Authors: Clover Autrey
Tags: #romance, #magic, #scotland, #historical romance, #time travel, #highlander, #captive, #romance historical, #magic adventure, #scotland fantasy paranormal supernatural fairies, #highlander romance
"Soft, you," Col's voice whispered
close to his ear. "We have ye." Col? 'Twas too much. They could not
be here. They could not, but he was desperate to believe it. He let
his forehead fall onto Col's shoulder. It felt so solid and
real.
"Can ye get the bands off or no?" Col's
tone tipped with impatience, so like Col.
"I'm trying," Edeen muttered and Toren
grinned despite that they were concoctions of his fevered
mind.
Soft phrases, powerful spell words he
couldn't quite focus on stirred around his skin. Edeen's words
floated like pale blue runes across his vision. The bands heated
around his wrists, the telltale needling of a powerful spell being
unwoven.
"'Tis not working," Edeen cried. Of
course she could not unbind the spell. She was not real.
The heat intensified and all at once
Toren's arms released from the wall and dropped. He cried out at
the abrupt pain the sudden movement caused.
"The bands are still on him." Col
shifted him higher in his arms and his broken ribs protested in
agony too sharp to utter. The lad bore the whole of his weight,
which Toren thought was fairly impressive for a conjured imagining.
"Aldreth will still retain a hold on him."
"At least he's off the
wall."
"Worry about those later," the healer
voiced. "Let's just get him out of here."
Apparently they were all in agreement
for Col asked, "Are ye able to walk?"
Nay, he was certain he could not,
though Toren nodded in the affirmative.
Col jostled him around to his side,
drawing his stiff arm across his shoulders while he felt Col's
other arm slide behind his back and grab onto the ragged tartan at
hip. Toren's opposite arm lifted and a smaller softer shoulder
nudged up into his armpit as the healer pressed her body to his
side, cool hands against his heated chest and back as though she
was ready to balance him whether he swayed forward or
back.
And then they were moving and he
realized how large of a lie he had told since his legs yielded no
cooperation at all.
The tops of his bare feet dragged
across the uneven stone floor.
"Right, then." Col bent, dragging Toren
with him until his stomach hit the lad's shoulders and his feet
lifted off the ground.
Toren cried out in anguish, his arms
and legs dangling.
"Ye've hurt him worse," Edeen
cried.
"Put him down. Let me heal
him."
The little healer
, though all he could see of either lass were the bottom of
their skirts swishing around Col's boots.
"Remember ye cannot. Not in here. The
witch will sense it." And Col started moving.
It was one of those jostling
try-to-remain-conscious-under-a-horrific-amount-of-pain ordeals
that Toren wasn't quite certain he could remain awake for. The dark
floor blurred by with the slapping of boots on stone that echoed in
and out of his awareness.
Chapter
Seventeen
The ethereal Fae stared hard at Shaw.
He felt the knowing eyes bore into him like an auger. Shaw stared
determinedly at the enormous stone carving, which resembled
Gilfillon so strikingly, sharp nose, long sloping eyes, he may as
well just turn to the lithe Fae's scrutiny.
Heartsick, he looked instead to the
last remaining cluster of his people who awaited their turn to slip
through the shimmery veil that led to the Shadowrood.
They gazed at the luminous gateway,
young and old alike, with their spines straight. Many clutched
meager belongings or herded goats and sheep through the passage.
Pride in his people streamed through his veins.
They had been prepared for this, knew
it was a possibility once it became known the Witch of Alduein had
taken Toren.
A proud people, Clan Limont understood
their duties to earth and magic and what would happen if the
darkness overcame the clan with each of their unique gifts and
traits, as a whole.
A small boy tugged on his mother's arm,
cheeks wet with tears. "Nay, mam. I dinna want to go. I want to
stay here."
Another ache bruised Shaw's heart. He
was the leader who forced children from their homes.
Gilfillan's hand curled over his
shoulder. "Ye're choosing the right path. 'Tis a law of nature. All
things eventually run their course. Men's hearts are once again
turning to greed and war. The time of greater magic within your
world is at an end. Come little brother, relinquish your burden and
be at peace." The Fae smiled gently, turning Shaw toward the
glimmering gateway where less than a handful of people remained.
Donnan met his gaze, his features resolved. The old warrior had not
been able to reach Edeen and Col in time.
"Come, brother."
But Gilfillon was not his brother.
Shaw's heart shredded beneath a grief so profound his chest felt
like a beast had clawed it open.
"Come."
"In a moment," Shaw snarled, his chest
heaving, then quieter: "In a moment." This was right. He was never
more sure of anything. But to leave his entire family…? And to the
devices of destructive witch. He had saved his people, but gods, at
what price? Col’s and Edeen’s faces swam before his
vision.
The Fae nodded, let his hand drop and
looked out into the surrounding forest. "Ye have your moment.
Treasure it well for we cannot risk leaving the gateway vulnerable
to even the small amount of darkness that will arise at Toren’s
final turning. Once ye pass through, Shaw Limont, we Elders will
seal the Shadowrood forever closed.”
Chapter
Eighteen
Charity ran through the dark corridors
alongside Col and Edeen. Across Col's shoulder, Toren's limbs
swayed with each of the young warrior's running steps. She worried
the harsh movement could force a broken rib to stab up into a lung.
She'd healed his two broken ribs the first time, but hadn't healed
him again when she'd traveled back and changed the timeline. So she
knew the exact extent of his injuries. He had to be in immense
pain.
She nearly collided into them when Col
suddenly stopped. They were at the postern door. The guard they'd
knocked out still slumped unclothed in the shadowed corner, but
something else, possibly the guard from the dungeon, had revived
and raised an alarm. Shouts and footfalls echoed across the
stone.
