Sinclair appeared out of the crowd with tears streaming down his face. He pumped Fergus arm off his shoulder. Faing Douglas hugged Hazel. Everybody wanted to shake hands with the honored couple. The scene blurred before Fergus’s eyes in a frenzy of food, happiness, and merriment that lasted long into the night.
Chapter 30
Hazel woke in the middle of the night and stared up at the ceiling. She didn’t move, but tension stretched her to the breaking point. Fergus breathed in exhausted slumber at his side. The smooth curve of his muscled shoulders and chest rose and fell in easy breath.
This was it. This was the moment she sensed creeping up on her ever since she left Loch Nagar. She dared not tell Fergus this was coming. That would only worry him. He paid special attention to her since she won control over her power, but she couldn’t let him see this.
Whether he divined it or not, she couldn’t tell. He gave no indication he saw it coming, but she never entertained any doubts. She hadn’t fought the final battle yet. Now here it was. She couldn’t be more certain of anything.
Her eyes searched the dark, but she didn’t see anything. Where would it come from? What form would it take? Did she possess enough power to defeat it? She dared not even shudder for fear of disturbing Fergus.
She tried to ease out of bed, but his arm tightened around her waist. He hugged her in against him, and she rolled onto her side. She slotted her back and hips against him and snuggled into his arms. She couldn’t avoid this fight by soothing him. It would find her, one way or the other.
She clamped her eyes closed—not to get away from it, but to steady her nerves. Her power roiled and churned inside her. It built up pressure to break out, but she wouldn’t lose control the way she did before. This power belonged to her. She could wield it any way she chose. She could smash and destroy. She could heal. She could build and mend and correct, according to her own whims.
Her eyes snapped open, but she no longer saw the room around her. She stared at the Phoenix Throne standing tall and gleaming black before her eyes. She still wore her gown from the wedding assembly, along with the tear-drop ruby the King gave her and the Cameron crest medallion from Sinclair.
She glanced around the deserted Throne room. Where was Angus? She didn’t have to ask that question. She already knew.
She strode out of the Throne room, through the entrance foyer she knew so well, and out into the bright sunshine. She crossed the drawbridge into the open plains. Black specks dotted the fresh tall grass. Some charged around on horseback. Others ran on foot. A grinning skull leered out from under every black hood, but she didn’t see any Urlus around. She saw no one but Burgees as far as the eye could see. What did it mean?
The instant Hazel appeared, they all stopped what they were doing. Their weapons dropped to their sides, and they all turned around to stare at her in silent wonder. She never hesitated. She walked up to the first Burgee. He stared out at her from his empty eye sockets.
She lifted her hand and swept his hood off his bare skull. At that instant, the skeleton collapsed in powder at her feet. A plume of white powder accompanied the transformation, and the sword dropped out of his hand. It hit the ground, and the black hooded cape fluttered onto the grass.
She walked from one Burgee to the next. She pushed back their hoods, and they vaporized before her eyes. They became nothing, and the breeze blew the powdered bone away. It caught up their hoods and lifted them into the sky. The fabric flapped far and away on updrafts and disappeared.
Hazel climbed the far hill up to the ridge before she found the last Burgee standing still and harmless. She dispelled that one, too. Then she turned around to gaze back at her home castle. The Burgees and the shades of Loch Nagar would never disturb Hazel or her people again, but the battle wasn’t over yet. One more detail remained to settle.
She turned her back on the Urlu castle. She would see it again soon enough, and when that happened, she would never leave it as long as she lived. Urlu would be her home. She marched over the ridge where those ghouls attacked. She headed into the mountains, but she didn’t shift. She hiked far into the mountains until the castle disappeared from sight.
The sun crossed the sky, but she kept pushing. She wouldn’t stop, and she wouldn’t return until she finished what she started. She crossed passes and gullies she never saw before. She struggled over howling summits where the wind ripped tears from her eyes. She plunged down the other side, down, down into the deepest valleys.
