by Mary Morgan
“Dinnae worry. I ken ye did all that ye could. How did ye escape and not Erina?”
“We encountered unexpected help from a man named Malcolm MacKay.” He chuckled softly. “The Lord works in wondrous ways.”
Rory stiffened. Dragon Knight, Malcolm MacKay was with Sinclair? “Why did the man help ye?” he asked. “Surely, he is one of the Sinclair’s guards.”
“Apparently, he had nae desire to be a part of this mockery of a trial.”
“Trial?” Rory’s hands clenched.
“The MacKay set me free, in order to find aid for Erina. When I left her, Malcolm was taking her to be tried for her crimes of witchcraft.”
“Sweet Mother Mary, nae!” Graham moved away from the man.
Rory’s vision blurred. It had all been for nothing. He had returned to this century, and found it altered, trusting in the Gods and Goddesses that Erina would not suffer the same fate as before. A second chance, he deemed. Now, the past collided in a torrential blur into the present. Upon the very ground he stood.
He staggered, unable to control the emotions overtaking his soul. They slashed into his heart, ripping through at dagger like precision, and the pain bled out of him.
“Where is she?” His question came out as a growl, and both men gaped at him. “Where?”
Brother Michael stood slowly. “The ruins of Calder Cathedral. Not far from St. Timmons Square.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Within each Fenian Warrior, is the capacity to call upon the power of the cosmos. If used unwisely, worlds will collide.”
~Chronicles of the Fae
The land blurred past Rory as he urged his steed faster toward the forest near the base of the hill. Once there, he would use magic to transport them to Calder Cathedral. He’d disregarded the words of Graham and Brother Michael, urging him to wait for the other guards, and left without the men. How could they understand that the trial would be swift and unjust? Each minute was one spent waiting for a future already plotted and threaded on the loom. And he sought to alter her destiny.
There was no other alternative.
As he approached the trees, Rory slowed his animal. Glancing over his shoulder, he quickly scanned the area to make sure no one was behind him. The trees surrounded him, and Rory let his horse slow to a light canter. He placed a hand over the mane, and whispered quiet words of what he was about to do. After he lifted his hand, the air shimmered.
When he appeared by the edge of the river outside of St. Timmons Square, the mass hysteria had already begun. The taunts of the people reached his hearing, and he tempered his fury. Though the cathedral was well over five miles north of St. Timmons, he could witness everyone—each word, each intake of breath, and their movements with his Fae senses. He urged his horse onward.
He searched for a place at the side of the ruins and swiftly dismounted. As he smacked his horse on the rump, he watched the animal galloped toward protection among the oak trees. Rory turned his attention to the one area he sought to find her.
The blood pounded in his ears when he caught sight of her bound to the stake. The scent of smoke filled him, and as her first scream ripped through the air, the blinding rage surfaced. It could no longer be denied. He had waited for this day to right an injustice—one that happened because of him.
His training forbade him to change fate. Yet, his heart demanded he save her life. The decision was made. The oath sealed with a whisper.
In a single thought, Rory magically appeared behind the manic crowd. The flames licked at the wood, and he followed their path. When his eyes rested on Erina’s swollen face, pure rage exploded inside him.
After removing his plaid, he then stripped his tunic free from his body. Removing his boots, he stood with only his trews on. He chanted the ancient words of battle, words that had not been uttered from his lips in a millennium, and he held his arms outward. The markings on his arms and back blazed with the power they possessed, infusing Rory with strength. His voice rumbled across the land, and the power built with each word.
The ground shook violently, and he judged his time was limited. Soon, his people would come for him. He had to seal the door on time around them. Prevent the other Fae who would seek him out and remove him from her world.
Closing his eyes, he called upon the ancients and from the guardians of long ago. The energy swept through him, piercing every cell in his being, and he snapped his eyes open when Erina’s scream tore through his heart. Her eyes were wild with fear as they met his.
