Immortal Desires (Well of Souls)

by Eno, Laura

  "Then they are lost to us?" Robert asked.

  "Not necessarily. A Druid would be able to penetrate their wards." The hooded robe turned toward Ian and his mind burned with the intensity of being scrutinized. "Your Immortal powers can be temporarily stripped, freeing you to enter their realm with ordinary weapons."

  "But mortal weapons canna kill a Conrí," Ian protested.

  "True, but they would suffice as a distraction for a Druid of your ability—at least long enough to free the captive humans."

  "And if he dies while unable to use his Immortal powers…?" Robert seemed angered at the suggestion.

  The robe shrugged. "It is his choice whether to try this or not, Kyndeyrn. The question is not for you to answer."

  Ian nodded. He might have a choice but there was only one honorable answer. "I will go."

  "And I'm going with him," Robert declared.

  "You canna help me." Ian gripped Robert's shoulder and pulled his attention away from the Council member. "You're no a Druid. You'd have no power at all to protect yourself."

  "I can still fight alongside you, my young friend. We will go together."

  "It is decided," the woman said, cutting off any further protests that Ian would have made. "Prepare yourselves to leave at nightfall." She faded out in another burst of light, leaving Ian to glare at Robert for his foolishness.

  "Why are you doing this?" Ian asked later that evening as the sun dipped behind the Flatirons. Robert had avoided him all day as they each made preparations to leave. Now they stood in a meadow as Ian checked the sword strapped across his back one more time. Knives hung from his belt and peeked out from his boots as well. He noticed Robert bristled with as much weaponry as he did.

  "You would do the same for me." Robert's calm words shut Ian up. It was true and he didn't have an argument prepared for that.

  The gloaming settled in, the deep shades of orange transforming into purple. The first star appeared overhead, then a Council member arrived before them. Ian didn't know if it was the same one until she spoke. "It's time. Are you both still prepared to go?"

  They each answered, Ian shooting one last look at Robert before giving up on trying to convince him to stay. Robert was as proud a warrior as he was. Ian had no right to dishonor him by refusing his aid.

  Light enveloped them both and Ian staggered a bit as a force tugged at his body.

  "Don't fight the sensation," she said. "Relax and let the magic go."

  Ian felt the chill of the wind upon his skin and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end from the cold. He hadn't felt those sensations in five hundred years.

  Robert rubbed his arms, his mouth dropping open. "It's cold out here. I never realized what that really meant."

  ***

  Otherworld, outside of mortal time

  The light flashed around them and they came to stand on a barren strip of land, caught between a mountain and a forest. The sky gave off light but didn't have a sun hanging overhead. Ian reached out with his senses and felt the magic shimmering like a wall in the mountain's direction.

  "This is as close as I can transport you," the Council member said. "You'll have to arrive back at this spot for me to send you back again. May your journey be a success." She faded away without any further instructions. Ian and Robert glanced at each other and started walking.

  "How do you feel?" Ian asked after a few minutes. He felt mortal again but at least it was familiar to him. This was not a state of being that Robert had ever experienced before.

  "Rather disoriented, actually. I can no longer hear your thoughts, only my own. It's an odd sensation." Robert stopped and wiped his brow, gazing at the moisture on his hand. "I'm sweating."

  Ian laughed at the comical look on Robert's face. "Aye, 'tis warm here. Start walking toward the mountain before you melt."

  "What mountain? All I see is flat land to the horizon."

  "Interesting. You canna see the magic shimmering in the distance either, I suppose?"

  "No, nothing." A frown formed on Robert's face. "I hope that it's only an illusion of the barrier and I'll be able to see the mountain once we cross through."

  An uneasiness settled over Ian. "What do you mean?"

  "Forget it." He sounded irritated now. "I'm sure the Conrí wouldn't expend the energy to block the mountain itself with illusion. What would be the point of it, here in the Otherworld? The curtain is enough to warn of Aeneas trying to enter…unless the mountain itself is created with magic."

