by Baker, Katy
“Nor I ye,” he said gently.
She leaned down and kissed him softly on the lips. His hand came to rest lightly on the back of her neck, stopping her from moving away as he parted his lips to return the kiss. It was back already, that ache. That need for him.
And Ramsay felt it too. He grabbed her shoulders, pushed her onto her back, and rolled with her, his lips never once leaving hers. Jess’s eyes closed as Ramsay swept her away once more.
A LIGHT RAP ON THE door woke Ramsay early the next morning. Dawn was only just beginning to flood through the window and he blinked several times, wondering if he’d heard anything after all. He glanced to his side. Jess was asleep, lying on her front with one leg splayed out and the other tucked under her. A blanket covered her from the waist down but left the top half of her exposed. Her dark hair spilled over the creamy skin of her back and her breathing was deep and even.
He reached out and gently ran his hand over the curve of her shoulder, brushing back her hair. Heat flared in his groin as he remembered what they’d done last night. All night. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d taken her but it would never be enough. Even now, passion began to stir again. She was his. She loved him. He still struggled to believe it.
His hand moved lower, slipping beneath the blanket that covered her...
The knock came again, more insistent this time.
With an annoyed growl, Ramsay rose from the bed, wrapped a blanket around his waist, and crossed to the door. Pulling it open a crack, he glared out at the man standing on the other side. To his surprise, it wasn’t a MacSual servant but one of Ross’s warriors.
“Aye? What is it?”
“Ross has called an urgent meeting. He requests yer presence.”
“At this god-forsaken hour?”
“Aye. Scouts have returned. There’s news.”
Ramsay gave a tight nod. “I’ll be there in a moment.”
He shut the door and hurriedly began to dress.
Jess stirred and opened her eyes. “Ramsay?” she said in a voice muzzy with sleep. “What’s wrong?”
He leaned over and kissed her. “Go back to sleep. I have to go speak to Ross. A scout has brought news.”
She bolted upright. “News? Of Artair and MacGregor?”
“I assume so.”
She flung back the covers. “Then I’m coming with you.”
Ramsay knew better than to argue. He couldn’t help watching her as she hurried—naked—around the room, picking up her clothes where they’d been hastily tossed to the floor.
“Are you just going to stare at me?” she said, looking at him with a frown. “Or are you going to pass me my shoes?”
He crossed his arms and grinned. “Nay, I’m just going to stare at you.”
“Lout.”
He grinned, grabbed her, and pulled her close. She melted against him as he kissed her. Fire flared in his groin and his desire for her sent all thoughts of scouts and news and wars spinning right out of his head.
But Jess broke the kiss. “Come on. They’ll be waiting for us.”
They hurriedly dressed and made their way down to the hall. It wasn’t as grand as the Great Hall in Dun Ringill where Ramsay’s father conducted his business but it was well-appointed and cozy with a fire burning in the hearth to chase away the early morning chill. Ross, his commanders, and Laird MacSual were waiting for them. A travel-stained man, obviously the scout, was seated by the fire, finishing a flagon of ale.
Ross looked up as he and Jess entered the hall. He glanced between Ramsay and Jess and a small, knowing smile flitted across his face as he put the pieces together. Jess blushed furiously, turning a delightful shade of pink, but Ramsay grinned fiercely. Let them all know what had happened between him and Jess. Lord above, he wanted to shout to the whole world that she was his.
Jess went to sit with her grandfather—her grandfather! —who greeted her with a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek, whilst Ramsay took his place to Ross’s left. Blair, who still looked half asleep, lounged on Ross’s right.
Ross gazed round at them all. “We’re all here,” he said to the scout. “Make yer report.”
The man swallowed the last of his ale, put down his cup, and rose to his feet. He gave a respectful nod before beginning his account.
“I rode towards Dun Halas as instructed, my lord,” he began. “But I couldnae get near it. The MacGregor army blocked the way. They’re camped eight miles west of here, straddling the crossroads that lead to Arndale. I kept watch all night to see where they were going and what they intended. At first light this morning they began breaking camp and traveling in this direction. I was hard pressed to keep ahead of their outriders. They’re coming here, my lord. They’ll skirt the forest to the north and be here by sundown.”
