“I feel certain you’ll see more of yer new sister before she takes her leave of us.”
Startled, Dani jumped when Torquil spoke from directly behind her.
With what she hoped was a courteous dip of her head, she edged away from him and hurried down the hallway to the stairs, followed by Elesyria and their guards.
Torquil’s assurance to his sister still ringing in her ears only served to confirm her opinion of what he had planned for tomorrow.
But for now, she needed to clear her mind. She and her Faerie had some serious planning of their own to do.
Thirty-four
GRAB THE ROPE and tie it round you.”
Eyes squinted against the light pouring in through the opening above him, Malcolm grabbed for the line that dangled over his head.
“But no around yer throat. At least no yet,” one of his captors called down to the amusement of his fellow guard.
They wouldn’t be amused for long. Not once he got close enough to get his hands on them. He’d see to that.
He fitted the rope around his chest, looping it into a heavy knot he could support above the edge of the opening once they hauled him up.
As soon as the knot on his chest cleared the level of the opening, he struck.
The guards, braced to lift his weight, were left off-balance when his weight was no longer pulling against them. Malcolm grabbed the leg of the man nearest him and heaved him forward, pitching him headfirst, screaming, into the hole that had been his home for days.
The second fell, landing hard on his back, his feet kicking against the slick stone as he tried to scramble away.
Intent on the escaping guard, Malcolm hoisted himself up, transferring his weight to one knee in preparation to spring forward.
A move forestalled by the chill of cold metal pressed against the back of his neck.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk.”
He had no need to turn to verify who was behind him.
“Another move and my man takes yer head,” Torquil warned. “The Alfodr may have protected you from a sword to the heart, but I doubt even his mark upon yer chest will spare you from such as that.”
Malcolm doubted it as well.
“Allow him to stand, Ulfr,” Torquil ordered. “And walk him to the wall. You, fool, get up from the floor and put the prisoner in chains.”
Once again the irons were fastened around Malcolm’s wrists and his arms jerked above his head, stretching him to the limits of his height to ward off the pain.
“What now, brother?” Malcolm had grown tired of the waiting.
“An excellent question. One I’ve put many hours of thought into.” Torquil approached, his attention on the bauble he twisted around his finger. “My first thought was simply to abandon you to the oubliette.”
“And why didn’t you?”
“In light of new events, it seemed somehow lacking in creativity.”
Again Torquil twisted the trinket on his finger, a ring which was obviously too small for him. It barely fit past the first joint on his finger.
Malcolm stared at the jewel, a chill settling over his body even as recognition dawned.
Dani’s ring.
“Where did you get that?” he asked, straining against the chains to get a better look as Torquil stepped away.
“This?” he asked innocently, holding his hand up to display the adornment. “Ah, this came courtesy of the new event which set me to reevaluating all my plans for you.”
“What have you done with her?” Malcolm demanded. “If you’ve harmed her . . .” He would make Torquil pay. If it took until the fires of Asgard burned out, he would make Torquil pay.
“Yer wife is well. For the moment.” Torquil rested one leg against a table near the wall. “As long as you behave yerself.”
His wife? Did Torquil think to test him? Or was it possible that Torquil lied about Dani being here? Obviously his brother didn’t know as much about her as he pretended. But he did hold her ring, and Dani had made quite clear the value she placed on the jewel. She would not have allowed it out of her possession willingly without good reason. Whatever trickery she was about, he had no intention of exposing her story.
“What would you have of me?”
“Yer pledge of fealty to me, to begin with. To me, above all others, as yer rightful lord.”
Malcolm’s teeth felt as if they might crack from the pressure he exerted on them. His honor or the woman who meant more to him than life itself?
“You’ll have it. Though I find myself unable to take to my knee at the moment to give the pledge you seek.”
“By Odin’s eye,” Torquil muttered, pushing off the table to pace. “So it’s true. She is that important to you. All of Asgard has smiled on me this day.”
The expression on his brother’s face did not bode well.
“Release me and I will do as you ask. I’ll pledge the House of MacGahan to yer service.”
Torquil threw back his head and laughed. Laughed until he wrapped his arms around his midsection and leaned one shoulder against the wall.
“And what would be the fun in that?”
Malcolm stared, helpless to understand what he needed to offer to ensure Dani’s safety.
“I see from yer face, great Warrior of Odin, you begin to recognize what I want.”
His brother misread him. It wasn’t understanding that radiated from him, but desperation. Pure, soul-killing desperation to save Dani.
“Tell me, Torquil. No games. Tell me what you want me to do.”
“I want you to suffer!” the other man hissed, eyes flashing, spittle flying from his mouth. “I want yer misery to repay the disgrace my father brought upon our bloodline the day yer whore of a mother pushed you out to breathe yer first.”
At last Malcolm understood. It was not within his power to appease this madman.
“I needed only to ascertain how important the woman was to you.” Torquil resumed his pacing, his eyes alight with his schemes. “So many options to consider. Toss her into the oubliette to die with you? You would be miserable, but I wouldn’t really be able to enjoy your misery firsthand. I could bring her here, to chain her to this table and slowly disembowel her while you watch.”