At last, she spotted the lake. She crisscrossed the hillsides until she stopped opposite the cabin. How calm and tranquil it appeared. No one would ever guess it could act as the epicenter of such catastrophic forces, but it did.
She hesitated to go in there now for fear of what she would find, but she learned a long time ago not to shrink from this fight. She circled the lake until she came to the steps. She let herself in and shut the door on the peaceful stillness.
She tiptoed up the stairs. There sat the bed as bare as she left it. The smoky smell no longer lingered in the air. Now a dusty, unused smell filled the attic. No one lived here. No one could live here without a place to rest.
She took a deep breath. This was where she would make her stand. She couldn’t return to the world until she did this. She had to.
She closed her eyes and concentrated. Then she opened them and inspected the room until she found a dresser in the corner. She went through the drawers and found what she was looking for. She took out a large flannel sheet. Tiny pink and green roses scattered over its white surface. She spread the sheet over the mattress.
She hunted through the drawers some more and found several stacks of quilt blocks already made up. She arranged them over the white rose sheet until she created the pattern she wanted.
She got the sewing basket from the table and got to work. She pinned the quilt blocks together, threaded a needle, and stuck a thimble on her finger. She brought the rocking chair from downstairs and settled down by the window. She sewed steadily until she joined all the quilt blocks together.
She spread the quilt top over the sheet and stood back to admire her work. It really was a beautiful quilt, but she still had a lot of work to do. Just then, a shadow crossed the window. She looked out to see the sun touch the mountaintop. It sank out of sight and cast the lake into dusk.
She better get going, but she would return. She belonged to this place now, and she would never neglect it the way she did before. She would return here every day until she rebuilt the quilt and made the bed with it. She would maintain this cabin so nothing ever threatened it again.
As she prepared to leave, she spotted a wooden frame in the corner, along with a large hessian sack stuffed with something. She set the frame by the window. It was perfect for quilting, and the sack contained all the stuffing she needed.
She stuck the threaded needle into the pincushion and tucked the thimble away. The whole project waited for her to return. It filled her with satisfaction. She would never finish owning this place and improving it. It gave texture and meaning to her other life.
She gave the attic a last wistful glance before she climbed down the stairs. She hesitated a second time with her hand on the door latch. This place was hers. It was her, and she loved it with all her heart and soul. It gave her a home in the world that not even Fergus could share.
She opened the door, but she paused again when she heard a scuffle in the kitchen corner. A tiny whiskered face poked out, twitched its black nose at her, and retreated out of sight. Hazel narrowed her eyes at the mousehole. So that’s how they got in.
She would never quit fighting them, but at least she knew they were there. They would soon learn someone occupied this house. They would learn to make themselves scarce, once they tasted her wrath. She wouldn’t let them near her quilt again, not after she put so much time and work into it.
She swept the place with one more appraising glance and walked out. She closed the door behind her and stopped on the porch. Evening settle over the lake, a
nd the stars came out. She closed her eyes, and Fergus shifted in his sleep. His arm brushed up her stomach, and she pulled the blanket over her shoulders against the cold.
He buried his face in her neck. He opened his mouth and took a bite of her flesh. His teeth sank into her shoulder, and a sizzle of passion shot through her guts to the nest of desire between her legs.
She backed into him and rubbed his hands down to his fingers. He shuddered once. His breathing told her he was fully awake, but he said nothing. He purred in her ear, and his hot breath sparked her deepest longing. She guided his hands up to her breasts and down to her thighs.
His muscles tensed. He clenched her in his powerful grip, and his flesh swelled against her. He stroked her down her front until she sobbed and mewed at his touch. Aching hunger gnawed her insides to swallow him into herself. She squirmed back on his bulging spike and teased her swollen opening wide to receive it.
He growled into her ear. His fingers tickled her skin to raging lust. Her nerves tingled down to the dripping fissure where he flicked her petals apart. She gyrated her hips and spread her slippery juices over his knob.
He seized her hip and steered her down on his shaft. He jabbed once and withdrew until she cried in desperate need. She wanted him so bad. She lifted his hand from her waist and slipped his fingers into her mouth. She sucked them hard and slithered her tongue around them to drive herself wild.
