The Magic Knot

by Helen Scott Taylor

  Much as she hated the idea of putting herself at Tristan’s mercy again, if her people were freed, it would be worth the risk. A rod of icy resolution straightened her backbone. “Okay, tell me what Niall intends to do so I’m prepared.”

  “I don’t know. Niall said he’d give a signal when he wants me to fetch the globes containing the piskies’ minds and spirits.”

  “Great!” Rose slapped her palms on the rock. “Tristan plans to sacrifice me, and Niall’s going to wing it.”

  Jacca smiled apologetically. “We’ better go now. I’ll leave the bonds loose when I tie you to the stone table. Relax and close your eyes. Tristan must think you’re still unconscious.”

  Niall’s presence nearby hummed like high-voltage cables. What ever he planned, he was keyed up and ready. Despite his obdurate behavior, she was certain he loved her. She stood up and brushed off her clothes. All she could do was trust the man she loved.

  When Jacca scooped her into his arms, she relaxed against his chest and remembered how terrible she’d felt on the flight from Ireland. She hadn’t expected to face death again so soon. As they entered the dark corridor, she closed her eyes and pressed her cheek against his warm skin. This was her destiny. The lives of seventy-two piskies rested in her hands. What ever it took to put right her mother’s mistakes and her father’s evil deeds, Rose was determined to pay the price.

  Niall waited beside Tristan in the center of the great hall beneath Trevelion Manor. Every muscle in his body tensed when Nightshade appeared from the shadows with Rose’s limp form cradled in his arms.

  Extending his senses, Niall reached out to reassure her. She was conscious, but emotionally he sensed…nothing. Then a fog of fear and pain drifted between them, blurring his link with her.

  He pushed harder, trying to strengthen their connection, let her know she was safe. No response. What was wrong? The stab wound should have healed within an hour, leaving her cleansed and strengthened to face Tristan. Apart from the initial pain, which he’d tried to alleviate, there should have been no adverse effects.

  Niall stared at Nightshade until the man met his gaze and blinked, his expression unreadable. The stalker was supposed to have explained Niall’s motives for stabbing her. Had she understood? Had Niall pushed her trust in him too far?

  After Nightshade laid Rose on the stone table in the center of the chamber, he secured her wrists and ankles. She rolled her head and groaned, obviously pretending to regain consciousness for Tristan’s benefit. Niall stayed inside her mind, trying to connect with her. She thrust him away and retreated behind sharp points of anger and hurt. Her name jumped to his lips and he bit it back. Tristan mustn’t doubt his intentions. A chill settled in the pit of his stomach. Had he devised a plan that would save her people yet lose him her love?

  Tristan shuffled over to where Rose lay and lit four black candles positioned on the corners of the stone table. When the druid gave her a malevolent grin, Niall suppressed the urge to race over and protect her.

  Narrowing his eyes, Tristan surveyed the paintings of the pisky troop that were leaning against the walls. “Behind those frozen expressions they see everything.” He stared at Rose as he withdrew a bone-handled knife from his robes. “Let’s hope they enjoy our little show.”

  Rose shifted. She turned her head toward Niall. Unshed tears in her eyes glittered in the candle flames.

  Niall’s muscles vibrated with the effort to remain still. Steady, love, he whispered into her mind, and felt a flood of relief as she opened to him.

  “We’ve come full circle, my dear,” Tristan said. “Your mother lay here when I took her blood to destroy your people. Now you lie in her place as queen.” Tristan passed his blade through a candle flame, a satisfied smile on his face. “The blood of the royal line condemned them. Only the blood of the royal line can restore them.” He touched the ritual blade to his lips, then leaned over Rose, his face inches above hers. “On your death, the ungrateful wretches will be trapped forever.”

  Rose remained motionless, but Niall sensed her hanging on to their thread of connection like a lifeline.

  Tristan raised his hands above his head. The wide sleeves of his robe fell back to reveal emaciated arms.

