Reluctantly, I allowed him to cut me. The slice was small and quick, but it stung greatly across my palm, blood welling to the surface instantly and dripping onto the ground. I made a fist, allowing the liquid to coat the rest of my hand, and then placed my palm on the stand as well.
Callaghan followed, the three of us silent as Randall laid the Javelin across the tiny altar and produced a piece of paper from his jacket.
“Do ye remember how to say the summons?” Cal question, amused. “Or was yer Gaelic lesson not so good?”
Randall snorted, unfolding the sheet and clearing his throat, not bothering to respond. “This is it,” he proclaimed, an excitement to him I’d never seen before. “We are going to meet a goddess and see the power she wields with our own eyes.”
Shifting uncomfortably, I remained silent, fighting the urge to run. It wouldn’t matter if I did—my essence had been used to activate the Javelin and I’d touched the stones, leaving my mark on this moment forever. I could flee this place as fast as possible and the gods of the Old Religion would still be able to find me, no matter where I hid.
Randall inhaled, the summons forming in his mouth. Glancing at the parchment in his grasp, he read it a few times, as if double-checking what he must say.
In the silence, Callaghan kneeled on the ground, his attention trained on the altar, determination burning in him. He was every bit the pious worshipper, waiting to welcome his deity with open arms.
Frozen, I watched the both of them, every part of me screaming to flee, but my body refused to obey the commands of my intuition. It was as if I could hear my blood boiling within the Javelin, seeping into its core and lighting the mystical fire within that would snuff out the enemies of Ireland in one fell swoop.
“What is that?” Randall asked, lowering his summons and peering at the spear narrowly.
Cal leaned closer to it, turning his ear toward the metal.
“Ye hear it too?” I whispered, surprised.
Nodding, he frowned. “Is it supposed to do that?”
Randall paused, confusion splattered across his features.
The expression filled me with greater fear. Thomas was our architect in this endeavor, our historian and researcher. If something was happening he was unprepared for . . .
“We shouldn’t have done this,” I whispered, taking a step in the opposite direction.
Abruptly, wind gusted past us, all of the torches going dark. Overhead, the stars faded from existence, one by one, until we were left in such complete obscurity it was difficult to breathe. An overbearing weight crushed against my shoulders, forcing me to my knees, my hands burying themselves into the sand.
“Cal,” I called, desperate to at least hear his voice and know I wasn’t the only one being affected so.
“I am here!” He was strained, terror in his words. “What has happened, Thomas? Ye have not read the summons yet.”
“It’s the warning, from the fairy folk.” Interrupting him, I couldn’t help the panic in my voice. “We shouldn’t have done this, Cal!”
“It’s nothing!” Randall barked through the night, angry. “Only a test, to see if we are worthy.”
The blindness continued and I clawed at my throat, feeling as if I were suffocating. “It cannot be a test if we haven’t summoned anything!” I growled.
Had we, though? By offering our blood to The Red Javelin, had we condemned ourselves to a lifetime of suffering and pain? Was the writing on the handle meant to discourage mankind from using so powerful a weapon? What had the three of us been thinking, assuming we could use such old magic in whatever way we wished? There were consequences for every action. Why had we not considered this one?
“Shut up, O’Rourke,” Randall spat. “I’m thinking. Nothing I read said this would happen.”
Enraged, I flung my arms into the abyss, aiming for the spot he had been standing in before the darkness took us. How could he not see this was terribly misconstrued from what he claimed would happen? Unfortunately, my touch connected with nothing, and I collapsed into the sand, gasping as the pressure of the air thickened.
A flash of light burst before my eyes and I turned away, feeling as if I’d been burned. The intensity died almost instantly, though, and I peered toward the altar, heart racing. With a gasp, I winced at the red glow. It came from nowhere and everywhere at once, emerging from the darkness like an angel from heaven, sent to rescue us. I imagined it was the sword of Michael, the weapon licking the night with fiery flames, chasing it away. Finally, I could see my brother and Thomas, both kneeling beside me, mouths agape as they stared at the glare that had saved us from severe pressure and eternal black.