“I am here, mo ghrá!” he shouted. The wind slapped viciously at his face, and the cries of the others soon filled the air.
“The devil has come for the woman!” screamed a woman and ran back into the ruins of the cathedral.
“’Tis only the MacGregor!” Sinclair shouted, ordering guards to put a blade through him.
As the men lunged at Rory, he waved his hand outward, flinging them across the courtyard. More followed, and he did the same with each attempt, until fear drove the rest of the guards to scurry away like rats.
Sinclair moved toward Erina, his dirk raised. The wind howled like a banshee, and Rory could still hear the taunts of the man.
“I will rip her heart out before ye can even attempt to save her. Let the fire cleanse her soul. Or are ye under her spell?”
“Leave or I shall kill ye, Sinclair!” he roared, and the force of Rory’s words caused the man to falter.
Sinclair held his arm higher in an attempt to toss his blade.
“Leave devil’s spawn,” screamed a man in flowing robes. He charged at Rory, waving a cross in front of his body.
With precision thoughts, Rory tossed the man against a tree and magically removed the dirk from Sinclair’s hand.
When he turned his attention back to Sinclair, the man’s eyes grew wide in disbelief and dread. Rory steadily approached him, letting the power flow. Sinclair foolishly reached out to touch him and cried out in pain. He collapsed to the ground, and Rory stepped over him and made his way to the burning pyre.
Terror and screams continued to sweep around him, but Rory gave no care. Holding his hand upward, the skies darkened and rumbled. Lifting his hand higher, the swirling mass of clouds gathered.
“Let me help ye, Fenian Warrior,” someone shouted from the mass hysteria.
Rory cut the man a swift glance. “Dragon Knight.” His words came out in a guttural growl.
“Aye. Call forth the rain, and I will direct it all onto the fire.” The Dragon Knight coughed and moved closer to the flames.
“Nae, nae, Rory. Di…dinnae show who ye…” Great coughing spasms racked Erina as she pleaded for Rory to stop.
He heard her words, but the power flowing through his veins blinded all clear thought. Rory circled his fist over and over, and the air crackled with the force of his power. When the first drop slashed across his face, he opened his fist.
Time froze, sealing out the other world. The universe was as one entity. The shredded loom of fate would be rewoven.
And the skies opened fully.
****
Conn staggered when the first blow rumbled under his feet. “Shit!” He pushed away from his desk. As the second wave of energy slammed into him, he let out another curse.
His hands clenched as he breathed heavily. “Damn you, Rory MacGregor!”
He raked a hand through his hair and paced back and forth. This was his fault for leaving the warrior unattended. He trusted in the Fae, and now the consequences were dire for his friend. The moment he was brought back into their realm, death would swiftly follow.
Ronan was the first to appear in Conn’s chambers inside the halls of the Brotherhood. “We have a conflict in the mortal realm.”
“How many have felt the abuse of power?”
“All,” announced Taran, entering from a side entrance. “The Fae council is demanding all Fenian Warriors to seek out the disruption and bring forth the violator. The entire kingdom felt the force.”
; “Violator,” Conn hissed. “He is our brother!”
Taran shifted uneasily. “He has called upon the power of the old ones. Do you believe he has crossed over to the Realm of Sorrows?”
“If he isn’t there already, I deem he will be there soon.” Conn’s voice heavy with sarcasm. “Though it would seem the council is unaware it’s Rory, correct?”
“Yes,” Taran affirmed.
One by one, more warriors entered the chambers of the Brotherhood. Each took a stance around Conn as if in protection. He realized they were waiting on him for orders. None would ever willingly do the bidding of the council, and Conn smiled inwardly. One of the warriors sent him a single thought letting Conn know the outer fortress was sealed. No other Fae would be allowed inside.
Did the warriors believe he was going to bring Rory back here for safekeeping? Duty or friendship? Sworn vows to a kingdom? What choice did he have? Conn had no clear answer.