Blair barked a laugh. “The bastard has balls, I’ll give him that!”
“He’s left Dun Halas unprotected?” Ross asked. “Why would he do that? He must know we’d have scouts watching his forces.”
“Dun Halas is all but impregnable,” Ramsay answered. “He doesnae need to leave his forces to guard it. By moving against us he can choose the place of battle—one to his advantage.”
“I don’t understand,” Jess said suddenly. “Why would he move now? We all know his real plan is to open the Fae portal. The MacGregor army is his way of keeping us away from the portal and making sure it doesn’t fall into our hands. But the ritual can’t be done until the dark of the moon. That’s days away still. Why would he risk a battle when he’s not yet ready to open the portal?”
“Benneit MacGregor was ever the impatient one,” Laird MacSual rumbled. “Mayhap he didnae wish to wait.”
“No,” Jess answered, shaking her head. “It’s more than that, I’m sure. We clearly heard Artair say that they had to wait.” Her head came up suddenly. She met Ramsay’s gaze, and the color drained from her face.
“What?” Ramsay asked. “What is it?”
She didn’t answer. With a cry, she bolted from the room. He took off after her and realized she was heading to the observatory.
“Jess, wait!”
“I think we’ve made a mistake!” she called over her shoulder.
He followed as she ran up the steps and burst into the room at the top. She hurried over to the desk where the keystone sat along with an open book and several pieces of parchment. She unrolled one of these and stared at it, wide-eyed, eyes scanning columns that held dates along with diagrams of the moon’s phases.
“The dark of the moon,” she murmured to herself. “That’s what this is all about—the phases of the moon!” She looked up at him but she’d lost him. He stared at her blankly. When her mind worked like this, it was too fast for him.
“Wait a minute!” she cried. “What if the numbers don’t mean anything by themselves? What if I’ve been looking at this all wrong? What if it’s a sequence?”
She grabbed a piece of parchment that was covered with numbers in Jess’s handwriting and glanced from it to the keystone and back again several times. She mumbled under her breath, as though working things out. “It starts with four. Which is this symbol here.” She touched one of the markings on the keystone. “Then a nine which is this one.” She touched another one of the symbols. Ramsay had no idea what she was doing, but he didn’t interrupt her. Her face was a picture of concentration as she checked the numbers on the parchment then touched the symbols in sequence, one after another.
Suddenly there was a click, and the keystone broke into four oddly shaped pieces. Ramsay gasped and took a step closer. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say the shapes of those pieces corresponded to the phases of the moon.
Jess looked up at him. She was pale but there was a tiny triumphant spark in her eyes. “We shouldn’t have taken Artair Campbell at his word. The MacGregor army has moved in order to stop us interrupting the ritual. The dark of the moon isn’t in four days’ time. Artair was lying. It starts tonight. That’s when Artair will open the portal
. But I know how to stop him.”
Chapter 15
JESS CLUNG ONTO THE saddle horn and did her best to calm the terror that kept twisting her stomach, threatening to send her into a panic. But they were moving so slowly! They had to get to the portal! Didn’t they realize that they were running out of time!
But armies, she’d learned, moved exceedingly slowly. She and Ramsay rode at the front with Ross, Blair and her grandfather. Behind them, undulating across the landscape like a snake, was the combined might of Ross’s forces and those of her grandfather.
There were many warriors, too many to count, but even so, to Jess’s eyes they did not seem a match for the numbers she’d seen mustering at Dun Halas.
She looked at Ramsay and then over to her grandfather. Both men rode with grim expressions on their faces but they seemed determined rather than frightened. The same couldn’t be said for Jess. In the most unexpected of places, she’d found what she’d been searching for ever since her grandmother had died and now she might lose it all.
Her fingers curled into fists, gripping the saddle horn so tightly her knuckles turned white. No, she thought. I won’t lose Ramsay. I won’t lose my grandfather. I won’t lose either of them, dammit! She patted her pocket where both the keystone and Grandma Rosa’s journal were tucked.
