The MacLomain Series: A New Beginning Boxed Set (Books 1-4)

by Purington, Sky

  It would not happen.

  Even if it meant forfeiting his own life to achieve such.

  Because were they not one and the same? Which meant if he died so should his enemy.

  Chapter Seventeen

  THOUGH IT WASN’T RAINING, the morning of the Battle of Byland Moor dawned overcast and dreary. Or at least it seemed that way to Jessie.

  She feared what might be on the horizon. The enemy had planned well, and this last warlock might truly get his way. She sighed and tossed Bryce a guilty look. Though he was incredibly good about it, she felt like a rift had grown between them since yesterday. That she had let him down.

  Yet that wasn’t her only reason for feeling guilty.

  No that had more to do with the warlock’s allure.

  Something she clearly couldn’t get past.

  “Are you ready then, lass?” Bryce said softly as his eyes met hers. “’Twill be a day that goes down in history.”

  She worried it might very well. Just not the way he meant it.

  “Yes.” She nodded, sure to look and sound confident as he hoisted her onto a horse then swung up behind her.

  Sir Walter Stewart had already left with three hundred moss-troopers. His mission was to attack Rievaulx Abbey as soon as the English line was broken by the Scottish Army on Roulston Scar. Christina and Graham had traveled with him to offer any help they could.

  Sir James Douglas was already off with his soldiers lighting more fires to create extra smoke. This would conceal Robert’s movements from the Earl of Richmond, the English commander. Right now, she, Bryce and his kin were traveling with Robert’s army. Unable to help himself, Conall intended to make sure the smoke was thick and nearly impossible to see through.

  She and Bryce said very little as they traveled, and within a few hours, they arrived around the rear of Roulston Scar. The smoke had, as planned, concealed a good two thirds of Robert’s army in clumps of trees below a gully close to where they were now. The purpose of this move, of course, was to give the appearance that the Scottish army hosted far fewer men than it actually did.

  “We’ll not engage in battle lest we have to,” Grant said to Robert as they dismounted. “For historical reasons, that is.”

  “Aye.” Robert nodded, having heard the same at the Battle of Bannockburn.

  She knew it was awful timing, but nature called so she whispered to Bryce, “I need a few moments alone.”

  “’Tis not a verra good time, lass.” He frowned. “These woods are dangerous.”

  She flinched. “I don’t think I can hold it.”

  “Och,” he murmured but nodded. “Aye then, I’ll take you someplace private.” He took her into the forest a short distance but far enough. “Is this all right?”

  It would have to be. She would not risk waiting any longer. Especially considering she had caught his thoughts last night and knew of Bryce’s dark intentions. That he would forfeit his own life in hopes of destroying the warlock.

  “Yes, this spot is fine,” she replied softly, not needing to relieve herself at all. That had been a lie to get them alone. Courage rallied as much as it ever would be, she met his eyes and whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

  “Why are you sorry,” he began but trailed off as the air grew icy. Stunned, he shook his head. The look in his eyes was both horror-stricken and heartbroken as he realized what was happening.

  She had betrayed him.

  “I just can’t let him go,” she murmured as she backed away from him. “I was a fool for thinking I could.” She shook her head, tears in her eyes. “He’s been with me for so long...not you.”

  “But I am him,” Bryce replied, his voice hoarse and his brogue thick. “Ye said so yerself.”

  “I said that because I was weak and afraid after being separated from him,” she replied as the warlock drew closer, triumph in his dark eyes as he relished Bryce’s reaction. “He kept me strong where you only make me weaker.”

  With a small chant and a flick of her hand, she flung Bryce's weapons away from him so he couldn’t take his own life and possibly the warlocks with it.

  His scowl only deepened as he looked from the warlock to her. “Ye cannae be serious.”

