The Cursing Stones

by Sonya Bateman

  It took everything she had not to burst into tears. Not only from sheer concern, but the weight of guilt over how angry she’d been when she came here, how ready she was to fight with her father. She’d never felt worse. “All right,” she finally said. “I’m calm.”

  While Poppy started washing the blood away, Lachlan used his good arm to pull a chair out. “Take a seat, girl, before ye faint.”

  She crushed the quick retort that rose to her lips and hauled herself into the chair. Truth be told, she was feeling a bit light-headed. “Da’, I’m sorry—”

  “No. Ye’ll not be the one apologizing tonight.” He reached out and squeezed her hand, wincing with the motion. “I should’ve told ye about this when I called. It wasn’t right, me tellin’ ye to come with no reason given,” he said. “And … that’s not all I’m sorry for.”

  The first apology was shocking enough, but the second filled her with nameless dread. “You saw her, didn’t you?” she whispered. “Glynis. She put that mark on you.”

  “Aye.” He closed his eyes, hissing as Poppy’s trembling hands brushed the wound with the cloth. “It’s fine, Ewan,” he said without looking.

  Rain swallowed hard. “Did you talk to her?”

  “I did.” When her father’s eyes opened, they were troubled. Pained. “Ye’re right, Rhiannon. She’s been cursed. Controlled by another. She’s got a familiar under her thrall too, a great white wolf that responds to the mark.”

  So, that was how Cleary died. “And the cut?” she said.

  “Did that m’self.” He gave a faint grin. “Figured if I broke the mark, the beast’d back down. It did, for a time.” His eyes closed again, and he murmured, “Wouldn’t have cut so deep, if I’d known how bloody much it’d hurt.”

  Rain surprised herself by laughing. “You didn’t know cutting yourself with a knife would hurt?”

  “Bit more than drawing a spot for spells.” He looked at her. “We need to find her,” he said. “Kill the familiar, and stop her. Won’t be easy, though. The one who controls her, she’s powerful. Stronger than all of us.”

  Though she almost didn’t want to ask, she said, “Who’s controlling her?”

  “I’ve no idea,” Lachlan admitted softly. “But she must be stopped.”

  Rain gave a reluctant nod. “How?”

  “Not sure yet. But we’ll find a way.”

  “How long will it take?”

  “A day or two, maybe.”

  “All right.” Rain took his hand and squeezed. “We’ll do it together.”

  He gave a bare nod and looked off into the distance. She had a feeling there was still something he wasn’t telling her, but she’d let it slide for now.

  This time, she had a secret plan of her own.

  Chapter 56

  Parthas, Eastern Shore – The Moors

  She’d lied to her father again, but this time he didn’t seem to pick up on it. With more than a small measure of guilt, she realized he was in too much pain to tell. But at least she’d lied for a good cause.

  She told him she was going to the castle.

  It was nearing midnight when she drove out onto the moors, carrying the added guilt of calling Kieran again. She only hoped he was all right, that those things had stopped attacking him. And that he’d be willing to help her again.

  Somehow, she was determined to help him in return — and not just by keeping his secrets.

  This time when she called his name, he was there almost before she’d finished speaking it. Still bloody and bruised, worse than before, but on his feet. Smiling that wicked grin. “Something told me you’d be back tonight,” he said. “You’ve found her, then?”

  “More or less,” she said on a shaking breath. “You look awful. How are you not…”

  “Dead?” His grin darkened for an instant. “I’ve told you, I can’t die. And unfortunately, another thing I can’t do is tell you what you want to know.”

  She gave a slight frown. “How do you know what I want?”

  “You’ve come for the rest of it. The other name on the stone.” He made a soft sound and looked away. “Forgive me, aillidh, but I’m unable to speak it.”

  At once she remembered what he said the first time he’d introduced himself as Kieran. My name is lost to my tongue. Cold settled at the base of her spine, and she half-whispered, “Is it you?”

  He laughed without humor. “I may be a monster, but I’d not bother murdering a load of villagers,” he said. “No, the name is not mine. And yet I cannot speak it … just as your true name has been taken from me.”