Ronan stepped forward, placing a fist over his chest. “Whatever ye decide, we will support your decision.”
And if I choose to hand him over to his death? Will you continue to follow me?
Conn narrowed his eyes and went to the fount in the middle of the chamber. He placed his hands on the ledge and directed his gaze outward. He waited patiently, coaxing the mortal world open to reveal Rory. What was the warrior doing? Conn required answers. The water rippled, but the image of the other world refused to part. Smacking his hand on the stone, he looked around the room.
“Who has tampered with the Veil?”
“As I have stated, no one—”
Conn slashed his hand in the air to halt Ronan’s words. “I am asking all within the Brotherhood at this precise moment. The warrior entered an alternate time, and if I find anyone has lied, my wrath for that someone will be far worse than my anger for Rory.”
The chamber remained silent, and Conn bowed his head.
“Clear your chambers.” His father’s order pierced his thoughts.
Lifting his head, Conn returned his gaze to Ronan and Taran. “Assemble the strongest and most experienced warriors and wait for me at the south entrance to the mortal realm. I shall join you shortly.”
Both men gave a curt nod and left.
He turned to those remaining. “You have pledged your loyalty to the Brotherhood. One of our own is in jeopardy. I need warriors to maintain a vigil around Rory’s home and that of his mother. Seal off the area. Let none of the council or their guards enter. If they refuse to accept your orders, you can tell them these orders came from their prince.”
Each responded with a fist over their chest and then vanished in a flash of brilliant colors.
When the last of the warriors had left, Conn made his way back to his desk. Folding his arms across his chest, he said, “My chambers are cleared.”
King Ansgar appeared within seconds. Storming past his son, he went to the fount and waved his hand over the water. “Release the shroud which masks the truth.”
Confused, Conn stepped over to his father. “Why is Rory cloaked?”
“To finish what he began many centuries ago.”
“Which is?”
His father pursed his lips. “In order to save his soul, he had to rescue the human female.”
Anger burst inside of Conn. “You are my king, but I am the leader of the Brotherhood. Even you do not have the right to tamper.”
King Ansgar turned abruptly and jabbed a finger into Conn’s chest. “How do you know I have tampered?” His voice reverberated around the chambers.
Conn leaned forward, challenging his father. “Because if you desired to help him, you would have made me aware of the assistance. Or offered your knowledge.”
His father’s eyes blazed. Regardless, Conn sought to find the truth.
King Ansgar turned away and paced in front of the fount. “The Fenian Warrior has been on a path of destruction since the day he let the female die.” Halting across from Conn, he added, “I had no wish to see him cross over to the Realm of Sorrows.”
Realization dawned, and Conn sneered. “You’re the one who altered the timeline.”
“Yes.” His was tone resigned, and he wandered back toward the fount.
“I sent him through to witness and heal—”
“Albeit with full powers,” King Ansgar interjected. “I must admit, I am stunned you did so, considering how he felt for the female and the danger he posed to both worlds.”
Conn grumbled a curse, growing frustrated with the conversation. “I am not following your meaning. And the female has a name. She is called, Erina.”
A glint of humor passed briefly over his father’s features. “Rory MacGregor was in love with Erina MacIntyre. Not only did he hide his pain from the Brotherhood, but his love for the human.”
“If I may ask, how did you come upon this knowledge?”
“The Seer. I sought her out for my own concern.” His father narrowed his eyes at him.
Doing his best to temper his anger, Conn turned away. “Yet, you did not think to alert me?”
“I am telling you now. However, you sent him back in the most cruel way ever. To witness the woman he loved die all over again.”
Your timing is a bit off, Father. Conn pointed to the water. “I sent him back to seal what he left open. I understood he loved her, but,” he paused and then continued, “I assumed it was one of his lustful conquests that had gone too far. His amorous liaisons over the centuries are well known. He deemed there were too many to love.”
“Has he ever mentioned he loved any of them?”