“Jess,” Ramsay said softly behind her. “If ye dinna ease up I reckon ye will gouge a hole in the saddle.”
She glanced at him and forced her fingers to relax. “Sorry. I’m just a little nervous.”
“Aye. Me too.”
With a sigh she leaned back against him, the hard solidity of his chest giving her some comfort. Were Sarah, Mary, Tansy and the other women she’d met in the MacGregor camp feeling the same way that she was? They had followed their men to war and now must be waiting at Dun Halas, wondering if their men would ever return to them. Sure, they were on opposing sides but Jess knew that the women—and the MacGregor warriors—were not the enemy. They were just unfortunate enough to be caught up in events beyond their control. She knew that Artair Campbell and Benneit MacGregor’s ambition was the real enemy but good, honest men would die as a result.
They skirted the edge of the vast woodland through which she and Ramsay had ridden to find Ross and found themselves peering out over the empty landscape that led to Dun Halas. Except now it wasn’t empty. Arrayed across a series of low hills in the distance Jess spotted a dark stain: MacGregor’s army.
They reined in and dismounted. Her grandfather pulled out a spy-glass and peered into it before passing it to Ross.
“They’ve taken the high ground,” Ross observed. “Which is exactly what I would have done.”
Blair shifted in his saddle and his horse danced nervously. Ramsay’s impetuous cousin had not been happy with the role assigned to him in the coming struggle and he frowned as he gazed down over the scene.
“Those hills willnae give the advantage they think,” he said. “We can outflank them, use the eastern pass to go around the hills, and attack from the rear.”
“He’s chosen this spot for a reason,” Ramsay said quietly. “As ye said, only the eastern pass remains open and that would take us even further away from the arch. That is what they are here to protect.”
This morning the war council had discussed all eventualities until each of them could talk no more. They’d been able to devise only one way to get to the arch without risking them getting killed in a battle. It was a crazy, risky plan, but Jess knew there was no other way. The very thought of it made nerves flutter in her stomach.
Ross looked at Ramsay, Jess and Blair in turn. “Ye know what ye must do.”
“Aye,” Ramsay replied. “We know.”
Her grandfather gestured to one of his men who opened a saddle bag and pulled out several large pieces of material which he carried over and handed out to Jess, Ramsay, Blair, and the small contingent of hand-picked MacAuley warriors who were to accompany them. Jess took hers and shook it out. It was a plaid.
“These are MacGregor’s colors,” her grandfather said. “They may help ye to pass through their lines.”
Ramsay nodded and swung it around his shoulders. “My thanks.”
Laird MacSual approached Jess. He laid his hands on her shoulders and sighed. “I have only just found ye, granddaughter,” he said. “I wouldnae lose ye so soon. Ye will survive this battle, do ye hear? Ye will survive and come back to me so ye can spend many more evenings explaining to me these scientific theories of yers. That’s an order. Understood?”
Jess smiled, even though her heart ached. “Understood, sir.”
He pulled her into a tight embrace then stepped back, blinking away sudden tears. Ramsay approached Ross. When they were close like this, it was difficult to tell them apart although Jess would never mistake Ramsay for anyone else. The two brothers faced each other. Neither spoke. Then Ross shook his head.
“I’ve said goodbye to ye too many times,” he said in a voice rough with emotion. “I dinna wish to say it again.”
“Then dinna,” Ramsay replied. “Say instead until we meet again.”
Ross nodded. “Aye. That will do. Until we meet again then, brother. And when we do I want yer promise that ye will come to Dun Ringill with me so ye can meet yer niece and nephew.”
“I promise.”
The two men embraced then Ramsay turned to look at the company he’d picked out. He nodded.
“Let’s go.”
With one last glance back at Ross and Laird MacSual, they set out.
RAMSAY HATED TO LEAVE like this. He hated abandoning his brother, Laird MacSual, and all the men who would be fighting for their lives later today. But, as he and his companions hurried down the hill, skirting through a copse of stringy trees to keep hidden, he knew there was no choice.
