The Magic Knot

by Helen Scott Taylor

  “You don’t want to fight me,” Troy said, his voice low, compelling.

  “You’ve no idea what I want, Father.” Niall flipped the blades, slashing them through the air.

  Five years ago, Ciar had set Troy on him for insulting her. Niall had nearly beaten him. This time he would. Hate scraped his brain, honed razor sharp by his father’s lies and scheming. Troy had hurt Niall many times, but this time he’d done the unforgivable— set Niall up to hurt Rose.

  Troy’s skin glowed with the pearlescent cast of an air elemental, but he still bled red and bruised purple. Niall ached to bring his father down, rub his beautiful pureblood face in the muck.

  “I told you the truth about your future with the pisky queen,” Troy said, his tone infuriatingly calm and reasonable.

  “You wouldn’t know the truth if it bit you on the arse.”

  Troy raised his eyebrows. “Fighting will get us nowhere. We need to talk.”

  Niall pivoted, tracking his father’s movements. “Why so keen to start talking to me now? You’ve never bothered before.”

  “Didn’t you listen to what I said to you earlier?”

  “Aye, you spin a good yarn. Michael must have learned to tell tall tales from you.”

  Troy shot Niall a wounded look.

  “Oh, for sure, I’m wrong. I’m always wrong.” Anger exploded in Niall’s head, blasting through him, leaving a trail of despair.

  He lunged, slicing the point of his blade across his father’s thigh. A scarlet line seeped along the cut in the gold fabric.

  Troy reached beneath his jacket, drew Death’s Kiss, his short sword, and pointed the deadly black blade at Niall’s chest. “Don’t make me hurt you, lad.”

  “That’s a joke.” Niall laughed, the sound a hollow bark in the empty room. “You’re just afraid I’ll win. Last time—”

  “Last time,” Troy snapped, “I could have killed you. I chose to let you go into exile.”

  “Crap!”

  “This is ridiculous.” Troy stepped back and re-sheathed his sword. He raised his palms. “I’m unarmed. Finish this if you will.”

  Seething, Niall held his quivering muscles in check. This must be another trap.

  The instant he blinked, Troy leaped. Niall’s back slammed down on the table. His head cracked against the wood. Light and pain flashed behind his eyelids. Anger splintered into confusion. His father pinned him, twisting Niall’s wrists until his blades clattered to the table. With a knee pressed against Niall’s groin, Troy leaned close. The tender concern that would never be voiced between them shone in his blue eyes. Out loud, he said, “Never…ever…drop your guard. Not if you want to live. Did you learn nothing from the times you watched me train, lad?”

  Shock, cold as ice water in the face, made Niall gawp at his father. The man knew he’d watched him practice?

  “Close your mouth before you catch a fly.” Troy loosened his grip and moved back. “I always knew where you were, how you were doing.”

  Niall scrambled up and shook his shoulders, trying to regain some dignity; he shook his head, trying to sort out his jumbled emotions. “You’ve no idea where I’ve spent the last five years.”

  “The Elephant’s Nest Public House in Cornwall. Ideal for Michael, not quite your thing, I would guess. Your sister lives close by in a cottage you had specially built for her.”

  A jolt of fear and confusion kicked the last of Niall’s composure to hell. He stared at his boots, raking his fingernails over his head. “Why did you not send someone to capture Ana? Ciar threatened—”

  “Ciar doesn’t know where Ana is.” Troy was silent until Niall looked up; then he continued. “I know.”

  Niall stared into his father’s eyes. “If this is a trick to make me trust you…”

  Troy strolled to the end of the table, turned, and flipped back his hair. “Believe what I told you earlier, Niall. Rose is for you. Your destiny is with her in Cornwall.”

  “But I couldn’t run the light with her.”

  “There’ll be a reason. Maybe your mixed blood.” Troy narrowed his eyes and swore beneath his breath.

  “What is it?”