  His voice faltered as he spoke, and her heart ached with that fathomless emotion. “Who did this to you?” she rasped.

  “Never you mind that.” At once he was cold, closed off again. “As for your problem at hand, you’ve no need of the other name to stop the one who was Glynis.”

  That failed to comfort her. “All right. How do we stop her?” she said, dreading the answer.

  “With the very stone you showed me,” he said. “Place a curse of reversal on the stone, and then force her to swallow it.”

  “And what happens then?”

  Sorrow infused his features. “She’ll die.”

  “No,” she blurted. “There has to be another way. I can’t kill Glynis. I won’t.”

  “Aillidh … you must.” He reached for her, stopped just short of taking her hand. “She is draiocht’daor, enslaved by magic,” he said. “The curse contains her consciousness. Once it’s broken, no matter how that happens, there’ll be nothing left. Her body is no longer hers.”

  Rain closed her eyes against threatening tears, silently vowing to find out who’d done this to her friend — and end them. Finally, she looked at Kieran. “Thank you,” she said. “I only have one more question.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “And that would be…?”

  “How do we get you out of wherever you are, and what can I do to help?”

  His smile was painfully sad. “That was two questions,” he said.

  “And you didn’t answer either of them.”

  “Aye, I didn’t.” He stared at the ground, the lines of his body stiffened as though he expected a blow. “There is a way you can help,” he said, the words dragging reluctantly from him. “But…”

  “But nothing. If there’s anything I can do, I’m doing it.”

  “Don’t say that.” He looked up with blazing eyes. “You shouldn’t help me, Rain,” he said. “I’m not what you think.”

  Her heart broke all over again at the anguish in his voice. “I think you’re the man who saved my life,” she said softly. “Am I wrong about that?”

  “Yes,” he nearly snarled. “I’ve told you, that was entirely self-serving.”

  She tried to take his transparent-but-solid hand. He pulled away. “Please,” she said. “I want to get you out of there. Let me help you.”

  He didn’t say anything for a long time. Finally, he released a long, trembling breath. “Do you have a blade?”

  “I think so,” she said carefully. “Why?”

  He stared at her. “Because if you want to help me, I need your blood.”

  “Oh.” She could practically hear her Da’ telling her what a terrible idea this was, even as she patted her pockets and found the small folding knife she’d carried since she went to gather mistletoe. “Not all of it, I hope?” she said with a hesitant smile.

  “No, not all.” His shoulders lifted in resolve, and he held a hand out, palm-up. “Cut me.”

  She frowned. “I thought you wanted my blood.”

  “Aye. Mingled with mine,” he said. “I’d prefer not to drink it, if it’s all the same to you.”

  Her skin crawled as she tried not to think about that too hard. “All right,” she said.

  She kept the cut shallow, and then sliced a similar wound across her own palm, wincing at the bite. When she held out her bleeding hand, he stared as though it was the first time he’d ever seen blood.

  Finally, he
growled unhappily and seized her.

  The world flashed a dazzling blue-white, and an intense surge of heat filled her body. Just when she was sure she’d pass out, Kieran released her and staggered back with a groan. She moved to help him instinctively.

  He waved her off, straightening slowly. He was still transparent.

  “It didn’t work,” she said.

  His laughter was hollow and raw. “Oh, but it did,” he said. “Your blood is only the key. It’ll take a while yet to open the door.”

  She sucked in a breath. “So … you can get out now?”

  “In time, aillidh. And the time is far shorter now than it would’ve been without you.” His lips twitched into a wicked smirk. “I’ll return with the moon.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Instead of answering, he faded and vanished.

  “Kieran?” She reached out and touched the place where he’d stood. Nothing but air.

  With a quick sigh, she turned and headed back for the car. Maybe she’d just made a terrible mistake — but it was done now. And she had to do something for him, after everything he’d done for her.

  Right now, she had other problems to worry about.

  She had to kill Glynis.

