by Vivi Anna
The pointy-eared man dismounted and crouched next to her. “Where is this cave?”
Tears sprang to her eyes. Pain rippled up and down her body. Her belly cramped again and she had to pull her knees up to stop from retching. She pointed to the rock. “Touch it. It’s there.”
He stood and studied the rock wall. He placed his hands against it and smoothed them around. Eventually a smile lifted his lips, then there was a clicking noise. The rock wall moved up, like the drawbridge of a very tall castle. Beyond the wall was the cave.
The cave where she saw the monster crush her little brother with its large metal foot. The tears came even harder. She could barely breathe as a sob erupted from her throat.
“Duncan!” she cried.
The pain was so intense in her chest, she struggled to get air.
The pointy-eared man looked down at her. “Thank you, Drea. You did well.”
She wanted to scream at him, tell him he could go to hell, but everything was beginning to fade from her mind. The man, the horses, the mountain. Even her.
She tried to cling to something to stop from falling into oblivion. She reached out for someone, for anything to aid her. Her hand landed on a boot. She blinked up at the fancy man. He sneered down at her and shook off her hand.
“Night, sweetheart.”
Then she tumbled backward into the darkness and was lost.
* * *
When she came to again, she was inside the cave. It was cold and dry inside the mountain. She was lying on her side on the hard ground, discarded in the corner like waste. There was a horrendous taste in her mouth from the herbs and mushrooms she’d ingested. She was surprised the elves hadn’t poisoned her for good. According to their methods so far, she didn’t think her life meant much to them. So, why hadn’t they killed her?
She pushed up with her arms, which shook with the strain. All her muscles ached. As did her head. The pain was so intense, it nearly made her retch again. She remembered doing that earlier while still on the horse. After wiping her mouth, she sat up against the rock.
It wasn’t dark inside like she’d expected. A faint yellow glow filled the cave. She looked around and saw it came from several lanterns set inside grooves in the rock walls. There were also what appeared to be rooms in the cave. She was currently in what she could only describe as the mudroom. In a house, it would be where people deposited their dirty shoes and outerwear.
Beyond that was a larger room, where she could see the elves. Acari was talking to someone, looking way up toward the lofty ceiling. Drea moved over a little and that was when she spotted something she’d hoped never to see again. The morrigan.
The reality of her brother’s death came back to her in a devastating rush. She sucked in a breath as it hit her. For as long as she could remember, she’d repressed this memory. Now it came tumbling back to her in a mixture of blood and gore and her little brother’s screams of horror. As well as her own.
She collapsed against the rock wall at the image of Duncan, so little and fragile. He’d run happily into the cave, thinking he’d discovered a pirate’s treasure. He’d always been obsessed with pirates, even announcing at one dinner that he wanted to be one. No one had known where he’d gotten the obsession from, as the village was miles from the ocean and as far as anyone knew he’d never seen one.
So she’d thought it funny when he’d gone running inside, yelling, “Treasure, Drea. Treasure.”
Except he hadn’t found treasure. Instead he’d found a nightmare.
She remembered the glowing red eyes in the dark, and the clicks and whirrs of arms and legs moving as the morrigan grew to its full height. Duncan had skidded to a stop, realizing too late the danger in front of him. The morrigan had lifted one huge metal leg, then brought it down hard on him.
She’d called to him, but it was too late.
She’d always blamed herself for his death. She suspected her parents had too. Well, her mother certainly. On her deathbed, she’d finally forgiven Drea. It was one of the reasons her father clung to her so hard. Fear. That he’d lose her too. But she’d lost him.
Drea closed her eyes against the onslaught of pain that racked her mind and her heart. She sucked in another breath trying to rein it in. It would do her no good if she fell apart now. She could grieve again later, when she was safely back in the village with Sebastian at her side. She knew he would help the pain go away.
Wiping at her eyes, she turned back to the scene in the other chamber.
Made of both metal and flesh, the morrigan sat on its haunches and seemed to be listening to Acari. But it appeared as if only one of its three heads was paying attention. The one without a helmet. The only thing on it that resembled anything close to human. Its face was distorted, mutated in a way, and its eyes...its eyes were like twin pools of fire, burning into a person’s soul.
Drea shuffled a little closer to the other room so she could hear what Acari was saying to it. She heard his words, but couldn’t understand what language he was speaking. Maybe the elves had their own way of communicating. Whatever he was saying though, the morrigan seemed to understand it.
Then he was talking to the female elf. “Your arrival was most welcome, Avaira, but I don’t approve of this sorcerer you brought.”
“He’s on our side. He welcomes the chaos that the morrigan will bring to England.”
“The League is about order and control. Your father is nothing but a pawn being led around by sorcerers and Druids. He’s Clive Hawthorne’s puppet. Why is this Hawthorne any different?”
“He is the enemy of our enemies. He will kill the Davenports for us.”
Acari stroked Avaira’s head and down her hair. “Once he has done this, my cousin, then it is up to you to kill him. We cannot afford any loose ends in this.”
She bent her head to him. “As you wish, it will be done.”