  They walked on in silence after that. Ian couldn't begin to understand Robert's frustration with being blind to magic, though he sympathized with the Immortal. He imagined it might be like waking up to darkness in the middle of an enemy camp and having to stumble your way around. He shuddered at the notion.

  The magic fell directly in front of them now, the undulating motion like a sheer waterfall of the finest silk. Robert walked through it before Ian could stop him, apparently feeling nothing at all. Trusting that the Council knew what they were talking about, Ian stepped through, feeling only the slightest resistance to his Druid powers.

  "Did we pass through it?" Robert asked.

  "Aye. Can you see the mountain now?"

  "No. All I see is a small mound about the size of a house."

  Ian looked in the direction Robert pointed, seeing only a huge rock face rising to a peak far above them. Excitement took hold and he grinned at his disconsolate mentor. "Do you know what this means?"

  "Yes, it's a mountain infused with magic and I'm blind to it," Robert snapped back and folded his arms across his chest with a sour look on his face.

  Ian swung his head from side to side, sending his hair flying with the motion. "Nay. You can see a natural formation inside the mountain."

  "So?"

  "Can you see any Conrí? The illusion of the mountain doesna stop your vision. You see through it."

  "No, I don't see anybody. What are you getting at?"

  "I think they are underground and the entrance is the mound that only you can see."

  Robert's face lit up with a smile. "What are we waiting for then?"

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Robert walked through the rock face of the mountain and disappeared before Ian could stop him. He lifted his hand to touch the surface. Unyielding rock scraped at his skin.

  "Robert, I canna see you anymore." An arm passed back through and grabbed his shirt, tugging on him. It didn't help. "Let go and come back here before you bash my head in."

  "Sorry." Robert materialized next to him. "I thought it might help break the illusion."

  "It didna." Ian rubbed at the abrasion on his forehead. "I canna go in that way. We'll have to use the entrance but at least you'll be able to guide us to the mound."

  They made their way through the cave entrance and Ian gawked at the maze of trails crisscrossing above his head in the hollow core. If Robert wasn't with him, he could spend a lifetime wandering around with no notion of where he was going.

  "What do you see?" Robert asked.

  "Different trails. It's built like a honeycomb, with paths leading up into the mountain, all designed to keep someone from discovering the true underground entrance." He admired the ingenuity of the architecture. It was brilliant.

  Ian walked a few steps in the direction they needed to take when Robert stopped him. "You're walking in mid-air."

  This would be harder than he thought. "The only flat path leads away from our destination."

  "Eventually it must wind around," Robert said. "At least I won't lose sight of it."

  Ian took every flat path he came to but the branches often led to dead-ends and they had to backtrack. They were finally making some progress when the path opened into a deep chasm before continuing on the other side. He scuffed at the ground with his boot, listening to the pebbles cascade down the side before hitting bottom. How long would it take him to scale down the canyon and climb up the other side?

  Robert turned and looked at him. "Why did
you stop?" He hovered over the crevice, walking on air as far as Ian could see.

  "You're standing over a chasm. I canna walk on air the way you can." Ian kicked at the dirt and more rocks flew over the side.

  Robert grunted and looked down at his feet. "Interesting."

  "Is that all you have to say?" Ian glared at him, muscles tightening into knots as his frustration mounted.

  "I wonder who would win if I led you across the open space?" Robert murmured in an idle manner.

  "What are you saying?"

  "Which is stronger here—your illusion or my reality? If I held onto you, would I safely pull you to the other side or would you pull me into the illusion, killing us both?" Robert tapped a finger on his chin while he thought about it.

  "Since you could no pull me through the rock face outside, I dinna think it would work."

  Robert locked his eyes onto Ian's face. "Can you suppress your Druid magic?"

  "I dinna ken. I havena tried before." Ian called upon more magic to settle into a trance, then sought to submerge the magic into a corner of his mind. After several minutes, he opened his eyes to find a faint outline of dirt spreading over the canyon like a bridge of sorts.

