by Linsey Hall
Chapter Twelve
“No question, then,” Roarke said. “That’s what the Ubilaz demon is after.”
“Yeah, he could have learned about it in the Underworld. Ubilaz demons are ancient. He may have even spoken to Merlin in the Underworld and learned what the charm can do.”
Roarke nodded. “He’s smart, and those are the most dangerous adversaries. It’s the perfect plan if you’re going to try to escape. He’d know I wouldn’t rest until I found him. But with Merlin’s charm, he can’t be forced to return to the Underworld.”
A nuclear explosion of an idea formed in my head, so powerful that I might have stumbled. I glanced at Roarke, hoping he hadn’t noticed my temporary insanity.
But this charm. Oh, my fated magic, Merlin’s charm. If I couldn’t convince Roarke to let me stay out of the Underworld, maybe I could force him to leave me be. If I had the charm, he couldn’t make me return.
I tried to shut the thought down, hard. If I had the charm, I’d be immortal. I didn’t want to be immortal.
Focus. I had to focus on finding the Ubilaz demon and winning my way free. It was the best way. The only way.
I met Roarke’s dark gaze. “If we can’t break the concealment charm, maybe we can find the demon at Arthur’s grave. That Pictish stone told us that Merlin used potion magic, but that may not be enough information.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” he said.
“But it will be hard.” The many myths in the book I’d just read swam in my head. “There are about a dozen places that claim to be the resting place of King Arthur. There are so many different stories. All the cultures who have stories about him—the Picts, the Britons, the Romanticists—they’re different stories. Like, as if the guy had lived a dozen different lives. Just like Dr. Garriso said.”
Roarke knelt near the stone. “Maybe there’s a clue here.”
I joined him, my gaze devouring the details on the carvings. I kept returning to the top scene, to the castle that Arthur rode toward on his noble steed. The ramparts on top of the tower were so distinct. Lower in the middle, higher at the corners with graduated stairs leading up. How many castles could look like that?
Something tugged at my memory. “I might have seen this castle before.”
“Where?”
“The book I was reading. I’m almost sure of it.” I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and breathed a sigh of relief to see that it still had some battery. Quickly, I snapped some pictures of the stones, then turned to Roarke. “Let’s go. I’ve got a good feeling about this.”
As it turned out, the castle was in my book. It was even referred to as “the defensive stronghold from which Arthur will defend England should the need arise.” Given what we already knew, that was pretty clear.
I showed the image to Roarke, holding up my cell phone at the same time. “Richmond Castle in Yorkshire. It looks identical to the castle on the carving.”
“Good enough for me.”
“We’re about five hours away by car,” I said.
“Taking the nearest Underpath entrances puts travel time at about two hours. It could be too long. He may already be there.”
“You could tear a hole in the ether, but then you’d be tapped out, right?”
“Close to it.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “If we rush off now and use the Underpath, I’d have a hard time defending you against so many demons with my powers diminished like that. I’d need at least a couple hours to regenerate.”
“I can defend myself pretty well, thanks.” Despite the fact that the Ubilaz demon had almost torn me apart, my pride didn’t like the idea of Roarke thinking he was all that stood between me and doom.
His gaze turned admiring. “I know you can.”
Okay, that my pride liked.
“I’ve got an idea,” I said. “Cass is a transporter. Since this is an emergency, it’s probably worth having her transport us to Richmond Castle.”
Roarke nodded. “Excellent.”
“Let me call.” I stepped aside and pressed my fingertips to my comms charm. “Cass? Nix?”
“Hey!” Cass said. “Gimme a minute.”
“She’s busy,” Nix said.
“No kidding.”
“Okay, I’m here,” Cass said.
“We think we found the demon. We want to go after him, but in the meantime, could you give Aidan some info about how the concealment charm was made? Maybe Aerdeca and Mordaca can get started with trying to break it, just in case I’m wrong about the demon’s next move.”