“Good.”
Drea startled a little at the ruthless exchange. When she moved, her foot dislodged a few rocks, which rolled into the main cavern. The morrigan’s three heads turned toward her. As did Acari.
“Ah, she’s awake. Excellent. It’s time for us to begin.” He nodded to the other two elves.
Drea didn’t like the sound of that. She scrambled to her feet and ran, hoping she was going in the right direction, toward the cave opening. A faint light drew nearer. Maybe she would make it out before they caught up to her. But just when she could see the faint cave opening, a figure stepped out of the shadows and nearly knocked her over.
The fancy man grabbed her arm. “Going somewhere, darling?”
“Why are you doing this? What are you doing with these—these creatures?”
He leaned into her ear. “Because I’m going to kill your friend Sebastian.”
She pulled back to see his face. “They plan on killing you. I heard them plotting against you.”
She wasn’t sure if he believed her, but she saw something in his eyes when the other two elves showed up from behind.
He handed her over. “Here’s your little escapee. What exactly are you going to do with her?”
The elves dragged her back to the main cavern, the fancy man followed along. Acari smiled when he saw her. “Running will do you no good, my dear. You have been chosen.”
“For what?” she demanded.
“For the greatest honor a human could have. The morrigan needs a blood sacrifice.” Acari stroked a finger down her cheek. “And your blood I imagine will be perfect.”
Chapter Nineteen
It was twilight by the time they reached the base of the mountains.
“Are you sure we’re going the right way?” Jovan asked. He was now riding beside Sebastian, each brother taking their time to catch up with him.
“I’m positive. Can’t you feel the energy in the air?
Something big is going to happen here.”
“What do you think, Corina?” Rhys asked.
She was walking beside the horse, her hand brushing the tops of the tall grass that grew in abundance. “I can sense Hawthorne. He definitely came this way.”
“How can you tell?” Sebastian asked.
“I shot off his thumb. His blood and flesh splattered onto me. It’s safe to say we’re connected now.”
Grimacing, Sebastian glanced at Jovan, who nodded. “We’ve had a bit of an adventure getting here.”
“Obviously.” Sebastian dismounted. “We could use some light.”
“Allow me.” Jovan rubbed his hands together then cupped them. Within seconds a glowing green orb of light formed. He opened his hands and let the witchlight float up. Its green luminance bathed the path in front of them with an emerald sheen.
“You’ve gotten better at that,” Sebastian said. It was hard for him to remember that his brothers were no longer the brash young men he thought of them. They’d grown and changed just as he had.
“I’m almost as good as you now, brother.” Jovan slapped Sebastian on the back.
“How about you, Rhys?” Sebastian glanced at him. “Have you come into your power?”
“You could say that,” Rhys answered.
“One of his illusions chewed the hand off an elf,” Jovan said, with obvious pride in his voice.
“Sounds like you’re a better illusionist than I.”
Rhys ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sure I’m not that good.”
Sebastian stared out toward the mountain pass, willing Drea to come walking down unharmed, her curls bouncing with each stride. But he knew will alone wasn’t going to be good enough. War was coming. He could feel it in the crisp night air and hear it in the whispers of the leaves and grasses.
They were going to need all their power, all their magic to win. Including his. Especially his. “I’m afraid my magic is a little rusty. I haven’t used it much in the past few years.”
“Because of Evangeline?” Skylar asked.
He was startled to hear her name but he nodded to the Druid, who’d been like a little sister to him in the past.
“We talked to her.”
Sebastian frowned. “When?”
“A month ago.” She glanced at Jovan. “Jovan performed necromancy on her and she helped us find you.”
He didn’t know how to respond to that. His heart squeezed hard. That his little brother would risk the wrath of the council in performing an illegal spell in order to find him...
“She misses you. And she forgives you. She said you should forgive yourself.”
“Skylar,” Jovan warned. “You go too far.”
Forgiveness. He’d gone so long seeking it, craving it. Needing it, to move on. And here it was. From Evangeline’s own lips so to speak.
A great weight lifted from him as he thought of her. It was as if she were there, in front of him, pulling the heaviness of his burden right out of his body. His soul felt lighter. He hadn’t realized how much his guilt had tethered him to darkness and despair.
He no longer felt that encumbrance weighing him down.
Skylar touched his arm. “I’m sorry, Sebastian...”
“No, it’s all right. It’s time I forgave myself. I’m trying. Drea...” He paused, trying to find the right words. “She’s my first step.”
Rhys came to stand on his other side. “Then we’ll combine our magic and fight for her together.”
“I’ve missed the both of you, but I never realized how much until now.”
Jovan shook his head. “You know you’ve really gotten sentimental over the years. It’s quite disturbing.”
Sebastian laughed. It felt good to joke with his brothers. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d been all together with laughter in the air. Certainly it wasn’t at their mother’s wake. And that might have been the last time he’d been at Davenport Manor for any length of time. After her death, he’d moved to the city and led a different life away from his father’s influence, away from tradition and family loyalty.
Now he had to go back and live up to his responsibilities of being a Davenport.