Fergus’s breath caught in his throat. He snarled in her ear. “Oh, lassie. Oh, fer the love o’ God, yes!”
His tortured voice quickened her fermented ecstasy. She sucked his fingers and rode back against him until she drew him into her engorged channel. Her juices gushed around his rigid shaft, and he plunged to her depths on a silvery highway of glistening sweetness.
He groaned at the tight grip seizing him. His hips moved of their own accord to plow her open. He pushed through seas of wetness to fit into her deepest recesses. He found the secret hiding places to awaken her pleasure until she couldn’t stand it.
She answered him with her own rhythm, and their hips met in a thumping beat to seal them together for all time. She writhed on his intruding hammer. He held her in a white-knuckle grip, and she moaned and whined for more.
Her voice rose to a cry on those blistering penetrations. She couldn’t get enough of him. She longed to reach her epic fulfillment on his manhood, to fill herself with all the tormented aching pleasure she would wring from his flesh. She raised her voice in climactic ecstasy, and she sang a song of joy and happiness.
She put the world right. She rebuilt the quilt and made the cabin a home again. The satisfaction and completion of accomplishing that long-dead mission sent her heart soaring into the stratosphere on wings of glorious desire.
Chapter 31
The Lord High Chamberlain threw back the great doors to let Fergus into the audience hall where the Faery King waited for him. The King broke off his conversation with Errol Buchanan. He strode toward Fergus and seized his hand. “There’s the mon I’m lookin’ fer. Come and join us, lad. I’ve a speck o’ dealin’s wi’ the Folk o’ the Dell this mornin’, and I’ll want ye wi’ me.”
“My apologies, Yer Majesty,” Fergus returned. “I ainly came tae tell ye ’Azel and I’ll be on our way this mornin’. I’ll no be dealin’ wi’ the Folk o’ the Dell nor naught else afore I see me brothers again. ’Azel’s anxious tae be off as weel, so we’ll no take up no more o’ yer time.”
“Me time!” The King stiffened. Then he relaxed. “Ah, weel, I might ha’e kenned this’d come so soon. Ye’ve both been away o’ home too laing as it is. Ye’ll take what horses and supplies ye need from ’ere, I’ll be bound.”
“I think no, Yer Majesty,” Fergus told him. “We’ll fly home.”
The King whipped around, and his eyes flashed. “Eh? Oh, o’ course.”
“’Azel and I wish tae extend our gratitude to ye and yers fer all ye’ve done fer us,” Fergus went on. “We’ll no be strangers laing, and we both mean tae bring Urlu and Faery closer taegether, now that we’re keepin’ an open line o’ communication atween our nations.”
The King shook his hand again. “O’ course, lad. I look forward tae hearin’ from yer brother as soon as ye settle in at home.”
Fergus shook hands with Sinclair and Douglas before he left the audience hall. The friends already bade good-bye to Hazel in the days since their wedding. Nothing remained but to continue their journey until they arrived at their ultimate destination.
Fergus quickened his step down the passage. He headed for the spot he would leave the mound for the world outside. Hazel waited for him up there, and they would fly home in a few minutes. His pulse raced at the thought of flying with Hazel over the landscape, dodging and somersaulting through the clouds and dusting the treetops in their headlong rush to their future life together.
He turned a corner and halted when a shadowy figure clad all in brown appeared tucked behind the wall. Fergus couldn’t see the eyes under the heavy hood. A shiver ran up his spine. He hadn’t spoken to Ross in months, not since the Cameron brothers left their home castle for Urlu in the first place.
Ross glided into the open and approached him. Fergus kept still. The wizard gave him the creeps. He stiffened and waited, but Ross wouldn’t leave without saying something.
“Gang aloft, lad,” Ross growled. “Gang aloft and see what ye find.”
“What would I find?” Fergus asked. “Is she safe?”
“It’s no o’er,” Ross hissed. “The last remnant’s still out there fer her tae settle. She’ll no find release until she does.”