The real battle lay ahead with Artair Campbell and his unspeakable plan to open the door to the Unseelie Court. He only hoped the plan Jess had devised would work and that his small party of fighters could get through the enemy lines to enable her to enact it.
There were only ten of them. Himself, Jess, Blair, Maggie and six of Blair’s men, hand-picked for their stealth and steadfastness. Maggie, who’d spent much time scouting Laird MacSual’s lands and had been briefed by the laird before they left, took the lead, slipping through the trees as silently as a cat.
Nobody spoke and Blair’s men fanned out, on the lookout for any enemy scouts that might have come this way. Ramsay kept his eyes peeled and his senses alert. He heard nothing but the natural sounds of a woodland: the chirp of birds, the rustling of squirrels in the branches, the trickle of water nearby. Nevertheless, his tension grew with each mile they traveled until he became as taught as a bowstring. What was Ross doing now? Would MacGregor’s forces parley or had the fighting already begun?
They traveled in cautious silence for a couple of hours. The sun sank lower in the sky, sending bars of light through the trees that made Ramsay squint. The sun would soon be setting. They didn’t have much time.
Up ahead, Maggie paused by a rocky outcrop that reared up from the forest floor. Around the outcrop the trees were little more than saplings, indicating that this area had once been cleared but the wild had gradually been allowed to creep back in. There was a man-sized hole in the outcrop like a door which had been covered over with wooden boards.
“Is that it?” Ramsay asked.
“Aye,” Maggie replied. “According to Laird MacSual’s map this is the place.”
Ramsay approached the outcrop, Jess and Blair only a step behind. He crouched by the rock face and held his hand up to the boards. A faint draft coming through the gaps in the planks raised the hairs on the back of his arm.
“Get the boards off.”
One of the men came forward with a pry bar. He set the hooked end against the boards and began prising them off, revealing an opening that was high and wide enough to allow three men or a small wagon to pass into its gaping maw.
“Bring torches.”
&nbs
p; One of the men handed him a burning torch and Ramsay edged cautiously into the opening and thrust out the torch. In the flickering light he saw a small vestibule area with a ladder in the center descending a smooth shaft. This might once have been one of MacSual’s most prosperous mines but now it was a place of darkness and shadow.
Behind him, the men muttered uneasily. “They reckon MacSual closed the mine because it’s haunted,” someone said.
“Dinna be daft,” Blair scoffed. “The mine was closed because they’d gotten all they could from it.”
“Come on,” Ramsay said, glancing at the sky where the sun was beginning to set. “We have to hurry.”
One by one, they filed into the vestibule. Discarded picks and hammers still lay about, rusted with age, and several wooden buckets lay smashed in one corner. Ramsay approached the ladder and leaned over the shaft, staring down. It was made of metal rungs set into the shaft’s side and seemed sturdy enough. Nevertheless, he insisted they go down one at a time with a safety rope attached.
Blair led the way, shimmying down the ladder with a torch clutched in one hand. When he reached the bottom, he tugged on the rope to indicate it was safe and the others followed until only he and Jess remained at the top. Jess looked at Ramsay with wide, fearful eyes.
“You’re sure there’s no other way?” she asked in a small voice.
“If there was, I would take it.” He reached out and gripped her hand. “I will keep ye safe.”
She curled her fingers around his. “I know you will.” She looked at the shaft and swallowed thickly. “Well, here goes nothing.”
She lowered herself over the edge and began climbing down rung by rung. She was soon out of sight, only the bobbing light of her torch visible. When he felt the tug on the rope Ramsay lowered himself over the edge and followed her. Inch by inch, he descended into the darkness of the abandoned mine.
THIS WAS A BAD IDEA. A really, really, bad idea. How the hell had she let herself be talked into it? As Jess followed the others through the abandoned tunnels of the mine workings, Jess wished fervently that she was somewhere else. Anywhere else. Hell, she’d rather be facing down Artair Campbell again than be traipsing through this eerie, oppressive darkness that was so thick it seemed to reach out and touch her.