“Sure,” Cass said.
I explained what I’d seen on the Pictish stone, describing the cauldron and the rest of the image.
“Got it. I’ll pass it on.”
“And one more thing, Cass,” I said. “Think you could come pick us up and transport us to him?”
“Anytime, pal. Seriously, for you, I’m a taxi.”
I grinned, nostalgic for my lost power. I missed it, but losing it had been inevitable. And Cass would always have my back. I gave her directions, then cut the connection and turned to Roarke.
He was standing closer than I expected him to be with a wistful look on his face.
“They’ll be here in a few minutes,” I said.
“You’re lucky. To have family like that.”
“We’re not blood family in that sense.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re family.” His jaw was as square as ever, his expression just as stoic as if we were going up against the Ubilaz demon. But there was something in his eyes. Some kind of pain or damage.
I moved closer, drawn by sympathy or curiosity, I wasn’t sure. Probably both. Because I couldn’t possibly be seeing this right. The Warden of the Underworld was hard as a rock. He was iron. Steel.
But there was a strange expression in his eyes. I was so close now that I could see it clearly.
“You lost someone,” I said. “Someone close.”
His expression turned hard. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Oh, but he did. He’d lost someone, and the story wasn’t pretty. Because there was guilt there, too. Was it his brother?
“Does this have anything to do with why you always follow the rules?” I asked. “Because back at your place, you said you broke them once. But you never would again. Never, ever again.”
Something flashed on his face, but I couldn’t identify it. Something dark and sad.
“You can tell me, Roarke.”
His hands flashed up to grip my arms, tight but not painful. My heart leapt in my chest, thundering to the beat of the thousand drummers in my mind.
“Don’t pry.” Roarke’s voice was hoarse. “You may not like what you find.”
I shook my head. “You’re a good guy.”
“Not all of me. Not all of my decisions.” He pulled me closer, clearly desperate to shut me up.
But the pain in his gaze made me want to keep talking, keep poking, keep learning.
He tugged me toward him until our bodies almost touched, but I could feel the heat of him across the inches that separated us. I shivered despite the warmth. How could there be so much fear and confusion and desire in so little space?
Unable to help myself, I stood up on my tiptoes, tilting my head up to his. My gaze was riveted on his mouth. It was the most beautiful mouth I’d ever seen, and suddenly, more than anything, I wanted it pressed against my own.
Roarke’s dark gaze raced over my face, hot and fierce. He wanted me back. I knew he did. He had to.
The air vibrated around us.
I stiffened, stepping back from Roarke just as Cass appeared about twenty yards down the road.
She caught sight of us and yelled, “Hey!”
I didn’t meet Roarke’s eyes as I turned and hurried toward her. I could feel his gaze on my back as I walked, but I did my best to ignore it.
“Thanks for coming,” I said when I reached Cass. She was dressed in her usual battle wear. Brown leather jacket, jeans, a
nd her two favorite obsidian daggers strapped to her thighs. Her hair glinted dark red in the dim moonlight.
“No problem. You said we were headed to Richmond Castle in Yorkshire?”
“Yep. I think we may have found our demon.”
“Excellent. Aidan has Aerdeca and Mordaca on the concealment charm. It helps to know it was created with potion magic, but he’s not confident it’s enough.”
“It’s a start.”
“Yep.” Cass held out her hands. “Ready?”
Roarke and I reached for one of her hands. A moment later, the ether sucked us through space and spit us out at the edge of a river.
I stepped back from Cass, feeling so much better than I did when I traveled through Roarke’s Underpath. Transporting was infinitely easier.
“Thanks,” I said.
“About time you got here.” Nix’s voice sounded from behind.
I turned to see her standing on a big rock by the river, a compact bow and arrow strapped over her back. Like me, she normally fought with weapons instead of magic.
“Hey! What are you doing here?” I peered behind Nix to see Aidan approaching from a ways down the river.
