Irish Moon

by Amber Scott

  Breanne almost laughed. Had he said Finn had robbed him of the Bloodstone? “How is that possible?”

  “I do not know or care. But I do know it is true. I’d recognize those eyes anywhere. We need to find him before he manages to unlock the Bloodstone’s secrets.”

  “But, he’s just a cat. Did he pounce you somehow?” She didn’t mean to sound overly incredulous.

  “He stood as a man and moved faster than, well, a wild cat. How, I cannot explain any more than I can explain how you gained knowledge of the Bloodstone.”

  Breanne’s mind turned like a key unlocking a door to reveal a myriad of recollections that fit neatly together. The picture it formed struck a new kind of fear through her. “Oh, nay, please, not Danny.”

  She turned back the way they’d come, ready to sprint back to the hall and verify the boy was safe and that she was wrong. But, Ashlon caught and held her to him.

  “Aye, the cat has been using the boy, I think, to do his ill. We must find them, Breanne.” His arms were like warm, tender vices and she struggled against him. “They have the Bloodstone.”

  “You do not understand. Finn is not simply a cat, he has been held under curse for more years than I can guess and if he has been speaking to Danny ….”

  “He is in danger. Aye, where would they be, Breanne?” His chest was warm on her back, strong but yielding.

  Breanne stopped struggling. She pushed against the well of fear and anxiety to try to see more to the puzzle. The woods that morning, Danny had come. Speaking not to himself, but to Finn of the note. The sapphire cloak, the similar height, the sorrowful trapped look in his young eyes as he told her and Rose…. She cursed herself for not seeing it before, for ignoring her suspicions.

  He was just a boy and still so easily head turned and eager to please. An enchanted talking cat would appeal to his adventurous and romantic nature. But, where would Finn take him and what possible use could he need of him now?

  “You knew of Danny, then? You saw them together,” she said, turning in his arms.

  “Aye, in the yard, in the hall, near the priory, the stables.”

  Breanne added the locations to those already listed in her head: the keep, the grove…. Breanne pulled back from him, ignoring the protest of her limbs that craved his touch. “The priory. Gannon had said as well that Finn had been about there when I asked for his help with the translation. What have I done? It was there, under my nose the entire time.”

  Breanne could scream, her anguish flooded her so.

  Ashlon took her hand. He squeezed it. “We’ll get to him in time. I promise you. You must focus on that, Breanne. You must not consider any other option.” His hand cupped her cheek. ”It is the only way to get through it.”

  Breanne wanted to lean her face against his palm and shut out the storm inside of her. She wanted to return to the cover of his arms. She’d led Finn straight to the stone. She’d failed to protect Danny, so blinded by her own circumstance that naught else penetrated.

  But, no more. She nodded at Ashlon and set her jaw.

  They reached the priory yard within minutes.

  “Where?” Ashlon asked breathlessly.

  “I do not know,” Breanne said. The building’s windows held no light, the stone carvings stared back at them. Breanne tried the door but found it under lock and key.

  “Let us search for a way in,” Ashlon said, meeting her eyes steadily.

  His words and resolve helped her keep the panic further at bay. His strength and honor lent her courage.

  She took the western, he the eastern lay of the stone edifice. Breanne walked slowly and with purpose, listening and watching for signs of life.

  As she searched the canvas of rock and grass and dirt, her mind hunted for reasons Finn might take Danny. She wanted to doubt that he had but knew Danny’s face was not among her mother’s well-wishers. And the heaviness in her belly spoke a certainty she’d grown to trust these last weeks.

  Finn had him. And once she found them, she would know why. The only estimation she gathered was tied to Finn’s curse. What else could be of enough import to steal the stone and kidnap a child? She wondered as well how long the bastard cat had been able to shapeshift into human form. Of course he could as easily be in his original Elvin form when he had come upon Ashlon, she expected.

  Breanne crept low along the wall. She wished she’d spent more time in the structure, visiting her uncle as he and her mother often nagged her of in recent years. She’d meant no disrespect in staying away, to him or to the lord. Her dreams and ambitions had distracted her away and strangely now brought her.

