by Bree Wolf
Garrett chuckled behind him. “I always knew ye were hiding something, but I never would’ve thought it was something like this.” He stepped forward and clasped a hand on Cormag’s shoulder. “Ye know where she is, d’ye not?”
“Aye,” Cormag confirmed before he pulled himself back into the saddle. “Something odd is happening though.” He frowned, wondering about the sense of pride he had felt from her. It was something he would not have expected under the circumstances. “I dunna know what to make of it.”
But he would know soon.
They were getting closer.
40
The Shadow
“I told ye to stay away from her!” Ian hissed, his hands balled into fists at his sides, his body trembling with barely controlled rage. He stood on the edge of a precipice that loomed high above them, his blue eyes staring down at where Moira huddled with Blair in her arms. “Get away from her! Why is she here? How did ye call for her?”
Moira swallowed, her throat dry as she searched for words to explain, to pacify Ian, to get out of this alive. But there were none. Ian was lost in his rage. He did not even fully acknowledge his daughter’s presence. Although his gaze swept over her now and then, it never lingered as though he feared that his concern for Blair might lessen the strength of his anger.
And anger was all he had left.
Moira knew that now. It was not hatred that drove him, but desperation, hopelessness. That, she understood.
“Dunna be angry, Father,” Blair called as she left the safety of Moira’s embrace, her little feet carrying her closer to the steep rock. She craned her neck upward, and Moira prayed with every fibre of her being that Blair would find a way to reach her father’s heart.
The snarl on Ian’s face lessened when his gaze dropped and fell on his precious child. A warm glow came to his eyes as he looked at her, and yet, there was a deep fear lingering there as well. “Step away, Blair,” he said gently, but with urgency in his voice. “Dunna get too close to her.”
“She’s not a witch,” Blair told him before she cast a gentle look over her shoulder at Moira. “She made a mistake, but she’s not bad. I promise. Ye dunna need to be afraid.”
Ian’s jaw clenched as he listened to his daughter defend the woman he saw as the root of all his troubles. “Ye bewitched her as well,” he hissed, his gaze hardening as it left Blair’s.
Moira’s heart sank. It did not matter what anyone said for Ian had made up his mind, and it seemed there was no changing it.
With his body still tense, Ian’s movements were jarred and seemed somewhat uncontrolled as he made his way down the cliff toward them. He stepped from rock to rock, choosing those that jutted out from the wall of granite, his hands holding tightly to smaller ledges.
“Careful, Father!” Blair called to him, wringing her little hands in agitation.
Glancing over his shoulder, Ian almost lost his footing.
Torn, Moira stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on Blair’s shoulder. “Hush, little one. Dunna distract him or he’ll fall.”
“But he needs to know,” Blair said, turning fearful eyes to Moira. “He needs to know about the shadow.”
Before Moira could answer the girl, Ian’s voice lashed out like a whip. “What shadow? What is she talking about? What did ye do to her?” His hands clung to the ledge, tightening with each word he spoke, the sinews standing out white as anger gripped him anew.
“I saw it,” Blair rushed to explain, her little feet carrying her toward him again. “I saw it in my dreams. It walks behind ye. It wants to hurt ye, Father.”
Ian froze, and Moira felt her heart speed up as the blood seemed to drain from his face, his skin turning a ghastly white. His fingers seemed to slacken, and all tension left his body.
For a second, Moira thought he might drop like a stone.
Then his gaze cleared and swung to meet hers, and what she saw there broke Moira’s heart for it was utter and sheer betrayal. In his eyes, she had not only stolen his wife’s love but now also corrupted his daughter, turning her into an image of herself and against him.
Pain and loss darkened his gaze, and for a short moment, his eyes closed as though he no longer had the strength to keep going.
The shadow Blair had seen.
It was not a person, but the hatred and disappointment that rested in Ian’s chest, changing him a little bit every day, altering him, turning the cheerful and kind man he had once been into a snarling monster.
