Masters of the Hunt: Fated and Forbidden

by Sarra Cannon

  Cradling Bella against her, Aislinn tried to link with Fionn’s mind, but it was closed to her. She tried again, pushing hard with her Mage gift. Then with her Seer gift. It was like running up against a castle wall. She took his hand. Thank God it was warm. Something he’d said slammed into her. She’d blithely told him she could Heal him, and he’d replied only if she found him in time. Then there’d been that part about his body being severed from his soul.

  She rocked back on her heels. She needed Gwydion or Arawn or Bran. Someone who knew more than she did. Even Dewi. No, scratch that. She didn’t trust the dragon as far as she could see her.

  Tara materialized by her side. “Och aye and ’tis thick in here. We need to drag him outside this enchantment.”

  “Are you sure we won’t hurt him?” Aislinn locked gazes with her mother.

  Tara cocked her head to one side in a gesture Aislinn remembered so well it tore at her heart. “Nay. But we canna leave him in here. That will kill him for certain. Mayhap not kill,” she amended, “but he will sink so deep, ’twill no longer matter. Where did ye get the bird?”

  “It’s Fionn’s bonded one.”

  “Aye, then, and it must be the same one. A nasty piece, she was. I am certain time hasna improved her temperament.” Tara Lenear chuckled coldly. “Mayhap we could be leavin’ that one asleep.”

  Between her and her mother, they managed to drag Fionn outside the enchantment. Rune tried to help, but all they did was fall over one another. Aislinn had to make the hole bigger, but not all that much. She made a second trip for Bella and tucked the bird into a protected corner. Her head spinning from weariness, Aislinn sank to the stone floor next to Fionn and caught her breath. He looked about the same. She watched the rise and fall of his chest and tried linking to his mind again.

  Why can’t I get in?

  She rocked back on her heels and dredged through every magical possibility she knew, but nothing fit her needs. “Do you know what’s wrong?” Aislinn eyed her mother, floating a few inches above the floor.

  “Aye.”

  Aislinn waited, but Tara didn’t say anything else. “Are you going to tell me?”

  The shade that had been her mother shrugged. “It willna matter. I doona think ye can fix it.”

  “Tell me anyway.” Aislinn drew one of Fionn’s hands into her lap.

  Rune whined. “I am sorry. The air did not feel that tainted to me, or I would have warned him.”

  “Not your fault.” Aislinn turned toward Tara. “Come on, Mom. Talk.”

  “Hmph! Ye used to be more respectful.”

  “Sure, when I still had a normal life and two parents.”

  Her mother looked so sad Aislinn wished she’d kept her mouth shut.

  “The avenging one knew all of you were coming,” Tara said at last. “He had a scrying pool—”

  “How do you know that?”

  “And how else, Daughter? I spied on him. He were no friend to the likes o’ us. We had little enough left, and he would have been stealin’ even that if we would ha’ let him.”

  All that is discarded… “Go on,” Aislinn said softly. Compassion for her mother thrummed through her. “I won’t interrupt again.”

  “He knew the four Celts. I heard him cursin’ them roundly from that obscenity of a bedroom of his. Particularly Fionn. For some reason, Slototh hated him with a fury. He set traps for the Celts—breathed their names into them, he did. T’others, he just let wander, confused. I’m thinkin’ he dinna believe humans would be canny enough to find their own way out.”

  Well, that settles what happened to Gwydion, Arawn, and Bran. “Mom, hold up a minute. I know I said I wouldn’t interrupt, but since you know the feel of Slototh’s traps, would you mind seeing if you can find the others?”

  “I will.” The wolf took off at a lope before she was done talking.

  Tara shook a finger at her. “Ye shouldna say the wicked one’s name aloud. ’Tis bad luck.”

  Aislinn laughed bitterly. “Yes, I’ve had more than my share of that. You said you know where Fionn is. Why can’t I reach him now that he’s lying right in front of me?”

  “Fionn barricaded himself deep to keep the evil one out. He could be in the Dreaming. He might be elsewhere. All I know is that he isna here. I canna feel him, though I sense his warmth.” Tara hesitated. “Ye need Gwydion, master enchanter that he is. Or the dragon.”

  Aislinn clenched her jaw. The last thing she wanted was to ask Dewi for help, not after the trick she’d pulled with the Minotaur, but she wasn’t about to let Fionn waste away wherever he was, either. “There’s got to be another way,” she muttered.