And then it screamed.
My relief fled in an instant. The cry was jarring and threatening, a sound an animal makes when attacking. Covering my ears was not enough to stop the pain the noise caused. Scared witless, I stared hard at the light, at last seeing the beast that stood in the center of the fire, knowing it was no angel.
It had great, black, leathery wings and horns, its body muscled and lean. Claws extended from the hands of the dark fairy, its teeth pointed and gleaming in the flames that surrounded it. The red of its glare was the same as the shaft of the Javelin as it examined the scene, as if considering who to attack first.
Frozen, the three of us watched the beast.
Understanding filled me as I viewed the being considering us. I’d always believed there was truth in all things—every Templar did. But, it had never occurred to me it was actually true. There were things out there that were terrifying and dangerous. The treasure I’d once assisted in protecting was powerful and deadly. It was too much for any one man to bear, or any group of men. The Order hid everything to protect it—even from themselves.
And I’d imagined myself ready enough to use it to my own advantage, to try and direct powers I did not understand. In that exact moment, I vowed to betray my fellow Knights again. I would go to my grave protecting our secrets and keeping the treasures we held out of the hands of those who would abuse them, as I had once thought to do.
Then, as one, Randall and Cal jumped to their feet, diving for the spear.
The fairy howled, beating its wings, the appendages batting against the men as they tried to attack. Claws attempted to grab them, missing by mere inches. They each rolled a different way, assessing their situations, faces grim.
Another snarl pierced the air, the creature stepping onto the altar and looming above us, its maw swinging to and fro as it glared at each man in turn. If Cal or Randall got too close, it lunged toward them, snapping its dangerous jaws threateningly. It was quickly becoming clear they needed to attack together if they hoped to get any headway made in the battle.
“Tristan!” Cal yelled, his eyes trained on the beast. “What are ye doing?”
Stunned, I still sat in the sand, cowering before the beast. At the sound of my brother’s voice, though, I managed to shove to my feet, having no idea what to do.
The beast’s toes twitched in response, resting along the edge of the spear, as if it intended to steal it.
“Do not let it take the Javelin!” Randall roared, rushing toward the thing. He produced a small blade from his boot, ducking under the arm that beat toward him, and stabbed the tip of it into the creature’s wing as it tried to knock him away.
Shrieking, the creature lashed out and struck him in the chest with its claws. Randall went flying backward, tumbling from the circle.
To my surprise, the creature followed him, jumping past me and landing in the sand with a thud, half flying, half running toward Thomas, screeching.
The Javelin remained on the altar, unbothered by the beast that had appeared beside it. Peering toward my brother, I saw him nod. As Cal rushed to the aid of Thomas, I leapt toward the pile of stones, grabbing the spear and extending it to its full length in one swift movement.
Spinning, I pulled my arm back, ready to throw the spear at the beast and end the battle. Randall was practically in the
arms of the monster, Cal racing to him, shouting words I couldn’t hear over the sound of the fairy’s fury.
Randall extended his hand, grasping Cal’s fingers with his own. Then, as if in slow motion, he tugged my brother forward, putting him in the path of the beast, trading places with him.
“No!” I screamed, running forward. Within a few strides, I was at the beast’s back, and I raised the spear high, thrusting it into the muscled flank. The creature cried, arching at the contact, and I propelled myself around the monster, to the aid of my best and most loved friend, the man I shared everything with. I reached for him, grabbing hold of his wrist.
Cal’s hand tightened on me, his features crashing as the creature’s arms locked around his chest. For a split second, he was the picture of terror. Then, acceptance covered his face and he smiled at me, squeezing my arm as he pulled me to him.
And then he pushed me away with so much strength I went sprawling into the sand.
“No!” I bellowed again, struggling to get to my feet.
Fire surrounded the monster and my brother, his screams piercing my ears, and they were suddenly gone. The dark cloud smothering us rolled across the sea like fog, the torches lighting the circle as if nothing had happened.