  Chapter 57

  The Apothecary – Next Morning

  When Rain brought the news to her father last night, he’d been mildly suspicious that she’d gotten all that information from the castle library, but he hadn’t pressed her too hard. Which worried her, but not as much as his reaction when she explained that they couldn’t save Glynis.

  He didn’t even try to protest. He’d resigned to agreement so fast, she didn’t have the heart to ask why. Because he’d actually seen her.

  She didn’t want to imagine what he’d seen to make him feel this way.

  Right now, back at the cabin, he and Poppy were working a Finding spell and preparing the stone. That would take all day, at least, so she’d decided to open the apothecary as usual in the meantime.

  But first she’d asked Kincaid to come in before opening time, so she could tell him everything.

  She’d been up by seven, and the knock at the shop door came promptly at eight. When she opened it, she found Kincaid hadn’t come alone. Brigid was with him.

  “Er,” she said. “Good morning.”

  “Is it really?” Kincaid looked cross and exhausted, but he gave a struggling smile as he walked in. And didn’t leave Brigid outside. “I can’t think of a bloody thing that’s good about it,” he said. “But morning to you, nonetheless.”

  “Yes. Thanks.” Her brow furrowed as she glanced at Brigid. The girl was uncharacteristically calm and quiet, and appeared as tired as her brother. “You two have a late night?” she said.

  “You might say that.” Kincaid huffed a breath. “We talked,” he said. “And she’s in, whatever this is. So what manner of terrible beastie are we going up against now?”

  Rain cringed inwardly as she closed the door behind them. She hadn’t told him about Glynis yet — part of her had been hoping she wouldn’t have to, that it was all a terrible mistake. He had no idea what he’d invited his sister into, and now she couldn’t even warn him privately. Still, she had to try. “I, uh, I’m not sure we need help,” she hedged. “I mean, you’ve already done a lot, Brigid. You don’t have to do this.”

  “I want to.” For the first time, she noticed Brigid actually looked shaken. But she was also determined. “If this faerie stuff is real … we can’t let them go around killing people.”

  She sighed. “Unfortunately, it’s not faerie stuff this time.”

  “See, now I don’t like that,” Kincaid said, his expression wary. “Never thought I’d be rooting to take on a faerie beastie, but there it is. Because if it’s something else … it’s worse,” he finished in a choked voice. “Isn’t it?”

  “It’s worse.” She closed her eyes, not sure she could actually say it out loud. But she had to. “It’s Glynis.”

  Shocked silence met the words. Kincaid seemed horrified, while Brigid bordered on furious. The girl was the first to break the quiet. “Why would you say that?” she demanded with narrowed eyes. “I knew you were a bit slow, but you can’t be this stupid. Glynis, murdering people? That’s … that’s insane!”

  “Brigid,” Kincaid coughed out. “That’s enough.”

  “But she’s lying. She has to be. Glynis isn’t even here, and—”

  “I said, that’s enough!” Kincaid’s raw shout made even Rain recoil. He stared at nothing with red-rimmed eyes, and said, “It’s true. I saw her a few nights ago, out on the moors.”

  “You what?” Brigid said. “You saw Glynis, and you didn’t tell me?”

  “I’d not told anyone.” He flinched and met Rain’s stare. “Thought she was just another ghostie,” he said in heavy tones. “With all that’s been goin’ on round here, I figured I must’ve gone off the nut myself. I’d never have thought she was…”

  Rain gave him an understanding smile. “I wouldn’t have, either,” she said. “But it’s true. I found a way to translate the runes on the stones, and her name is on them.”

  She wouldn’t mention the other name, the one they couldn’t know or do anything about. She could only pray that stopping Glynis would be enough.

  Brigid’s hand flew to her mouth, barely in time to cover a wrenching breath. After a long pause, she let it out on a watery sigh and said, “All right. What do we have to do?”

  Reluctantly, Rain told them.

  Chapter 58

  Ogham Wood – Night

  The wind moaned and whistled through the trees in the thickest part of the forest, miles from the druid encampment where no one ever ventured, not even to harvest plants for spells. But someone, at least, had ventured out here at some point.

