Enchanted Moon (Moon Magick Book II) (15 page)

She looked beyond fetching when irked. Fiery. Fierce.
The part of her was showing through that had braved knocking a huge, ravenous wolf
upside the head, then calling it a pet. The part of her he’d first seen when
she’d knocked him onto his arse and tried to slit his throat.

Images flashed in his mind. Maera’s wings. Ailyn’s
strange, warriorlike garb, the glint of her pendant that could be more than the
sunlight’s reflection on facets. Much of what she’d said. Much of how she
behaved. The pieces moved, flitted, and rearranged themselves through his mind
under the possibility that Ailyn was not of this world.

“What do you mean, you have the key?” Quinlan asked.

Aye, Ailyn not being of this world would explain much.
His rational mind grappled with it, but only because he’d stopped believing in
such things at some point. Or mayhap because the woman he faced did not match
up at all with the Fae of his imaginings.

In all his life, he never guessed that
sidhe
folk could look as human as he.
What a good, sly trick on men to make the mischief-makers able to blend in so
well.

Ailyn tipped her head at his question and pursed her
lips. He decided she was searching for the right words until she reached down
into her tunic and pulled out her pendant. The teardrop-shaped stone glowed a
pale, bright green in the morning sun. Against her palm, the light seemed to
burn from its center outward.

Ailyn looked at Danny, in silent warning, then drew
the stone to her lips. She shut her eyes, her mouth forming silent words.
Opening her eyes, she blew on the stone.

Quinlan sucked in a gasp of air as soft green sparkles
floated off the gem like dandelion seeds on a summer breeze. One of the sparks
became a tiny butterfly that lived three wing beats, then wisped away,
vanishing.

Magick.

He reached for the pendant unconsciously. Ailyn pulled
away, her fist closing over the gem. She softly shook her head, tucking it back
into her tunic.

“You canno’ touch it,” Danny said gravely. “No one can
save Ailyn.”

“The man who wants it must be able to,” Quinlan said,
aiming to poke a hole in Danny’s logic.

“Nay. Not even him.” Danny looked in the distance, his
expression sober. For a moment, he appeared far wiser than his years could
justify.

He thought of the drawing he’d seen, and opened his
mouth to share as much when something else sank in. “Then why didn’t he take
her along with whatever else he came for?”

Ailyn and Danny exchanged a look. Ailyn shivered,
turning away.

“I dinna ken,” Danny said.

“Because he doesn’t know I have it,” Ailyn said over
her shoulder, facing the sun. The light crowned her hair, giving it a pinkish
red hue akin to a summer sunset.

“But if he did—”

“Once he does,” Danny interrupted, then nodded, “he’ll
take her, to be sure.” He came to stand next to Quinlan, clapping him on the
shoulder. “And that, friend, is where you fit in.”

Ailyn looked down a moment, then faced them. “I’m
brown-blooded. I have little magick in my world, and far less in yours. I’m
trained. You’ll not be burdened with a lamb is all I mean, but if I’m to stop
him and get to what I need to get to, I’ll need to be able to fight.”

“You’re asking me to teach you?” He looked at Danny
also, to be certain.

“We both know I can wield a blade, but I canno’
improve her skills there,” Danny said. “I can help her amplify the magick.”

Quinlan scowled. “But you both have decided that I
can.”

Danny shrugged one shoulder. Ailyn looked askance. Not
the eager reassurance he was seeking, to be sure. “I’m all you got, is that
it?”

“Nay, I’ve got plenty,” Danny said, giving him a wide
grin. “Least I will, once I get my pages back. You’re all she’s got, though.”

Ailyn had given them her back again and strode toward
the horses. Quinlan’s mind seemed to be plummeting under a well of watery
information and far too much emotion. A choice lay at the bottom. Stay.

Or go.

As if any real choice remained.