Getting to my knees, I stared at the spot where Cal should have been. There was nothing, not even an impression in the sand where he’d once stood. The Red Javelin had disappeared with him, fleeing to the Otherworld with the beast I’d stuck it in.
Confusion and disbelief filled me. I couldn’t tear myself from the spot, refusal filling me at as I tried to put together what happened.
“No.” Randall’s voice was soft, horror etched into every part of it.
Jolted from my musings, I saw him examining the altar.
“We lost Cal and the Javelin.” He swallowed hard, closing his eyes, as if battling for control. His body shook, fists at his side. It wasn’t out of anguish, I realized. Randall was quaking with rage, not an ounce of regret displayed for the loss we’d suffered.
“My brother is dead,” I sputtered weakly, my lip trembling as soon as I’d spoken the truth. “Dead because of . . . ye.”
A single spark of rage grabbed hold of my gut.
“Dead because we didn’t plan for every outcome.” Thomas sounded oddly clipped and void of emotion.
I stared blankly at him. “Dead because ye pushed him in the way!”
His head snapped over, his eyes narrowing as he glowered at me. “What happened was an accident. I didn’t mean for him to be taken or hurt.”
Unconvinced, my hands clenched. “Ye were the one the beast was after. The one that hurt it. The one that should have been taken.” My voice began to shake, anger continuing to flood me as I realized the truth of what I was saying. “Callaghan is no more because ye sacrificed him in yer place!”
His mouth snapped shut, his gaze going to the spot where the pair burned away. “Such power,” he muttered, the sound barely reaching me. “I’d no idea.”
“Ye killed him!” Launching forward, I tackled him, burying my fist in his face.
Grunting, he returned the blow, his fingers bruising my side. For a few minutes, we wrestled each other, trading shots, rolling in the sand like two animals, bleeding and growling.
Finally, our bodies collided with the altar, rocks tumbling on top of us. One of them bore Cal’s handprint, still wet and sticky. Grasping it, I raised it high, mad with blood-lust as Randall flinched beneath me. He struggled as I gripped his neck, and I willed myself to crush his windpipe with sheer force.
Death was not good enough for the traitor, though. I wanted him to suffer, to feel the pain I did now, to wish for death and never receive it.
“I will ruin ye,” I growled.
Randall choked out a chuckle, his fingers digging into mine as he glared at me. “What will you do?” His eyes flashed dangerously. “Confess to the Masters what we did? Blacken your name alongside mine? Destroy your brother’s reputation and topple everything he stood for? Taint the family O’Rourke and the honorable service they’ve provided to The Order?”
I faltered, my grip loosening on his throat.
“You will do nothing,” he whispered, shoving me off him. “Not without condemning yourself and Callaghan along with me. You’ll break your grandfather’s heart. Your grandmother’s, too.”
Dropping the stone, I stared at Cal’s handprint on it, realizing the truth of what Randall shared. There was no way I could bring him to justice without further injuring my brother. The truth would destroy everything my family stood for. I would no longer be welcome in my home, if I was allowed to live after what I’d done.
“That’s what I thought,” Randall went on, snottily, pushing me aside and getting to his feet. “You will say nothing, because you are nothing. And you always will be.”
Kicking the altar angrily, he stormed away, leaving me.
Moisture began to sprinkle on me, the system overhead breaking, waves of the ocean crashing into the shore. Eventually, the droplets grew in size and intensity, bathing me in a cold that seemed to seep into my very bones.
Cal’s handprint had smudged when I’d picked the rock out of the pile, leaving a red smear across my palm. As I stared at the blood on my hands, I began to shake, tears welling in my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, pressing the gore to my chest. “I’m so, so sorry.”
