by Elle Clouse
“Why do you think you’d be a hindrance?”
Aisling held her hands out to show she had nothing. “What can I do? It’s a wizard’s battle. I’ve no magic, no special skill to fight.”
Her mother smiled. “Oh sweetie, you have the pack behind you.”
DECLAN TUGGED AT HIS bindings but they held fast, keeping him affixed to the chair in the holding cell. Gilroy paced outside the cell doors.
“When I said to get the amulet back,” Gilroy groused. “I didn’t mean for you attack in the city street like a wild mage. You are lucky my Drugai didn’t destroy you.”
The guard had used their skills to press Declan and Fintan to the cobblestone until all their power had been neutralized. Even in his bound state, his fingers worried the impression his rings had left.
“Give me one good reason not to cast you into The Pit with the other thieves and murderers. You’ve proven incompetent in returning my artifact.”
“I’ve located the thief who took it. His band of men were hiding out right under our noses and escaped me by magical means.”
Gilroy ceased his pacing to stare at Declan. “Go on.”
“There was a drugai and an elf in the party. I don’t know how, but they vanished. I’ve never seen a teleport like that before.”
Gilroy scowled. “Reliquaries. Each drugai carries their own.”
“Not strong enough for a party of five.”
Gilroy frowned.
Declan knew he was right, most of the reliquaries the drugai carried were smuggled by his band of men. None were ever so powerful as to move more than two.
“The bandit is housed in the north, in a barony called Armanta Hill.”
Gilroy’s scowl darkened.
“My information is good. Straight from one of the man’s lackeys. I’ve only to retrieve the amulet and the man responsible.” Declan couldn’t guarantee he’s return the thief alive. The fortune he lost because Fletcher intervened was worth the man’s life. But was it worth it for Gilroy to let them go? Declan hadn’t had a chance to test the amulet’s ability, he didn’t know what it did.
“You’ve two weeks.” Gilroy motioned for a nearby guard to unlock the bars. “Your items will be returned to you but I’ll not provide any further assistance. Bring me the amulet, I’ve no care for the thief. But if you fail, you forfeit your lands and title. Do you understand. It’s The Pit for you.”
There was no way he was going to The Pit. He’d get his revenge and get back his reputation and with Aisling’s money he’d regain what he lost. He’d get what he deserved after months of hiding and striving.
The guard released his bonds then released Fintan. They met gazes whilst rubbing their wrists. Fintan knew what was at stake, and Declan had made it clear what his reward was for his aid.
They were unceremoniously walked to the street, the sun setting into the distant horizon. Decent folk were scurrying to their destination. If they hurried, they could catch a coach.
Declan stalked down the street, Finton at his side. “The amulet is the priority. But if all of Fletcher’s men fall to find it, so be it. They’ll not have what’s rightfully mine. Do you understand?”
“Yes, My Lord.”
Chapter 22
Tension mounted as days passed. Both because Declan was expected any day now but also that Aisling had stayed away. Brogan had lied to himself long enough, she didn’t care. She was gone.
“I’ve been seeing increased wolf activity in the surrounding forest.” Ardhor appeared beside him, Brogan lost in his own self-loathing. “They are wreaking havoc on my alarms. It will make it difficult to know which as are wild animal and which is our incoming threat.”
“Increased wolf sign?” Brogan turned from the training ring where Aric and a few of his men practiced their skills to glance at his elven friend. Could he dare to hope Aisling had returned? Or was the harsh winter driving the ordinary wolves closer to man in their hunt for food? There was no way to know.
Brogan glanced at Bowen. The lad had taken up sparing with the guard once the manual labor subsided. It had taken days of convincing from Miss Cotton to keep him from organizing a search party. Only when Brogan pulled him aside and confided Aisling’s secret did he stand down. Bowen would have to make the same choice soon as well, he confessed to the same affliction.
“It may not be the M’Tyr, it may be wolves or Declan toying with us.”