  “Where did ye learn about magic, Daughter?” Tara’s question had an edge to it.

  “It was either embrace it or follow you into the vortex.”

  “Oh.” A pause, then, “I am sorry. I dinna prepare you verra well. But I couldna find my way back to a world without your Da in it.”

  Aislinn reached out a hand. “It’s okay, Mom. You didn’t know what was going to happen.”

  “Och aye, but I did.” Tara jabbed her bony index finger skyward. “The Seer gift, it runs strong in me. I told Jacob we should stop goin’ to anything linked to the Convergence, but he insisted.” One corner of what was left of her mouth turned downward. “I never could refuse that man anything.”

  Crouched in a dark stone corridor, clutching Fionn’s hand, with her mage light suspended off to one side, Aislinn wanted to scream at her mother. To remind her she’d had a duty to her daughter as well. She bit back bitter words. This wasn’t the time. Besides, it wouldn’t change anything. Anger was an indulgence, and she barely had enough strength left to keep herself conscious and moving forward.

  “Where did you get yourself off to?”

  Gritting her teeth, Aislinn answered Dewi. “I am in the prison itself, many hundreds of feet above where I left you. Did that…thing leave?”

  “He’s really quite sensitive—”

  “Can it. Is he gone?”

  Dewi chuckled. “He’s asleep. I must have worn him out. Men are so fragile that way. Open your mind so I can find you.”

  “In a pig’s eye. You’ll have to find me the old fashioned way or not at all.”

  The dragon didn’t answer.

  “Well, either she’s on her way here, or we got lucky and she’s mad at me and not coming,” Aislinn mumbled.

  “Who?”

  “Your old nemesis, the dragon.”

  Tara’s expression softened. Aislinn took a good look at her mother. Most of her face from her cheeks upward was still intact. It was only lower down, where gashes interrupted what had once been living tissue, that she didn’t look like herself. Wounding was permanent for shades. Since their blood no longer circulated, they couldn’t heal themselves. Flesh rotted where skin no longer covered it.

  “I loved her when I was little.” Tara’s eyes filled with a faraway look. “She took me flyin’.”

  “What happened?”

  Tara tossed her hands in a Gaelic je ne sais gesture. “I dinna care for my future bein’ mapped out from afore the day of my birth. Dewi never gave me a minute to myself. I couldna keep secrets from that one. Once I was old enough, I left. Then I met your Da and rewrote my future.”

  Aislinn’s Seeker gift pinged a sour note. Her mother had left some things out. She opened her mouth to ask what pieces Tara had omitted, when she heard Rune’s claws scrape against stone as he rounded a corner.

  “I bit my way through,” he crowed. “Got Gwydion. He was trapped, but not asleep. Not deep, anyway. He came around as soon as I nipped him in a few key places.”

  Footsteps sounded, bare skin slapping against stone, punctuated by the tap of a staff. “There ye are,” the mage growled at the wolf. “I told you to wait for me. I’m still foggy from Slototh—” Gwydion’s mouth fell open. “Tara MacLochlainn, as I live and breathe. Lass, ye’ve been killed. Why are ye not on the far side of the veil?” He hastened to her side and gathered
her close. Strong emotion rippled through the muscles in his face and jaw. Dead or no, Gwydion liked having her mother in his arms. He looked like a dying man who’d been given a second chance.

  Rune nudged her hand. “I’m going to find the other two.”

  Aislinn bent and kissed the top of his furred head. “Thank you.”

  “Thank me when all are safe.”

  Aislinn turned back to Gwydion and her mother. “You loved her,” she blurted, seared by sudden understanding. Tara hadn’t told her that part. It was what she’d been hiding. Her mother had been promised to Fionn, but she loved Gwydion. Tara had solved the problem by running away.

  “Aye, lass.” Gwydion still clung to her mother’s shade. “And I love her still. Fionn never did. He only wanted her because of the ancient prophecy.” Resentment churned beneath his words.

  “She was neither of yours,” Dewi boomed. “The MacLochlainn belongs to me. Now and always.” She slapped Aislinn none too gently as she lumbered past her. “You would do well to remember that, girl.”

  Aislinn lurched to her feet. “How the hell did you get so close without me hearing you?”

