by Donna Grant
Isla’s ice-blue gaze swung to him. “As I tried to explain earlier, there is nothing that can kill Deirdre. She has had a thousand years to perfect her black magic, ensuring that she never dies.”
“Nothing can kill her?” Arran asked.
Isla’s head turned back to the group. “She took great pains in showing us all the ways someone might kill her, and every time it failed. Her body might be gone, but she’s still here.”
“How do you know?” Larena asked.
For the first time Hayden saw a spark of emotion. Isla’s gaze shifted to the floor, and he could have sworn she shivered.
“I’ve felt her trying to communicate with me in my mind a few times,” Isla said. “I was too weak from my wound for her to be able to control me.”
Quinn steepled his hands. “How is Deirdre going to continue without a body?”
“Her magic. I don’t think any of you understand just how powerful she is. She can generate another body for herself. It will take some time, but she will do it.”
“How much time?”
Isla shrugged. “Weeks. Months if we’re lucky.”
Lucan raked a hand through his hair. “Saints help us.”
“Tell us of your and Deirdre’s connection,” Fallon urged.
Isla would rather not, but they deserved the truth. They needed to know just how dangerous she was to them so they would let her go. She took in a deep breath and felt Hayden’s gaze on her once again.
He stood to the side of her, watching. Always watching. It should unnerve her, but there was something comforting and secure in his gaze. Something hot and provocative that awoke an emotion inside herself she had never felt before.
The others — and there were many others — were across from her with various expressions from dismay to anger to concern to pity. She couldn’t blame them. The Warriors had assumed they’d killed Deirdre.
If only that had been the case.
“It might be better if I start at the beginning,” she said. “There is much I think will help you all understand why your gods were unbound.”
Fallon nodded in agreement.
Isla licked her lips and pulled up the memories of that fateful day so many centuries ago. “I lived in a small, obscure village made up strictly of Druids. We saw very few outsiders, and when they did come, they came for our wisdom and healing.”
“You were a mie,” Cara said.
“Aye. My father was the village baker. We lived simply, as did everyone in the village. It was a beautiful place next to a loch and surrounded by a thick forest. I went into the forest daily to gather herbs, but one day everything changed.”
Lucan set aside his goblet after taking a long drink. “What happened?”
“I was with my sister and niece. Grania was just three summers and the joy of my life. I was holding her while Lavena picked some herbs when the wyrran and men appeared. The men weren’t Warriors, but they had strength like nothing I had ever seen.”
Isla’s stomach churned each time she relived that fateful day. “Grania was pulled from my arms. Lavena and I were then bound and taken to Cairn Toul. Deirdre had wanted Lavena because of her ability to see into the future, because Deirdre was searching for someone.”
“Who?” Quinn asked.
“The MacLeod Warrior.”
Isla waited for that to sink in as the brothers looked at each other. She glanced at Hayden to find his gaze narrowed on her as if he didn’t believe a word she said. In his place, she probably wouldn’t believe her either. But what good would it do for her to lie now? The truth was better for everyone.
Fallon was the first to turn back to her. “Explain yourself.”
“Deirdre had found scrolls hidden in her village. One scroll was the spell to unbind your gods, and in that scroll was one name. MacLeod.”
“Why our clan?” Lucan asked.
Isla shrugged. “That I cannot answer. But tell me this. Did men go missing from your clan about once every generation? Were they your strongest warriors?”
“Aye,” Fallon replied softly.
“That was Deirdre. She was trying to find the one who housed the god.”
Quinn snorted in disgust. “When that didn’t work she brought your sister to her.”
“She did. My sister was able to see parts of the future. I was an added bonus, and with both me and Grania in Deirdre’s control, Lavena didn’t have much of a choice. My sister tried to fight Deirdre, but … Deirdre has her ways.”
Isla broke off, remembering when Deirdre had Lavena raped in an effort to break her. She could still hear her sister’s screams, still remember the blood and the way the man had enjoyed Lavena fighting him. Just recalling that awful experience made Isla want to gag.
Something touched her hand. Isla looked down to find Marcail and a goblet full of wine. Marcail’s eyes were filled with sorrow, and a part of Isla broke in that moment. No one knew of this story besides Deirdre. And no one had ever felt compassion for Isla before.
“Go on,” Marcail said before she returned to Quinn’s side.
Isla took a drink of the wine, letting it slide down her throat and burn her stomach as it settled there. “Lavena finally broke. Neither of us realized just what Deirdre wanted from her until it was too late. We thought Lavena would try to call up the future, but Deirdre put her in the blue flames, magical flames that would keep Lavena alive but unable to function on her own, where she remained until a few days ago.”
“How long was she in there?” Lucan asked.
Isla looked into the goblet and the red liquid. “Five hundred years.”
Sound filled the hall as everyone began talking at once. There was only one that was silent. Her watcher, Hayden.
Fallon banged his empty goblet on the table. “Quiet. I want to hear the rest of this.” He turned to Isla. “Go on.”
“Lavena’s gift of seeing the future couldn’t be called up at will. It would come to her sporadically. In the blue flames Deirdre was able to add her black magic with Lavena’s to help channel specific things, namely finding the MacLeod who had the god.
