A Family Oath

by Auburn Tempest

  And here I am.

  “Fiona, a leanbh.” Fionn kneels over me and places his rough palm heavy on my chest. The rush of power is immediate, and I’m free from the hold of paralysis.

  Rolling to the side, I grip his hand and swallow air in huge gulps. He squeezes my grip and anchors me. I feel his strength and power and absorb a little of it until my panic subsides enough that I can breathe.

  “Bathalt has the book. We have to go.”

  Fionn looks at me and frowns. He grabs a plain muslin tunic and tosses it to me. I shrug out of the tatters of my dresses and pull it on.

  “Damn, I miss pockets.” I shove my phone against my belly in my underwear and flatten my tunic. The poncho survived unscathed, so I pull that on over the top. “And today’s guest on TLC’s What Not To Wear, Fiona Cumhaill.”

  “Where’s the manservant lad?”

  “In the armoire.”

  “Why is he in the armoire?”

  “It was a moment of crisis. That’s where he ended up.”

  “Did ye kill him?”

  “What kind of girl do you think I am? He’s sleeping.”

  We’re about to run out the door when I spot a parchment and quill set out on a little desk.

  A convo with Garnet smacks me in the face. “It’s said the original book circulated for a very short time before it disappeared and was copied by the manservant of the sorcerer who had it last.”

  “Oswald is the one who makes the copies.” I scan the pages and frown. “Will it screw up the timeline if I destroy these?”

  “It’ll change it. I can’t say whether that’s good or bad.”

  I think about it for a minute and gather the pages. Destroying dark magic spells and demented ramblings of evil can’t be a bad thing.

  I run them over to the fireplace and drop them inside.

  Bonfire.

  As the parchment goes up in flames, Fionn arches a brow. I wave away his concern. “It’ll be fine. Trust me.”

  The two of us rush out of Bathalt’s chambers and up the hall. When we round the corner, we practically crash bodily into Merlin as he strides toward us. “Have you got the book?”

  I shake my head. “No, Bathalt took it and bolted.”

  “Where’d he go?”

  “I have no idea—” The crack of a lightning strike makes the three of us wince and duck. “The sudden, freak lightning storm could be a hint.”

  Fionn nods, and we race off. We weave through the corridors of castle chambers until we come to the open ballroom space where Oswald and I were attacked this afternoon.

  The charge of energy in the air makes the hair on my arms stand on end, and I look out onto the balcony. “There!”

  I point and launch into a run.

  Bathalt stands at the end of the balcony, arms raised, the amulet in his right hand glowing against the night sky. The book sits on a stone podium before him and pulses with golden light.

  I point at the scene ahead of us. “There’s your dream of the raven in the storm.”

  It’s exactly as Merlin described it to me last night. Bathalt reaching up to the dark storm, the malevolence in the air churning with ill intent.

  “I’ll handle the sorcerer,” Fionn says. “You two get the book and get clear of here.”

  “What? Why?” My heart races. “We should all get the sorcerer.”

  Fionn shakes that off. “Which one of the three of us is already dead?”

  I meet Merlin’s confusion and shrug. “Long story. But no, I need you to get back. You’re my Tardis.”

  Merlin steps forward. “Yer uncle and I will take on Bathalt. You get the book.”

  I sigh. “Okay, I’m on book retrieval…but if the sorcerer proves too much, it’s Musketeer time.”

  Both of them look at me blank-faced.

  I roll my eyes. “All for one and one for all.”

  Without waiting for the looks of billowing fog to clear, I call Birga and stride into the mix. Merlin and Fionn each have much longer legs so although I’m the first to start, they pass me a split-second later.

  Fionn raises his hands at the same time Merlin does, and the fight is on. The moment the first spell hits the protective bubble, Bathalt turns, and we’re busted.

  He laughs, and the dome strikes back, countering their hit.

  The two of them are suddenly defending, and I wait for the incoming hit on me. It doesn’t come.

  The storm intensifies, and whatever he’s muttering in tongues makes my skin itch. And that stink. Ugh…it’s like maggoty trash that’s been sitting in the July sun.

  Dark magic is so nasty.