Ardhor nodded. “Miss Cotton should have arrived at Cearball with the younger Murphy’s. It was prudent to suggest she seek out Connor in regards to Aisling. Had she flew straight to Lord Oakhurst, things may have gotten out of hand.”
Brogan snorted. “Things are already out of control, I’m just trying to minimize the damage. I only wish I could have talked Bowen and the rest of the guard to join them.”
“Aric was wise to remain with Bowen, it’s still his duty to protect...” Ardhor tilted his head to the side as if he heard something. He held up a finger to gain a moment of silence. “Another ward has been tripped. From the North.”
Besides the Wylderlands, the only known homes to the north were vacant.
“And the interior ward. We’ve got incoming, one being. I sense magic in him. Or her.”
Brogan’s hand settled on the sword at his hip. Although they expected magic, the mundane couldn’t be ruled out either. Phelan had reported that Declan had a partner and there was no telling what his talent was; magic or melee.
Ardhor pulled his bow from its holder and strung the draw. Both kept in a state of readiness that was not lost on their remaining guests. The sparing men ceased their attacks and watched Brogan for direction.
A lone wolf crested the hill, silver and white against the pine trees. In its mouth, it carried a cloth sack. An odd sight but the creature dropped the bundle and shifted forms. Brogan blinked at the unreliable sight, his mind waring with the elongating legs and disappearing fur. Naked as the day he was born, the man plucked a pair of breeches from his sack and covered himself in record time.
“Connor.” Both Brogan and Ardhor exclaimed the man’s name as the blond Lord approached. Brogan hadn’t expected to see him until spring. The guard were wide eyes and slack jawed. “As you were men.”
Aric barked orders, shaking the men from their gawking.
“What’s this I hear that you let my sister wander into the forest by herself?”
Bowen ran up and hugged his brother before Brogan could explain. “She is like us, possessed by the wolf. She said she was going to join mother.”
Brogan motioned them all the side and the guardsmen resumed their practice. When they were past hearing distance. “She is safe. She is with your mother with the M’Tyr.”
“The who?” Connor asked.
“The wylderland wolfkin clan who took in your mother when your father cast her out.”
Connor ran a hand over his chin stubble and looked between Ardhor and Brogan.
“My mother.” Connor’s eyes danced about as if hundreds of thoughts surfaced in his mind. “We never found out what happened to her. Can you take me to her?”
Bowen grabbed his brother’s arm. “Take us.”
“I’d love to but—“
“There may be no time.” Ardhor held up a hand. “I sense you coming from my network of wards. Two people approach from the road, their magic is different than his. They just passed the outer perimeter.”
“I suppose it’s too much to hope for more allies?” Brogan let sarcasm saturate his words. “It’s probably Declan. Connor, we’re in for a fight but I’d like you to take your brother and get far from here. It’s not your fight.”
“No, let me fight.” Bowen brandished the wooden practice sword still held in his hand.
“As an ally to the king, you’ve the right to ask from aide from me and my men. What sort of trouble have you gotten yourself into all the way up here? Did you say Declan? The count of Dubhan?”
“The very same.” Brogan turned and marched to the front of the manor,
which faced the road. Better to mean the half-crazed count head on. “I’m sorry there isn’t much time to explain but it’s my fight.”
Ardhor matched his speed. “Brogan, I’m concerned with the aftermath of a magical fight, should it come to that.”
“How so? Lost faith in me so soon?”
“I have no doubt you will prevail, your power is remarkable.” Ardhor glanced back at Connor and Bowen who tailed them. “I’m worried about the noise. Dubhan has reliquaries but you’ll have your raw power. Although we drill with discretion in mind, an all-out brawl could get loud. Attract more attention than we want.”
Brogan thought of Uilleam and the Emperor’s Drugai. If they all carried the same reliquaries, more could arrive during the battle. Brogan could quickly get outnumbers. “Perhaps if we draw him into the woods, into the Wylderlands?”
Ardhor clapped Brogan on the shoulder as they halted before the manor. “Perhaps any surge in energy would be ignored outside the civil lands. Hide magic within magic. It’s our only hope.”