  “I can be silent when it behooves me,” Dewi informed her haughtily and grabbed Gwydion’s shoulder with a taloned foreleg. “Give me the MacLochlainn.”

  Tara spewed a string of curses in Gaelic, grew progressively less substantial, and walked through the wall behind Fionn.

  Good for you, Mother! Tara had told the dragon she’d see her in Hell before she’d be owned by anyone or anything.

  “Ye great stupid snake,” Gwydion shouted. “Now see what ye’ve done. Ye frightened her just as ye did when she was but a wee bit of a thing.”

  “She hasn’t learned a damned thing.” Dewi spat back. “Doesn’t have any more sense than she did when you started pawing at her when she was only fourteen. I tried to protect her—”

  “Stop. Both of you,” Aislinn shrieked. “Mother’s dead. She doesn’t need your attention. Doesn’t even want it, from the looks of things. Fionn’s the one who needs you.” She sank to her knees next to his body and laid full length atop him, covering his lips with hers. She tried to push into his mind, but the same shielding repelled her.

  “Appears it’ll take more than a kiss from a princess to bring him back,” Dewi noted dryly.

  Aislinn curled her body into a sitting position right next to Fionn. “What will it take, dragon? The way things stand, I figure you owe me one.”

  Gwydion, still looking shell-shocked, dropped to the floor next to her and Fionn, robes puddling around him. He took one of Fionn’s hands, grabbed his staff with the other, and began to chant. The staff glowed blue-white; Aislinn felt the spell he wove. It dripped power so ancient she could only guess at its origins.

  The scent of lavender and jasmine filled the air. Gwydion’s voice increased in volume and cadence. Aislinn wanted to watch, to understand the magic, but it made her dizzy. When she tried to look, the air was thick with multi-colored runes morphing into one another, forming new runes like an aerial ballet. The staff blazed so bright, she even saw it through her closed lids.

  “Now would be the time for ye to kiss him and call to him.” Gwydion nudged her with the staff. It burned where it touched her. “I find I am needing help.”

  Aislinn glued her lips to Fionn’s and added her magic to the mix. After a heart-stopping few moments when she was afraid he was lost to her forever, his body stirred beneath her touch. She lifted her mouth from his and cried, “Fionn. Beloved.” Arranging her body half on top of him, she kissed him again. When his lips moved beneath hers, she kissed him harder, slid her hands into his hair and her tongue into his mouth. As if from a great distance, she heard the raven caw.

  Chapter 26

  “Mo croi, mo croi,” Fionn whispered against her lips. He threaded his arms around her and tightened them. “How did ye find me?”

  “She didn’t,” Gwydion spat. “’Twas I who brought you back, though I had many second thoughts. Aislinn helped a bit, but she couldna have reached you without me.” The master enchanter hesitated. “Tara was here. She reminded me of…many things.”

  “Where were you?” Aislinn asked Fionn. “Why couldn’t I reach you?”

  “Slototh was after me. I secured myself in the one place he couldna follow: the Dreaming.”

  “And a good thing I know your mind,” Gwydion muttered. “Saved a great deal of trouble tracking you down.” Using his staff for a lever, he pushed heavily to his feet.

  Bella flapped over and settled next to Fionn. She pecked gently at him as he moved Aislinn to one side and worked his way to a sit. He rubbed his face with his hands and gazed blearily at everyone. “What are we doing here? We shouldna be unwarded with Slototh about. Hell, we shouldna be here at all. The wicked one caught me at the height of my strength. Now I’m weak as a newborn colt. We must leave.”

  Aislinn felt him summon magic. Bella attempted to fly to his shoulder. It took her two tries. “Ssssh.” Aislinn laid a hand on his arm. “I don’t think he’s a threat for the moment.”

  “Why not? What happened? I have to get up. Find my men. Get ye to safety.” His head thrashed from side to side, eyes rolling wildly. He gripped her hand so hard, it hurt.

  “Hopefully, the humans are on their way out of here. They were wandering about like zombies, but it didn’t take much to snap them out of their trance state.” Aislinn hesitated. “Nothing like you. No matter what I did, it wouldn’t penetrate the wall you’d slapped up—or hidden behind.”

  She couldn’t stop touching him, even though warning gongs echoed inside her head. All the things she didn’t know mocked her. Had she just been a prophecy substitute when her mother became unavailable? Gwydion intimated as much. Was it like it was with Dewi? He only wanted her because she was a MacLochlainn? Her head hurt. She was so tired she could sleep for a hundred years.