  She wasn’t even certain she would be able to retrace the steps Gannon led her down and paused to consider what they could do to gain entry. Gannon had taken her through a corridor, down stairs, his room had a high window that should be along this wall she stood at.

  Breanne knelt and felt along the wall behind a small hedge and found naught but more wall. The stones were cold and slick. Her fingers followed the curve of one as it dipped downward and discovered another seam connecting the next rock. The pattern repeated over and again, upwards and down. She strayed farther and still, nothing appeared where it should. No windows, high or low and, of course, no door.

  Listening for Danny offered even less reward. All that seemed audible was her own heart, her own breaths coming out in gasps and streams. She would not cry, no matter how dismal, no matter how horrific. She refused to break down.

  The baubles in her hair tinkled softly. Down the hill, in the keep, laughter and music faintly carried. Breanne took a shaky breath, fighting to steady her spirit.

  She would find them. If not her, certainly Ashlon. He was more than capable even against Finn in whatever form he now took. Intriguing that Ashlon had concluded the cat was the man that had accosted him solely by the look of its eyes. Or was there more?

  Breanne’s fingers touched glass and she went still. She bent to the ground and shadow to discern the discovery. She was loath to break the thick stuff but hoped it was a sign that a door would soon appear.

  She rounded the corner and saw Ashlon in the shadows. He motioned her near. Breanne treaded carefully to him through the underbrush and bramble. The moon’s light silhouetted his figure, his sword glinted when he shifted his weight. He looked thinner.

  “I found a window,” she said.

  “No need,” he answered, but it was not Ashlon’s voice.

  Breanne opened her mouth to scream. Finn stepped from the shadows and wrested his arms about her waist and head. A sharp pain stabbed through her temples before the world went black.

  * * * *

  Ashlon pulled his arms down again against the heavy irons around his wrists. He clenched his teeth and gritted past the pain, focusing on feeling a sensation of give in the stone or links. Nothing.

  He gasped and let his arms sag. Breanne and he had not separated more than a moment before Finn had found and taken him prisoner so easily Ashlon felt as powerless as a child. It must be far worse for Danny. He’d woken there in the dank stone cell with a single torch for light and echoes of cries filling his ears.

  Ashlon had called out and fought against the binds, sent insults and challenges at the demon responsible but all for naught. No one responded.

  He’d fouled it all to hell. Breanne was likely captured, as well, Danny’s and her lives might now be at the fiend’s whim to dispose at will. And he could not break the binds, nor bend them. But he could not give up either.

  He had to get to them.

  Ashlon wiped his brow against his bicep. He tasted salt when he licked his lips. The cell was small and short and smelled of earth. The irons were old and heavy. Ashlon stood and tested the length and spread of his body in the cell again. He could reach the ceiling but not the floor. If he stretched to full length he could touch the far wall with a toe.

  But what good would any of these abilities gain him? From deep within, Ashlon allowed the throaty roar to rise and cried out in a
nguish. He kicked the wall behind him until his foot throbbed through his boot.

  Blood trickled down his wrist and he cared not if his blood were poisoned. The clang of iron and his grunts echoed against the walls and clamored for kingship above the distant cries for help that he could not stop or save.

  He cursed Jacques de Molay for ever coming to his father’s estate and offering him a position in the brotherhood. He cursed the throne and the papacy for their greed. He wished them all, it all, to hell for the pain he now suffered.

  But in the recesses of his mind he knew he would not take a moment of it back. He would relive it all, even this terrible hour, to be with her again.

  He fell back against the wall and lifted his head heavenward. It was the only and last thing he could think to do. A pitiful and hollow act as it might be, he spoke the words, ignoring the anger staggering his heart.

  “Christus vincit! Christus regnat! Christus imperat! Exaudi, Christe. Ecclesiae Sanctae Dei salus perpetua. Redemptor mundi, Tu illam adjuva,” Ashlon said, his hands rising up with each word. Strengthen, assist, he repeated the prayer over and over until a low hum filled him.