Brogan scanned the road and the tree line. He rolled out his shoulders, trying to loosen the tight muscles. He had a clear path to the edge of the forest although running warred with his instinct. He’d be drawing the madman closer to Aisling, where ever she was. Hopefully she was miles and miles away, safe and warm with her people. Where she was better off.
Brogan Fletcher got the girl, but never kept her. There were better Lords for that.
Chapter 23
“Are you thinking a front attack my Lord?” Fintan asked. “Or should we circle around and see what we are dealing with?”
Declan glared down at the manor. Quaint, cozy and too good for the likes of Fletcher. His choice was taken from him when the new lord rounded the manor house, his elven friend at his side. And... Was that a Murphy?
A blond man and a young joined the lord in the drive, the same blond as his Aisling. Yes, that was Connor and Bowen, what in the gods name were they doing at Armanta Hill?
“Bah, looks like they are ready for us. Your orders?” Fintan tugged a dagger from its sheath under his coat. Skilled in interrogation and espionage, his skills wouldn’t fare well in a brawl.
Declan lifted up his hands, glancing over his rings. He had enough power to take down the lot of them, without Fintan’s help. The man was only left alive because he might need to question Fletcher as to the whereabouts of the amulet.
Declan kicked his horse to a trot, following the road to the front of the manor. Fintan followed. The lord would be a fool to outright attack, but then again he had stolen from the count of Dubhan. Perhaps he was stupid enough.
Using one of the reliquaries, Declan extended a magic shield about himself. Invisible to most people, it would guard him against sudden attacks. The group readied for an ambush as they approached.
“You are not welcome here, Lord Blackling.” Brogan shouted as soon as they were close enough.
The elf also stood ready for a fight, the same elf that had helped the drugai move five people. He wore no rings, no amulet, and no circlet. His ability must be natural then, all the more reason to guard against him. Brogan bore no jewelry either.
“Count Dubhan,” Connor stepped forward. “What brings you to the North? Your last letter said your business was in the capital.”
“My business is here now,” the count snarled. “Since Brogan Fletcher stole my last shipment. I’ve a debt to settle with him. It does not concern you, Lord Murphy.”
Connor turned and glanced back at Brogan, who held his shoulders like a trapped man.
“It’s true.” Brogan’s shoulders sunk. “I took his amulet and sold it. Then I spent it all my profits and then some to travel to Cearbhall, dress my cousin as a princess, and marry her to the crown prince to gain my title.”
Declan’s mouth fell out. Just like that? Confess to the whole thing? He’d not know the next con but Fletcher had an offense list longer that his own arm.
“Now isn’t the time for jokes.” Connor gave Brogan a sour glare.
“It’s not a joke.” Brogan furrowed his brow and pointed a finger at Declan. “I stole the Seal of Marmor from him, mid transport during a party. It was easy.”
“The what?” Connor asked.
Ardhor stepped forward, drawing an arrow at Declan. “The Seal of Marmor, an ancient reliquary fable to grant the wearer uninhibited mind control. It was rumored to be lost to time.”
Declan scowled at the elf, the pointy-eared bastard needed to be silenced. The less Connor knew the better, Declan couldn’t slay his own future brother in law. The others, however, weren’t important.
“Well, it’s useless now, the buyer broke it in two once he bought it from me. Said it wasn’t safe to be left to man. So your precious seal isn’t here nor can you retrieve it.”
Anger simmered in his chest. “Rubbish, an artifact like that cannot be destroyed by ordinary means. Where is it now?”
“I’ll not tell,” Brogan said. “It’s in better hands than yours, and that’s all I care about. Your journey north was for naught.”
Red edged his vision, the smarmy grin on Fletcher’s face tore at his last reserves. With his protective shield still in place, he activated his other rings, blasting a beam of energy forward to burn the lord from existence.
