“Back in the mists of time, the Fae originally ruled the lands covering the entire Earthly Realm,” Ninian murmured in a solemn voice. “Back then, Faeries were known as Tuatha Dé Danann, and we were all powerful. When otherworldly beings rose up against us, and then the humans, we withdrew to the sidhe, or what humans refer to as Faery mounds.
“The gods gave us many treasures for safekeeping, which we guard with our lives. They also gave us three powerful weapons as protection. Manannan mac Lir, the god of the seas, gave us the two-bladed sword named Fragarach. Mac ind Óg, the god of youth, gave us Gáe Derg, a red spear that can destroy magic of all kinds. Dagda, the father of all Faery folk, gave us Uaithne, a magical harp. It will defeat all manner of demons and evil.”
Ninian rocked back on his heels and glanced up at Lizzie and Kincaid, his green eyes burning with an inner fire. “Uaithne is the weapon you must use to defeat the banshees bedeviling the Earthly Realm called Wysteria. When Uaithne has finished the task, it will return itself to where it belongs.”
Kincaid hunkered down next to Ninian. “Where can we find this great weapon?”
“It is housed in the tombs located beneath the Hag’s Mountain. You must enter at sunrise. Only then will rays of sunshine illuminate the passageway leading to Uaithne’s location.”
“Where is this place?” Kincaid asked.
“And how long will it take to get there?” Lizzie wanted to know.
“In the northeast territories of Gorias. It’s a one day’s ride from here.”
Kincaid glanced over at Lizzie, noting how she twisted her hands. She must be as frustrated as him by the idea of another journey.
“There’s one more thing,” Ninian added. With a sweep of his hand, he collected the bones and deposited them back in the purple bag. Then he rose to his feet.
Kincaid stood up beside him. “What?”
“Only those with untainted hearts may use the harp,” Ninian said. “Both of you must participate in a purification ceremony before you can take possession of Uaithne.”
“Can we do it right now?” Lizzie asked.
Ninian nodded. “Yes. I have told you all the spirits will allow at this time. Leave me so I can prepare for the ritual. King Aedh will tell you what you must do to ready yourselves.”
The soothsayer waved a dismissive hand.
Kincaid gestured to Lizzie, and they left the chamber. Neither spoke as they descended a narrow stone staircase. At the bottom, they stood side by side in a wide hallway lined with rich tapestries, strangely shaped marble vases in vivid hues, and rich carpets.
King Aedh came around a corner, an anxious expression on his face. “What did Ninian tell you?”
“He said the magical harp called Uaithne can defeat the banshees,” Kincaid said. “He said it’s in the Hag’s Mountain. How do we find that?”
“No worries,” King Aedh said. “I’ll supply you with a special compass that will show you the way. Did Ninian mention a purification ritual?”
Kincaid nodded. “He said he can perform it straightaway. Afterward, Lizzie and I can be on our way.”
“Night will fall soon, and that’s when dangerous creatures roam the forest to feed,” King Aedh warned. “It will be safer for you to leave first thing in the morning.”
Lizzie made a disappointed sound, but appeared resolved to abide by the advice.
“Very well,” Kincaid agreed. He wasn’t happy with yet another delay, but he trusted the king’s judgment.
“My daughter can advise you how to prepare for the ritual.” King Aedh clapped, and a lovely young woman appeared. Like the king, she possessed a tall, regal bearing. Her dark hair hung in a single braid down her back, and the tips of her pointed ears seemed even more pronounced than her father’s. She gave a brief curtsey, then straightened.
When she looked at Kincaid, he noticed how her gold brocade gown hugged her shapely form. He also noticed how her limpid green eyes seemed to entreat him. Something stirred in his belly.
With a start, he realized he’d met her when he’d cleared the castle of its haunting. They’d flirted a bit while he’d stayed in Doros Wood, but nothing beyond that. Yet, he sensed she had wanted more then, and still wished for it even now.
“Greetings, Princess Cait. It’s been a long time since we last visited.” He took her hand and kissed the back of it.