  “I wondered why the Nameless One didn’t intervene when I came to find you. She must have known you’ fail.” Troy’s delicate nostrils flared. “Go to Rose, lad. Try again.”

  Desolation pressed in on Niall. “’Tis too late. I’ve sent the stalker to run the light with her.”

  Troy laughed, a lilting peal of genuine mirth. Niall’s misery was joined by irritation. Was his pain so entertaining? He took a threatening step forward. Troy stayed Niall with a raised palm and shook his head. “If you believe the lass will let you dictate her bed partners, you have much to learn about women.”

  “But she needs to run the light.”

  “No, she needs to find out how to release her people.” Troy walked forward and placed a hand on Niall’s shoulder. “She’s bonded with you, lad. You misjudge her if you think she’ll forsake you so easily. If you want her to trust you, first you must trust her judgment.”

  “She forged the bond with me unintentionally.”

  Troy shrugged. “It’s as the dark mirror foretold. Her human half may not understand, but her fairy half acted on instinct. Otherwise, the link would not be so strongly wrought.”

  Niall stared into his father’s eyes, gauging the truth of his words. The reasoning made sense. Guilt and fear tightened his chest. What if the stalker had taken Niall’s request as a command and given Rose no choice?

  Troy grasped Niall’s arm as he turned to go. “Best fetch her and leave, lad. You need not face the Queen of Nightmares again. I summoned The Book of Longings from in-between while you were upstairs and persuaded it to reveal the fairy lore you need in exchange for knowledge of my deepest longing. To reanimate the piskies, all you need to do is retie their Magic Knots. This is done with the blood of the queen.”

  “Rose’s blood?”

  “Yes. But deep blood, mind. Use leprechaun earth magic to enchant a blade so that it leaves no wound.”

  Niall’s gut clenched at the thought of stabbing Rose to bloody the blade. “If I’m to be king, can I not use me own blood?”

  “It will only work with pisky blood.” Troy raised his eyes heavenward. “Damn me for an oaf! That must be why you couldn’t run the light with her. You do not carry pisky blood.”

  “Nightshade is the only pisky left.”

  “You were right then. To activate her fairy half, she’d have to bed the stalker.” Troy slapped Niall on the back. “Lucky she no longer needs to do it in a hurry. With exposure to her people, over time it’ll happen naturally.”

  Niall rubbed his face. Emotions mixed and roiled inside him. He’d hurt Rose badly by walking out. How could he make it up to her?

  For the first time since he’d sent Nightshade to her, he opened his mind, tentatively reaching out to let her sense his feelings before he faced her and asked for forgiveness.

  Terror streaked along their link. Searing heat roared over his body. “Great Danu!” Niall clenched his eyes, gritting his teeth against the pain.

  “What is it?” Troy gripped Niall’s shoulders and shook him.

  “Rose!” Fiery snakes of fear coiled through him. “She’s burning.”

  Troy leaped from the table and landed beside the door. “Fire can mean only one thing.” Niall pushed back the mind-consuming dread as they sprinted along the hallway side by side.

  As they approached the great hall, the strange metallic smell of Ciar’s fire wafted into the corridor on pale fingers of smoke.

  At Troy’s command, the crowd parted before him, and he surged forward, Niall on his heels. He recognized Rose’s hunched form trapped within a circle of raging fire. Despite the furnace temperature, icy claws of fear gripped him.

  Troy slowed as he approached Ciar and raised a restraining arm in front of Niall. He ignored the signal and sprinted on toward the flames. There was no time to sweet-talk Ciar into releasing Rose.
Her pain and terror screamed in his brain. He had to get her out now.

  Niall readied himself as he neared the wall of flame and jumped. He closed his eyes, tensed against the moment of agony when the searing air above the blaze would have flayed a human. He landed in the circle, skidded to a halt, and fell to his knees. Alerted by the acrid tang of singed fabric, he slapped out the flames that ate at his pants. Rose crawled to him. He enclosed her within his arms, turning his back to the closest flames to protect her.