Chapter Fifteen

The vestiges of her dream drifted through her mind and
heart long after they departed for another day’s ride. The might reach the
Giant’s Causeway by nightfall. Daniel—she no longer thought of him as
Danny; the name seemed unfitting—and Quinlan spent most of their time
brooding, then talking, then brooding more.

Not that she could blame them.

There was much to be taken in. Daniel shared what he
could about their goal, about what was contained in the missing pages. Quinlan
focused on what could be done to better hide from this man who wanted the bloodstone.
He had little choice but to trust Ailyn’s certainty of who sought it—and
her.

Ailyn wanted quiet. The beating hooves, the hushed
timbre of their voices, the roar of her mind as it shouted for understanding.

With unique foreboding she had sensed it was Kristoph
who had entered their camp. The unique foreboding his presence oft wrought
within her, now present again, left her no doubts. Whenever leaving Tullah’s
chambers, she always could tell if he was near. She could feel him there now,
like a scent can linger, long after the flowers were gone. She knew the dark
feel of his presence, and it had been here in the small clearing. So strong was
the sensation that part of her thought it had been in her dream as well.

She couldna be certain, though, and that sent her mind
into a bit of a fit. Her scalp felt itchy with it. Her shoulders tensed. A
good, long scream might be the only thing to bring real relief.

Quinlan would stay. She was so relieved; Ailyn
inevitably circled back to that fact repeatedly. He agreed to teach her what he
could by way of mortal combative skill;, perhaps he would hone what skills she
already had.

Training would keep her busy, and mayhap she would
learn a move or two to fell her brother onto his knavish arse. She blamed Colm
for these recent events. If he’d listened to her about the sacred pool. If he’d
not become a wolf. If he had not conspired with Maera, and how she wished she
knew the how, why, and what of their plans.

Colm would be here, at her side, helping her see her
true role in this. He could protect her, and she him. Kristoph was so powerful.
Did her brother have any idea who else had come through to this world? Had he
any inkling the fate to which he had condemned them?

Ailyn sighed in exasperation. There her mind went again,
churning with irritation. She had to come to terms with what was—to
simplify it all so that her mind could focus. Ride hard, retrieve the stones,
and protect them She watched Quinlan’s back. Every so often, he would glance
back at her, his gaze intense. Daniel would send her nods.

He meant to help her find magick here. She found that
laughable. Not because she doubted his ability to do so, but because this world
felt dry of magick. Parched of any sort of source energy. Even the lush, green,
rolling landscape felt flat compared to her vibrant, nigh pulsing, homeland.

“We’ll take a rest up ahead,” Quinlan called, pointing
at a low hill in the distance.

Ailyn nodded.

Within minutes, they made their way from the main road
and moved deep into a wood. The sun was setting, and the low light gave the
white and gray spotted trees a menacing look. A clicking noise high in the
boughs echoed through the quiet. Daniel led the way, and while they made no
moves to cover their tracks like last evening, she guessed that the winding
traverse created a bit of concealment.

He pulled his mount to a stop. Ailyn followed suit,
guiding her horse closer. Quinlan and his stallion pulled up beside her.

“Just beyond there,” he pointed, directing to Quinlan.
“You’ll find a suitable clearing. I’ve made use of it myself without troubles.”

Quinlan nodded.

Ailyn assumed Daniel would cover their tracks and join
them. But as they rode away, he turned his mount and went in an opposite
direction altogether. She pulled up on her reins. “Daniel!” she called. He did
not answer. “Daniel!” she tried again, cupping her hands and shouting.

“Leave him,” Quinlan said.

“Where is he going?” she asked, worry nipping at her
stomach. She watched him weave through the trees. In a blink, he and his mount
disappeared.

A jolt of fear hit her in the chest. She yanked her
reins, and dug in her heels. “Quinlan,” she urged. “Help him!”

“Ailyn, he’s gone. You’ll not find him, lass.”
Groaning, Quinlan followed her. “He is safe as a babe, Ailyn. Stop.”