“It’s time we got ready,” he said, as he took the armor Claude had given him out of the saddlebags and prepared the blunderbuss. He’d been shown how to work it but he still was hesitant. What if it failed? What if he failed?
As he put on the armor pieces, he thought about Drea. He had to save her. If he didn’t he wasn’t sure if he could go on. He’d come to this place to find a way to change the past, and in the process he’d found a way to have a future. With Drea. Only with her could he finally put the pieces of his life back together. Only with her would it be worth it.
Chapter Twenty
Darin watched from the sidelines as Acari did his little ceremony, offering up the Blairwood girl to the morrigan.
She had her wrists tied, each with a separate rope. Lovo and Malor held the ends, pulling her arms up, holding her in place. Or as much as they could, considering she kept trying to get away. Acari stood in front of her, speaking and drawing symbols on her forehead and cheeks with what Darin could only assume was blood, since it was red and dripped a lot. She was crying, cringing away from him with every stroke of his finger.
The morrigan stood in the corner, watching it all as well. Or at least Darin assumed it was paying attention. It was hard to tell with two of its heads covered by helmets and face plates, and its one revealed face stoic and unflinching as stone. The only emotion it exhibited was the fire in its eyes. Every once in a while it would flare up.
He personally found the whole process prehistoric and uncivilized. Certainly conjuring spells took a bit of pomp and formality with words but nothing compared to the pagan ritual he was witnessing. He was surprised they hadn’t stripped her naked and painted her entire body. As it was Acari was doing quite a bit of chanting in elfish, which Darin always thought to be an awful-sounding guttural language.
He almost felt bad for the girl. Not enough to free her, mind. He had a healthy dose of self-preservation going on. He wasn’t going to do anything that would risk the opportunity the elves were giving him to exact his revenge on the Davenports and claim his rightful place as head of the magical community.
Avaira broke off from the others and came to stand with him. “You don’t approve.”
He shrugged. “Obviously I’m not an elf. Your traditions and methods are not my concern.”
“What is?”
“Securing my seat on the League of Illusion. Nothing else really matters to me.” He eyed her. “Our arrangement is still in place, is it not? Acari hasn’t changed our plans?”
“Of course not,” she said, except she dropped her gaze when she said it.
She was lying to him. That much was evident. But had the Blairwood girl told him the truth? Were they planning on killing him?
He had to keep up his guard, although it had never been down. He didn’t trust easily. Actually, he never trusted. There wasn’t one person in his life who he trusted fully. Not even his father. Especially not his father.
He had allies certainly. People who shared his penchant for power and doing whatever it took to acquire it. A few of them had helped him get to this point. Avaira was one, but he never claimed to trust her. Even when they were rolling around in his bed. She was using him just as he was using her. But to kill him? Did she have it in her do that?
He studied her as she watched the rest of the ritual. There was glee in her vibrant eyes. The same look was there when she’d instructed him to slaughter the cat to open the portal. Yes, she definitely had it in her to kill him without a second thought.
For the next few hours he was going to have to watch his back. He couldn’t be caught in any precarious sit
uation that would afford the elves an opportunity to execute him. This was going to be extremely difficult since they were going to be marching into war very soon.
Chapter Twenty-One
Drea kicked Acari as he finished painting her face bloody. If she had a hand free, she would’ve scratched out his eyes.
“There’s that spirit again.” He sneered at her. “Admirable but pointless.”
“You’re not going to get away with this. Sebastian will come for me.”
“Of course he will, my dear.” He glanced around the cave. “Except I don’t see him. Is he hiding somewhere?”
“I’m going to enjoy it when he kills you,” she said.
“Probably not as much as I’m going to enjoy watching the morrigan suck your blood until you’re an empty husk.” He nodded to the elves holding her arms out.
They dragged her toward the morrigan. Drea thrashed about, trying to get out of their hold but it was no use, she wasn’t going anywhere except to her death. She didn’t know what was going to happen. Was the morrigan going to eat her? She didn’t think the beast consumed food. There weren’t any bones of animals anywhere in the cave. But according to Acari, it did ingest blood.
As they neared the morrigan, it lowered one of its hands. The elves let go of the ropes and moved back just as it reached for Drea. She tried to run, but its reach was enormous. With ease, it scooped her up in its metal and fleshy fingers. Although she knew it was futile, she struggled within its grip. She couldn’t resign herself to dying without a fight. She still had faith that Sebastian would rescue her.
The morrigan lifted her up and then set her down inside its body. It wasn’t really inside, per se, but inside an empty hollow between its upper half and its lower half, secured together by metal poles that moved. They reminded Drea of bones and muscles, the way they twisted and bent, but were constructed of metal.
The moment she was set down, a whirring sound echoed around her. She looked down and thought she could jump. It wasn’t far enough that she’d die if she did, but if she landed the wrong way, she’d definitely sustain a sprained ankle or a broken bone. Before she could consider it further, two spikes came out from little hidden doors above her. They shot out like vipers, cords trailing behind, and pierced her hands, then imbedded in the metal beneath her feet.