  He closed his eyes and recalled Breanne standing before the stone slab in the forest. He returned to that place and time and smelled the trees and felt the stars in the vastness impressing down upon them.

  The dew shimmered, the night hummed around them. He looked at her, unafraid and watched the light uncurl. He softly called out her name.

  * * * *

  Finn woke her with a drench of cold seawater that had her sputtering and choking awake. He sat on his haunches before her with a smile that was more catlike than any he’d given her in feline form. She met his eyes and knew Ashlon’s conclusion as accurate.

  Breanne heard Ashlon’s call deep inside of her. She could not answer. The features from her portend, the man that held Ashlon’s life in his hands, stared back at her. Finn. The eyes were unmistakably his. And the color was not the single indication. The pupils were elongated as a cat’s and coldly assessed her.

  The look made her skin crawl at the nape of her neck and her stomach turn. In human form, Finn was uncomfortably handsome. No greenish skin or hunched backs there. He was tall and muscular and pretty faced. The gray streaks even added to his appearance and gave a distinguished air to him. But, it also looked like cat fur.

  She had not seen the obvious similarity when the presage had occurred. But it was clear now as well as her need to stop the prediction’s fulfillment.

  “Where is he?” she said. Her throat burned and her voice was hoarse. Water dripped down her nose, tickling the tip of it.

  “Which one, Breanne? The boy or the man?” Finn leaned close and licked the drip from her nose. His tongue was prickly and warm.

  “Danny. Where is Danny?” She trusted Ashlon to be alright and alive. More than sensing his call, he was a man capable and used to maneuvering in and out of tight spots.

  Finn chuckled and traced a sharp nailed finger down her cheek. He considered her, his head tilted.

  “I once thought you would be mine, that you were meant for me. I should have known I would need to rely on myself in the end. Leave it to a woman to ruin a perfectly good situation with sentimentality.”

  “I am yours, Finn. You’ve made sure of that by bringing me here. You don’t need Danny any longer. Let him go.”

  He shook his head at her. His eyes fell to her breasts.

  “Can you imagine what it was like for me, Breanne, all this time being foisted upon incompetent after incompetent? Can you guess the longing I felt, the frustration?”

  She did not care. “Retribution for your sins, I have long presumed.”

  Finn’s eyes left her breast line and returned to her face. “What do you know of my sins? What do you know of any sin, aside from that of the flesh?” His tongue curled on his lip.

  “What has any of it to do with Danny now? Leave him be if you want my cooperation or help.”

  “What makes you believe I seek either?”

  “You’ve brought me here. You have the stone.”

  His gaze went back to her breasts. With her arms pinned back, sitting, she could do little to hide them as they pressed against the fabric.

  “Perhaps, I only seek a taste of the feast you’ve paraded before me for these last, long years. Did you consider that?”

  She wanted to cringe but couldn’t allow him to see her fear. Bathing, dressing. It had seemed innocent enough to do before a cat, enchanted as he might be. She never thought of him as a man. A sense of filth crept beneath her skin.

  “Not at all,” she retorted. “I merely assumed you preferred to violate a beast over a woman. Minerva seems more your taste.”

  Finn slapped her soundly, leaving a ringing thud in her ear. He stood and paced the room. Quickly, Breanne gauged it. Several torches, irons hanging from the ceiling, a large stone table.

  He circled the table, his hand trailing the surface. “You deserve to die out of sheer ignorance, Breanne. Never with all my Ovates, have I counted myself so doomed as when Heremon gave me to you. You cannot even boil water, let alone make a map of time to travel and see.”

  Breanne felt for give in her binds, her fingers were growing numb. She needed to help Danny. The door was behind Finn, behind the table.

  “Then why am I here? To rape, is that all, Finn?” Breanne laughed. If she could get him close again, she might be able to hurt him, kick him, something. But, the farther he walked, the longer he gazed upon the table, the higher her fear climbed.