“It took Lavena about a year before she saw what Deirdre wanted. In her vision Lavena said it wasn’t one MacLeod, but three. Three brothers, to be exact, who shared the god. The three would be the strongest of their clan. After that, Deirdre had only to watch and wait.”
Quinn rubbed his jaw and sighed. “That’s when she attacked our clan.”
“And then captured you. She didn’t expect your escape, though. You were lucky.”
“How did she find the rest of us?” Hayden asked.
Isla fidgeted with the goblet. “Through my sister, of course. Deirdre had her seeking anything to do with the gods as she built her army. At the time Druids were plentiful. Her wyrran hunted them mercilessly, and as they grew scarcer, Deirdre used the spring equinox to find more.
“It was only recently that Deirdre had Lavena also searching for more Druids. It’s how she found Marcail.”
Lucan rose and began to pace, his agitation clear. Cara eventually took his hand and pulled him back down beside her. Despite everything the MacLeod brothers had been through, each of them had a woman who obviously loved him.
“What happened to you in the mountain?” Lucan asked.
Isla rubbed her fingers on the rim of the goblet. This part of the telling was going to be the most difficult. “Deirdre was going to kill me and claim my magic, but for some reason she changed her mind. She wanted to utilize me as she had Lavena so she set about using the same tactics to break me. They didn’t work.”
Duncan braced his hands on the table and slowly rose. Isla watched as his lips lifted in a sneer. He hated her, and he had every right to despise her.
“You evidently broke, though. What did she offer you? Power?” Duncan demanded.
It was Duncan’s twin, Ian, who jerked Duncan back down on the bench. The only way to tell the twins apart was that Duncan’s dark hair hung down his back and Ian’s was cropped close
to his head.
To Isla’s surprise, Hayden had moved away from his position when Duncan had risen. It was only after Duncan had resumed his seat that Hayden once again leaned against the wall as if he were leisurely listening to a story.
Hayden’s response baffled Isla. The blond Warrior clearly didn’t like her, but why would he then act like he was going to defend her?
“Isla?” Quinn urged.
She sighed and nodded. “Deirdre threatened to kill Grania if I didn’t do as she asked.”
Fallon raised a brow. “And what did she ask of you?”
“To become a drough.”
“Which you did,” Lucan said. “When did the mind connection take place?”
“A few months later. Deirdre expected that once I became drough that she could control me, that the evil would make me more susceptible to her cause.”
Fallon shook his head in confusion. “I doona understand. Didn’t the evil do exactly that?”
“It tried, but since I performed the drough ceremony under duress, I wasn’t giving my soul completely to the evil. In withholding a part of myself, I was able to gain control of the malice within me.”
Isla saw the doubt on the faces before her, and though they might not believe, she had battled the evil every day for centuries. She knew the truth.
“I managed to fool Deirdre for a time, but then I began to question her. She began to doubt me.”
Fallon tapped a finger on the arm of his chair. “How have you been alive for five hundred years?”
Isla swallowed, her throat dry and raw. She knew what she was about to tell the group would surprise them. “Deirdre managed to link her mind with mine, thereby controlling me.”
“What happens when she does that?” Lucan asked.
“There is pain as if my head is splitting open. Then, I hear Deirdre’s voice in my mind commanding me to carry out some order. I’m powerless to fight against it no matter how many times I try.”
Quinn frowned. “What exactly does she want you to do?”
“To kill.”
SIX
Isla knew her statement shocked them. “As soon as the command is given, I lose control of my body. I have no memory of what takes place while Deirdre has control. She cannot hold me for long, though, as it requires a tremendous amount of magic.”
Once again the hall erupted in sound as they talked amongst themselves about her revelation. She imagined it was worrisome, and it was the reason she couldn’t stay.
Fallon raised his hand and quiet once more reigned. “Have you ever gotten control during one of these … outings?”
“Once,” Isla said, barely hiding the shudder that wracked her. “Only once.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Isla didn’t like to think of the time Deirdre’s control had slipped. It had been horrifying. To see for herself just how vicious and gruesome she was at killing had left Isla physically ill. She had retched long after there was anything left in her stomach.
Isla licked her lips. “I cannot stop Deirdre from taking control of me. It’s the reason I need to leave immediately. For every moment I am here I put all of you in danger.”
“But you could help us.”
Isla looked at the female. She recognized the Druid with the fiery hair as the one who had put the sleeping chant on her. The mie’s magic was strong, very strong. “Who are you?”
“Sonya.”
“You would risk everyone’s lives on the chance that I could help you, Sonya?” Isla asked.
“The information you could give us about Deirdre will help us. Knowledge is power.”
Marcail chose that moment to speak up. “And what of the shielding you told me about?”
Isla regretted telling Marcail of her ability. Staying at the castle was the last thing Isla needed to do. She stood, the cool stones penetrating her stockings. “You don’t understand. None of you understand.”
“We do,” Broc said as he also rose and walked towards her. “You know things about Deirdre’s magic that we don’t. Think what we could do to her with our combined knowledge.”
