by Donna Grant
“Carac said the same,” Rossamond stated.
“He is not lying, and neither am I. Sybbyl has called in more witches. I believe the Coven elders are coming,” Ravyn added.
The ghost shrugged. “No one with magic can get through the doorway.”
“And if they tear down the castle?” Carac asked. “What if they come from above instead of through the doorway?”
The specter frowned before shaking her head. “My brothers and I never thought this place would be uncovered, but that was foolish of us to believe. It was only a matter of time before a member of the Coven returned to our family.”
“They have always known there was a chance the staff was here,” Ravyn told her.
“And now, they have come. In order to save others, they forced a descendant of my family to give up the location of the doorway, but it will be for naught. They will kill him and everyone else.”
Carac shrugged and gave a quick shake of his head. “Randall no doubt knew that was a possibility, but he is a good man. He wanted his people to live.”
“Instead, he is condemning the world to death,” the ghost stated angrily.
Ravyn gawked at her. “Your anger being directed at Randall is wrong.”
“Is it?” Rossamond demanded. “I gave up my life to protect the staff.”
“Nay,” Carac said. “Your life was already forfeit because of the witch. You chose to die here to save your family and others.”
The ghost’s eyes narrowed on him. “You think I cared nothing for the staff?”
“I think it was a bonus,” he said, hoping his instincts were right. “The staff was in your family for generations. It was a problem that would not go away. It brought unwanted attention to your ancestors.”
She cocked her head to the side. “That is a bold statement.”
“But am I right?” he pushed.
Her face filled with sorrow. “It is true that I cursed the one who brought the First Witch’s bone to my family. I railed at my ancestor for digging it up and making it into a staff. I loathed the Coven for continually attempting to find it. But I hated the staff the most. It ruined my life.”
“You can think of it another way,” Ravyn said. “You can choose to believe that the one who brought the bone to your family knew that you were honorable and trustworthy. You can believe that the Coven continued to be thwarted in their efforts because of the strength and ingenuity of your family. You can also choose to consider that the staff knew you would be the strongest in your family. It knew you would safeguard it at all costs—which you did. I believe all of that because when you asked it to allow you to remain and stop intruders, it granted your wish.”
“You are attempting to sway me, to convince me to allow both of you to live.”
Carac was growing weary of this conversation. “We are not part of the Coven.”
“So you say,” Rossamond interrupted. “I have no way of verifying your claims. You expect me to take your word for it.”
“We do,” Carac replied. “Just as we have taken yours. A witch killed Ravyn’s family. Ravyn became a Hunter to fight them. And I joined her because it is the right thing to do.”
“It’s Sybbyl,” Ravyn said in a low voice.
Carac’s head whipped around to her. “What?”
“Sybbyl,” Ravyn said as she met his gaze. “She is the one who murdered my family.”
And she had learned that on her own. He should have been beside her. Carac released her hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulders to draw her close. “You thought it might be her.”
“I could not kill her. She is too strong.”
He tilted her chin up with his finger and grinned. “Then we do it together.”
“If we get out of here,” Ravyn said, her gaze darting to the ghost. “If not, then it is in Margery’s and the other Hunters’ hands.”
Carac knew the chances of getting away from the ghost were slim, but he could make sure their deaths were not in vain. “If we cannot kill Sybbyl or the elders, at least we can make sure they never get the staff.”
A slow smile spread over Ravyn’s face. “Without the Blood Skull or the staff, their plans to kill off anyone without magic will be foiled.”
“What do you plan, then?” the ghost asked.
Carac looked at Rossamond and cocked an eyebrow. “You would join us?”
“I wish to see the Coven defeated. Now, tell me your plan,” she urged.
Chapter 27
“Do it,” Ravyn told Carac.
She would readily admit that speaking to a ghost was more than frightening, and knowing that Rossamond was also part of the reason the three knights died only made things harder to bear.
Then there were the blades that had come out of nowhere as Ravyn walked down the tunnel. It had been so dark that she’d had to sling her crossbow over her shoulder and make her way with her hands out in front of her, feeling her way along.
It had only been the soft scraping and a whisper of wind that alerted her. The sound had been near her head, so she rolled forward. Just as she was getting to her feet, she heard a second grating sound. She did two more rolls just to be sure. No sooner had she found her feet than she was pulled against a hard body.
The instant Carac’s arms went around her, she let out a sigh of relief. Only then did she realize how close to death she had come, because with the ghost revealing herself, Ravyn was able to see the huge double-headed axes protruding from the walls.
She shivered as a chill raced down her spine as if the fingers of the dead had touched her. Ravyn didn’t like the tunnel. It smelled of death—both old and new. The only thing that she did like about it was that witches couldn’t get in.
Then again, they had mentioned that if the Coven really wanted to get to the staff, they could come in another way. And that sounded exactly like something the witches would do.
She looked at Carac’s profile bathed in the light of the spirit as he turned toward Rossamond. He was strong and steady. And seemingly unaffected by the fact that he was speaking to a ghost that wanted him dead. All the while, he spoke to Rossamond calmly and rationally. Not once had he reached for his sword.