  Merlin and Fionn attack the protective field surrounding Bathalt, and with each hit, the dome lights up against the darkness of his workings and retaliates.

  That’s it. The dome is retaliating. If I throw in with them, we’ll all be defending instead of moving in for the attack.

  The howling cuckaaaws of a demented raven rend the air.

  The bird wasn’t a placeholder of symbolism in Merlin’s prophetic dream. It’s here, and even a noob like me can guess that’s Morgana or the essence of her somehow.

  Another couple of massive hits from Fionn and Merlin and the dome looks as solid and as pissed off as ever.

  “It’s not working,” I say.

  Merlin casts me what might be the all-time first “Well duh” look in history.

  The baleful screams of wind seem to mock my distress. I corral my hair and flip it out of my face.

  Lighting strikes again.

  It cuts a jagged line through the void of violence and hits the book. Fae magic sings in my blood as the book swells and glows gold with power.

  Bathalt shouts his spell, reading the words as our last chance to stop him quickly circles the drain.

  Merlin and Fionn bombard the ward, but it’s no use. Every strike comes back at them three-fold. Except…

  When the shield lights up this time, I notice it’s not actually a dome. It’s more like a clamshell protecting him from the sides and behind. The beast’s belly is exposed so he can work his magic and cast out to the sky.

  “We need to attack him from the front,” I shout.

  Merlin looks at me, and I cup my hand and gesture with the tip of Birga’s spear that we need to attack the open side.

  Damn, I wish Sloan was here.

  Any chance Merlin’s a wayfarer?

  When he doesn’t immediately poof to the balcony’s open side and attack head-on, I assume not.

  From the front…from the front…

  Oh, shit.

  The book swells, and its glow magnifies. It levitates off the podium, and the raven spreads her wings, embracing the chaos of the storm that holds her suspended in the air.

  The hair on my arms prickles again and I feel the lightning build. This strike will seal the deal. I don’t know how I know that for sure, but I do.

  I can’t let that happen, but how do I…

  When the sky explodes, I flash Birga away and raise my hands. After gripping onto the lightning’s energy, I call the power of the bolt with everything I have.

  “Command Lighting.” I pull against the instinct of the strike. The sorcerer may have conjured it, but a druid has dominion over nature. I scream as the power vibrates in my cells and rattles in my bones.

  Instead of striking the book, I retarget the lightning and—“Bam! Nothing but smoking boots.”

  Bathalt goes up in a fiery explosion of magic, and the raven shrieks a shrill promise of vengeance.

  “Booyah! Drop the mic. Good guys get the book.”

  * * *

  Without the sorcerer fueling the storm, the raven shrieks and is pulled back into the darkness. The skies clear and the stars in the night sky shine through. I wait until the book stops glowing, then approach the makeshift altar Balthar used with extreme caution.

  Fionn scowls. “Be of care, lass.”

  No kidding.

  Deciding to give the book a timeout and let it cool down,
I retrieve the broach from the ground. “I think you’re supposed to take care of this, my friend. You still have it in our time. Although, when you need a good hiding spot in 1817, the grave of John Ridout will do you well.”

  Merlin pockets the broach and nods. “I won’t forget.”

  “Now for the book.” I inch closer, my hand extended, my attention focused on the shield on my back. When nothing comes back at me besides a general tingle of warning, I figure the worst is over.

  I’m about to touch it when—“Ah! Holy-crapamoly!”

  I jump up and down and smack my chest as my heart punches at the base of my throat.

  “What is it?” Fionn’s gaze skitters in every direction.

  Merlin is tense and searching for danger.

  The vibrate phone alarm went off in my underwear. TMI.

  Wicked TMI.

  “Never mind. S’all good. I…uh, had a moment. Fionn, our time is up. It’s time to get this evil baby home. Have you figured out how we’re doing that yet?”

  He shakes his head. “The trouble is, ye’ll reappear there back in yer body. Yer physical form never left the bookshop. Yer still there.”

  “Right, but there has to be a way. Otherwise, why are we here and what have we been doing?”

  “Aye, there’s a way. I simply don’t like it.”

