Bryanna stuck close to his heels. Her presence was a welcome warmth on his back. Briefly, he wished she would always behave this way, a docile and willing companion. He smiled to himself, there was little chance of that. They reached the center. He placed the candelabra on a small, flat rock and stepped back, so she could see what he’d brought her to see.
She gasped.
Framed by three feet of naturally formed stalagmites, the small pool glowed a morning glory blue, so pure it seemed to belong to Danu herself. But he knew better. Danu had nothing to do with this beauty.
Bryanna leaned forward over the water, and Kian fisted his hands tight to his sides, resisting the urge to grab her and pull her back. He’d brought her here to see this, he’d let her see. Then they would leave and he would get what he needed.
All of it. Even if he wasn’t sure anymore what he needed.
“How deep is it?”
“I don’t know, but it’s deep. Much deeper than it looks.”
“It looks like you could touch the bottom.” She stretched out her fingers.
Kian caught her hand. “Don’t.” He didn’t realize he was squeezing it until she made a small sound.
He released her. She shook her head at him and rubbed her fingers with her other hand. “It’s lovely, but I sense from your attitude that you don’t want to be here.”
“I don’t.”
“Why bring me here?”
He gazed deep into her serious, MacElvy eyes. Green eyes that had marked her tribe for generations. She and her family were the reason he was here. The MacElvys and that damn prophecy that threatened his mother’s very existence. Ironic that it was a MacElvy that would save him.
“This is old magic. The gnomes of Cairngloss would never have abandoned it had the White Queen not made her home near here. If they knew that we were here, they might even come back to defend it. Even Beezel doesn’t dare come down here.”
“So why are we here?”
“Because I am desperate.” He crossed to the pool and stared into its clear blue depths. “I have only a few hours to convince you to work your magic again. If I don’t, I may not retain this shape past tomorrow night’s full moon. That damn spell is for werewolves, and somehow I’m tied into it.” He turned back to her, lifted his hand out to her. “I know you can fix it…fix me.”
She stepped back, still skittish. “I still don’t get it. Why bring me here?”
“I want to show you that I can be trusted, that I will help you. I know one of the things bothering you is not knowing what’s happened to your family.” He forced himself to appear calm, knowing that this might backfire, knowing he had to take the chance. “This pool can show you your family.”
All her attention switched to the still, blue waters. “How?”
“Magic like this always exacts a price…a sacrifice.”
“I’ll give it, I’ll give anything. What do I need to do?”
“Slow down, my MacElvy witch. Slow down.”
She stilled. “You’re taking too long. I’ve waited weeks to see them!”
“With such magic you should take your time—make sure you understand the repercussions.” He waited for her small, tight nod before continuing. “The sacrifice for such a small spell is easy,” he said. “But the price will not be named here. It will come when you least expect it, and it will be what the magic deems necessary.”
“I don’t care.” She quivered, a terrier held back from the hunt, all nerves and grit and bone. “I need to know where they are and how to find them.”
“Bryanna.” She turned, seeming to really focus on him for the first time since he’d shown her the pool. “I’m bringing you here as a sign of my trust, my need, and my commitment that I will honor my bargain to you once you have fulfilled your side.”
“Let’s do it.”
“After you’ve worked your magic tonight. We’ll come down here and find your family.”
“No. Now.” Her chin rose, and her eyes sparked defiance. “I have tried, and I failed to cure the curse. I’m afraid if I try again, and fail again, you’ll string me along. You’ll make me try and try until I’m too late and something horrible happens to them. Show me now, or I won’t do any more magic.”
Wild desperation welled inside him. He struggled to appear contained, but underneath his calm exterior his heart pounded in a frantic beat, and he desired nothing more than to toss her over his shoulder again and run from the cavern.
He took a deep breath and attempted to explain. “It’s not a good idea. We should wait to do this until after we try our spell again. This magic is old and wild. It will not behave like your spells. It’s not my kind of magic and it sure as hell isn’t your kind of magic. We don’t know what will happen.”
“I don’t care.” Muscles straining, she advanced on him, her index finger pointed at the center of his chest. “My mother and sister have been alone for too long, and I’m not losing them.” She jabbed him hard with each point, but he stood firm under her assault.
“No. We try the spell first.”
She glared. “No, we don’t.”
In her eyes he saw the desperation of someone who had nothing to lose, and he recognized it from his own years spent staring in the mirror. If he didn’t let her try now, she’d leave, and he’d lose. If he let her do this, and the magic chose the spell’s success as its price, he’d lose. He stood little chance of walking away a whole man, but maybe if he gave in, she might see him as less of her bane and more of a partner.
“If I give in on this, you must promise me we’ll try again tonight, or we leave here now, and we don’t come back.” He held her gaze until her shoulders sagged low, and she nodded.
“I promise.”
He gave her a tight smile as the tension knotting his back relaxed. He held out his dagger, sharp point first. “Then prick your finger and let three drops of blood fall into the pool, and think on your family.”
She reached for the blade and he pulled it away. “Remember, there will be a price as well as the blood sacrifice.”