“Indeed, Spirit Wulver, it has been ages since you last trod these halls.” A smile lit up her face, making it lovelier than ever. “It’s pleasant to see you again.”
Lizzie cleared her throat. Giving her a sidelong glance, Kincaid noted her troubled expression. Her somber gaze indicated she’d also noticed Princess Cait’s lingering stare at him.
“Oh, yes, and this is my friend, Lizzie Rose,” he quickly interjected. “She came with me to Doros Wood to consult your father about eradicating a banshee swarm that’s holding her coven hostage.”
“Hello, Lizzie.” Cait shook Lizzie’s hand. “I’m sorry for your trouble. Banshees are hideous creatures, are they not?”
“It’s nice to meet you, Princess Cait,” Lizzie said, her eyes narrowed with what appeared to be suspicion. “And yes, I agree with you, banshees are hideous.”
Despite Cait’s friendliness, Lizzie still behaved with a cool manner. How intriguing, he thought. Not so long ago she’d sworn she didn’t want anything to do with him. Yet her demeanor hinted otherwise. He started to grin, then pressed his lips back in place. Now wasn’t the time to gloat, though it did feel good to think about two women wanting him.
Turning to Kincaid, Cait asked, “Did you get the information you need to defeat the banshees?”
“Aye,” he told her.
King Aedh patted his daughter’s shoulder. “Please take Lizzie and Kincaid to their rooms. Then send a message to the wood nymphs to prepare Rainbow Glen for a purification ceremony.”
“Of course, Father.” She turned to Kincaid and Lizzie. “Come with me.”
Gathering her skirts in one hand, the princess swept down the hallway toward a bank of doors.
Kincaid tried to take Lizzie’s elbow as they followed the princess, but she jerked it out of his grasp and gave him a sharp look. Imps of hell, he’d swear that gleam in her eyes meant she was jealous.
The concept baffled his mind. If Lizzie didn’t want him, why would she give a damn about another woman being interested? It made no sense. Then again, perhaps it did. A grin teased his lips as he considered the surprising situation.
Women!
Every last one of them was mysterious and baffling. By all that was sacred, Lizzie confused the hell out of him. What should he expect from her next?
When Princess Cait reached two arched doors located side by side, she stopped and pointed toward one. “Lizzie, you can use this room to get ready. Kincaid, the other is yours. Inside you’ll find wardrobes with the robes and slippers you’ll need to wear. I’ll fetch you for the ceremony when all is ready.”
Kincaid watched her leave, noting how her hips swayed. Princess Cait possessed matchless beauty. She still appealed to him, but did not have the same effect on him as Lizzie.
Lizzie punched his arm.
Rubbing it, he turned and looked at her. “What?”
“Your eyes will fall out if you continue ogling the princess.”
“I was’na doin’ such a thing.”
“Yes, you were. Now put your tongue back in your mouth before you drool all over yourself.”
This time, Kincaid couldn’t prevent a grin from spreading across his face. “Nothing ever happened between the princess and me, if that is what’s worryin’ you.”
“I can’t imagine why you’d think I give a hoot,” she told him. She reached to open the door to her room.
“Wait,” he said.
She turned and lifted a brow, impatiently tapping her toe. “What?”
He cupped the side of her face, his hand tingling at the sensation of her soft skin against his rough palm. “I know you’re uneasy about
going on another journey.”
She pushed his hand away. “I just hope this Faery weapon, Uaithne, will defeat Sorcha’s swarm. Otherwise, all of this will be for nothing.”
Kincaid didn’t answer. He knew, all too well, that she spoke the truth.
Chapter Seventeen
Lizzie entered her room and closed the door. She leaned against the carved wood entrance, took a deep breath, and mentally prepared herself for yet one more delay.
Participating in a purification ceremony.
It seemed like a huge waste of time. If this magical harp, Uaithne, was so perceptive, wouldn’t it simply know how desperately she and Kincaid needed its help to rescue her coven from the banshees?
When she envisioned her family and coven being held hostage, it chilled her to the bone. She cursed her inability to get rid of the banshees without Kincaid’s help.
