by Katy Baker
“That’s it,” Callum said. He looked at his men, meeting each man’s gaze in turn. “Ye all know what ye have to do.”
“Lass,” Callum said to Sophie. “This is our last chance. Will ye not stay behind?”
She twisted in the saddle to look at him. In the gloom she couldn’t make out his expression but his eyes were shadowed. She was no warrior and it made sense for her to stay behind but she could not bear the thought of being parted from him, even if that meant riding into danger.
And besides, something tugged at her, told her that this was where she was meant to be. Irene MacAskill had brought her here for a reason and since the Unseelie Fae had spoken to her in Rochford’s tent, she’d found the feeling growing, getting stronger the closer they drew to the mine.
Blood calls to blood. Ye canna deny what ye are.
“You know I can’t,” she replied with a shake of her head. “We all have a part to play in this. Would you ask me to shirk mine?”
He watched her for a long moment. Then he breathed out slowly. “Nay, I wouldnae, nay matter how much it tears my heart to think of ye riding into danger.” He leaned forward and gave her a lingering kiss. “Very well. Let’s go.”
Sophie clutched the saddle horn as Callum nudged the horse into motion towards the edge of the escarpment. Her stomach rose into her mouth as she thought they were going to plunge off the edge, only for a switch-back path to be revealed. The path was wide and smooth and climbed steadily down towards the lower ground. With the escarpment at their backs they moved in darkness, hidden from the eyes of the men working the compound below.
Soon they were all gathered at the bottom of the escarpment and Sophie made out the encampment more clearly. It was a hive of activity and she heard the dull clinking of metal on metal.
The Order formed a line with Callum in the middle. He drew his sword and the others followed suit. Without a word, he kicked his horse into an urgent gallop. Together, the Order of the Osprey thundered across the open ground, the drumming of the horse’s hooves loud enough to alert the sentries. Cries sprang up and a horn blared a warning. In only moments, horsemen were riding out to meet them. They had weapons drawn and looked every bit as grim and determined as the Order.
The two sides collided with an audible impact, a horse’s rump slamming into Callum’s mount with enough force to almost rip Sophie from the saddle. She clung on desperately as Callum dispatched the rider with a stab of his sword. Around them, fierce fighting erupted as the Order of the Osprey met the Disinherited, blades whirling and clashing.
Sophie had never been so terrified in her life. Any moment she expected to feel the slice of cold steel or the pain of a crunching blow. But she didn’t. True to his word, Callum kept her safe, wheeling the horse with expert precision to keep her from the path of enemies, dispatching anyone who came within reach and ensuring nobody got near enough to pose a threat.
Sophie craned her head, trying to spot what they needed through the melee of fighting.
“There!” she cried, pointing.
The entrance to the mine lay at the base of a mound. From this distance it looked like a doorway cut into the escarpment and was well lit by torches burning to either side.
Callum urged his mount in that direction. The Disinherited, seeing Callum’s intent, spilled across the ground to block the path. Callum swung his sword about him, cutting a swathe through their enemies. The men of the Order followed suit, their expressions set with determination as they fought their way through to the mine entrance.
She and Callum broke through the line into a space of relative calm. Around them, the fighting continued unabated but the Order kept the Disinherited at bay, allowing Callum and Sophie to approach the yawning chasm of the mine’s entrance. He pulled up the horse and they sat staring at it.
“I have no idea what we might find in there,” Callum said. “Ye have no obligation to come with me.”
Sophie swallowed. “Yes I do. It’s where I have to be, I can feel it as surely as you can feel the power of the Fae.” She smiled softly. “And besides, there’s no way I’m letting you out of my sight.”
He smiled in turn, his fierce expression softening as he studied her. “Ah, my Sophie,” he breathed. “I wish we’d had more time.”
“We will have more time!” she replied, disliking the resigned expression on his face. “We will have all the time in the world when this is finished!”
He nodded, but the resigned expression did not change.
“Don’t look at me like that, Callum!” Sophie said. “You are coming out of this, do you understand?”
“I made a vow, love,” he said, his voice so soft she could barely make out the words. “I vowed that I would guard the secrets of the Fae and keep Alba safe from her enemies. I vowed that I would give my life if needed. I cannot escape that vow.”
Sophie stared at him. Something cold and hard formed in her stomach, feeling as heavy as a bowling ball. The expression on his face suggested he thought he would not be coming back.
“Listen to me,” she snarled, surprised by the vehemence in her voice. “You are going to live through this, Callum Sutherland! You are going to walk out the other side with me. Do you hear? I won’t allow it any other way! I won’t lose you, Callum!”
His eyes were bright, shining with something like pride as he watched her. “Ah, my brave lass,” he breathed. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers.
She breathed in, breathing in the scent of him. “What did I do to deserve ye entering my life?” He took her hands in his and met her gaze. “Come, let’s get this done.”
They dismounted and together, hand in hand, walked to the mine entrance. It was shored up with timber and Sophie saw evidence of much recent work around it. Piles of freshly chopped vegetation lay to either side, attesting to Rochford having to fight his way through the undergrowth to get to it.