  Time to give Nightshade the signal. Niall looked at the stalker, who nodded once in acknowledgment and slipped away to fetch the two glass globes and the wooden box containing the broken Magic Knots.

  Niall flexed his wrist and let the bloodied blade he’d used on Rose slide into his palm. Timing was crucial. Although he didn’t know how powerful Tristan was, Nightshade swore the druid’s black magic was capable of killing them all. Niall had to wait until Tristan entered a trance state before he took action.

  Tristan’s Gaelic litany echoed around the underground chamber. Most Niall understood. He wished he didn’t. Evil words from the mantra of eternal damnation hammered into his soul like rusty nails. Niall swallowed and concentrated on controlling his catching breaths. How much worse it must be for Rose. Yet she held on to their connection, trusting him. Her life in his hands.

  He mustn’t let her down.

  When Tristan’s voice dropped as though he were nearing the end of his incantation, Niall flexed his muscles, ready for action, and watched for Nightshade. The druid ceased speaking, face turned up toward the ceiling, eyes closed. Silence hummed in the room.

  Come on, Nightshade. Where in the Furies are you? We need to act now.

  Niall edged toward the door, counting off the seconds of Tristan’s trance in his head. When Niall reached two hundred, Tristan sucked in a breath and looked down at Rose.

  Dagda! They’ missed their best chance. With a wary eye on the tableau being played out on the stone table, Niall continued his silent steps toward the doorway where he expected Nightshade to reappear.

  With the backs of his fingers, Tristan stroked Rose’s cheek. Her dread tugged at Niall, but he couldn’t be distracted now. Hold on a little longer, he whispered into her mind. Nightshade must return soon.

  Tristan hooked his finger beneath the leather thong around Rose’s neck and pulled out the Magic Knot. Niall froze, breath locked in his chest, every scrap of attention fixed on his stones. He hadn’t foreseen this. Killing Rose was enough to put an end to the piskies. Why did Tristan want the stones?

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nightshade slide back into the chamber, dark as a wraith. Grand bloody timing.

  If Tristan smashed Niall’s stones, Niall would join the pisky troop in oblivion. A surge of pain swept through him. He was about to be rent asunder and he’d never actually told Rose he loved her.

  Rose gasped. “Not the stones.” She shot a panicked glance his way.

  “Ah, at last you show some spirit.” Tristan followed her gaze toward Niall and frowned when he noticed he’d moved. Then he turned back to Rose. “I thought you’ given up as easily as your mother. I expected more from you, since you carry my genes.”

  “Don’t remind me,” Rose spit.

  The druid jerked the thong around her neck taut and whipped his blade across it. She cried out as the thin leather bit into her flesh before it snapped.

  Tristan dangled the stones before her. “Say goodbye to your lover, my dear.”

  He hurled Niall’s Magic Knot at the ground.

  “Niall!” Rose screamed.

  Niall leaped as the stones left the druid’s hand. He caught them an inch above the ground and rolled over onto his feet. Tristan blinked in surprise, mouth agape. In the few seconds it took the druid to react, Niall pocketed his stones, turned, and sprinted toward Nightshade.

  The stalker hesitated a second, then took off toward Niall, carrying the box of Magic Knots. Niall flipped the bloodied dagger blade out and held it ready. He concentrated on the box, imagined plunging the blade among the broken stones to rejoin them.

  Five feet until he reached the wooden box.

  Nearly there.

  Pain pierced the base of his spine, exploding up and down, freezing every
nerve, every muscle. He dragged breath into lungs heavy with cold, stumbled to his knees, and toppled forward, the side of his face smashing against the granite floor.

  With agonizing effort, he lifted his head. Nightshade crawled toward him, pushing the box ahead. Niall dug his fingernails and boots into the granite and inched forward. Another foot and he’d be there. Once Rose’s blood on the ensorcelled dagger touched the stones, the magic would take over.