Nature spirits, protect my clan as they suffer in limbo.
As if worrying about the trouble back home wasn’t enough, something new now taunted her. She considered the way Cait had eyed Kincaid, as though undressing him with her eyes. The beautiful princess had given him the appreciative glance a woman would bestow upon her lover. Angry heat lanced through her chest, and envy stirred in her belly.
Part of her insisted she shouldn’t care. So what if Kincaid had a fling with Princess Cait long ago? It was none of her business. Still, another part of her prickled with resentment.
“Stinking bat’s breath, am I jealous?”
Cheeks burning, she decided she’d better leave the concept dead and buried where it belonged. Kincaid didn’t want her. Besides, they came from two completely different worlds. They were too different, and he’d made it clear he’d never settle down or change the way he led his life.
Quit dawdling.
Crossing the room, which held a bed, a dresser, and comfortable wing chairs, she reached the wardrobe. She pressed her hand against the highly polished wood carved with intricate rosettes and curlicues. Someone had put a lot of love into making this piece of furniture. Opening the double doors, she spotted a silken white robe covered with golden embroidered Celtic circles. On the cupboard floor rested a pair of matching slippers.
Lizzie reached for one and examined it. The pattern seemed familiar. She recalled seeing it on scarves, blankets, and other items when she and her family lived in Scotland. The golden circles were sacred. They represented balance and symbolized the four elements; earth, water, fire, and air.
“I hope this doesn’t take long,” Lizzie murmured to the empty room. It was bad enough they couldn’t leave until tomorrow. The idea of a long, boring ordeal did not appeal to her.
Quickly, she removed her soiled clothing and boots, then slipped on the robe. As she belted the sash, she placed her feet inside the slippers. The entire outfit felt heavenly, and the soft material moved against her skin with a luxuriant sensation.
“Mmm,” she said, closing her eyes in order to savor the moment. She thought about Kincaid in the next room getting ready. She imagined his broad shoulders and his muscled abdomen. She recalled his gentle love making, and how his mouth pressed against hers with each amazing kiss.
Her nerve endings flared with electric sparks, and an ache spread through her stomach. It was wrong to want him, nevertheless, she longed to be in his arms. Madness! The famous Spirit Wulver would never settle down. He didn’t lead a life that could include a wife and family.
She knew the two of them didn’t have a future, yet she yearned for one. Love made a person want impossible things.
Love?
Though she’d known it all along in her heart, her mind finally accepted that she loved Kincaid. It was unexpected to discover that, and troubling. What had gotten into her? The man was impossible and stubborn.
He’d turned her life upside when he’d left her. Now that she understood the reasons he’d done it, she realized he’d only meant to spare her grief. Unfortunately, the idea that he’d cared that much about her made her want him even more. Great Goddess, no good would come from her wild thoughts.
Kincaid didn’t love her. How could he? It wasn’t in his nature.
Closing her eyes, she envisioned a golden shimmer of warm sunshine that would cleanse her soul and ease her troubled mind.
Touch my spirit and give me peace, oh Goddess of light. I will do my best to understand and accept the realities; I will do my best to appreciate thy bountiful blessings. Extend thy grace so I may have the strength to finish this journey and free my coven.
The prayer worked and she felt her unease dissipate. Warmth filled her, and she realized the Goddess now offered her comfort.
A horrible shriek rattled the walls, jolting her from her reverie. Her skin prickled with alarm.
Aaaaaawooooooo…
Sons of Methuselah. Had a banshee managed to slip undetected inside Doros Wood?
Her eyelids flew open and she noted, with growing horror, blue-gray smoke slipping beneath a window frame. It curled, like a poisonous serpent, over the sill and down the wall. It didn’t take long before a cloud of smoke formed over her head. Barely a second later, it transformed into one of the disgusting hags bearing skeletal features, ragged clothing flapping about its wraithlike form.
She started to scream, but found herself unable to utter a sound. A flash of light caught her eye, and she spotted the arc of a sharp, silvery steel blade as it plunged toward her. Instinctively she jumped away from the killing blow.