  “Just look at me!” She wiped away a tear with disgust. “This isn’t how I want to live. Feeling weak,” her eyes went to the warlock, “when I could feel strong.” Her eyes returned to Bryce with resolve. “I refuse to live this way...I’m helping my love.” She shook her head again. “Him, not you.”

  She pulled out her little book and looked at the warlock. A face she recognized so well. A man she wanted to be with above all others. Her true love.

  “Are you ready?” she whispered. “Are you ready to warn the English and see that they win today?”

  “Aye,” the warlock murmured, his dark eyes glistening with approval. “I have been ready for a verra long time.”

  This was it. The moment she had been waiting for.

  So she flipped to the page after the one she had drawn of him yesterday and made one single stroke. Then she flipped to the next page and began sketching rapidly but not before the warlock figured out something was wrong and ripped the book away.

  As his eyes fell to the page she had made one stroke on, Adlin and Grant appeared.

  “Och, nay,” the warlock seethed, as his disbelieving eyes flew to hers. “What have ye done?”

  What she had done, working covertly with the arch-wizards, was concoct a plan.

  One she prayed would work.

  Seconds later, mimicking the picture she had begun yesterday and just finished, her gem began to glow. Not the dark inkiness of the warlock’s eyes but the bright golden of Bryce’s. Now she could only hope it wasn’t just her manifestation but the real deal.

  That God willing, true love really did exist between her and Bryce.

  Half a breath later, things started happening.

  The warlock kept shaking his head, pain and betrayal in his eyes as his features began to twist and change. They became less and less Bryce’s and more grotesque before a wave of energy burst out of him and slammed into Bryce. Yet a piece lingered as the warlock struggled to hold on to him. As he roared and raged in denial.

  An unparalleled power struggle ensued between Bryce and the warlock, but it didn’t last long. The warlock never stood a chance once another’s magic became involved. It screeched in pain when something suddenly shot out of Jessie and ripped the last tendril free.

  Erin’s dragon magic.

  As the warlock roared again in rage, Bryce blinked several times. At first, he seemed baffled before fury filled him. Teeth clenched, he narrowed his eyes. He and the warlock were no longer connected.

  Its death would not mean his.

  Jessie felt Bryce become whole again like a bolt of energizing electricity. As it was for him, newfound strength was pouring through her. More than that, something even more profound happened. Without the strength of Bryce inside him, the warlock could no longer hold onto what else he had stolen.

  She widened her eyes in surprise when colors swirled out of the warlock and rushed into her.

  For a split second, she was a little girl facing off with her grandfather again. He was stealing her dragon, and she finally felt it. Remembered it. The horrible sensation of losing such an important piece of herself. The rage and pain and sadness her little dragon felt. The emptiness they both experienced as they lost each other. Though a small piece of her inner beast’s magic had remained, it was nothing compared to what she felt now.

  Nothing could touch the glory of her dragon returning to her.

  All became very clear at that point. When her dragon was stolen, the enemy had not only erased her memory of it but put up an extra barrier between her and her true identity. He had cast a spell that made her fear things dragons should love. Hence her fear of anything that took her off the ground.

  If that wasn’t enough, he had given the warlock added power over her.

  Not only was she drawn
to the piece of Bryce within it but her own dragon. That was why she remembered walking into the warlock’s arms but never knew what happened next. Because there was nothing beyond that but darkness. The warlock, no matter how much he wanted to, was incapable of returning a love that never belonged to him, to begin with. And he would never reveal her dragon, his greatest weapon against her. So it would always just be a dream she awoke from, none the wiser.

  In the blink of an eye, she remembered even more.

  How she had shifted a few times but promised Mama she would keep it hidden until her dragon was older and stronger. Then and only then would she attack her grandfather. Yet he took that chance away and stole her dragon first.

  Then, as only a dragon could do, her memories rolled back further in time to the very moment she was born. The connection she and her twin sister had made when her younger sibling was swaddled and laid down beside her minutes later. Even then their little dragons knew exactly who the other was. But then they had simultaneously shared a womb, and no experience was more powerful for their kind.

