had no part in Mairéad’s death, but she has everything to do with ending the curse. I have a better idea, Druid. Leave immediately, or your little sex-toy dies.”
A choking sound came from Sidney. Anger and fear for her flooded his senses, and he reacted instinctively. Holding up his palms, he let loose a blast of energy that sent Áine flying out of the temple into the mist. He grabbed Sidney’s hand and pulled her out of the structure. Running in the direction he’d come from, he searched for Sidney’s trace leading back to the sealed portal.
The way in was closed to humans. He prayed the exit was not. Though he had no physical form, Sidney did, and he had no idea how to free her. The mist cleared in a brilliant flash of electric light. Áine stood before them with her hands raised. Dermot’s body seized, his arms and legs froze in place. Frantic, he envisioned a shield of protection and sent it over Sidney.
“Leaving so soon, Druid? You’ve only just arrived.”
“You’re breaking the laws of your kind, Áine. Not to mention the conditions your father set for the end of the curse.”
“I will not let you win.” Áine’s eyes swirled with electric blue light.
“Why not?” Sidney cried from behind him. “What’s the point after all these years? Get over it already. Isn’t there some kind of faerie therapy you can go through here?”
“Stay out of this, lass.” Dermot worked to undo the binding magic Áine had laid upon him. He was almost there, almost…
“Dermot, there’s more to this story than anyone knows. I don’t know what it is, but I can feel it. Maybe it’s something I remember from that life.” Sidney laid a hand on his shoulder, and a burst of energy flowed into him. She gave him her strength. Did she know what she was doing? No. She couldn’t. Her life had been entirely human without any exposure to magic.
“Listen to the Druid, human. Stay out of this. His flimsy magic will not protect you.”
“I’m tired of being the pawn in your twisted game. Both of you have manipulated me, and I want to go home.” She stepped in front of Dermot, her hands fisted at her sides. “I had nothing to do with what happened all those years ago, and I don’t appreciate the position you’ve put me in.”
Glorious in her anger, Dermot couldn’t take his eyes off his braw lass. Even though her actions choked him with fear for her safety. “Hush, Sidney, do no’ push her any further.”
She glared at him over her shoulder. “Don’t tell me what to do. You got me into this mess, and you lied to me. Why didn’t you tell me ending the curse would kill you?”
“I was going to tell you. Remember? I said I’d tell you everything the day we went sightseeing.”
Sidney spared him one more glare and swung back to face Áine. “If any harm comes to me, you’ll pay. In your narcissistic, vindictive little mind, you think you’re immune to consequences, but—”
Sidney’s diatribe was cut short. She reached for her throat, her eyes bulging. The last thread binding him slipped away. Had she ranted to buy him time? Dermot gathered his energy and built an image in his mind. He couldn’t kill Áine, nor could sh
e kill him, but he would try his damnedest to protect Sidney. He conjured a thick veil of ice to encapsulate Áine, projecting the image into physical form using all the power Sidney had lent him.
The moment Áine was trapped, Sidney gasped for breath. Dermot grabbed her hand and started running. He wouldn’t last. Already the edges of his physical form were unraveling. They had to get to the border before he gave out altogether.
Then what?
Somehow he’d find a way to blast through. “Quiet now, lass,” he cautioned as he led the way. “I’ll throw an invisibility spell over us, but I canna hide us for long. The weaker I get, the faster Àine will break free.”
“How can I help?” Sidney gripped his hand with both of hers.
“You already have. Did you no’ feel the power you sent me back there? I could no’ have trapped Áine as I did without it. Hush now, love.” They moved quietly. Dermot sent his senses before them as the mist came rolling back. Sidney’s ribbon trail had faded. It was barely discernible now.
A shattering explosion behind them sent the fog swirling. Dermot kept going, towing Sidney along behind him. He didn’t sense it coming and had no time to react. A burst of magic laid him out flat on the ground. Áine loomed above him. Her eyes had turned an iridescent blue, and her skin glowed and crackled with power.