A light-headed nausea settled over Malcolm as he felt the blood drain from his face. Torquil was no mere madman, but a full-fledged monster.
“And yet, that too, would be over so quickly. A matter of hours at best.” Torquil shook his head, twisting the ring as he paced. “No, I want yer suffering to go on. Days, perhaps weeks or months before I allow you to escape yer pain by sending you to the oblivion of Niflheim.”
“You may have yer revenge on me, but if you harm Danielle, the MacGahan will never be yers. Patrick will see to it for me.”
It was a desperate card to play, but the only one he seemed to have left.
“I had considered that problem, but the arrival of yer lady here at Tordenet Castle has changed all that. And as for Patrick, I’ll deal with him in his own time, just as I deal with you now.”
Malcolm shook his head, denial the only defense left him.
“It was meeting yer dead wife’s mother what gave me the idea.” Torquil chuckled, as if to himself. “In truth, I considered tossing her into the oubliette with you, but I’m no sure even you deserve to be held captive with that harpy.”
Elesyria was here! Of course, it made sense. Dani wouldn’t have traveled without another woman’s company. But the Elf! And, more important yet, Torquil didn’t recognize what creature he confronted.
Malcolm’s mind raced as he desperately sought to understand the women’s plan.
“When the woman spoke of your having become laird of the MacGahan through yer marriage to her daughter, I realized I had the means to accomplish both my goals sitting at my table. I will wed Danielle and through that marriage, the MacGahan will be mine.”
He could foul Torquil’s plan by revealing that he and Dani weren’t husband and wife, but he couldn’t be sure that t
he truth might not bring down his brother’s wrath upon her even more quickly.
“Am I not a hindrance to yer plan? You claim yer desire to keep me alive so that you might take yer pleasure in my suffering, but so long as I live, Danielle is not free to wed another.”
Torquil grinned, waving his hand in the air as if brushing away a summer midge.
“There’s the beauty! No one needs to know you live. As far as all are concerned, yer lady will be a widow and I shall wed my poor, bereaved sister-in-law, laying claim to all that is hers. All that was yers. And you? You shall live out yer days with the knowledge that each night I take yer woman to my bed and I have her in as many ways as I can imagine.”
“She’ll never agree to take you as husband, let alone to share yer bed!”
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
“You mistake me if you think I need her agreement. In fact, I rather believe her resistance would be more enjoyable. Perhaps I shall even arrange to have you as audience for the consummation of our marriage.”
“You bastard!” Again Malcolm strained at the chains that bound him.
“Ah, but that would be you, Malcolm, not I. Our father wed my mother legitimately, in the ways of our people. Yer mother was but a dalliance, a handfasting mistake he refused to recant.” Torquil turned his back and headed for the door, stopping for one more jab before he left. “For now I’ll leave you to yer thoughts. For me, I go to arrange for yer death, or, perhaps I should say, to arrange to convince yer lady of yer death.”
Malcolm watched the madman’s departure helplessly. There was nothing he could do. Once again, he had failed to protect the women whose safety was his responsibility. Whatever happened to Dani and Elesyria would be as blood on his hands, on his conscience, even as Isabella’s death had been.
His only hope lay in the women themselves. For now he would have to trust that Dani and the Elf had a plan of their own.
Thirty-five
ALL I CAN say is, we better come up with something at least resembling a plan, and pretty damn soon, too, or we’re going to end up down there, dangling and kicking at the end of a rope like . . .”
Dani’s throat clogged with the gruesome memory of what she’d seen in the courtyard this morning, robbing her of her ability to speak. Never in her life had she seen anything so horrific. And the very thought of carrying the news of her friends’ deaths back to their families at Castle MacGahan made her want nothing more than to curl into a tight little ball and weep.
“How could he sit there smiling at us like that when he knew something so evil was happening just outside? He’s not even human,” she moaned, wrapping her arms around her stomach as she sat on the floor in front of the hearth.
“Torquil is not Mortal,” Elesyria agreed, kneeling down beside her. “At least not entirely.”
“Are you trying to tell me that because he’s descended from Odin he’s some kind of demigod?”
Which would make total sense considering how arrogantly evil he was. The monster belonged in a horror story.
“Not exactly. He’s too many generations removed for that to be the case.” Elesyria frowned as if she didn’t really understand it herself. “Still, the power of Ancient Magic seethes through these halls. Power I can only assume he wields.”
“So basically we’re up shit creek and there’s nothing you can do because he has you out-magicked.”
“Were he to find himself in Wyddecol, he would be equally cut off from his power,” the Faerie grumbled. “I’m conserving my strength. I can’t say whether it will be enough to make a difference when the time comes, but I will do what I can. I want you to know that.”
Elesyria sat down next to her, putting one arm around Dani’s shoulders as they both leaned back against the carved stones framing the massive fireplace.
“I’m not doubting you, you know. Or accusing you.” Though Dani had done her best not to admit how frightened she felt, there didn’t seem to be a reason any longer to try to hide it. “It’s just that I feel so—ouch!”
She recoiled from the stones behind her, holding a hand to her head.
“What’s wrong?” Elesyria scowled first at her and then at the stones behind her with obvious concern.