“Did you really think we’d let you do this without us?” Nix said. “Now that you know where the demon is, we didn’t want to miss the party.”
“Though he did pick quite the location,” Roarke said from behind me. “There’s a lot of magic here.”
I stepped back from the river and examined our surroundings. We stood on the bank of a wide river. Behind me, a rocky hill rose up to support a massive castle wall. On both sides, the wall terminated at round towers, presumably turning away from the river at that point. Magic swelled from the castle, but not the kind I’d felt at Tintagel. This was something different.
“There’s a town surrounding the castle on the other side of the wall,” Roarke said.
“Why here, exactly?” Cass asked.
“The Ubilaz demon may be after a second charm that will keep him out of the Underworld. King Arthur wears the charm, and he’s been asleep for a thousand years under this castle, waiting to rise and defend England in their hour of need.”
“Cool.” Nix looked back at the castle wall. “That is seriously bad ass.”
I couldn’t help but agree. I didn’t want this fight to get all the way to Arthur’s tomb—but freaking King Arthur! I wouldn’t mind seeing him.
“Okay, we need to get into the castle,” I said.
“I don’t think we should go through the village,” Cass said. “Too many places for unknown threats to hide.”
Memories of the last time we’d tried to cut through a village to reach our destination flashed in my mind. I’d been changed into a Phantom. Or been triggered. Whatever.
“Yeah.” I looked up at the craggy castle wall. “Let’s climb the wall. There are enough handholds.”
“I could give you a lift,” Roarke said.
I glanced at him, my mind temporarily blanking out. Let Roarke carry me to the top of the wall, which meant holding me in those stupidly hot arms of his? It hadn’t been a great idea at the river in Scotland; it wasn’t a great idea here. Though he did seem pretty keen on it.
“Uh, no thanks,” I said. “I feel like a good climb.”
We’d scaled plenty of walls in our time in the treasure-hunting business. This little castle wall was nothing.
“Me too,” Nix said in solidarity.
“Well, I’m taking my ride,” Cass said.
Beside her, silver light swirled around Aidan. A moment later, a massive golden griffin stood in his place. His wings were as big as Roarke’s, but he was a lion/eagle/magic combo instead of a demon half blood. Scary as hell, though, with his massive claws and a beak that could crush a Buick.
Cass climbed onto his back, and he launched himself into the air.
“Better get started,” Nix said.
I didn’t hang around to watch Roarke shift. Nix and I scrambled to the top of the craggy hill. Dim moonlight lit the way, giving us just enough light to see. When we reached the base of the castle wall, I was relieved to see that the stone and mortar were a bit eroded by wind and rain. Enough so that I could easily get a handhold and start climbing.
Side by side, Nix and I made quick work of climbing up the wall. But I couldn’t help but worry about my magic triggering the history here and bringing back the dead. As soon as the thought crossed my mind, the magic in the castle started to vibrate. Like I’d jinxed it.
No!
Magic vibrated in the air, as if the castle were coming alive. We were only halfway to the top. Too far to fall. I glanced around frantically, but didn’t see the familiar blue glow extending out from me.
Maybe it wasn’t coming alive.
I looked up, heart pounding.
A face stared down at me, confusion in his gaze. He was clad in one of the historic Norman helmets favored by eleventh century warriors. The ones with the weird nose pieces.
“Shit!” I hissed. “Climb faster!”
The man shouted an alert. At least, that’s what I assumed he shouted. He didn’t speak English as I knew it.
There was a scuffling at the top of the wall, and a second later, a shout.
I looked up to see a black, shining liquid being poured from above. Steam rose off of it. My skin chilled in an instant.
Boiling oil.
And there was nowhere to go.
The burning black substance was almost upon me when a strong arm grabbed me around the middle and pulled me off the castle wall. My stomach plummeted as my grip was torn away, but a second later, my brain processed what had happened.
Roarke.
Oh, thank fates.