The elf loosed his arrow but it bounced off the shield. Brogan threw up his hands as if to shield his face from a blow. The energy reflected off his hands, barreling against his own shields. The force knocked him back but Declan managed to stay on his feet. Fintan, who was outside the protection of the ring, flew back several yards and landed in a heap of snow.
The elf and Fletcher broke for the tree line, leaving a wide eyed Connor and his brother at the manor. Fintan could deal with them if need be, he couldn’t be dead from his flight.
His pulse raced as he sped after the two, his revenge only a few trees away. He couldn’t kill the man without finding the name of his business partner though. He reminded himself again and again before loosing another volley of beams at the man’s backside.
The elf deflected. Both were trained in the art of magic, interesting. Gilroy would be happy to find new targets for his Drugai. Declan renewed his pace, the two gaining too much headway. His lungs burned with each breath and his exhale fogged his vision.
Brogan and the elf stopped and turned in a clearing. Declan had couldn’t recall how far into the woods they had run. He glanced back but his snow tracks disappeared in the distance.
No matter, he’d paint the snow red with Brogan’s blood and find his way back.
Chapter 24
Aisling thought once she was free of the constraints of society, she’d never return. But walking ward Armanta Hill, her heart told her she was where she needed to be. She glanced back at the wolkfin who chose to follow her. A few kept their human form but more followed as a wolf. A month ago if she beheld the party she’d have scream of fright. Now she saw friends and smiled.
“Something doesn’t feel right.” Valko stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. The manor was barely visible through the thick trees. Nothing looked out of place.
The hair on Aisling’s arms stood up and a static crackled about them. Her senses guided her to turn before an explosion echoed past them. The ground rumbled and plumes of smoke and fire spit into the air above the trees. Her heart caught in her through.
“Brogan.” Heedless of the danger, Aisling ran toward the ruckus. Valko followed but the rest hung back. Despite being half wolf, they probably never saw magic before. She broke into a clearing, and Declan stood in the center with his hands in the air as if to hurtle a large rock but he held nothing. Trees lay flattened before him, void of snow and half afire.
“Aisling? What are you doing here?”
His power washed over her like a tidal wave, whatever he was casting has been disrupted enough that it was rendered useless. Wind spiraled from a man standing at the edge of the clearing and knocked Declan back. Ardhor stepped from the tree line.
“It’s not safe, my lady.”
His use of pleasantries made her smirk. “Where’s—“
Declan sprung to his feet and punched a line of energy at the elf. “Get to the house, woman, I’ll deal with you when I dispatch these thieves.”
Aisling’s nostrils flared. Deal with her? “No.”
Declan turned to face her, his eyes wide and crazed. “Do as you’re told or I’ll take the lash to you.”
Aisling recoiled, no one ever spoke to her like that.
“Want me to thrash him?” Valko stepped her side, his hands ready to throw off his clothes and shift.
Brogan rushed from his hiding spot, gaining on Declan from behind. He made no sound on the snow and moved faster than an ordinary man. He clenched his jaw as he launched with a punch at Declan.
Aisling held her breath, apprehension holding her still. Declan turned, swatted away Brogan’s attack, and struck with his own fist. Brogan flew back, leaving a path in the snow and stopping at her feet.
“Now want me to thrash him?” Valko growled.
Aisling dropped to her knees beside Brogan, his eyes wide but seeking her out.
“You came back.” He reached for her hand and held it to his chest. Her heart warmed at the motion. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
“I love you, you scoundrel.” She glanced up at Declan, his stare boring down on her. “When we get out of this, we are going to have a chat.”
Ardhor rounded the outside of the clearing, his hands and lips moving. Declan paid no mind but advanced on her and Brogan. Valko stepped before them but with a flick of a finger, Declan threw him back with an invisible force.
Ardhor shouted: “MAGIC WORD.”
A circle formed on the ground around Declan, melting the snow back. It looked outlined in runes and symbols. Declan stopped as if he’d run in to a wall at the edge of the circle. He pressed a palm to the wall, made a motion with his hand, and pushed forward. The wall crackled then shattered, the circle on the ground flashing bright then disappearing.