“I have no idea.”
Dani rubbed the spot on her head that felt as if someone had pulled hairs from her scalp, her movement halting when she spotted three long golden hairs hanging from the stone she’d leaned against.
“What the hell? What is this?” She reached out to the stone, rubbing her hand over its face to collect the strands of hair.
“Runic writing of some sort,” Elesyria answered, mistaking Dani’s question. “I’m not very good with runes. I haven’t had a need to deal with them since I was a child.”
“Not the carving,” Dani huffed. “That thing pulled hair out of my head. Look.”
She held the proof between her fingers, but Elesyria’s attention was fully captured by the carving she traced with her forefinger.
“Three carvings, one on either side of the fire pit and one above.” She rose to her feet and moved backward, eyes fixed on the stones. “The one on the right is wunjo. Joy. My mother had such a carving in our home.”
“And the one that ripped my hair out?”
“Don’t be silly. Likely you caught the hair upon it when you moved.” Elesyria approached, leaning down to run her finger over the lines. “I remember the symbol. Let me think.”
“Looks like a stick-figure man with his arms raised.” Dani rubbed her fingers together, letting the hairs fall to the stones beside her. “Like he’s getting ready to pull hair.”
“Protection!” Elesyria beamed. “Algiz. I knew I’d remember it.”
“And the one at the very top?” Dani rose onto her knees, her hands bracing her weight against the rune that had pulled her hair. “Looks like a letter F to—whoa!”
The stone she leaned against moved and she shot backward, stumbling to her feet.
“Okay. No way that was my imagination. Did you see it move?”
The stone shifted again, sending a fine powder poofing into the air just before the entire left column of stones swung away in one piece, like a door, to reveal Christiana standing inside the opening.
“I think I have a way to get you out. We must hurry, though,” she encouraged as she stepped out into the room. “You’ll need to come with me.”
“How did you . . .” Dani’s words died off as she peered into the dark passageway.
“My father loved the idea of passageways. He had them built all over the castle. No one knows where they all are. No!” Christiana shook her head in Elesryia’s direction to stop the Faerie from gathering her belongings. “You can take nothing. I’m sorry, but the guards must believe yer only to accompany me on my errand to trade with Orabilis. If they see yer belongings, they’ll grow suspicious.”
“I’ve no need for any this,” Elesyria responded, dropping her bundle on the floor and heading for the opening.
Had both women lost what little good sense they had?
“How’s this supposed to help us escape? I heard your brother say this morning that he was sending guards along with you. And even if we could manage to get away from the guards, I’m not leaving here without Malcolm.”
Dani had come here to take him from this place and that was what she meant to do. Even if she couldn’t say how, exactly, at the moment.
“We’ll deal with the guards,” Christiana assured. “And as for Malcolm—”
“Once we’re clear of this place, I can deal with whatever guards accompany us,” Elesyria interrupted, her head poked inside the tunnel.
“I told you, I’m not leaving here without—” Dani began again.
“I’ve every intention of seeing my brother set free. Trust me.” Christiana took her hand and pulled her into the tunnel behind her. “Be as quiet as possible and follow close. There are twists and turns that would make it easy to lose yer way and we’ve no the time t
o go on a hunt for you.”
The space behind the stones was just large enough for the three of them to huddle in together, funneling in to a narrow ribbon of black.
Christiana pulled on a long chain and the stone door slowly slid shut, leaving them in complete and utter darkness. With a touch to Dani’s shoulder she indicated they were ready to move.
“How do you know where we’re going in here?”
“Those were my mother’s rooms. I’ve played in these tunnels from the time I was old enough to walk. Again, I must ask you trust me.”
Silently, they hurried along. Dani’s sense of direction was completely mangled after the first few minutes of incline leading to narrow stairs that spiraled down, followed by more incline and more stairs.
In the absence of light, blood pounded in her ears as if they did double duty trying to make up for her inability to see. By the time she bumped into the back of a paused Christiana, her legs had begun to tremble from the exertion of all the steps.
Or maybe it was simply nerves.
Ahead of her, metal scraped against stone and the wall in front of her shifted open. Not the wide, gaping doorway she’d seen in her bedchamber but a narrow space, not much bigger than her body’s width. The opening led into a corridor, about twice the width of the tunnel they’d just traversed, and though the wavering light appeared to come only from torches, it seemed bright after so long in absolute black.
“Go,” Christiana whispered with a gentle nudge to Dani’s back. “Wait outside the door at the end of the passageway.”
Dani slipped into the corridor, her eyes fixed on the prize, a small wooden door just ahead.
A large, callused hand clamped over her mouth was her only warning that she wasn’t alone in the hallway.
Panic flooded her system with a burst of adrenaline and she fought the man’s hold, unable to break free but doing some good damage with her nails and her feet, even as she twisted in his grasp to see her captor.
Rauf!
Dermid’s groomsman held her braced against his chest, his face contorted in pain even as he tightened his hold. Nothing in sight but two large wooden buckets on the floor in front of her. She struggled to bend, stretching out her leg to catch one of the pails with her toe. If only she could get her hands on one of them, she might be able to use it as a weapon.
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