Below me, Aidan grabbed Nix in his claws, pulling her away from the wall before a second vat of oil could be poured on her.
I clung to Roarke as he carried me to the top of the castle wall and set me down. Six helmeted guards turned toward us and shouted. I drew my blade and charged them, plunging my sword deep into the chest of one who had only half the teeth he’d been born with.
At my side, Cass hurled a fireball at another guard. Its orange glow lit up the night. Roarke and Aidan each tore into one—Aidan with his beak, Roarke with his clawed hands. Blood sprayed in all directions. Nix sent an arrow into the eye of the fifth attacker while I sliced into the jugular of the final one.
When the bodies lay still around us, Nix leaned close to me and whispered, “Was that your weird magic?”
“No, I don’t think so.” Thank magic. I hadn’t seen the blue glow, at least.
One by one, the bodies faded to nothing. They hadn’t been real. Not truly.
“There are strong enchantments protecting Arthur’s resting place from intruders,” Nix said.
I had a feeling she’d have said that anyway, just to cover for me, but I thought she was right.
“Yeah,” Cass said. “Keep a wary eye out. There’s still a lot of magic here.”
She was right. In the quiet night, I could feel it humming in the air, shrouding the ancient castle like a protective cloak. Who knew what would trigger the protective spells, but I had a feeling we would run into a few more.
The top of the tower wall was wide—at least twenty feet across. I walked to the interior edge and inspected the castle grounds. A labyrinth of ruins surrounded a grassy courtyard—buildings and rooms built up against the exterior castle wall. It would have once been filled with people and smaller wooden buildings. No way was I going in there. Who knew what I could bring to life in an area that had once been so rich with activity. I’d stick near the wall.
On the far side of the courtyard was the main keep, the massive, tower-like building that had been so distinct on the Pictish stone. That looked promising. Perhaps it was under there.
Cass and Nix joined me as Roarke and Aidan spread out in either direction, no doubt looking for threats.
“Can you feel where Arthur is resting?” I asked.
After a moment, Cass said,
“No.”
“Dead as a doornail,” Nix said.
My dragon sense was dormant too. No matter how hard I tried, I got nothing. “I think the magic here is blocking me. Making it harder to find what it protects.”
“But he’s definitely here,” Nix said. “Right?”
“Yeah.” I studied the ruins below us. “Or something equally valuable, given all these protections.”
“If we can get closer, maybe we’ll sense him,” Cass said.
“Until then, we’ll search the old-fashioned way,” I said.
Roarke approached, his dark, silvery gray skin lending him some amazing camouflage in the night. His black gaze met mine. “Which way?”
I looked left and right, which both looked about the same. So I just picked, pointing right. “That way.”
We set off as a group, Roarke and me in the lead. He stuck close by my side, something I tried and failed to ignore. Though Aidan had changed back to his human form, Roarke remained a demon. It was damned hard to ignore a seven-foot-tall shirtless man with giant wings.
We kept our footsteps silent on the stone beneath us, a group moving in the shadows. The night was nearly moonless now that the clouds had crept over the sky. Rushing water sounded from below, and occasionally I thought I could hear distant shouts from within the castle.
The Ubilaz demon and his minions?
Maybe. Probably.
I picked up the pace, my gaze on the corner tower. There should be stairs within that would lead us down. From there, we could explore the ruins.
We entered the tower silently, Roarke leading the way. Fortunately, there were no guards within. I raised my borrowed lightstone ring to light the way, and we started down the stone, spiral staircase with Roarke in the lead. The treads were worn down at least half an inch, a testament to the thousands of people who had walked these steps over the last thousand years.
We were halfway down when a little hole in the wall caught my eye. It was right at the level of Roarke’s head.
A murder hole.
Shit!
I yanked one of his wings backward just as an arrow flew out of the hole and slammed into the wall on the other side. It narrowly missed piercing Roarke’s skull. My heart pounded, and my hand tingled where I had touched him.