  A sick feeling formed in her belly. Finn had not answered her regarding Danny, not even once. Surely, he was alive, hidden somewhere. Certainly, Finn only used the boy as a lure and a pawn.

  The only other act Finn might need Danny for, Breanne would not entertain the thought of. Finn might be desperate but he could not be so soulless as to attempt a sacrifice. In a blur, Finn produced a knife from behind. In another flash, he produced the stone.

  He lifted each in either hand and smirked at her. He set them down on the table. It was her boline. She last used it to demonstrate her cunning for Ashlon in the woods, then left it on the ground, befuddled by his effect on her.

  She kept silent, her brow arched and her face placid.

  The Bloodstone glowed amber as though a flame danced within it but not from the torches’ reflection. It held its own light and the color worsened her sickness. Finn’s intentions tainted the previously blue light. Or had she only imagined the color, changed it based on her own desires for protection?

  Finn stroked the stone’s topmost surface with a finger and the light within followed his path, swirling and expanding. Breanne felt she might vomit.

  Her heart hummed a moment. Ashlon. He was growing desperate. He’d come back, sought her help, and now might die for it. And if he died she could not forgive herself.

  She loved him. She might not be able to ask for his heart. She would keep him safe.

  But, first, Danny.

  While Finn stroked and continued his silence, she coiled the energy inside her heart and envisioned it spreading out in wavy fingers, touching the floor, feeling the walls for signs of Danny.

  Finn’s gaze narrowed on her. “That’s enough.” He came to her.

  Breanne readied for another slap, or worse, but he only jerked her to her feet and dragged her to the table. He produced her dagger and slit the bindings. Within a blink, he stood opposite her and within another Danny lay upon it between them with the stone at his feet.

  She gasped and touched his face despite the prickling sensation in her hand. His skin was pale, his lips were blue tingeg and she saw no signs of breathing.

  “He lives,” Finn said when she pressed her head to Danny’s heart. “He must for the rite to work.”

  Breanne listened for a beat. She took his cold hand in hers and jiggled it. The room felt small, sickeningly warm, yet the door seemed so far away.

  She needed to get her blade back. She needed to get he
lp.

  Finn opened the laces of Danny’s shirt. A glimpse of the man he would grow to showed in the outline of his muscles and collarbone. She had to ensure he lived.

  Finn placed his hand there on pale skin she knew to be as cold as the hand she held, willing it to move. Finn dusted his fingers in a hover.

  Breanne inhaled sharply as color flushed Danny’s skin. Warmth spread through Danny’s hand, warm enough to draw tears to her eyes and a calm to her mind. He was alive. But he wouldn’t be for long if Finn had his way.

  “Tell me Finn, how did you manage a shapeshift into your original Elvin form?” she said, her lip quivered. She bit it. Mayhap a sacrifice would not be necessary to lift the curse.

  Only during black magic in ancient times did some Druid sects use human sacrifice to further their inclinations. The rare practice died off when the priests who used it got more than they bargained for and evil consumed them.

  “Heremon’s book. In turns at each month’s full moon, I’ve been able to resume this form thanks to a spell I found in his Grimoire.” Finn didn’t look at her. “He refused to help me make it permanent.”

  Her eyes widened. She should have guessed when Ashlon told her Finn had taken the stone that he had killed Heremon, as well. Breanne jiggled Danny’s hand again. She willed him to wake up.

  Danny didn’t move.

  “What makes you believe I will be able to,” she said. “What makes you think I will even try.”

  Finn smiled at her and it almost looked sympathetic. “You will make it work to save my need of using him. For, you also know that with a sacrifice, I will make it work myself.” He brushed the hair from Danny’s brow. “And because you love your half brother, though not by your father.”

  Breanne swallowed the gasp. She had not misheard him. The lifelong connection she had felt for Danny was of blood after all. She had no time to question why her mother had given her son to Isolde nor what became of Isolde’s baby. And mayhap she already knew. A vision of her mother being held down, a rutting invader atop her, flashed into Breanne's mind. Nausea rose in her gut, but she quelled it, pushing the dark memory back whence it came.