That made Ravyn frown. Why did she even contemplate attacking the specter? As a ghost, their weapons wouldn’t harm her. And Ravyn wasn’t sure if anything could.
Which left her and Carac utterly at Rossamond’s mercy. A fact that Carac appeared not to mind.
His chest expanded as he drew in a breath. “We have little to work with. We can only consider the things we have here.”
“Like?” the spirit asked.
“I suppose there is only one way in and out?”
The woman nodded. “Of course.”
Ravyn glanced upward. “Unless they come in another way.”
“True,” Carac replied as he glanced at her. “For now, let us assume that they are focused on the arch. They will stand together, waiting for one of us to come out.”
“Or send more in,” Ravyn said. She hoped Margery would get the upper hand on Sybbyl, but she was worried that the witch was too strong for her friend.
Ravyn shouldn’t have left Margery. She should’ve stayed instead of rushing off after the staff and Carac. Margery wouldn’t have abandoned her. What kind of friend did that make Ravyn? A lousy one.
Ravyn blinked and focused her gaze to find both Carac and Rossamond staring at her. “What?”
“I asked your opinion,” Carac said.
She licked her lips and shifted feet. “I am worried about Margery.”
“I thought as much, which is why I said we should return to the arch.”
Ravyn gaped at him. “Go back to Sybbyl and most likely the elders without the staff? What good would that do?”
“She is here to stop anyone who comes in,” Carac said, motioning to Rossamond.
Ravyn briefly met the woman’s gaze and shook her head. “I got through, and so did you. Others will, as well.”
“I only made it
through because she allowed it,” Carac confessed.
That made Ravyn frown. Her head swung to the spirit, who nodded in confirmation. Perhaps Ravyn hadn’t made it through as she thought. “Did you help me?” she asked the ghost.
“I did not,” the woman replied.
Ravyn considered Carac’s plan. “Let us imagine that Margery wins against Sybbyl. There are still the other witches coming. We both heard Sybbyl send John to the great hall to await their arrival. If Sybbyl believes she is about to get the artifact, then she called for the elders.”
“The elders are still witches,” Carac said.
Rossamond snorted. “You obviously know very little about witches, or you would never make such a statement.”
“He only recently learned of them,” Ravyn said in Carac’s defense.
Carac leaned back against the wall of the tunnel. “I suppose the elders have significantly more power than other witches.”
“Aye,” Ravyn and the ghost said in unison.
Unruffled at the news, Carac shrugged. “And with only your and Margery’s weapons able to kill a witch, that puts us at a distinct disadvantage.”
“I knew becoming a Hunter would likely mean that I died at the hands of a witch, but I did not want it to be today. Especially not at Sybbyl’s hands.” Ravyn squeezed her eyes closed for a heartbeat. “But if it means that the Coven will be defeated and not able to get to the staff, then I will do whatever it takes.”
Carac took her hand again, his lips tilting in a lopsided smile. “I do not wish to die today either. I just found you, and I had plans for us.”
That caused Ravyn to smile. “This is bigger than us, though.”
“Aye,” he said, his grin slipping. “Much bigger.”
The ghost sighed loudly. “I have yet to hear a plan.”
Ravyn adjusted her crossbow on her shoulder. “The tunnel is dark. I will stand as close to the entrance of the arch as I can and fire off arrows until I kill them all.”
“I like this plan,” Carac said.
Ravyn’s chest puffed out in pride. Up until the ghost spoke.
“It will not work,” the woman stated flatly.
“Why not?” Ravyn asked. “They cannot use magic.”
A thin, black brow arched as the ghost stared at her. “No one with magic can enter, but it will not stop a witch from directing her magic through the arch. They would find you quickly enough.”
“I could still kill a couple of them.”
“That will not be enough,” Carac said. “Our options were slim to begin with.”
Ravyn rubbed her thumb over the carved runes on her weapon, thinking about her family. “Whatever we do, the Coven will be waiting.”
“But they are expecting the staff,” Carac said with a smile.
Now Ravyn was confused. “That is something to smile about?”
“Do you know what it looks like?” he asked.
Ravyn shook her head. “As far as I know, no one does.”
“I was hoping you would say that.” Carac was still smiling when he turned to Rossamond. “Is there anything in here we could use as a staff?”
While the idea did have merit, Ravyn saw flaws, as well. “As soon as one of the witches gets ahold of the staff, they will know it is not the right one.”
“Who said they would get ahold of it,” Carac replied as he looked at her.
Ravyn had to smile. “That is a good idea, and the trick might work. But not for long.”
“We do not need long. Just enough time to see if Margery and Simon survived, as well as determine how many witches are there.”
“And elders,” Ravyn added.
The spirit interjected. “There is something that might work. Follow me.”
Ravyn and Carac exchanged a look as they trailed after the ghost. Ravyn’s gaze lowered to see that the woman was floating. There were no feet touching the ground. Which was just as odd as being able to see through Rossamond’s body.
With each step, Ravyn took in what little she could see revealed by the light from the woman. The tunnel narrowed suddenly, allowing only one person through at a time.