The memory faded, leaving me with tears on my cheeks. Gazing at Samantha, I shrugged, not knowing what else to say. “I left,” I said simply. “And didn’t tell anyone what happened. Everyone thought Cal deserted to join King James’s army. When he never came home, they assumed he was killed in battle. Gran mourned for a full year. Grandfather refused to speak of him ever again, angry he abandoned his cause as a Templar. I—” Pausing, I cleared my throat. “I couldn’t talk of him. It filled me with too much guilt.”
Rubbing my arms, I shook my head, turning away. “If I’d refused to take part, if I had convinced him it was a bad idea, that it was wrong, he might still be alive today. But I didn’t. For the past ten years, I have lived with the image of him being grasped by that beast and stolen from me, unable to find the words to tell what happened to him. Until now.
“I will understand if ye don’t want to be with me any longer.” It was harder to say than I’d thought it would be. “Now ye’re aware of my dealings as a Black Knight—that’s what I was, after all. I may not have realized it then, or made the conscious decision to become one, but that doesn’t excuse my actions. I have spent each day attempting to atone for my activities and the life taken because of them. I have agonized countless nights, wondering if I was right in remaining silent. I know now, I was not. Randall would have been captured and taken care of, as he deserved. My actions have caused more than one soul to be lost at his hands. I’d not blame ye for leaving me. Lord knows I have never deserved ye, despite my pleas to Him to let me keep ye.”
“Tristan.” Her speech was soft and pained, a quick intake of breath alerting me to the fact she was crying.
“No.” I interrupted her roughly. “I don’t want to hear ye say it wasn’t my fault. That I didn’t know. I did, Sam. I consciously stole and went against The Order. I knew something wasn’t right about what Randall wanted to do, but I went along with it anyway. I need to finish what I started that night. I need to get the Red Javelin back.”
“What?” The statement surprised her, her voice squeaking. “What are you talking about?”
Moving to face her, I exhaled slowly. “My fight against Thomas Randall began that night. If there is no earthly way to kill him now, then I will do the unearthly. I will take that spear and shove it through his pathetic heart, for me, for ye, and for my brother, Cal.”
Samantha stared at me, her mouth hanging open slightly. For a moment, she remained completely silent, her eyes all but glazing over as she gazed at my tense form. I didn’t know what she was thinking, or if I even cared for her opinion just then.
Tho
mas Randall would no longer lord this painful memory over my head. Nor would he threaten my family and continue to run free, causing havoc. Rage filled me whenever I considered the vast number of times I could have finished him in the past. Three years together on the Adelina, and not once had I been man enough to do what was needed, what my honor and duty to my brother demanded. I’d been more forgiving, less inclined to admit to myself there was a person who could easily turn Black Knight under my command, all because I feared he’d speak about that night on the beach. Never again would I let fright dictate the actions of my day-to-day life.
Sam closed her mouth and stood, brushing the sand from her backside as she did so. Her hair fell in front of her face, masking her features as she sighed, but I recognized the sound of acceptance all the same. It was surprising—I’d expected I’d have to convince her of my plan—but a welcome reaction.
Studying me, she tucked her tresses behind her ear, her expression thoughtful and a trifle worried. “How will you find the Red Javelin?” she asked carefully. “That . . . demon thing took it, too, didn’t it?”
“Aye, it did.” Taking a deep breath, I glanced toward the entrance of the cave, wondering how far off Mark and Randall were. It would do no good if the bastard heard my plan to murder him before it came to fruition. “But that part is easy enough. I know where the creature came from and where it returned to.”
She paused, raising an eyebrow as she folded her arms. “You do?”
I smiled tightly, knowing I appeared grim as I did so. “I do. I had the inscription on the shaft of the spear translated. It took some time, and a few mistakes in remembering the characters, but I eventually discovered what the warning detailed.”
There was some relief in sharing the truth with her. Confessing my misdeeds had lightened my conscience, albeit a small amount. If I were going to truly wash away the stains that marked my soul, I would have to reveal my actions to my leaders and family. That was a task for another time, though.
“Well?” Samantha asked, returning me to the moment at hand. “What did it say?”
Stolen Away_A Time Travel Romance Page 18