  “Lay it on me, dude, ’cause it’s now or never.”

  “You need her to take it into her body.” Merlin frowns. He points at Birga lying in wait in the tattoo on my arm. “It’s the same principle as this.”

  I draw a deep breath and nod. “Okay, then do it. I’ll accept it. Then, when we get home, I’ll cast it out, and we’ll figure out what to do with it there.”

  “What if the tie remains, a leanbh? Accepting an enchanted object into your body creates a bond. You can’t take magical ties that bind lightly.”

  “I’m not taking it lightly. If there were another way, I’d be all ears for hearing it, but you’ve thought about this for days, maybe longer. We’re not going to come up with a better idea in the next ten minutes. So, we go with what we’ve got.”

  “Fi, I admire yer commitment, but ye have to understand that tempering power as dark and seductive as this will be a great burden. What if ye succumb to the allure? What if ye become the next dark druid of Toronto people need to stop?”

  I shake that off. “Won’t happen. I can do this.”

  Merlin frowns. “I swear to you, Fiona. I will dedicate the next fifteen hundred years to figuring out how to remove it, but understand there may not be a way.”

  “Okay, let’s say I’m stuck with it? Give me a best to worst-case scenario here.”

  Merlin pegs me with a serious gaze. “If we can’t free you of the burden, the best case is that you’ll fight the pull of dark power the rest of your life and you go mad for not succumbing to Morgana’s call. The worst is that you access the book, turn to the seduction of evil, and release the dark witch from her prison to destroy the world as you know it.”

  Allll righty then. “An A-plus to you for capturing the drama of the stakes.” I think about it, and my mind spins. As sucky as it sounds, I don’t see another answer. “Okay, do it. We’ll handle that disaster when it blows up in my face on the other end of the line.”

  Merlin shakes his head. “There’s a saying that on the field of combat is when you truly learn a knight’s true nature. It’s in the face of destruction the world sees if he is a warrior or a coward. You, Fiona mac Cumhaill, are a warrior.”

  I smile. “You say the nicest things, my friend. Now, curse me with the evil book and send me back through time.”

  He chuckles. “Release your natural armor and sit. You won’t want to be standing when I do this.”

  I release Tough as Bark and sit on the stone balcony, my back against the wall.

  Merlin places one hand on the ensorcelled book and the other on my bare thigh. The darkness of the power taints the air. He tenses and winces under the strain. With his eyes closed, he speaks in tongues, his lips moving too fast and his voice too low for me to follow his enchantment.

  I close my eyes as nausea builds in the pit of my belly, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to puke on my friends. I press my fingers over my mouth and try to ignore the burn of indigestion aching at the bottom of my throat.

  I swallow to push down the fire, but it’s like I’ve eaten an entire bag of spicy jalapeno bombers from Church’s Chicken, and I didn’t tamp down the fire with three of those delicious honey biscuits.

  “How do you fare?” Merlin asks.

  “Two thumbs up. I’m not possessed by evil, and I am very glad we skipped dinner tonight. I’ll see you at Myra’s Mystical Emporium in a minute.”

  “I’ll be there with you, Fiona. I won’t let her take you.”

  I nod, more worried about the darkness taking him in the meantime. “Keep your chin up. The time for Pan Dora to shine is coming. Life is good in the twenty-first century, my friend. Queens on Queen, remember that.”

  Merlin finishes, and I look down. The skin of my leg consumed the book.

  Awesome. Yet another tattoo I never wanted.

  “Thank you.”

  He rises and helps me to my feet. “Go now. I’m waiting for you on the other side.”

  I smile at the face of my friend, and whether it’s a man with stubble and long brown hair or powdered and wearing a fabulous navy blue wig and leopard sheath dress, a true friend is all I see. “See you soon. Yeah, I hope you’ve figured out how to exorcise me.”

  I nod at Fionn and feel the building energy as he accesses whatever tricks he has in his Nether bag to take me home. My head spins, and Fionn’s power builds inside me.

  I gasp and throw my hands out as the world rights itself.

  I stare up into Sloan’s mint-green eyes, and I know I’m home. “Hey, Mackenzie.”