While she had to squeeze her shoulders in, Carac had to turn sideways and shuffle through. The spirit, however, didn’t have such issues. She passed right through the rock.
Of all the magic Ravyn had seen in her life, she’d never thought to encounter a ghost. In fact, she’d always assumed that others’ talk of such meetings were nothing but lies and proof that people were crazy. Now, she needed to rethink things.
Finally, Ravyn came out of the constricted tunnel and entered into a section that was as wide as the original passageway. She turned to get her bearings and saw the remains of a body curled up on the ground.
The ghost stood gazing down at the bones. Ravyn knelt next to the skeleton, the remnants of a gown hanging in tatters. Ravyn put her hand over the bones and sat silently for a moment.
Then, she looked up at Rossamond. “Shall we give you a proper burial?”
“This is my burial chamber,” the ghost said and looked around. “The pain that body felt is long gone. As is my family.”
“Not true,” Carac said. He pointed back down the tunnel. “You have family currently being held by the Coven. Randall has been beaten and starved. He has had to watch his people being threatened and murdered. You remain here to guard the staff, but you are also guarding your family.”
Ravyn slowly got to her feet and shot him a small smile of approval. If they were to survive this, it would be because they worked together. She couldn’t do it alone, and neither could Carac.
They made a good team. Both in bed and out.
“What would you have me do?” Rossamond asked.
Carac drew in a deep breath. “Can you leave this place?”
The woman’s head cocked to the side. “You saw me in the tunnel.”
His lips compressed in exasperation. “I meant, can you go anywhere you want in the castle?”
“I can. I rarely do it, though. I do not like to see what has become of my home.”
Ravyn saw an opportunity and took it. “But you do check in on your descendants every now and again, aye?”
“I have been known to make my way to the castle when I hear the cries of a baby,” the ghost admitted.
Ravyn glanced at Carac while hiding her smile. “Which means you have seen new generations being born.”
The ghost bowed her head in agreement. “I have also stood by the bedsides of some who died.”
“You have witnessed what no one else is capable of,” Carac said. “You have seen your line continue. You watched them from afar and saw that they held true to the honor of your family name by keeping the staff a secret.”
Rossamond faced Carac and folded her hands before her. “You are attempting to convince me to help you.”
“To help your family,” Ravyn corrected her.
The spirit’s cold blue eyes slid to her. “This body may no longer feel pain, but the emotions within me never halted. I was to be married. I wanted at least six children.”
Now, Ravyn understood why Rossamond felt compelled to answer the cries of infants.
“I wept when my brothers died one by one, but I rejoiced in their offspring,” the ghost continued. “I was there when Randall was born, and when his wife and child died of a fever. And I will be by his side when he breathes his last.” The woman paused and looked between them. “I envy the two of you and the love that blossoms. I regret that I was never able to experience it or hold my children in my arms.”
Carac took a step toward the ghost. “Then take it out on the ones responsible. The Coven. They took your life. Your future. They have come into your home once again to threaten your last descendant.”
“A compelling argument,” Rossamond said. Then, she smiled.
Ravyn wanted to shout for joy, but she kept it contained. They still didn’t have a plan, but they were much better off with the spirit helping them.
Ma
ybe now, the Coven could be defeated.
Ravyn tried not to look around for the staff, but she couldn’t stop herself. It was here somewhere. The Bryces had kept it safe for thousands of years, but now that the Coven had discovered it, more and more witches would come.
She didn’t believe they could destroy the Coven that day. They might take out a few members, and maybe even an elder if they were really lucky, but that only meant that the Coven would return for the staff.
However, Ravyn would worry about taking the staff once the Coven was gone from Bryce Castle.
Chapter 28
He should be happy that the ghost was agreeing with him, but Carac couldn’t shake the feeling that it had gone too well. The spirit wanted him dead. Not once had she said that she would allow him to live.
Nor would he assume that she had changed her mind about ending his life. It was simply on hold while they dealt with the threat of the Coven.
Perhaps Rossamond knew that his chances of survival were slim and was allowing things to play out to see the end result. If he happened to live and defeated the Coven, then he might very well come face-to-face with the spirit again.
Carac glanced at Ravyn. More than anything, he wanted her to come through all of this alive and unharmed. She deserved to get retribution for what had been done to her family. And she was needed in the fight with the Coven. With her skills and knowledge of witches, she could inflict significant damage to the Coven. Now, all Carac had to do was convince the ghost of that.
How many times had he stood on a battlefield and accepted that death might very well find him that day? Too many. Now, knowing that his time was likely coming to an end, he thought of all the things that he’d wanted in his life.
Each time he looked at Ravyn, he was reminded of what he’d found—only to lose so quickly. They would have been happy together. Of that he was certain.
In fact, he suspected that they could have the same kind of love that his parents had. His father used to tell him to settle for nothing less than the type of love that he would die for.
Carac had never expected to find such a woman. But he knew in his heart that, given time, that kind of soul-deep affection would develop with Ravyn. In fact, it had already begun without him even realizing it—or trying.