Isla looked at Marcail, the Druid’s hand once more on her stomach. Another child’s life was in the balance. But was it worth the risk for Isla to stay?
The answer was a resounding nay.
“I’m sorry, but I cannot. It will take another day for my body to heal the wound, and then I must go.”
“Go where?” Fallon asked.
Isla shrugged. “Does it matter? I will go far away from here, away from anyone and everyone so I can no longer be used to harm people. Had Hayden taken my head as I asked, none of you would be in jeopardy.”
Duncan slammed his hand on the table. “You canna really expect us to believe you want to die.”
She looked into the Warrior’s brown eyes that were full of anger and vengeance. “There is nothing I want more. I’m tired of being used, tired of having no control over my destiny, my life. I want it to end.”
“And the only way to do that is to take your head?” Quinn asked.
Isla nodded and swallowed the lump that had grown in her throat. “Just as a Warrior can only die by taking his head, my life will not come to an end unless Deirdre dies or my head is severed from my body.”
“Holy hell,” Quinn mumbled and blew out a harsh breath.
Isla then thought about the last thing Deirdre had been researching. Maybe if she told the MacLeods it would be enough for them to turn their attention away from her. Isla could use her powers against them. They were Warriors and therefore strong with their gods’ powers, but she was a drough with five hundred years of perfecting her magic. She would be a force to be reckoned with, but she’d rather not hurt anyone at MacLeod Castle. They were good people trying to do the right thing.
She walked to the table and sat down the wine she had barely touched. “Deirdre prided herself on her knowledge of Druids and magic. She knew there were those among the Druids who plotted their revenge and gave magic to items that could hamper her powers.”
Isla ignored the stares and walked around the great hall. Hayden had shifted from his place against the wall and moved toward her. Did he think she meant to flee? That would come in time, but not yet.
“What are you speaking of, woman?” Hayden demanded. His voice was hard and laced with impatience and a bit of doubt. But the way he watched her, with intent and hunger, made her heart race.
“Objects actually. They are hidden all over Scotland. Some that could hinder Deirdre’s magic, others she could turn so that they gave her even more power.”
Lucan groaned. “Just what we need. Deirdre more powerful than she already is.”
Isla stopped when she stood in front of Hayden. She had to tilt her head back just to look into his face, and what a handsome face it was. She found herself reaching up to trace his wide lips, but caught herself in time, tucking her hair behind her ear to hide what she had been about.
If she wasn’t who she was and things were different, she might actually think of flirting with him.
As soon as the thought filled her mind she disregarded it. Thinking such thoughts wasn’t for her. Her path had already been set, and there would be no altering it.
“How do you know of these … objects?” Hayden asked.
She gazed into his eyes, eyes so black she couldn’t see his pupils. Hayden wasn’t a man who bent for anyone or anything. He was a man shaped by his life just as she was, so Isla understood his gruffness.
“Long ago when I was but a child there were stories of some powerful Druid tribes who had relics passed down to each high priestess. Every generation, the Druids of the village would pour their magic into these relics.”
Hayden’s brow furrowed. “Why would they do such a thing?”
“After what happened with the release of the gods and being unable to remove the gods from the men, the Druids sought to find another way to protect Britain. They believed if an object had enough magic that it could keep us safe.”
“And did it?”
Isla briefly closed her eyes. “It was never put to the test. With Deirdre pursuing them and the Christians wanting them dead, the Druids had to bury these objects and hide. The locations were supposedly passed down through the ages.”
“Aye,” Sonya voice interrupted. “I’ve heard such tales from the Druids that raised me. They themselves did not have such a relic, but they retold the stories nonetheless.”
Fallon looked from Sonya to Isla. “Do either of you know where one of these relics is buried?”
“Not exactly,” Isla said. “I discovered what Deirdre was looking for when she began to ask me questions about those tales. So, I asked a few questions of my own.”
She paused then and looked back at Hayden. “I’m not sure how much I believe of what she told me next.”
“Why?” Hayden asked.
“Because she lies.”
“True enough,” Quinn said. “But tell us what she told you.”
Isla made her feet move away from Hayden. Being so near him unsettled her, made her think of only him, of how it felt to have his arms around her. There was something about the giant that set her off balance, and around these Warriors Isla needed to keep her focus.
She walked back to the chair she had sat in and looked at the group of Warriors and Druids who watched her. “Deirdre told me that my sister had given her a clue as to where to find the one object that could kill her.”
“What?” Fallon bellowed. “And you’re just now telling us?”
“I was going to find it myself,” Isla hurried to say. “However, I realize now I would never get to it before Deirdre finds me. Once I woke up here, I knew if anyone could find the object, it was one of you.”
A Warrior with black hair cut short rose to his feet. She looked into his gray eyes for the second time that day, and it was then she remembered who he was. Ramsey MacDonald.
“Ramsey,” she whispered.
So many Warriors had been in and out of the mountain that Isla couldn’t remember them all, but a few stood out. Ramsey was just such a Warrior. He and Broc had been inseparable while they’d been prisoners. Then one day Ramsey had escaped and Broc had given his allegiance to Deirdre. Isla now wondered if that allegiance had ever been genuine.