“Your magic is no match for mine, Druid. Your pathetic attempt to rescue the mortal will do you no good.”
Spent, Dermot could no longer hold the illusion of his physical form. He faded in and out of being. Desperation clawed at him. He didn’t have the energy left to fight, and Áine’s magic pressed in around him from all sides.
“Dermot.” Sidney fell to her knees beside him. “What’s wrong? What is she doing to you?”
“I’m all right.” He shook his head. “Get away, Sidney. Áine can’t…” He faded. Only a faint outline of his body remained. Sidney’s distress became a beacon, drawing him back. With a Herculean effort, he forced himself into form and turned to his nemesis. “What will it take to keep Sidney safe?”
Áine loomed over him. “I want everything to remain as it is. I’ll wipe Sidney’s memory clean and send her back to her home once the anniversary has passed. If you interfere, she dies.” She lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “Either way, I’m satisfied.”
He nodded, and tried to keep from looking at Sidney. If Áine guessed how he felt…
“Wait a minute.” Sidney stood to face Áine. “I have a say. I carry Mairéad’s soul. I’m the one who was murdered in that lifetime.”
Sidney turned to Dermot. He tried to look away—and failed. Weak as he was, he couldn’t prevent all he felt for her from rising to the surface. Powerless to hide his need to keep her safe he begged her, “Please, love, be still. This is the only way I have to protect you.”
“I won’t agree to this.” Sidney’s eyes filled with tears. “We can’t let her dictate what happens. We can’t.” She reached for his hand, and grasped only mist as he faded from her. Dermot looked on, helpless to act as his body dissipated.
Áine’s eyes narrowed, and her expression grew pensive. “No,” she shouted and stomped her foot. She glared at the two of them and paced in agitation. “This cannot be. I will not allow this to continue.”
Dread and fear erupted inside him. Áine had seen his heart. He’d placed Sidney right back into peril. “I swear I’ll stay away from her,” he rasped.
“I won’t have it. Swear all you will, Druid. It will not help you—or her.” The mist darkened and danced wildly around them. “I can see now there is only one solution. I must set my daughter’s spirit free.” Àine turned her glare toward Sidney and raised her palms, directing her deadly intent full force.
Sidney fell to the ground beside him, writhing in agony. “Dermot, help…me. Please!”
He tried to throw off the force binding him, but he couldn’t move. Gods, he couldn’t bear to see Sidney suffer. Her agony was his. “Stop. Let her go. I’ll do anything you want, anything.” He turned to Áine. “Kill me instead.” Áine’s twisted laughter shredded his heart.
The ribbon of energy Sidney had laid for him flashed through his mind. She possessed magic. He turned toward her prostate form, pulling all of his resources together for one last desperate effort. The high king would not come for him, but he might respond to Sidney.
“Look at me,” he demanded. “Sidney, look at me.” Dermot poured every ounce of compulsion he could muster into the command. She turned to him, her eyes glazed with pain and terror. “Call for help. Reach out for Dagda Mór.”
“No!” Áine shrieked.
“Don’t…know…how.” Sidney’s eyes remained fused to his.
“You do, lass. Concentrate on his name. Do this for me. Dagda Mór is soul kin to you. Dagda Mór. Say it, Sidney.”
Sidney’s mouth moved, but no sound came out. Her eyelids fluttered shut, and her body slackened. Dermot went out of his mind with rage and grief, helpless to act on either emotion. He lost all illusion of corporeal form, and could no longer call it back. He sent a call for help, fearing it would be disregarded—certain it was too late.
Áine came to stand over him, a look of triumph on her face. “I win.”
Chapter Eighteen
The temple, Áine, and Sidney’s lifeless body disappeared, leaving Dermot adrift in an endless gray cloud. He no longer cared. Maybe if he merged with the mist and let himself spread over the expanse of Avalon, he’d lose the ability to think or feel. Perhaps this was as close to a cure for immortality as he’d ever get.