  That much was evident in the rundown, moss-eaten cabin ahead of them in the clearing.

  Lachlan’s Finding spell had led them here, through tangled brush and old growth that was foreboding under the lightless new moon. There were four of them — Rain and Lachlan, who’d refused to let Poppy come out here; Kincaid and Brigid, each with their kits. Her father had the stone, spelled with the reversal curse. And she had her mother’s sword.

  “This place is warded,” Kincaid murmured from his crouch behind a thicket. “You feel that? It’s…”

  “Aye, our Glynis was always a strong one for wards.” Lachlan’s voice grew hoarse as he spoke. “Right, then,” he said. “Master Nolan, ye and the young lass’ll unmake those protections. Be ’ware that wolf is likely to be around — Rhiannon, ye’ll be ready to take the animal.” He shoved a hand in his pocket. “I’ll be handlin’ Glynis.”

  Rain laid a hand on his arm. “Da’, you don’t have to,” she said. Her and Glynis had been friends, but she knew her father had been much closer to the woman. Probably closer than he’d ever admit — the scar on his face attested to that. “I’ll take the stone.”

  “Nae, child,” he said roughly. “I’ll not have that on your conscience. And besides … she’s asked me to do it.”

  Her throat clenched. So that was why he hadn’t put up much of a fight when she told him they had to kill Glynis.

  He already knew that.

  “All right,” Kincaid half-whispered with a nod to Brigid. “Let’s get this over with.”

  The four of them crept through the remaining brush to the edge of the clearing, with Brigid and Kincaid in the lead. As the girl opened her kit and removed spell components, Rain circled around between them and the cabin, and Lachlan drifted silently toward the door, his hand still in his pocket.

  While Brigid mixed powders and flaked herbs in a wooden bowl, Kincaid took salt and candles from his kit. “Might well cast a circle, for all the good it’ll do,” he said under his breath. “Though all this is such a mess, I hardly know what we’ll need protecting from.”

  “Not Glynis,” Brigid said tightly without looking up. “That’s for sure.”

  Rain cleared he
r throat a bit. “Actually, you’re right,” she said. “Whoever she is, she’s not Glynis anymore.” Her jaw tightened as she explained, “Right now we’re dealing with the thing that murdered Glynis. The bitch who’s wearing her body like a suit.”

  Brigid glanced at her and gave a trembling smile. “Now that, I can get behind.”

  “Me too.” Kincaid’s features tightened. He paused holding a bottle of salt, then stood and walked in a slow circle around them, pouring the salt as he went. “Hey, Rain?” he said. “What happens if we can’t … deal with her?”

  She shuddered. “Maybe we’d better not think about that.”

  “Good idea.”

  In less than five minutes, Kincaid had finished casting the circle and Brigid stood with her ward-breaking spell ready. From beside the door, Lachlan nodded at the questioning thumbs-up she flashed. She nodded in return and walked past Rain, toward the cabin, already murmuring in Gaelic.

  When she finished speaking, she drew a handful of the mixture from the bowl and threw it at the cabin. “So mote it be,” she said clearly.

  A humming sound rose from the structure, low and pulsing and ominous. Blue-white balefire raced in measured lines along the doors, the windows, the walls, forming runes like the ones on the cursing stones. The light turned a wicked red for an instant, and the symbols vanished.

  From inside came a furious, blood-curdling scream.

  And then the sound of breaking glass as the white wolf crashed through the largest window — on a direct collision course with Brigid.

  Rain instantly drew the sword, but Kincaid was faster. He’d sprinted for his sister without a word, knocked her out of the way and got an arm up. Just in time for the wolf’s powerful jaws to clamp down on it. He screamed, and the wolf savaged him to the ground, snarling and clawing.

  Barely hearing Brigid’s cry, Rain lunged at the writhing animal. The wolf whined briefly as her blade found a mark — but she’d only nicked the beast, and it held fast.

  Then the cabin door slammed open, splintering from the frame on impact. And Glynis stepped out.