Callum drew his sword and stepped in front of Sophie as he ducked under the lintel. He muttered words under his breath, entreating the protection of the Fae.
Drawing her dagger, Sophie followed. She was surprised to find that it was warmer inside the tunnel than outside and the tunnel itself was wide and high enough that she could walk without stooping. The walls and ceiling were shored up with thick beams and it was clear that whoever had built it had known what they were doing. Despite the passing of years in which the mine had lain abandoned, it showed little sign of decay.
After only a few meters, they began to lose the light so Callum lit the torch he took from a sconce on the wall and held it up to illuminate their way. She expected to meet some of Rochford’s workers down here but the place was eerily silent, the only sound the tap of their feet and the slow drip of water.
The tunnel sloped gently downwards and the temperature began to drop as they angled deeper underground. In the walls Sophie spotted the seams that had been dug out and there were side chambers and small tunnels branching off the main ones that had obviously been mined long ago. But the main tunnel showed no signs of stopping and Sophie stuck close behind Callum as they walked into the darkness.
Callum stopped abruptly, holding the torch above his head to examine the ceiling.
“What is it?”
“Look at this. The supports end here.”
The thick timbers that held up the walls and ceiling vanished but the tunnel did not, carrying on as wide and high as before, without any tool marks to show that the stone had been worked.
“It’s natural,” Sophie said. “The mine is connected to a natural tunnel beneath the earth.”
Callum shook his head. “Not natural. Made by something. Just not people.”
Sophie swallowed thickly. She didn’t need to be told what he was referring to.
Fae.
Grimly, she followed Callum into the dark.
THE AIR IN THE TUNNEL was heavy, difficult to breathe although Callum could detect no poison odors. What he did detect however, was something far more insidious, and
far more dangerous.
A presence brushed along his skin, raising the hairs on his arms and making the back of his neck prickle. It was the same presence he’d sensed by the standing stone in the woods.
The Unseelie were close.
He glanced behind to make sure Sophie was following closely. She had an intense look of concentration on her face and didn’t seem frightened. Instead, she seemed...preoccupied. Her head was cocked to one side as though she was listening but Callum heard nothing beyond the thump of their footsteps on the rock of the tunnel floor.
He held the torch as high as possible, trying to illuminate their way but the darkness resisted all attempts to pierce it and he was unable to see more than a few feet ahead. It was with some abruptness then, that he suddenly found the walls and ceiling of the tunnel disappearing and they stepped out into a vast cavern.
Light filtered down from somewhere above, illuminating it enough to show that the huge underground cave was almost entirely filled with a still, clear lake. The water was so pristine that Callum could see the rocks covering the lake bed.
From the spot where he and Sophie stood, a stone walkway led across the surface of the lake to an island in the middle. A structure sat on the island, too far away and too hidden in the gloom for him to be able to make out more than the fact that it was rectangular. He raised the torch and looked around, alert for danger.
The power of the Unseelie was stronger here, filling the air like pale smoke, invisible but brushing against every pore of Callum’s body.
He walked forward hesitantly, coming to a halt at the lake’s edge. He squinted, peering into the gloom at the island in the center but could not make anything out. What was this place? What had the miners discovered during their digging? Was that why it had been abandoned?
He placed his foot carefully on the walkway, expecting something to happen. It didn’t. The cavern lay as still and quiet as a tomb. He glanced at Sophie but she did not meet his gaze. She was staring intently at the island, an unreadable look on her face.
“We have to cross,” she murmured. She didn’t speak loudly but even so, echoes burst all around them.
Have to cross. Have to cross. Have to cross.
He nodded, indicating for her to stay close. Together they inched along the walkway, Callum keeping a tight grip on his sword. As they crossed the lake, Callum took a closer look at the water. He realized now that it wasn’t as clear as he’d first thought. Clouds of something gray bloomed in the lake’s depths and he saw rivulets of gray liquid running from the island into the lake.
Finally, they reached the end of the walkway and stepped up onto the island. Now that he was closer, Callum saw that the island was perfectly circular, clearly not natural, but something about it suggested that it had not been made by people either.
The building he’d seen from the shore resolved itself into a tiny, hut-like structure constructed from black stone. A single doorway led inside, the lintel canted at a strange angle and carved with a series of rune-like symbols. The heavy stone door stood closed with no evidence of a key or opening mechanism.
He moved closer but was careful to keep several meters between himself and the structure. Wrongness emanated from it like poisonous gas. Kneeling, he realized that the gray liquid pouring into the lake was running from beneath this door.
He hissed. He recognized Unseelie magic when he saw it.
“Is this it?” he said, turning to Sophie. “Is this how they are leaching poison into the ground?”
She’d wrapped her arms around herself and looked pale, her lips bloodless. “I think so. That gray stuff looks like run-off from the lead mine but why is it running from the door?”
“Because the Unseelie have infused it with their dark power. That must be how it’s spreading so widely and so quickly.”
Sophie’s eyes snapped to the door. “So what does this lead to?”
“You already know the answer to that question,” said a voice. “When are you going to stop pretending?”