  She burrowed against his chest. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  “’Tis my fault. All my fault.” Niall pulled off his jacket, wrapped the sheepskin around her to shield her from the heat, and pressed his lips to her crispy hair. Half fairy or not, she burned like a human.

  How had he let this happen? The heat made his eyes tear up.

  To get her to safety, he must carry her over the top of the fire. He stared around the circle, gauging the height of the flames. They had faded slightly since he’d jumped in, but it was going to be tough to clear them carrying Rose. He glanced toward Ciar and saw Troy bent close, entreating her.

  “Rose.” He lifted her chin, made her look at him. “Climb on me back. I must carry you out.”

  “But the flames…”

  “I’ll jump over them, lass.” He cupped her cheeks in his hands. She gazed at him, glassy-eyed with shock, her face scarlet and puffy. Fear oozed from her, filled his mind. His chest tightened. Why had he walked out on her and let her face Ciar alone and unchanged?

  The air swirled. Smoke raced around the circle of flame. Niall looked up to see Nightshade hovering above them.

  “Pass her to me, Irish.”

  Rose looked up, blinked, and let her head fall back against Niall’s chest. He gripped her shoulders and squeezed. “Come on, lass. Stay awake.” She raised her head, wide-eyed, confused. “Nightshade’s going to carry you back to En gland. You’ll be fine.”

  “What about the fairy lore to free the piskies?”

  How could she think about that now? “Don’t go worrying, lass. I know.”

  She frowned and rubbed her eyes. “I can’t leave you here.” Rose aimed a kiss at Niall’s mouth, missed, and bumped her lips on his chin. “I love you.”

  Joy, guilt, and pain twisted around his heart. Niall breathed through his mouth to ease the rush of emotion. “Wherever you land on the other side of the Irish Sea, you wait for me. I’ll find you. I promise.”

  Niall grasped her hips and hoisted her toward Nightshade. She gasped, clutching at Niall’s shoulders.

  “Rosenwyn,” Nightshade called. “Reach up to me.”

  When Rose didn’t respond, the stalker dipped lower and caught her beneath her arms. Niall released her, quaking with relief and a tinge of uncertainty as Nightshade took her weight, balanced her in his arms, and flew up to the ceiling.

  Niall cupped his hands around his mouth. “Get her out of Ireland.”

  Ciar’s furious banshee screech ripped the air. The wall of flame dropped and sputtered to nothing as her attention focused upward.

  With spitting gold eyes, Ciar raised a hand and in quick succession blasted four streams of whooshing fire at the stalker. He ducked and dived, narrowly avoiding the flames. Burning paint bubbled in black streaks across the ceiling. The dark red velvet curtains burst into blazing columns. People shouted, those whose element was earth scrambling toward the door.

  All her energy focused on her attack, Ciar dropped her glamour. The withered hag grimaced, revealing brown teeth. She raised a skeletal arm, ready for another blast.

  No way could the stalker keep avoiding the flames. Niall had to help Nightshade escape. Dodging flakes of burning paint raining from the ceiling, Niall approached Ciar. Would his father intervene? Troy stood motionless beside her, his face tight with shock. He glanced at Niall, then, with a shake of his head, melted into the air and disappeared.

  Although Ciar was one of the ancient ones, she didn’t deserve respect. Since his birth she’d made his life a misery. He’d defied her, run from her, but now she’d done the unpardonable—harmed Rose. He seized Ciar’s skeletal body. Flames licked around his hands. He clenched his teeth against the pain, raised her above his head, and hurled her at the nearest window. She crashed through, glass exploding in a deadly rain of splinters across the floor.

  As soon as the glass stopped falling, Nightshade flew out. Niall stared after them, his heart pounding as the stalker and his precious burden were swallowed by the night.