  “Thank the powers. Yer back. What the hell happened?”

  Before I can answer, Dora pushes Sloan out of the way. “Welcome back, cookie. I hope this works.” Dora hands me a glass vial with a brilliant red liquid inside. “Every drop. Down it goes.”

  I do what I’m told without question and feel the book wriggling inside me. It burns, and the heartburn of earlier doesn’t begin to cover the fire of the magma burning inside me.

  I pop the button of my pants and wriggle them off my hips. “Get it out of me, Dora. I won’t be able to hold it for long.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The liquid Dora gives me burns down my esophagus and tastes like gloopy, black licorice. I gag on the aftertaste, but amazingly, I swallow and keep it down.

  “Lift your hips, Fi.” I arch my back and groan at the onslaught of clawing darkness spreading through me. “Emmet and Sloan, help her with her pants. I need access to the tattoo on her thigh.”

  I cry out as they jostle me but try to hold still as my pants get tugged down my thighs. Cold air hits my heated flesh, and I shiver.

  “What the fuck?” Emmet says. “What’s happening to her, and where’d that come from?”

  Sloan clasps my hand and leans in. “What can I do?”

  I can’t speak. If I open my mouth, I’ll either puke Dora’s remedy or scream like a mindless banshee. I refuse to do either. Instead, I dive into those mint-green eyes.

  Sloan seems to understand and locks down. “I’ve got ye. Whatever this is, I’ll not leave ye.” A rush of healing energy tingles from our joined hands, and the pain ebbs into the background. It’s not gone so much as held at bay. “Focus on me, and it’ll be over soon.”

  “Fi, I’m ready. Release the book,” Dora instructs.

  I do as she says, but the darkness doesn’t relent. My leg is on fire, and the moment the book is gone, the agony of withdrawal replaces the pain of the bond.

  It’s excruciating. I want it back.

  I bite my bottom lip to keep from losing my mind and begging for it back. Another wave of shivers racks me.

  The trembling isn’t from the cold air this t
ime. My entire body vibrates with a mean dose of the quakes. I want to see what’s happening, but I’ll lose my grip if I look away from Sloan.

  “Emmet. I’ll take that buffer now.” Dora’s voice sounds strained. “I have to sever the enchantment’s bond.”

  My brother lets go of my other hand, and Sloan collects it and brings it to his lips. “I take it ye had another one of yer astral time jumps with Fionn?”

  Such a smart guy.

  He gathers both of my hands in one of his and brushes away the tears streaming down my cheeks. “The brave and beautiful Fiona Cumhaill. Life’s set ye on a tough path, hasn’t it?”

  I don’t feel brave or beautiful at the moment.

  “That should help,” Dora says. “Any better?”

  I gasp and suck in a breath. My murderous desire to level everyone in the room and reclaim the book has subsided.

  I still feel out of control, though.

  “A little.”

  “Give it a moment.”

  Sloan smiles, the worry in his eyes held at bay. I focus on loosening my grip on his hand, but he doesn’t let go completely. “Take another minute. Catch yer breath. The world can wait until you’re ready.”

  Another pulse of his healing energy seeps up my arms and into the core of my chest. It chases away the fire in my veins, and I feel more myself. When the shakes downgrade from convulsions to an occasional tremble, I unclench my jaw. “Help me up?”

  Upright, I steady my footing and catch my breath. Before I pull up my pants, I bend to look—

  “No, Fi.” Sloan lifts my chin with a gentle finger. “Look at that later. It’s raw and reeling from the book at the moment. Give my healing some time to work its magic.”

  I see the worry in his eyes. “It must be awful if you don’t want me to see it.”

  “Yer as beautiful inside and out as ye’ve always been. Isn’t she, Emmet?”

  I ease back and tug up my pants.

  “Always.” Emmet looks wrecked. “Are you okay? What the hell happened?”

  I hug my brother and hang on while I force a factory reset. “I’ll be fine. Where’s the book?”

  “I put it in here.” Dora points at what looks like a metal book bag. It’s a sealed lead box with a leather strap. “I’ve worked on perfecting this as a containment vessel since the day you left me at Carlisle Castle.”