  “We’re running out of time,” her mother had whispered. “I’m growing weaker, and you need to get her out of here.”

  Brand new into the world, Jessie stared up into her father’s eyes as he leaned over her. Suddenly she knew with absolute certainty that he was still alive out there somewhere. Someday she would meet him, and his love for her would be as strong then as it was right now. She could see it in his dragon eyes. Sad eyes. “Let me take them both. They’ll be stronger together. I will protect them.”

  “You know that’s not possible,” her mother replied, standing beside him, strong though she had so recently birthed them. “I was only able to hide one of them from him. The other must stay here and be strong. She must follow the path meant for her.”

  Jessie knew that ‘him’ could only be in reference to the man who pretended to be her grandfather. She also understood as she looked up into her parent’s eyes that she was the one who was meant to stay behind. She was the one who would have to be strong so that her sister could be safe.

  It was also in those moments that she realized the sacrifice her mother had made. She used nearly all of her magic to hide their real father from the enemy then protected her children the best way she knew how. She forfeited her magic entirely, using the last of it so that the enemy would only ever know Jessie existed. And what real threat was but one child? As far as he knew she inherited her dragon blood from her grandfather. A dragon he fully intended to take from her anyway. And what of her magic? If her grandfather was no match for him how could she be?

  Yet look at her now.

  More of a threat than he ever realized.

  A threat that would see his dark influence wiped out entirely. His days of hurting others was over. His pitiful weakness would no longer stain this country or anyone she cared about. So, harnessing a lifetime of repressed anger, she gave her dragon free rein and turned her considerable fury on all that was left of him.

  Grant and Adlin began chanting as Jessie’s eyes hazed red and untouchable wrath filled her. Stripped of everything that had made him strong, the warlock staggered back but only so far before he hit a wall of Adlin’s making that trapped him in place. Meanwhile, Grant thickened the smoke all around them so that anything that might take place here would not be seen.

  In that singular moment, all the years came rushing back. The sadness and repression. The awful life this curse had subjected her and her family to. All the damage it had caused for Bryce and his kin. Losing Darach for years. Fraser. And saddest of all, Kenna’s death.

  Any flicker of misguided gratitude she might have felt toward this warlock was gone.

  Only the cold, hard truth remained.

  This warlock was the last hold the enemy had over her and Scotland.

  As Jessie roared in outrage, familiar power filled her, and the warlock grew smaller. Ugly, twisted and terrified, he trembled in fear as she at long last embraced her dragon again. Now she would avenge so many. Now she would exact retribution for Bryce’s torture at the English encampment and his many near death experiences while time-traveling.

  When her eyes went to Bryce, he nodded. Though he hadn’t shifted his dragon eyes flared with pride. “This is your kill, Jessie. End him, lass.”

  Wrapped around the tip of her talon, her ring shined brightly as she lowered her head close to the warlock. She bared her teeth and narrowed her eyes as she spoke within its mind, her words seething and disgusted. “You are powerless over me without Bryce in you. He was all I ever cared about. May you rot in Hell with your creator.”

  Then, for the first time in her life, she roared fire.

  The warlock screamed in pain, twisting and writhing until it could no longer move. She kept on roaring until there was nothing left but ashes. As those ashes blew away on the wind, she realized not only Bryce was standing there but Sven. Both had kept her fire from incinerating the forest beyond.

  When her eyes met Sven’s dragon eyes, the air pulsed and the symbol of the fiery dragon flared between them. As she shifted back and the symbol drifted away in a burst of sparks, she knew Scotland’s curse had been lifted, but Scandinavia’s prophecy had just begun.

  One that she could tell by the look in Sven’s eyes he saw far more clearly now.

  Death to Scotland had been part of Jessie’s curse.

  Death to those who fly was part of her sister’s prophecy.

  “My father,” Sven said softly, anger flaring in his eyes as they met Aðísla’s when she appeared. “And King Heidrek.”