A man stepped around the stone structure, leaning on the wall nonchalantly. Callum bristled, a snarl twisting his lips.
“Rochford.”
Robert Rochford gave him an insolent smile, the movement pulling his scar tight. “Of course. Were you expecting somebody else?”
Callum raised his sword, pointing it at the man. “Give it up. Ye are beaten. The Order has taken this site. Ye are finished.”
Rochford stared at him for a moment and then burst into raucous laughter. It echoed around the chamber, making it seem as though a large audience filled the space. When Rochford’s mirth finally subsided, he raised an eyebrow at Callum.
“Priceless! Just priceless! You really believe that, don’t you? You really believe you’ve won? I can’t believe you’re that stupid.”
Callum found himself taking a step forward before he managed to restrain himself. Rochford was baiting him, trying to make him angry in the hope he would make a mistake. He could not allow himself to fall into that trap.
“So this is it?” he said instead, indicating the gray substance leaking into the water from the structure. “This is how ye have been waging yer war? Poisoning innocent people instead of facing me openly in battle? I always knew the Disinherited were cowards, but I never quite understood how much.”
A brief flash of fury lit Rochford’s features, quickly subdued. “Nobody is innocent,” he said. “Everyone chooses a side, whether they realize it or not.” He pointed at the substance leaking into the water. “I commend you on figuring out what we’ve been doing. This lead mine was shut up years ago but that idiot, MacKay, never realized what else lay down here. I did. The means to subdue all the lands of the Order—a means to bring them back to their rightful owners. You can see how this works: lead—fueled by the power of the Fae—will continue to seep into the ground, the water, the crops, until I stop it. And I will only do that once you have given me what I want.”
Callum glared at the man. Oh, how he longed to plunge his fist into his grinning face. “And what is that?”
Rochford raised an eyebrow. “So now we get to it. You want to save your people? It’s simple really. You and all of your Order will forswear your lands and titles. You will return them to their rightful owners—the Disinherited.”
“Ye know I will never agree to that.”
“Then you will be responsible for bringing anarchy to the Highlands. How long do you think your people will follow you when you fail to save their loved ones? When they continue to fall sick? When they continue to starve? How long before you have rioting in the streets? And then, into this chaos will step the Disinherited. We will give the people what they want. We will stop the blight, save their loved ones. In return, they will love us and the name of Sutherland will be trodden into the dirt.”
“Ye’ve got it all figured out, havenae ye?” Callum grated.
Rochford’s words evoked unwelcome images: his people fighting over the last scraps of bread, mobs marching on the castle demanding answers, neighbor turning on neighbor. Anger, despair, anarchy.
His stomach twisted as he realized Rochford was right. If he could not save his people then what kind of a leader was he?
“Ah, I can see you realize the truth of my words,” Rochford said. “But it need not be like that. You can stop it. All you need to do is agree to our terms. Return the lands and titles that were stolen from the Disinherited and we will stop the contagion. Nobody else need die.”
“And ye think the people would just accept ye? That they would welcome ye as their new masters? If ye think so then ye underestimate the loyalty of Highlanders. They will discover the truth of what ye’ve done and ye will never rest easy on yer laird’s chair. Ye will spend yer life quelling unrest and fighting rebellions. Is that what ye want?”
Rochford pushed away from the wall and walked towards Callum, careful to stop a good distance away. His sword was strapped to his waist although he didn’t draw it. The man’s sleeves were rolled up and
for the first time Callum noticed the myriad of tiny white scars that crossed his arms, testament to the blood sacrifice that his masters demanded of him.
“No, that isn’t what I want. It’s no fun trying to rule a people that hate you. Far easier if they love you.”
“The people of the Highlands will never love ye.”
Rochford raised an eyebrow. “Oh, they will, Sutherland. They will. You underestimate the power of the Unseelie. When the Unseelie are set free, their power will be mine. With it, I will conquer the hearts and minds of your people.”
Callum glanced uneasily at the stone door. “What do ye mean, ‘when they are set free’? Ye dinna have the power to release them.”
Rochford barked a laugh but there was no humor in it at all. “Oh, you really are priceless! You still haven’t worked it out yet, have you? Everything that has happened—you and Sophie escaping my camp, finding my map which led you here—it has happened because I wanted it to.”
Callum shifted uneasily. “What are ye talking about?”
“Do you want to tell him or shall I?” Rochford said, lifting his chin to address Sophie.
Callum turned to face her but she didn’t look at him. In fact, she barely seemed aware of his presence. She was staring at the stone doorway, her lips moving as she spoke under her breath.
“You’re right in saying that I cannot free the Unseelie. Unfortunately, my bloodline has been diluted over the years and so I do not have the power. Only someone with a pure bloodline, one whose ancestors have served the Unseelie in an unbroken line down through the centuries could do so. There is only one such.” He grinned, pointing at Sophie.
“And you’ve brought her right here.”
Chapter 17
Sophie cocked her head, listening. Voices spoke from beyond the doorway. They were sweet, seductive voices, whispering in soothing tones. She couldn’t quite hear words, although she desperately wanted to. She took a step towards the door. She just had to get closer...