  With every fiber of his being, Niall willed himself on. Ice water ran where his blood should be. His teeth chattered. His breath misted before him. Muscles seized up. With a painful thud that sent stars spinning before his eyes, his head fell forward.

  “What’s happening?” Muffled and distant, Rose’s voice reached him as if in a dream. Body useless, face pressed into the grit, he sought the warmth of Rose’s love to chase back the chill invading his heart. He couldn’t reach her. Tristan’s spell must have locked him into his body. Nightshade had been right: the druid was dangerous.

  Tristan’s black patent shoes appeared a few inches from his face. “You nearly fooled me, but the way she looked at you tipped me off.” He stooped and dragged the leather thong from Niall’s pocket.

  The druid dangled the Magic Knot before Niall’s face and let the stones bump the toe of his shoe. The chill in Niall’s body frosted his heart. He’d let Rose down, let the piskies down.

  “So that means…” Tristan caught hold of the chain around Niall’s neck and yanked it free. He crouched down and cupped Rose’s Magic Knot in his hand for Niall to see. “These are my daughter’s.” He dropped Niall’s stones into his palm before rolling the two sets around together. “I must say, I’m impressed by how fast you work. I had the impression your brother was the charmer. If I cared about Rose, I’d be pleased with her choice.” He stroked Niall’s hair and sighed. “Such a waste. Never mind, at least you have the consolation of knowing you’ll die together.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Rose strained her neck to see what was happening behind her, but they were all out of sight. “Niall,” she shouted. She could hear the murmur of voices echoing in the cavernous chamber, but no one answered.

  Niall had sprinted away with purpose after catching his stones. Maybe he wasn’t answering her because he was in the middle of trying to free the piskies. She gazed at the paintings dimly illuminated by candles on the walls. None of the pictures moved—yet.

  Rose pulled on the straps Jacca had fastened loosely around her wrists. With a few tugs her hands slid free. Leaning up on an elbow, she peered into the gloom and saw Tristan crouched beside two prone bodies.

  Niall! She probed for their link. A blast of mind-numbing cold hit her. The chill crawled into her core, crept along her limbs. What the hell had Tristan done to him?

  She bent forward and fumbled with the knots at her ankles. Her body shook with each thump of her heart as she wriggled off the far end of the table and hid behind the hunk of rock supporting the surface. What could she do? At any moment Tristan might notice she wasn’t where he’d left her. Rose dragged her hands through her hair and tried to get her brain in gear. Jacca had said her blood was needed to raise the piskies. How? Damn Niall. Why hadn’t he told her what he planned to do?

  Rose peered around the table to check what was happening. Niall and Jacca were both still motionless on the ground. Oh, God, Niall. She opened herself to him again, and at the icy touch pulled back.

  Tristan stood and walked from Niall to Jacca. He halted, hands on hips, and shook his head. “I’m disappointed in you, Nightshade. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You betrayed your troop; now you betray me. They say a leopard doesn’t change its spots.”

  Jacca had betrayed the troop? The thought puzzled her for a moment, but was knocked from her head as Tristan slammed the toe of his shoe into Jacca’s gut. Rose jerked back and pressed her hand to her mouth to stifle her cry. Had Tristan kicked Niall as well when she wasn’t watching?

  She must do something. Now.

  Rose crawled beneath the side of the table in the deepest shadows, getting a little closer. Perhaps if she ran away, Tristan would follow her and leave the men to recover. Idiot! That’s so lame. She squeezed her eyes closed. Come on, woman. Use your brain.

  Tristan unhooked the key ring holding the Magic Knot from Jacca’s belt, then dropped the stones in his palm. It was a safe bet Tristan had taken Niall’s stones as well. What about hers? Cold sweat prickled her body, and nausea swirled in her gut. She was certain the sick taint of his touch on her stones was causing her queasiness.

  What had Niall planned to do? A box lay on the ground between the two prone men. Rose squinted through the gloom. Was that a dagger in Niall’s outstretched hand?