  Maybe it would be okay if I never woke up.

  An inner warning voice blared. Got to get myself outside. Now.

  She shook her head to force order into her thoughts. I can’t leave until we find everyone.

  “Aislinn.” Fionn tapped her arm. “Ye dinna answer me.”

  She met his gaze, locking her golden eyes onto his blue ones. “Sorry. I need food and sleep. And we still need to find Arawn and Bran and their companies.”

  “I could take care of that,” Dewi snorted, “but if you aren’t going to make use of my talents, I may as well go back and entertain myself.”

  Aislinn lurched to her feet and walked to the dragon. “That’s the best idea you’ve had in a while,” she snarked. “Why don’t you do that?”

  “Aye, strong thinking, lass.” Gwydion glared at the dragon. “Be gone.” He shook his staff.

  Dewi blew smoke out her nostrils, made a very annoyed-sounding grunt, and vanished.

  “Thank fucking God,” Aislinn muttered. “I want to tell Mother goodbye before we hunt down everyone else.”

  “Is she gone?” Tara oozed back through the wall. Her gaze shifted from side to side. “Och, I was certain that one was goin’ to follow me. She spent years chasin’ me once I moved to Salt Lake. Had to build wards to keep her out.”

  Gwydion closed his arms around her again. He murmured to her in Gaelic, and she murmured endearments back. Bella cawed stridently. Apparently having recovered somewhat, she flew to them and pecked Tara’s hair.

  Fionn took two strides, snatched the bird in both hands, and chided her. Aislinn didn’t catch all the Gaelic, but the bird was complaining that Tara should’ve been Fionn’s.

  With an arm twined around Tara’s waist, Gwydion turned to face them. “I am going to send her to her rest in the halls of the dead,” he said solemnly. “There is aught here for her. She would bid you farewell.” He gave Tara a gentle shove toward Aislinn.

  “Mom, oh Mom.” Aislinn was crying, unable to control the emotions flooding her. “I love you. It’s like losing you all over again.”

  Tara pulled her clos
e and held her against her half-decayed body. She crooned in Gaelic like she’d done when Aislinn was small. “Never forget ye are my baby girl. And ’tis proud I am of how ye’ve turned out.” She took Aislinn aside then, whispering low. “Fionn loves you. I see in his eyes what was never there for me. I know ye’ve heard things here today that might make ye doubt him, but doona make that mistake. He is a good man.” She kept an arm around Aislinn as they walked back to Gwydion.

  “I am ready,” she said simply, “after one last piece of motherly advice. Watch out for the dragon. She’s on no one’s side but her own.”

  Fionn, who’d kept a tight rein on Bella, tipped his chin at Aislinn. “Let’s give them some privacy.”

  Aislinn’s throat was so tight she couldn’t force words past the lump in it. Tears burned just behind her eyes.

  She looked at her mother, who smiled at her. “There’s nothing more to say, mo leannán. We will meet again in the Summerlands, the kingdom of the dead.”

  Fionn transferred Bella to a shoulder and hooked his arm into hers. “Come,” he said gently. “Where’s Rune?”

  “Hunting for Arawn and Bran.” She snuffled, feeling perfectly wretched.

  “Why don’t you call him? Maybe we can help.”

  Fionn led her away from Gwydion and her mother, keeping hold of her, much as he was doing with the raven. It was as if he knew she’d run back to Tara, given half a chance.

  Aislinn’s heart screamed in protest. All the pain she’d buried when Tara walked into the vortex hadn’t really gone anywhere. It was still inside her, waiting to chew her up and spit her out in little, jagged pieces. Being so exhausted she was worn to a nubbin didn’t help.

  At least this time, I got to tell her goodbye…

  So what? I’m still an orphan.

  Only children are orphans. I haven’t been one of them for a long time.

  “Call Rune.” Compulsion ran beneath Fionn’s words.

  Once, she would’ve been angry, but she understood the wisdom behind his action. She was dangerously close to falling apart, and he knew it.

  “Rune. Rune. Did you find them?”

  “Yes, both. All are on their way outside. The humans who were awake found them about the same time I did. I was just on my way back to you.” The wolf hesitated a beat. “I tried to tell you that, but you didn’t answer.”