Her small hand wrapped around his fist. Pulling the hilt toward her, she pricked her finger on the knife’s sharp point. “I’ll remember,” she said.
Three, full, crimson drops fell into the pool, spreading out into a thin, oily layer of red that darkened to black, and obscured the bright blue of the water.
“Think of your loved ones, ask where they are now. There’s no guarantee the pool will choose the time period you want, but it might, and we only have one chance.”
Bryanna leaned over the pool. Kian stuck the dagger back into its sheath and grabbed her waist. He settled his stance and pulled her hips back into the safety of his embrace as her upper body strained to get as far over the pool as possible.
The black, oily surface wavered and a swirl of color formed, morphing into a blurred image that gained focus as it grew. It started off tight, narrowed in on a young woman with long, red-blond curls, a straight nose, and Bryanna’s MacElvy eyes. The picture expanded, until you could see her face was white and stretched with fear.
The picture telescoped out to include another woman, older, her red hair laced with grey. They ran through a forest of pine trees, branches slapping their faces and snarling their hair. Behind them, came three snow tigers, closing in fast.
The older woman glanced behind her at the feline faces intent on the hunt, then turned away and ran faster. The first tiger leaped, guillotine sharp claws extended. The woman’s mouth opened wide in a soundless scream. Then the picture faded into the oily water and was gone.
“Danu, no!” Bryanna fought his grip, struggling to lean further into the pool. Kian braced his feet on the stones of the side and yanked her back. He cradled her to him, hugging her hard as she fought. She pounded on his chest, wailing, “I have to see more, I need to see more!”
“You can’t.” He seized her upper arms tight, his fingers digging deep as she pitched and shoved, flailing like a prize trout in his grip.
<
br /> “Yes, I can.” She strained against his hold. “Give me the dagger, I need more blood.”
“Bryanna! You don’t know what price you’ll pay, it might be their lives.”
She stopped struggling. “You never said that. I would never have looked if you’d told me that.”
“I told you there was a price.”
She stilled. “But it should be my price, not theirs.”
“I have no control over the price, Bryanna. The magic decides. All I know is it will come.”
“Let me go,” she whispered.
He examined her face, looking for signs of rebellion, but the wildness was gone. He released her.
She cast a despairing look into the pool. The last of her blood dissipated into the clear water, leaving it as still and blue as if the vision had never been. “You tricked me.”
“I did not. You insisted on working the spell now. What choice did I have? Now when we do my spell, you’ll at least know that we have a chance of finding them.”
He reached for her.
“Let me go.” She backed away, her eyes accusing. “You should have told me.” Picking up her full skirts, she ran for the exit.
“I’ll come for you at midnight,” he called after her.
She paused, her foot on the first stair, and looked back at him, her eyes cold. “You don’t deserve my help.”
His heart sinking, his hopes in ruins, and the beginnings of an odd pain in the center of his chest, he watched the ruffles of her skirt disappear up the twisting staircase.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Bryanna pulled on her cloak, picked up the lantern, and took one last look around the room. This time, she was prepared for her escape. This time, she had the locket.
She pulled it out from its nest deep inside her bodice. Now that the singing had stopped, it looked like any other pretty piece of antique jewelry. Something her great-great-grandmother might have worn over a high-necked blouse. Certainly not a magical item. But she held it under the lantern light and flipped it open anyway. Inside, the gleaming gold sides were bare, flat, and smooth.
Squeezing her eyes shut she held it tight and let her deepest wish out of where she’d been holding it inside her heart.
She was almost afraid to look. What if she couldn’t make it work? What if without the singing it was nothing but gold. Pretty, but useless. She blew out a breath with her wish and opened her eyes. Reflected inside on the flat interior, a brassy picture of herself walked out the bedroom door, took a right, and moved down the hallway. Over and over she left the room, turned right, and walked until she started over again with barely a flicker.
Swallowing, she clicked the locket shut, tucked it into the top of her chemise, and reached for the door handle. She paused, her hand resting lightly on the latch. Now was her chance. She had to go. So why was she not moving?
As the price for her freedom, Kian would be trapped here as a monster, but that was the queen’s fault, not hers. He’d made it plain, unless she cured him totally, he would keep her prisoner.
He didn’t get it. Her fist clenched around the latch. She was the reason the spell hadn’t worked. He would make her try, and try, and try again. And since she was a failure, she’d try until her family was lost, she was an old woman, and he hated her.
She had to go now, while she stood a chance of saving anyone.
She pushed down on the latch and opened the door, the relief of making a decision helping her wall away the guilt. Darting quick looks from side to side, she checked for Beezel, or any of the nasty, lurking white things. The library, and all the other rooms, were down to the left. And past that, the locked and bolted door containing its nightmare gauntlet of goblins. And to the right? The crystal cave.
The locket led her to the door that concealed the curling spiral stairs descending deep into depths of the warren. She opened it and hesitated, the cool breeze blowing at her ankles and up her skirts. She checked the locket again and saw herself descending the stairs but, that couldn’t be right. She wanted to go up, to the surface, not down. Bryanna closed her eyes, pulled up her deepest wish, and looked again. The picture hadn’t changed.