“Father, please, be careful,” Blair implored, and her little hands rose as though to reach for him.
Moira knew not what to do. Her heart was torn between self-preservation and the compassion she felt at the sight of Ian’s pain. Pain she understood and knew only too well. Perhaps she could try−
A soft rustling in the bushes opposite them drew her attention, and Moira’s gaze narrowed as she took a step to the side, trying to see over them. Had it merely been the wind? She wondered, doubting it the moment she felt the little hairs in the back of her neck rise, sending a shiver down her spine.
An agitated snort came from one of their horses, still tied to one of the low-hanging branches, and both lifted their heads, their eyes slightly widened and their ears flicking nervously.
Moira felt herself tense as she watched, saw their hooves dance back and forth, agitation clearly visible in the way they moved, stretching the reins as though wishing to get away.
Away from what?
Glancing at Blair, she saw the little girl watch her father as he stood up on the ledge, carefully picking his way down. His eyes remained downcast, and Moira feared that Ian would never again look at Blair with the same love and devotion he always had until today. Would Blair’s gift sever their bond forever?
A low snarl drifted to Moira’s ears, and her head whipped around again, her eyes once more focused on the bushes not far from where Blair stood, her little hands clasped tightly around one another.
As though in answer, the horses began to prance nervously, their ears almost flattened to their heads. One tried to rear up but was hindered by the short rein.
Moira’s skin tingled with awareness as she surveyed the area before her, blind to what hid not far from them. Was someone lurking in the bushes? No, not someone.
Something.
The breath caught in her throat as Moira once more turned to look at their horses and saw fear in their eyes. Clearly, their senses had picked up on something that people often overlooked, and they reacted to it on instinct alone.
Something was very wrong.
The thought had barely formed in her mind before a grey blur shot forward, tearing a shriek from Blair’s lips as it landed not far from her, its fangs bared and a low growl emanating from its throat.
A wolf!
The shock almost flung Moira backwards. Her eyes went wide as she stared at the snarling animal, its fur dull and scraggly and its ribs visible through its pelt. It was thin, mal-nourished, starving, and it looked at Blair and saw easy prey.
For a moment, Moira thought she was dreaming, truly dreaming, for there had not been a wolf sighting in decades. Their kind had been slowly hunted to extinction and was now only whispered about in stories of old.
“Blair!” Ian yelled, fear changing his voice as he stared at his daughter and the growling animal slowly advancing on her. The horses neighed in panic, trying to break their bonds again and again until one of the branches snapped under the strain.
The freed horse instantly bolted, its thundering hoof beats echoing across the plain.
Shaken from her trance, Moira tried her utmost to remain as still as possible, her gaze sweeping over her surroundings. She needed a weapon. Anything to ward off the wolf.
Dimly, she remembered that Blair had taken a knife from her father’s saddle bags, but where it had ended up was anyone’s guess. It probably lay hidden in the dirt somewhere. A rock, perhaps? Or a branch?
Seeing the animal’s sharp fangs, Moira thought a branch might
be the better option and so when she saw Ian lunge himself from the ledge, aiming for the space in-between Blair and the wolf, Moira moved quickly. She reached for one of the lower-hanging branches, one that looked dry and brittle, and put all her weight on it.
Moira heard a groan slip from Ian’s lips, and holding onto the branch, which slowly bent under her weight, she turned to see that he had hit the ground hard, the momentum propelling him sideways…and he hit his head on a large bolder sticking out of the ground.
For a moment, his limbs went slack, and Moira feared that he had lost consciousness.
Blair shrieked. “Father!” She surged toward him, but then stopped when the animal growled, snapping its jaws at her.
“Blair, stay back!” Moira yelled before the branch suddenly surrendered and she fell onto the ground. Her hands burnt from the effort and the scrape of the rough bark, but none of that mattered.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ian stir. His eyes opened, and his head turned toward his daughter. “Blair.” It was no more than a whisper, feeble and without strength.