It was a sure bet Aldreth would be
testing tendrils of any spells she had running in the castle. The
spell for the magical barrier would be first as the witch searched
for the slightest hitch in the invisible wall. Charity wondered how
long it would take for Aldreth to test every strand of her
spell-casting.
Crouching, Col pulled Toren from his
shoulders and lowered him onto the floor where Edeen and Charity
both held the unconscious man's head and shoulders off the
stone.
"Ye'll have to drag him out." Col
shoved the door open and immediately started to shift. His
beautiful dazzling light form glowed even brighter within the
corridors humid gloom. Expanding, the light floated into the
doorway, sparking and sizzling where Col, as pure energy, must be
touching and pushing against the weave of Aldreth's spell they
couldn't see.
Col's light form stilled, flickering
wildly. The effort expended to just hold the spell off a bit had to
be enormous.
"Quickly." Getting her arms beneath
Toren's shoulder, Edeen started dragging him.
Charity grabbed him from the other side
and together they hauled him backwards, across the
floor.
Magic vibrated across Charity's back,
thick and cold—almost painful, different from when they'd first
entered this way. The presence and personality of Col was gone or
far buried, yet they pulled Toren in with them.
Sight and sound dispersed, buried
beneath blinding pulsating humming light.
Charity stepped backward or tried to.
She could still feel the weight of Toren dragging against her
hands, could still sense Edeen beside her, yet they weren't
moving.
Stuck. Trapped.
She screamed to keep going, but her
voice was snatched away within the humming vibration.
If Aldreth didn't know where in the
castle they were before, there was no way the witch wasn’t aware of
them now. It had to be her attempting to trap them within her
spell.
She heaved back again, straining to
bring Toren and Edeen with her. She would not give up.
Suddenly Col was there, his presence
like a candle flame warming her hand, somehow straining with
her.
The white atmosphere groaned, shuddered
and tilted like a box knocked to its side and all at once they were
sliding, falling…
Charity, Toren, and Edeen slopped out
of the door like sludge dripping from a sewer pipe.
They sprawled across the kitchen
garbage and grassy weeds. Men shouted in the distance. Toren's head
rolled to the side. His eyes opened and then squinted against the
brightness of outdoors, though it was growing toward
dusk.
Edeen rose up on her arms and screamed.
"Col!"
His light form still stretched across
the doorway was diminished and weak. The charged air crackled,
spitting out wisps of sparks as Aldreth's spell closed in on Col
and the light collapsed.
Col materialized, naked, light spitting
and sizzling around him. Slumping forward, he dropped to the
ground.
"Col." Edeen lunged toward him. The
shouting grew closer. Charity's head snapped up. They had to get
out of here. She tapped Toren's face.
"Get up, get up."
His disoriented gaze tracked across the
castle wall.
Slipping her hand behind his neck, she
pulled his head up and shouted in his face. "Get up! Your family
needs you."
His gaze finally landed on her, glassy
and confused, though he nodded. The heat coming off his skin was
tremendous. Charity pushed him upward, wincing at the tremor that
rolled through him from simply getting in an upright seated
position. She wished she had the time to heal him, even a little
bit, but the guards were coming.
Toren pressed his arms around his
stomach.
Edeen wasn't making much more progress
with Col. The young man was awake, pressing his hand to his head
while Edeen coaxed him up.
A couple of guards came around the
corner of the castle. Crap. Crap. Crap.
"On your feet. Now," Charity ground
out. They hadn't gotten this far to let the guardsmen capture
them.
Toren's lips twitched and head still
hanging, he nodded, but at least one arm moved from his stomach to
steady himself on the ground and push upward.
“
Now!” Charity helped as
best she could, hauling him upward until he gained his feet and
immediately listed sideways. Shoving herself against his side, she
managed to keep him upright. Barely. “Move it Limont!”
She pulled him toward the tree line. It
worried her a little that he went so complacently, a testament to
how much pain he was likely in, but at least he was on his feet and
moving.
She spared a glance to see how Edeen
fared with Col, relieved that they too were heading for the cover
of the forest. Edeen bent low, bringing Col with her to scoop up
the pile of clothing they'd left beneath the bushes. Not taking the
time to clothe him, she held the bundle to her chest, her other arm
wrapped around her brother’s waist as they hurried into the cover
of the trees.
The guardsmen were coming, at least
four of them she could see. More would soon join them as they
shouted that they’d spotted them.
Their progress was difficult, made
worse as Edeen guided them into the thicker areas of woods where
sometimes the trees were so large and close, Charity lost sight of
Col and Edeen altogether.
She also couldn’t see any of the guards
that had surely followed them into the forest. This was stupid.
They’d never be able to lug the guys faster than the guards. They
had to stop, hide somewhere, so she could heal them.
Which meant she’d be sick and dizzy
after a healing, but even so, one of the guys could cart her around
a lot easier than she could either of them. Of course there was the
very real possibility Toren just might leave her there. He thought
she was working for Aldreth.
Toren leaned heavily against her, his
feet barely shuffling through the fallen leaves and pine needles.
His head hung low, resting on hers, flopping slightly with each
step.
It was hard to tell if going into the
darker part of the forest gave them an advantage or not. Sometimes
it seemed the shouts of pursuit moved farther away, yet other times
it sounded as though the guardsmen were suddenly right upon them
and Charity's heart sped up.
Col seemed to rouse a bit, walking
steadier. He'd managed to wrap his kilt around his
waist.
“
We need to stop. We can’t
keep going like this,” she called to Edeen when they came near
enough.