She clutched the locket and lantern and stepped into the stairway, feeling her way slowly into the depths of the warren and back into the strange, heavy air of the crystal chamber.
The room sparkled and shone in the lantern light. As she skirted the deep blue pool, she couldn’t resist peeking in one last time. Without the blood, its surface stayed cool and flat, reflecting only her own wavering image and the immense stalactites above. She turned her back on the evil temptation of the pool and checked the locket, following its directions deeper into the underground chamber.
Kian paced the workroom, the clicking of his boots on the stone floor increasing the anxiety closing his throat tight. Bryanna should have been here by now. He checked the reflection in the bowl again. The first white sliver of moon had made its appearance. If she didn’t get here soon, it would be too late. The evening’s opportunity would be wasted.
He desperately hoped she would see past her frustration, see that he could only help her and her family once he was truly himself. He was a prince of the Tuatha De Dannan. Bryanna had no idea of the power he would wield once his Gift was restored.
The moon would be full in a few minutes. Another night would be on its way to oblivion, leaving him with only tomorrow night to make this work or delay the spell until the following month. If he retained his elvatian shape at all and wasn’t forced back into the beast by the passage of the moon. To spend another month in that shape having tasted the freedom of his own, that would be torture.
The sliver of white grew and so did his unease.
“Screw it,” he said, and headed for the door.
As his fingers reached for it, the bronze handle moved. A crazy surge of relief rushed through him, shaking him from the inside out. He dropped his hand from the latch. She was here. She cared, at least enough to put aside her anger and help him cure his curse.
The door opened, and Beezel stood shivering and alone in the dim hallway.
The wild rage of the beast lurking inside him rose to the surface. “Where is she?” he growled and pushed past the cringing gnome into the hallway, but there was no sign of Bryanna.
“G-g-gone,Your Highness.”
Kian looked at Beezel as the words entered his ears but refused to penetrate his brain. “Gone?”
“Y-y-yess, Sire, gone.”
“Did you check the library?”
“Y-y-yess.”
“And the dining room?”
“Y-y-yess. She has fled the warren.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. The spell is still in place, there’s no way to leave. She must be somewhere.”
“I’m sorry, Your Highness, I’ve checked everywhere. She’s gone.”
The first flutters of anxiety started deep in his chest, growing bigger and stronger, until they pounded, frantic with denial.
She’d left him.
He pounded his fist against the heavy, carved door, anger, frustration, and fear rushing out of him in an enormous roar. Beezel ducked down, covered his ears and scrambled for a corner.
Kian slammed the door back, hitting the wall again and again until the wood sagged on the ancient hinges. “How could she be so stupid as to unlock that door again?”
He ran down the hallway, heading for the door to the goblin occupied remains of Cairngloss and one of the passages to the front entrance.
Beezel ran behind him, his bare flat feet slapping on the stone floor. “No, Sire, she didn’t go that way,” he gasped out.
Kian turned on him. He shoved his face next to the quaking gnome’s and bared his teeth as if he still had his tusks and fangs. “What do you mean?”
“The door is bolted and barred and the locks show no trace of tampering. She didn’t go that way.”
Kian’s hand was unsteady as he straightened up and brushed loose hair out of his face. His eyes unfocused, he sta
red past Beezel, the knowledge of where she must be lodged painfully in his chest.
“This is my fault.” He’d shown her the Goddess forsaken pool. “She went to see them again.” He pictured her fascination the first time he’d shown her the pool. The way she’d nearly fallen in trying to get to her loved ones. He spun on his booted heel, turned and ran the other way, Beezel’s pattering steps fading behind him as he hit the stairs to the cavern and raced down the slippery stone spiral.
The cavern was pitch dark. No sign of Bryanna, but a wisp of rose scent spiced the air.
He shouted up the echoing stair. “Light! Bring me a fucking light!”
Beezel descended too slowly down the stairs. Kian grabbed the torch out of the gnome’s hand and held it high. The cave sparkled and shone as if full of treasure, but he knew the ugly truth. The glistening cavern held nothing but darkness and misery for any who came here. He thought he’d known the price of showing Bryanna the pool, but as he scanned the room, he had the sinking feeling he’d been wrong.
“Sire?” Beezel stayed on the last stair, his eyes bulging in fear. “Did she get out?”
“I don’t know,” he snarled and stalked through the huge room, heading for the far side where there was another entrance to Cairngloss. One he knew was there, but had never been through. Just before the small hidden passage to the exit tunnel, he hit an invisible wall. He rebounded back, his bones jarring.
Not a wall in sight, but even the torch in his hand refused to pass the invisible barrier of his mother’s spell.
“Beezel!”
“Sire?” The gnome called back from where he stood on the very bottom of the stairs. As long as they’d been trapped here, Beezel had refused to enter the cavern.
“Come here and try to get through the spell.”
“Sire, no, I cannot.”
Prince by Blood and Bone: A Fantasy Romance of the Black Court (Tales of the Black Court) Page 12