His stallion reached pace with hers. When she shook
her head, refusing to stop, he leaned over and snatched her reins from her. Her
mare complied, slowing, then stopping alongside his mount. Ailyn’s heart,
however, only beat faster.

“Where has he gone? He disappeared. Did you not see
him vanish?”

“Aye, he warned me of as much. We canno’ join him. He
bade me swear it. He’s out to replace what was taken. Apparently, you’ll be
needing the pages to locate the stones.”

“He told you.”

“He shared what he could and vowed to share more once
he had the pages to guide him.”

Ailyn’s lingering frustration spiked. “Domineering and
evasive is what you are. The whole mortal lot of you!” She took back her reins
and steered her mare about. She didna need his help to find the clearing. And
she certainly would not have him leading.

Behind her, Quinlan chuckled—a low, deep sound
that sent prickles up her back. She gritted her teeth. Amused, was he? She
clucked her tongue, urging her mare faster. Let him laugh. They’d be seeing how
amused he was once he got a bit of icy silence.

Aye, that is just what she would do—keep her
mouth shut unless and until he explained where Daniel had disappeared to, and
exactly why. Let him rot in the meantime.

~

The clearing came into view as the last bits of day
began to fade. The scent of sweetgrass and pine met his nose as he reined in
his stallion and dismounted. The small pool along the north side begged for a
toe to be dipped in. The pool exhibited a sacred stone statue of the goddess
Brigit. Another uncomfortable similarity between their two worlds.

When Quinlan took her reins and offered a hand to help
her down, Ailyn glowered at him. She refused his help, not surprisingly. He’d
feel the same way were he in her position. A stranger in a foreign place,
forced to accept help, and feeling in the dark. He’d do quite a bit more than
shut his mouth and glare.

But females enjoyed their silent punishments. Brought
up with two of the best, he could go hours without conversation. In many ways,
he welcomed it. Danny had shared a lot to digest.

“I
must
locate those pages, Quinlan,” Danny had insisted. “We’re lost without them. My
memory simply won’t hold the pieces of the puzzle on its own.”

“How can you possibly get them back? We aren’t sure
who took them, let alone where the thief absconded to.” Quinlan didn’t like the
idea of Danny going anywhere on his own. Aye, he was maturing, but he had so
much more life to live. So much more of his innocence was still visible. He had
a duty to Ailyn now, and to Breanne. This was her brother. She would want him
to look after the young man where he could.

But Danny had worn him down well. To the point that
Quinlan couldn’t argue the logic. Danny promised that it was a matter of
returning to the originals he had copied and focusing on the essential few.
Many of the pages filled in the gaps of the story itself, and now that Danny
had done so much research, he could narrow down the bulk to only the most
needful few.

He wouldn’t go into detail, though. Danny wouldn’t
share the story itself. There wasn’t time.

Danny would return by dawn. They would then reach the
Giant’s Causeway, retrieve the first of three stones, the bloodstone, and Ailyn
would have what she needed to open the portal that would allow her to pass back
through to her world.

The site was left for good future use. Danny had a
stone-ringed pit for a fire, firewood, peat moss, and twine to spin around a
stick to light a good-sized fire. Despite her silence, Ailyn immediately
helped, unpacking supplies, setting out the blankets, and tethering the horses
near the small pool while Quinlan focused on the fire.

The dense trees offered a deceptively safe feeling.
Quinlan mentally noted to not be fooled by them. If he was to believe Danny,
and he had no other recourse at this point, considering Ailyn’s demonstration,
then he was at the mercy of true magick.

How could he protect her from something he knew
nothing of?

He pulled the edge of twine, making the stick spin
hotly on the peat. Smoke tendrils wafted upward, filling his nostrils with the
distinctive scent—a scent so different from that of the rite. Had that
rite drawn Ailyn into this world somehow? Had it opened the portal Danny
referred to? There was a connection there. Had to be. But how?