Stunned by his father’s question, Conn took a moment of reflection and recalled everything about his friend. Yes, he was a lover, but never once did he profess loving anyone. In truth, Rory deemed he would never marry, since there were so many women to please. He barked out in laughter and moved away from his father. “I never asked why she was different. I only sought to heal the warrior—my friend.”
When his father approached, a look of sadness creased his brow. “What if you had to witness Ivy dying all over again? And what if she did indeed pass over. In addition, what if you had to endure living with this knowledge—these emotions for centuries, only to be told to witness them all over again? What would you do?”
Conn exhaled slowly. “I would do all in my power to save her, regardless of the consequences.”
“There is more I must share,” added his father, wiping a hand over his chin. “When I spoke of what happened to my brother, I did not speak of my pledge I made on the day he died. I vowed no other Fenian Warrior would ever walk into the Realm of Sorrows again. In order to rectify the past, I snapped a thread from the loom of fate and changed the moment he and Erina met for the second time.”
“You do realize the predicament he had to face? He was ordered to close the door on his feelings. His past.”
“This was his greatest challenge. The shadows were gripping him more each day, especially after his time in the Room of Reflection.” King Ansgar gestured to the fount. “Here is your warrior.”
Conn cast his attention to the water, and his mouth gaped open. “By the Gods! He has gone too far.” He watched the scene unfold as his friend wielded the power of the ancients. “Are you positive he has not crossed over to the Realm of Sorrows?”
“Yes. Though there are injuries, Rory has not killed anyone. He is in control, which says a great deal about the warrior. Although, his restraint is weakening and soon he’ll give in to the emotions.”
Glancing sideways at his father, he asked, “How are we going to bind his energy? In addition, what am I to do about the Fae council?”
King Ansgar lifted his palm outward, and a crystal scepter magically appeared. Holding it in front of Conn, he said, “Do what you must to contain the power. Afterwards, bring Rory to my inner chamber. As for the council, I will take responsibility and order the guards to stand down.”
Taking the glittering scepter from his father, Conn inclined his head, and in an arc of li
ght, he vanished.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Even in the darkest moments of a Fae’s life, a whisper of love can pierce through the bleak despair.”
~Chronicles of the Fae
Rain battered Rory’s body as he continued to call forth the water from the sky. Stretching his arm farther, he drew out everything the elements had to offer. He heard the whispers of those long gone guiding him. The power lifted him, urging him to defy those who had dared threaten to kill the woman he loved. The humans were a pitiful species. Insignificant. Inferior. Mere mortals without forethought of their actions.
Death should come to them all.
The shouting began, but it was stronger, intense. Did he recognize these voices? Or had the enemy rebuilt? Did they send for reinforcements?
“Rory.”
Her soft plea stabbed at his heart, and his hand wavered.
“No more, I beg ye.”
Even through the blinding haze, her words bloomed within his mind.
He shook his head, dazed by the intensity of so much power. Rory slowly turned his attention to her. The fire had been squelched, but the rain continued its angry deluge across her body and the land. Malcolm had since dropped to the ground, weary and ashen.
“Erina.” Rory’s words came out in a garbled mess.
Her head was bent forward and concern filled him. As he dropped his hand, Rory stumbled forward. However, movement to his left alerted him to another, and he swiftly turned toward the intruder.
Conn leveled a blow to his jaw, and Rory staggered, but remained standing.
“Fenian Warrior, I hereby order you to release your energy.”
Rory fought the uncertainty, a raging battle locked within his mind and body. His temples throbbed, and he glanced down at his hands. They shook as he lifted them upward. The battle for justice was not over. Who was he to demand Rory release his power?
“I will not ask you again, Fenian Warrior!” shouted Conn.
Indecisiveness wavered within his mind. Slowly he cast his sight all around him. Why were so many from the Brotherhood here? Then he noticed Graham and Brother Michael gaping at him in fear from the side of a cart.