A litany began in his fractured mind, an enumeration of all those he’d disappointed during his pathetic life. It all began with his father—hadn’t it?—Dermot had let his father down by killing his mother while she gave him life. Next came Mairéad, whom he could not love, and whose dying request he’d failed to honor. His men—he’d given them his word, sworn to end their cursed existence.
Sidney’s image seared his conscience. Her life had been cut short because of him. Gods, the pain was too great to contain. Dermot envisioned his essence dispersing, joining the eddies and currents buoying him. He let himself go and waited for oblivion.
It didn’t come.
Instead, a powerful force exerted control over him, drawing him into a black, swirling vortex.
Zoe slammed the door of her rental car and stared openmouthed at the medieval view before her. Thomas hadn’t been joking. They did live in a castle. With a shake of her head, she dragged her suitcase up the stairs, rang the doorbell and waited. No one answered. Several moments passed before she rang again.
When no one arrived to open the door the second time, Zoe’s heart gave a painful wrench. No. I can’t be too late. I can’t. This was the day. She couldn’t bear the thought of not being with Thomas when the curse ended. Turning to survey the grounds, she hoped to see someone who might help her find him. Had they all deserted the place? A lump formed in her throat, and her eyes filled with tears.
God, don’t let me be too late.
She hadn’t traveled all this way to give up now. Zoe tried the door. It wasn’t locked, and she let herself into a large foyer. Angry voices echoed down the corridor from the right. Relieved and puzzled, she left her things and followed the sound.
Zoe’s eyes widened. About a dozen men filled a large dining hall, some paced, a few pounded the table—all were red-faced and shouting.
“What the hell is going on here?” She spoke quietly, but the effect was instantaneous. A hush fell over the room as they turned to stare at her in unison. Zoe cleared her throat. “I’m looking for Thomas.” Niall and Donald moved toward her, their expressions grim.
“What are you doing here, lass?” Niall frowned.
“You have to ask? Really?” Zoe narrowed her eyes at them. “I know what day this is. Where is he?”
Donald glanced at the other men. “This is Zoe LeBlanc,” he announced, “Thomas’s fiancée.” Several mouths fell open. Donald turned back to her. “Thomas is in Der
mot’s stillroom. He left orders no’ to be disturbed.”
“What’s a stillroom, and why is Thomas there?”
“It’s where Dermot practices his Druidic arts.” Donald’s eyes wouldn’t meet hers. “And, um, Thomas is in there to give himself a crash course in magic.”
“Magic? Why on earth would he do that?” The shouting and arguing resumed with a vengeance, and everyone gave her their opinions at once.
“Dermot and Sidney are lost in the Mists of Avalon,” Niall told her. “Thomas is looking through Dermot’s books to see if anything can be done.”
“Mists of Avalon?” Zoe frowned, her head spinning. “Sidney is lost?”
“Aye, in the realm of the fae.” Donald nodded.
“Can you point me toward this stillroom?”
“I can do better than that, lass. I’ll take you there.” Niall gestured toward the staircase. “This way.”
“Thanks.” She followed Niall up an old stone staircase beyond the dining room and down a long corridor.
“This is it.” He stopped at a large door made of oak and knocked. “Oy, Thomas, someone’s here to see you.” Bowing slightly, Niall started to back away. “I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything, I’ll be downstairs where you found us.”
“Who is it?” Thomas bellowed from inside.
She swallowed hard and opened the door. Thomas sat at a table amidst several piles of ancient-looking books. He needed a shave and his hair stood on end. Lord, even in this state he looked too gorgeous for words.
He lifted bloodshot eyes to her, his expression dazed. “Zoe?”
It broke her heart to see him so haggard. All her worries and fears came back in a rush, and she burst into tears.
“Leannan, what are you doing here?” Thomas rushed to take her into his arms. “What’s wrong?”
Heart of the Druid Laird Page 21