A flame licked to life as he blew on the tiny sparks.
Each breath brought it higher. He thought of Breanne’s tallow, lit in the
rainstorm. He thought of dark, wet nights spent aching and numb after battling
alongside his fellow northern clans for a cause he believed in, yet never felt
quite enough to carry him through.

The fires set upon fallen men. Noble, aye, but to what
end?

A chunk of dried meat popped into his vision. Ailyn
was handing him the food. Quinlan shook off the memories and suppressed a grin
over her obvious temper with him. She wore it like a mantle, letting her ire be
shown in every gesture and huff.

He knew better than to take the bait.

He chewed quietly, stoking the flames and setting back
on a nearby rock. He was cruel to torture her. She only wanted answers. As
would he. Still, if a test of wills was what she was after, she’d lose. He’d
been trained by the best—Breanne and Rose.

Ailyn chewed, too. She ate a healthy bit, keeping her
eyes on the fire. Then she dusted off her hands and slowly unbound her hair.
Darkness fell around them save the light of the fire. With it, her anger with
him, and likely her whole situation, seemed to recede. She fingered through her
hair, deep in thought and looking rather serene.

Her lips were quite pink.

Were they always so pink?

Likely the dark and the fire making them appear so
lush and rosy. As though she’d been thoroughly kissed. Fae. A faerie then, was
that it? And Maera. Those wings had been no Samhain garb. They’d not come from
the rite at all. The blood on them had been real—nearly as much on her as
there’d been in that room.

Something akin to anger crept through him. She looked
so vulnerable sitting there watching the fire, worrying at her lower lip just a
bit, frowning, catching herself doing so and visibly arching her brows against
it.

He had the unwelcome urge to go to her. To sit next to
her, to tell her whatever foe or fate arrived, she’d not have to face it alone.

He would face it with her.

Certainly if he could slash at the yoke of tyrannical
rule that had yet to reach his home shores, he could align himself to her
cause.

He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say, but the desire
to say something overtook him. “Ailyn?”

Glittering with triumph, her eyes met his. “
Marbhsháinn
.”

His mind hunted for the
literal translation, though he could guess exactly what she meant when her
eyebrows flashed and a wide grin broke over her face. Quinlan snorted. “You
win, d’you? Is that it?”

A deep, throaty laugh
escaped her. Her head fell back with it and she clutched her stomach.

“Oh, aye, laugh whilst you
can, love.” He tossed another chunk of wood onto the fire and gave her credit.
She’d held her tongue until he’d conceded. Quinlan had to laugh as well,
releasing a low chuckle. Och, but the boyish ways this woman brought out in
him. “We’ll see who can hold out longest the next time.”

Ailyn wiped at her eyes.
“Aye, we’ll see about that, to be sure.”

“You’ll not find me a
fountain of information simply because you outlasted me, you ken.”

She shrugged. “I’d like
answers, aye, but I realized you likely have none. So why waste my wits getting
irked over you hoarding that which you dinna truly have to begin with?”

Quinlan gritted his teeth.
She was right, of course. “Danny’s replacing the pages the thief took.”

She nodded. “He vanished
into the wood.”

Drawing his eyebrows up, he
nodded. “Aye.”

“To where?”

“I dinna ken.”

She looked away a long
moment. “I suspect I know where.”

Understanding seeped in.
“You dinna wish to be here, d’you, Ailyn? Is that it? You’d go home if you
could?”

Her chin notched up. “I’d
like to at least know whether it was an option.”

“Having a choice in your
fate matters.”

Eyes downcast, she slowly
nodded, sending an ache into his heart. Again, he wanted to sit beside her and
vow things he could not vow. Quinlan stayed put, knowing better than to follow the
urge. “Well, I canno’ answer that question. Only Danny can. What I can do is
tell you that I believe he will rejoin us at dawn, just as he swore.”