Pushing herself up, Moira gripped the thick branch and crossed the small area in quick strides, holding the branch like a sword in front of her. Ian tried to push himself up, but he could not keep his legs under him. Blood stained the hard ground and the boulder that had broken his fall.
Moira knew that she was on her own.
As though the wolf sensed a threat approaching, it gave another menacing snarl and then lunged itself at Blair. The girl shrieked, and Moira surged forward, lifting the branch and swinging it over her shoulder. It struck the wolf in the face, pulling short its lunge, and dropped it onto the ground.
The animal yelped, but desperation and the instinct to survive had it back on its paws in no time.
“Stay behind me, Blair!” Moira shouted at the child, who cowered on the ground, her eyes wide with fear as she looked from Moira to the wolf and then to her father.
Again, Ian was trying to push himself to his feet, a hand pressed to his head, and again, he fell back down.
The wolf snarled, pawing the ground, and Moira knew it was only a matter of time before it would attack again. She gripped the branch with both hands and kept her eyes fixed on the animal.
Suddenly, it sprung.
It shot forward with surprising speed, and although she whacked it with her branch, yet again, it did not stay down long. Again, it came at her, and this time, Moira barely managed to bring the branch up, so the animal’s teeth sunk into the brittle wood and not into her flesh.
The attack threw her backwards, and the animal’s weight pushed her into the ground as its jaws tightened on the branch, the only barrier between them. A growl tore from its throat as it shook its head, trying to move the branch out of the way.
But Moira held on tight, knowing that without it, she would be utterly defenceless.
Still, how long would she be able to keep the wolf at bay?
Not long was the terrifying answer as she felt her arms begin to tremble with the effort. The animal’s claws scratched her arms and dug into her legs, and she felt warm blood flow down her skin. With nowhere else to turn, she looked at Blair then, the girl’s blue eyes wide as she looked up at Moira.
And then Ian staggered to his feet, unsteady and swaying, but he remained upright. He stumbled to his daughter’s side and drew her into his arms.
For a moment, Moira thought they would both crash to the ground, but Ian managed to keep his feet under him.
Step by step, he moved forward, away from Moira and the wolf and toward the remaining horse. It was still prancing nervously, but Ian’s presence seemed to calm it. He grasped the reins and drew it forward, lifting Blair into the saddle.
Averting her gaze, unable to watch them ride away and leave her behind, Moira fought the hopelessness that engulfed her as she found herself alone, abandoned. Without even lifting a finger, Ian had found a way to rid himself of her, and Moira knew she was done for.
Once more, she looked up at the snarling beast, its jaws slowly closing in on her throat. Soon, it would rip her to pieces, but at least Blair was safe. Ian would see to it. After all, there was no one in this world he loved more than his daughter.
If only Moira could have seen Cormag one last time.
Her eyes closed once more, and regret filled her heart.
41
Light & Dark
More and more sea gulls screeched nearby as Cormag and Garrett drew nearer to the water’s edge. A large outcrop rose into the sky some distance ahead of them as they made their way through a shallow dip in the land, the tall grass swaying in the strong breeze.
As they crested the next hill, their eyes fell on a grazing pony. “’Tis carrying a bridle,” Garrett exclaimed, confusion clinging to his voice, as they urged their mounts closer.
Lifting its head, the pony neighed as though in greeting and then once more returned its attention to the lush grass at its feet.
“’Tis one of ours,” Cormag said, allowing his gaze to sweep their surroundings. “How did it get here? It couldna have carried Moira.”
“The third rider!” Shaking his head, Garrett leant forward and peered at the animal’s hooves. “The third prints were smaller, but I didna think of a pony.”
“Still, that doesna explain what it’s doing here.”
A piercing shriek cut through the air, and Cormag’s blood froze in his veins.
“What was that?” Garrett exclaimed as he tried to calm his prancing mount. “Who was that? Did that not sound like−?”