  "I think it's working. I see the dirt but it's a ghost image."

  "Good. Lock arms with me and believe that solid ground is under your feet."

  Beads of sweat dotted Ian's face as he linked arms with Robert and took a step over the edge. The ground held and he took two more.

  "You're getting heavier," Robert warned as Ian started to sink on the fifth step.

  The strain of holding his magic back caused Ian to shake and lose his concentration. The sensation of falling became closer to being his reality. Ian fought harder and felt his body lift again but he couldn't hold it much longer. "Run!"

  The edge of the cliff hit Ian in the chest as they reached the other side and Robert had to pull him up onto solid ground again. Ian lay on the ground, panting. "I dinna ken if I'll be able to go back out this way."

  Robert pulled him up. "You'll be able for whatever's necessary. I have faith in you."

  "At least you'll be able to run the mortals out of here in a straight line. The Conrí won't see you through this maze of rock. I'll stay behind and fight to give you enough time to get them back to the meeting point." Ian held up his hand when Robert opened his mouth to argue with him, pinning him down with a stare until his mentor acquiesced with a nod of understanding. It was the only way this would work and they both knew it.

  The low mound sat in front of them now, its opening little more than a crawlspace before widening into a chamber. Steps curved down into an underground cavern filled with a soft light.

  "I can't see a thing," Robert whispered.

  Ian blew out a frustrated sigh. "The lighting in here must be magic. Hold onto my shoulder and I'll guide you." How would Robert be able to defend himself if he couldn't see? "Mayhap there's light where the mortals are being held."

  Ian kept walking, listening for any sounds while Robert stumbled behind him. The next chamber held a torch with real fire. They both could see again. The cave also held three of the Conrí, swords already drawn and waiting for them to step inside.

  Drawing both sword and knife, Ian yelled and charged the guards. Robert was at his side in an instant, blades arcing in a dance they'd perfected over five hundred years of practicing together.

  "Get the mortals," Ian shouted as he swung toward the chest of one guard. He couldn't kill an Immortal with the weapon he now held but he could temporarily maim one.

  One guard stepped into Ian's path, her bronze skin glowing in the firelight. He saw Robert rear back in surprise and her eyes narrow into slits. There wasn't time to think on it, though.

  "Go!" Ian swung at the woman and missed.

  "Kyndeyrn, stop," she hissed, taking her eyes off of Ian for a moment.

  That was all the distraction Ian needed. He sliced her arm with a downward swing. Her sword flew from her hand, spinning end over end…and hit Robert in the back. The man crumpled to the ground, his blood mixing with the sandy floor and staining it a dark shade of crimson.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Highlands, November 1505

  The wedding gown billowed around her legs in the cold wind as Deanna hurried across the bailey toward the warmth of the twin bonfires…and Ian. Just the thought of him quickened her blood and lessened the chill. She'd really made it back here. A nervous giggle escaped her throat and she turned her head to find Isobel smiling at her.

  "Nervous?" The woman moved with graceful strides in her long skirts, a trick that Deanna hadn't mastered yet. Her future mother-in-law was an elegant woman.

  "I was just wondering if everyone would forgive me if I screamed out my happiness at being back."

  Isobel chuckled. "I'm sure most of them would. A few may think you're daft."

  Isobel had caught her up on the past three months since she'd disappeared while she helped Deanna dress. Deanna would have a few things to say to Ian in private about the risks he'd taken in harassing the Cailleach but the lengths he went to get her back showed how much he really loved her. How could she fault him for that?

  Ian reached out his hand as she approached him, looking resplendent in his kilt and dress shirt. His hair was pulled back in a leather tie and although Deanna preferred it wild and free, she contented herself with knowing it would be later. Thoughts of bedding her husband sent a hot flame of desire coursing deep into her belly. Ian's smile widened as if he'd experienced the same thought.