“What is it?” Fergus asked. “Is it the curse?”
“It’s her nightmare.” Ross’s shaggy beard moved when he spoke. No other part of him indicated any sign of life. “She’s livin’ a nightmare, and she’ll no be free until she wakes up.”
“Does she ken it?” Fergus asked. “Does she ken she’s in danger?”
“She’ll no shrink the battle,” Ross replied. “She’ll fight it. She’ll ne’er stop ficthin’ it. That’s her way. She’ll keep taking these assaults until there’s naught else left. That’ll be her whole life. She’as made fer it. She’ll keep challenging her power until she’s done.”
Fergus’s mind raced. He didn’t understand half of what Ross said. He only knew Hazel wasn’t finished yet. Some threat still remained to defeat before she could live in peace. Then again, Ross seemed to be telling him she would never live in peace, that she would always use her power as long as she lived.
“What’s out there?” Fergus asked. “What’ll we find fer her tae settle?”
He knew better than to ask Ross questions like that. Ross already started to move away. “Gang aloft, lad. Gang aloft and see what ye find.”
The wizard disappeared down the passage and left Fergus in a torment of curiosity. What would he find when he and Hazel went aloft to fly home? He understood only one thing. Hazel wasn’t free—not yet. Something waited for them out there, something only Hazel could deal with.
He hesitated to go above ground now. How could he go up there, knowing what he did? How could he break the news to her? She wanted so badly to return to Urlu. She wanted to seize the life she deprived herself all these months. How could he throw a bucket of cold water on her happiness?
He crossed the hall one step at a time. He dragged his feet and stopped more than once to glance over his shoulder. What in the world was Ross talking about? The wizard never came right out and said exactly what he meant. Maybe Fergus and Hazel shouldn’t go home right away. Maybe they should stay in Faery until she solved whatever it was she had to solve. That way, they wouldn’t take it home to Urlu with them.
No, that would never work. Ross said they wouldn’t find it until they went aloft. Whatever it was, they would find it on the way home, and neither he nor Hazel wanted to wait another minute.
He came to the end of the passage and rose through the ceiling. He broke out into the clear morning air on top of the
mound. Hazel turned around to smile at him. The wind caught her red hair and waved it around her face. How free and happy she looked. She surveyed the countryside in excited anticipation for this.
This would be her real maiden flight. They both wanted to forget that first time when she fought him in her uncontrolled madness. Now she could enjoy the exhilaration of Urlu flight for the first time. He couldn’t take that away from her by breaking the bad news.
He hugged her and kissed her. At last, he pushed her back. “Are ye ready, lassie?”
“I’m ready when you are.”
He bowed low and swept his hand across the grass. “After ye.”
She laughed out loud. How beautiful and piercing her voice sounded now. He wouldn’t rob her of this moment for the world.
She spun away and set off running over the mound. She raced him to the top and launched herself into the air. The sun caught her bright red scales, and she unfurled her wings to take off. She streaked over the trees and catapulted into the sky.
Fergus followed on her heels, but with only half a heart. A shadow darkened what should have been a joyful moment for both of them. Hazel soared to the west. Fergus flew after her, but when he saw her heading in a straight line for Urlu, he shook himself out of his funk. He couldn’t let her do this.
He bent his wings and shot forward. He blasted past her ear so fast he knocked her sideways. The wind rushing off his wings rolled her in turbulent eddies. She screeched in surprise, but he already zoomed up the nearest mountain range and disappeared beyond the peaks.
Hazel righted herself in the air in time to see him stall over the highest peaks. He narrowed his eyes at her, and she narrowed hers at him. He chuckled low under his breath. She wanted to be Urlu, so he better teach her a thing or two before she went home. The lads of the Guard would show a novice like her no mercy, so he better give her a taste of that medicine to break her in.
He drifted higher into the clouds before he stooped. He extended his neck and dropped at terminal velocity. He folded his wings against his body and let gravity haul him toward the ground at breakneck speed.
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