  Tristan jangled the three sets of stones and smirked down at the men. “Do you know how I shattered the piskies’? It’s ridiculously easy.” His lips peeled back in a malevolent grin that spiked fear through Rose. “Let me give you a demonstration.”

  Tipping his hand, Tristan let the Magic Knots tumble to the floor. Blinding pain crashed through her skull as the stones hit. Rose clamped her hands over her head, clenching her teeth.

  When she recovered enough to look up, Tristan was pushing one set of stones into a heap with his toe. He raised his heel above them. “I didn’t think I’d have to do this to you, Nightshade.” He released a deep, gusty sigh.

  Tristan stamped down.

  Jacca convulsed.

  His animalistic cry echoed around the cavern. Her father raised his foot and examined the stones. “Tough guy, tough stones,” he said, and crashed his heel on them again.

  If Jacca were split up without a painting for his body to pass into, what would happen to him? She pressed her hands over her mouth as Tristan raised his heel a third time.

  For God’s sake, move. Do something. Anything. She blinked against the throbbing in her head and tensed her muscles. Dark waves of nausea rolled over her as she tried to stand. Clutching at the table, she collapsed back to the ground.

  Tristan banged his foot down. Jacca’s scream echoed with primeval horror that would stay with her for the rest of her life. His body shimmered, faded, and melted away into shadow.

  Jacca! She pressed her hands over her eyes. He’d saved her life by flying her out of Ireland, and she’d sat here and watched her father kill him. Bile burned the back of her throat, and she fought the need to throw up.

  Blinking back tears, she watched her father push the stones on the leather thong into a heap. “Not so superior now, are you, proud Tuatha Dé Danaan?” He crouched and angled his head to see Niall’s face. “You always thought you were better than me, didn’t you? Conceited as the bloody piskies.”

  She would not let Tristan do the same to Niall.

  Rose swallowed hard and pushed herself to her feet. She blinked to clear her head and made herself walk toward Tristan. “You bastard.”

  Tristan glanced up and rose slowly to his feet. “Nightshade didn’t tie you properly. I should have known.”

  Rose faltered to a stop ten feet from him and scanned Niall’s body. She had no idea how to stop Tristan, but she couldn’t let him break Niall’s stones.

  Tristan crossed his arms and smirked. “Have you just come to watch, or do you plan to try to stop me?”

  Cool air carrying the scent of almonds feathered her skin. Jacca? Was he still here?

  Rosenwyn, Jacca’s voice whispered in her mind.

  She tried to scan the room from the corner of her eye to see his shade.

  Put Niall’s knife in the wooden box. I’ll distract Tristan.

  Tristan raised his foot over Niall’s Magic Knot.

  “No!” Rose lunged at her father.

  He lifted his hand. A dark nimbus of power danced around his fingers and shot out bolts of black fire. Rose lunged sideways, landing heavily, one arm numbed with cold from his attack.

  Jacca’s man-shaped shade materialized beside Tristan. The druid’s eyes widened, and he backed away with his h
and out. Black, smoky bursts flared from Tristan’s fingers and passed through the shadow ineffectually. When her father turned to run, he managed two steps before he grunted and fell on his face.

  Rose scrambled up, hugging her cold-deadened arm to her body, and ran toward Niall. Although desperate to check that he wasn’t hurt, she forced herself to first pull the dagger from his limp fingers and throw it at the wooden box. The blade hit the side and bounced onto the ground. “Bloody hell!” Did everything have to be difficult? Rose crawled forward and snatched the knife up. This time she held the handle as she plunged the smoky quartz into the box.

  Stone crunched against stone. It took her a moment to realize the box contained the piskies’ broken Magic Knots.

  Stirring the stone fragments with the dagger, she made sure every piece touched her blood. Rose gathered the pieces of Jacca’s Magic Knot off the ground and added them to the box.