  “Are in dire trouble,” she replied. “And in need of a king to unite their people.”

  “But they are king’s,” he murmured before his words trailed off and the turmoil in his eyes only grew.

  “The curse has been lifted, and Scotland is safe.” Aðísla’s voice remained firm and her eyes strong as they held Sven’s. “Now it’s time to go home and make sure our people are safe as well.”

  He nodded before his eyes returned to Jessie’s. “You have done well, ruler of dragons. I’m very impressed and proud to call you kin.”

  “Thank you.” She worked at a smile, sad to see him go but understanding things much better now. Not necessarily the prophecy but the small part she played in it. “Emily will be safe at the house in Winter Harbor until...” she swallowed hard but remained strong, “until my sister arrives. Then my magic will lift, and hers will take over.”

  Though she wasn’t entirely sure what she was protecting Emily from, she knew it possessed dragon blood. And based on the ominous words death to those who fly, trouble was most certainly on the horizon.

  Sven clasped her shoulder gently. “You will meet your sister someday.” A knowing glint lit his eyes. “Perhaps sooner than you think.”

  “I hope so,” she murmured. “Let me know the second she needs me, and I’ll be there. The second you and your people need me for that matter.”

  He nodded as his eyes held hers for a moment longer before he turned to Bryce and bid him farewell.

  “Wishing ye the verra best, my friend,” Bryce said. “Like Jessie said, we’ll be there for ye the moment ye need us, aye?”

  Sven nodded again, grateful. “I will keep that in mind. Thank you.”

  After everyone said their goodbyes, Sven and Aðísla left. She only prayed as she watched them fade away to travel back in time, that all went well. As it was, prophesies could be even trickier than curses.

  Once they vanished, she became aware of a transparent couple standing a ways off in the woods. Her grandmother and by his dark, handsome gypsy looks, she would say her real grandfather. When his eyes locked with hers, warmth and pride filled her. The sort of warmth a child might feel when reflecting on a happy upbringing with a family that loved her. And the sort of pride a dragon might feel when their elder dragon was impressed by her.

  “Goodbye,” she whispered, wiping away a tear as they smiled then faded into the afterlife. Like all of them,
her grandfather was free at last to enjoy love.

  “My lass,” Bryce murmured before he finally pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Not light and fleeting but passionately. Where she had always felt a rush of excitement in his arms, now it felt a thousand times stronger. Not just because of the ring igniting but because she was finally free of all darkness. Lighter in a way she had never felt before, she melted into him, beyond grateful everything had gone the way they planned.

  “Planned,” he murmured, as he pulled his lips away and narrowed his eyes at a very smug Adlin and Grant. “All three of you, then?”

  “Aye.” Adlin beamed. “And ‘twas nice to finally have some control over the outcome of things!”

  “Aye,” Grant agreed, grinning. “Verra nice, indeed.”

  Bryce’s narrowed eyes returned to hers, though a small smile hovered on his lips. “How long have you three been planning this?”

  She smiled. “Since around the time I summoned my grandmother.” Her eyes went from the arch-wizards to him. “We had to keep it from you in case the warlock was listening through his connection to you.”

  “And the thoughts you had?” He looked at her curiously. “Those about missing the warlock?”

  “All for his benefit,” she assured. “Pretty much from the moment Adlin said I needed to get my emotions under control, we were preparing to set him up.”

  “I thought that was callous of him to say at the time.” Bryce kept considering her as he confirmed. “So everything you said and even thought was for my benefit in the hope the warlock was listening.”

  She nodded as she picked up the little book. While she thought for sure it would vanish along with the curse, it remained. Yet it looked and felt different now. Just like her, it was lighter. Better.

  “Its pages are now made from the old oak tree in front of the Colonial in New Hampshire,” she whispered in wonder before her eyes went to Grant and Adlin. “The tree remains alive and well and free from the curse now too.”