Cackling with laughter, the banshee hugged her to its bony, hollow chest and wrapped its arms around her. Lizzie coughed and gagged at the creature’s foul, cloying stench, like that of a rotting corpse. Her stomach churned, and she felt nauseous. As if bands of steel secured her, she couldn’t budge.
She twisted one way, then another. Nothing helped. Try as she might, she couldn’t wriggle free from the creature’s grasp. She tried to cry out again, but found her vocal chords frozen.
I’m a goner, she thought. I can’t move, and I can’t defend myself with a spell of protection.
Though she continued to squirm, the banshee drew her arms over her head with one strong hand. Perspiration dampened her brow and she tried to fight against the creature’s superhuman strength.
It’s no use, she thought in desperation. I’m hosed.
“Nunkatke imashtu,” the banshee snarled as it pressed the knife against her throat. “Today is your last one in this world, witch. I will eat your heart. Now you will never succeed in freeing your coven.”
The banshee leaned closer, its gaping mouth opened in a spectral grin. Its fetid, hot breath brushed against Lizzie’s cheeks. She whimpered and tried to kick her legs, but realized her struggles were useless. The creature bore down even harder on her and her breaths came in ragged gasps. Lizzie’s mind clicked rapidly with agonized thoughts.
Do something. Quick! Or you’re going to wind up being Ursula’s sidekick up in the Great Beyond.
Lack of oxygen made her light-headed. Her surroundings began to fade. Random thoughts swam through her tortured mind. She envisioned her tombstone poking up from the rose garden next to her family’s mansion.
Here lies Lizzie, squeezed to death by a banshee.
The banshee transformed into a giant gray bird, and its gleaming knife turned into a beak, its trajectory poised for the most damage. The creature held it high above her head and aimed it directly toward her heart. As her vision faded, Lizzie finally managed to cry out.
***
“What the hell?” Kincaid leapt to his feet when he heard Lizzie scream, then a subsequent thump.
He sniffed the air. An unmistakable banshee stench tainted it. His stomach twisted. How the hell had those bitches tracked them here?
Lizzie’s in trouble.
His fingers curled around the ceremonial robe clenched in his hands. Growling, he tossed the clothing aside and flung open the door of his room. Bands of hair rippled around his bare arms, legs, and naked torso. Blood hammered in his ears. His nails becam
e elongated and bones crunched as he began the transformation.
Roaring with anger, he charged into the hallway. Lizzie’s door appeared in his blue-hazed vision, and he slammed his large furry body against the wood.
I have to save her; I have to save her…
The weight of his massive canine form caused the carved panels to crack and groan. Crazed with worry for Lizzie, he continued to batter away at the barrier. Eventually it gave way and timbers splintered across the floor. He leapt inside and stormed across the ruined threshold, barely feeling the wood slivers wedging into his paws.
The sound of chirping noises alerted him. Pricking his ears, he swung his head toward the window. A large, ugly bird with gray plumage clutched Lizzie’s limp form. Lowering its oddly-shaped green and yellow head, it appeared ready to stab her with its sharp beak.
With a guttural growl, Kincaid leapt toward the creature. He grabbed it by the neck with his mighty jaws and yanked it off Lizzie, who slumped to the floor. Enraged shrieks and sputters issued from the bird as he shook it back and forth until he heard bones snap. Then he flung it across the floor, satisfied as it impacted with the decorative marble tiles.
When its head slammed against the wall, it finally went limp. Sprawled in a heap of ruffled feathers, the ugly bird’s beak hung open. Its pink tongue snaked from its jaws and flopped across the floor. To make sure he’d disposed of the creature, he jumped on top of the carcass, pressed his paws against its chest, and sank his jaws into its exposed breast. As he ripped it open, blood gushed forth, and he felt the creature’s life force slip away.
Snarling, he hopped off the carcass, lifted his leg and peed on the foul beast. Then he lifted his shaggy head, tilted it back and released a long howl. Exhilaration rushed through him at the success of his kill, and the fact that he’d saved the woman he loved from certain death.
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