  Gradually, Niall became aware of the unnatural silence. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the hardy fairies who’d stayed to watch shrink back against the wall. With a flick of his wrists he dropped a blade into each palm. Ciar might be down; her bodyguard was not.

  For the first time in Niall’s life, his father had sided with him against the queen. But Troy couldn’t stand by and neglect his duty for long. Light-headed with wonder, Niall swiveled around and searched the room. Surrounded by a pearlescent glow, Troy stepped from the smoke-shrouded air, and touched his fingers to his forehead in a gesture of respect. Niall stood tall and replied with the same gesture, one warrior to another.

  Michael walked up beside Niall and held out a hand. “Give me one of those daggers.” Frowning, Niall flipped over a blade and presented the handle to Michael.

  Troy walked toward them and shook his head. “Michael, lad, what on earth do you intend to do with that?”

  Michael gave a wry grin. “I’ve not got a clue, but I’ve realized me brother has the right of this argument. I’m thinking I’ll have to go back to Cornwall with him.”

  Troy grinned. For a few seconds he looked the image of Michael. “You’ll have your part to play in the pisky court, lad. You two had better make yourselves scarce before Ciar comes to.”

  He drew his short black sword and took a fighting stance. “Looks like you’ll get your fight with me after all, Niall. The queen must believe I attempted to detain you.” Troy glanced at Michael. “Keep out of the way for a few minutes, lad. I don’t want you hurt by accident.”

  Troy firmed his grip on his sword. His mouth flattened to a grim line as he faced Niall. “Looked like your lass might be badly burned. The surest way to cure her is to activate her fairy half.”

  Dread clutched Niall’s chest, locking smoky air in his lungs.

  “She’ll have to run the light with the stalker.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jacca cradled Rosenwyn against his chest and flew with the chill wind toward the southeast coast of Ireland.

  He looked down and tried to see her face, but her head was wrapped in the sheepskin collar of Niall’s jacket. Although his wing muscles ached from the extra weight, sharp spurs of remorse urged him on. He’d promised to protect Rosenwyn. Why had he allowed her to step within the fiery ring? He should have had the strength to defy Ciar alone, not waited for Niall to take a stand before he acted.

  She wriggled in his arms.

  “Easy,” he said.

  “Niall and Michael,” she croaked. “We can’t leave them.”

  “The Irish brothers will be fine.” He had no doubt Niall would make sure they both got back to Cornwall safely. He had always respected Niall’s fighting skills. In Ireland, he’d witnessed strength in the man that was humbling. Niall faltered, but eventually he faced his demons and won.

  Nightshade rose higher to clear the top of a mountain. As he descended on the other side, salty air whipped his hair across his face. The sparkling, dark expanse of the Irish Sea lay before him like a sea of stars.

  Rosenwyn shivered in his arms. The shock of the burning and then the chill of the night air must be taking their toll. He needed to check her condition, and he wanted to rest before striking out across the water.

  Descending, he landed on a deserted stretch of scrubby grassland topping the cliffs above the sea.

  With a sigh of relief, he let his wings fold. The muscles in his shoulders and back pulsed with a dull ache as he relaxed.

>   Nightshade crouched on the damp grass, sat Rosenwyn on his knee, and gently eased the sheepskin collar away from her face. He hadn’t thought she was too badly burned, but in the cool light of the moon her skin was the color of raw meat. For a moment fear stripped his strength. The cold sea breeze spiked his bare chest, penetrated his bones. What would happen to him if she didn’t recover? He couldn’t bear to return to his old life with Tristan.

  Her teeth chattered. She snuggled deeper into Niall’s jacket and hugged herself. “You must go back…help…Niall.”

  Nightshade gathered her into his arms and laid his cheek on her hair. Here he was thinking of himself, and Rosenwyn was worried about everyone except herself. She was much stronger than her mother. Far more deserving of his support and respect. He’d thought he loved Ailla once, but he’d only worshiped her beauty. That was not what made a good queen.