  People stirred in the bailey, excited to witness the impromptu ceremony. They'd already been there to celebrate Samhuinn so the additional surprise made for a lively bunch.

  Deanna caught a glimpse of Alyth, her mouth drawn in a bitter line of hatred, before she fled the circle. Deanna put the girl out of her mind. Nothing could dampen her elation on this day.

  The crowd fell silent as Ian turned to face her. Deanna felt the slight tremor of his hand, though the internal earthquake that rumbled through her own body caused her knees to wobble and tilt. It was a miracle she still stood upright.

  "In my family, 'tis traditional to use our own vows as passed down from those who came before us. I'll say each line and you repeat it after me." His voice calmed the fluttering of her heart and she nodded her understanding. He smiled and began.

  Two hearts as one,

  Two souls entwined,

  We join again,

  To walk the path before us,

  For eternity and a day.

  She repeated each line after Ian, tears misting her sight by the time she'd said the last few words. For a moment, it all felt familiar, as if they'd spoken the words to each other in another place and time. The sense of déjà-vu faded as he slipped a heavy gold band onto her finger and she glanced down in surprise. Deanna hadn't known he'd gotten her a ring but she didn't have time to examine it as he swept her into his arms for a resounding kiss that stole her breath away.

  The crowd cheered their Laird and Lady, many coming up to offer their congratulations. Ian kept one hand firmly planted on her ass while Deanna blushed as giggles erupted behind her.

  He leaned over, his lips brushing her neck before feathering up to her earlobe with tiny kisses. "You're mine. There's no escape for you now, lass."

  "Aye and don't I know it," she replied in a husky voice, attempting to imitate his accent.

  He threw back his head and laughed before swinging her up over his shoulder. He marched toward the keep to raucous calls and boisterous amusement. Ian's hand slid beneath the folds of her skirt and stroked the inside of her bare thigh. Deanna forgot that she meant to protest being carted away like the spoils of war and focused on being plundered instead.

  "I'll have my way with you now," he said as they entered the hall.

  "That works both ways, you know." She grabbed his back as his strides lengthened until he all but ran toward their bedchamber.

  He eased her onto the bed, his eyes sweep
ing every inch of her as if starved and facing a feast. She felt completely possessed by his manner and her heart swelled with happiness.

  "Undress for me, mo chridhe."

  Deanna stood before him and slowly removed her clothes as he watched each movement. Ian had a way of making her feel like a goddess, his face lighting up with a smile as she stroked a breast or ran her hand over her hip.

  She didn't get a striptease from him. He dropped his clothes in a flash and backed her onto the bed as her eyes drank in his magnificent physique. His shaft jumped as she reached for him and he grabbed her hands away.

  "No hands." He brought out a length of silk from under the bedcovers and pulled her arms taut over her head, wrapping it around her wrists.

  A moment later Deanna realized she'd been tied to the bedpost. "That's not fair."

  "I didna say I would be fair." He gave her a wicked grin and her heart pounded a lustful tune as he moved down to roll his tongue over her nipple.

  "I'll get you back for this," she moaned and arched her hips in an effort to rub against him.

  "Aye, I expect you will, but no before I've had my way with you."

  The thrill of being at his mercy slammed into her like a jolt of lightning. Deanna writhed beneath Ian as he bypassed her heat in a delicious tease, trailing his tongue along the sensitive skin on the inside of her thighs.

  "Ian," she pleaded, "I need you inside me."

  He glanced up at her and licked his lips. "Verra bad?"

  "Yes, verra bad. Come please your wife." She laughed softly as he groaned and fell on top of her like a mountain lion who hadn't had a meal in days.

  "I canna deny a request like that." His lips met hers as he plunged his erection deep inside, filling her with pleasure while his tongue mimicked the strokes of his hips.

  She reveled in the feel of his powerful muscles as he moved across her body. The tension in her own built until she throbbed against his manhood, squeezing him as she moaned in sweet surrender.