“Blair,” Cormag finished for him before they pulled their mounts around and urged them in the direction from which the scream had come. “What on earth is she doing here?” Cormag mumbled as he flattened himself to his gelding’s back, urging it to go faster still.
With thundering hooves, they flew across the land as the strong breeze tore at their clothes and whipped their hair into their faces. To shield his eyes from the sting of the harsh gust, Cormag squinted into the wind, his body tense with the need to know.
To reach his destination.
To act, to help, to be there.
Something moved on the horizon, and Cormag squinted his eyes further. “Another rider?” he yelled, pointing ahead of him.
The horse stormed toward them, and as it drew closer, Cormag realised that it was riderless as well. Its eyes were wide, and the way it moved spoke of flight.
“Something spooked it,” Garrett echoed Cormag’s thoughts. “What d’ye think−?”
“There’s no time!” Not pausing, Cormag pushed onward, his thoughts scrambling to make sense of everything he had seen but coming up empty. How on earth had Blair ended up here? Why was she screaming? What was Ian doing to Moira?
Fear once more gripped his heart, more acute this time, and as though on cue, another scream cut through the peaceful stillness around him. Cormag flinched, and his mount slowed, but he quickly urged it back into a gallop.
There was no time to lose. Whatever was happening, Cormag needed to be there.
Now!
His blood pounded in his ears, and his heart tightened in his chest as though a heavy boulder rested atop it. His muscles fought to move, yearning for confrontation, but he forced them to remain still, to wait as his gelding thundered across the land, which levelled out toward the cliff’s edge.
A line of trees blocked his view, and Cormag pulled up his mount, approaching it carefully as a deep snarl reached his ears.
“What was that?” Garrett panted the very moment another horse broke through the underbrush. Only this one had Blair clinging to its back, her eyes wide with fear and her face tear-streaked. The moment she saw them, her little hands reached forward. “Ye have to help! Please! There’s a wolf!”
“A wolf?” Cormag could not believe his ears; however, the look of terror on the girl’s face instantly wiped away his doubts. He spurred on his gelding, sending it flying across a thick cluster of brambles, and then urged it onward pa
st the trees and into the small clearing.
What he saw then nearly flattened him - Moira pinned to the ground by a snarling wolf snapping its jaws at her throat.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still as Cormag stared across the clearing at his wife fighting for her life.
No more than a second passed, and yet, Cormag took note of the slight trembling in her arms, the fear etched into her eyes as well as the hard line of her jaw speaking of the determination not to surrender.
The wolf was a scraggly beast, thin and with little flesh on its bones, but desperation and the need to survive gave it strength. Its claws tore into Moira’s clothes, laying bare her flesh, and he saw blood seeping into the ground beneath her.
And then there was Ian.
Blood stained his blond hair in the back of his head, and his movements were sluggish as he staggered toward Moira and the wolf. Then he stumbled and went down, bracing one hand on the ground to break his fall. Fatigue and no small measure of pain marked his face. Still, he reached for the knife in his boot, his eyes determined as they rose and fixed on Moira.
Fear grabbed Cormag’s heart, and he all but dropped from his horse. The second his feet were under him, he pushed off and lunged forward, long strides carrying him toward his wife. His gaze darted back and forth between the two threats to her life: the wolf, which was still struggling to get past the branch she used to defend herself, and Ian, who was again pushing to his feet, the blade in his hand gleaming in the late afternoon sun.
Cormag felt sickened at the sight, and anger surged through his veins, giving him strength and pushing him onward. Moira could barely keep the wolf at bay. Soon, it would overpower her. And yet, even now, Ian could not let go of his hatred. Would he truly end her life if the wolf did not beat him to it?
Cormag did not wait to find out.
And then the branch broke in two.
Moira screamed as the wolf’s fangs grazed the skin on her throat, and Cormag felt his heart stop at the thought that he would not reach her in time.
A second or two was all he needed.