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Midnight's Warrior

Page 24

by Donna Grant


  As soon as the words began to fall from his lips his magic expanded inside him so that he thought his skin would explode from the force of it.

  The magic grew and grew until it came into contact with the barrier of the cave. Every time his magic pushed against it, it pushed back.

  Ramsey peeled back his lips with a growl and dropped his guard so that all of his magic could be used. With a roar, he gave a final shove against the invisible wall. It crumbled beneath the weight of his magic, but by then it was too late.

  The magic had taken him.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Tara hated that Ramsey was gone. It seemed her entire world dimmed when he wasn’t around.

  “Stop being such a imbecile,” she mumbled to herself. “One night doesn’t make him yours for life.”

  Odd how that thought made her almost giddy. If only all she had to worry about was what was going on between her and Ramsey, but Declan was never far from her thoughts.

  And to her chagrin, neither was her mother now that Ramsey had told her she was dying. Despite everything her mother had done, even killing her grandmother, Tara still wanted to see her.

  Tara started when she realized Marcail and Saffron were standing next to her. “I’m sorry. I was lost in my thoughts.”

  “We were just making sure you were all right,” Marcail said.

  Saffron smiled and nodded to Tara’s hands. “You touched Ramsey and the ribbons of magic didn’t show. Can you turn them on and off so easily?”

  Tara lifted her hand and rubbed her thumb over her fingers. “I’m not the one controlling it. I never thought I was, and how it began and then halted, I have no idea.”

  “I do,” Reaghan said as she walked up, a kind smile on her face. “I saw Ramsey the other morning on his way to the tower.”

  Tara knew if she were the kind of woman to blush her face would be flaming. “Oh,” was all she could manage.

  “There’s no need to be embarrassed.” Marcail grinned, her turquoise eyes sliding to Quinn. “These Warriors are certainly difficult to resist.”

  “Difficult?” Saffron asked on a choked laugh. “More like impossible.”

  Reaghan nodded in agreement. “Impossible is right. They don’t stop until they get what they want, and sometimes we have to show them what they want.”

  Tara licked her lips as she listened to the banter of the women. It was so easy to fit in at the castle with the welcome she’d received. It was no wonder they had all stayed through the centuries.

  “What I’m trying to say is that I think after you and Ramsey were together it might have prevented us from seeing the white tendrils,” Reaghan said.

  “Ramsey said the same thing,” Tara said before she thought better of it.

  Saffron chuckled and shared a glance with Marcail. “I think we’ve all shared our Warriors’ beds before they officially laid claim to us.”

  “That’s true. So, no one will look twice at what is growing between you and Ramsey,” Reaghan said.

  Marcail cleared her throat. “What we really came to you for was to talk about your magic. Ramsey said you don’t use it because it’s unpredictable.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Tara said and let loose a long breath. “My magic has always been hit or miss, but the older I got the more it seemed I couldn’t do the simplest things. Every time I tried to make a plant grow it died instead because too much magic went into it.”

  “Have you meditated?” Saffron asked.

  Reaghan asked, “Or found what helps to strengthen your magic?”

  “No and no,” Tara said. She shook her head. “What do you mean, what strengthens my magic?”

  Reaghan shrugged and tucked a strand of curly auburn hair behind her ear. “For me it’s water, but the loch not the sea.”

  “For me it’s fire,” Saffron said with a glance toward the hearth.

  Marcail shifted from one foot to the other and adjusted the watch on her wrist. “And mine is being underground.”

  “I’ve never heard of this,” Tara admitted. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

  A moment later she was being dragged all over the castle to try and discover what would help strengthen her magic. The interest the women were taking in her only made her smile. So she didn’t complain when they tried place after place after place.

  * * *

  Declan stood in the middle of the room he kept in the basement. Shelves were filled with an array of different books pertaining to magic and Druids. He’d devoured them as a child, and learned many interesting facts about magic.

  And spells. Oh, the spells he had learned.

  He’d woken from a fitful sleep with the remnants of a spell lingering in his mind. Though Declan couldn’t recall exactly what the spell was for or the words, he knew that somehow it pertained to Tara.

  She was at the center of his thoughts. He had to find her, had to turn her drough.

  Declan walked to one of the bookshelves and looked at each book before moving to the next shelf and then the next.

  At the bottom of the third shelf he found the small red leather-bound book. He pulled it from the others and smiled as he recalled finding it on his twentieth birthday at a small bookstore in London.

  The owner hadn’t realized how much the book was worth. Declan had paid the twenty-five pounds and left the store with a wealth of spells in his hand.

  Declan thumbed through the pages twice before he found the spell toward the back of the book. “‘A Connection Spell,’” he said, reading the title.

  He’d already used one form of a connection spell, but this one allowed him to enter into Tara’s mind when she slept so he could see her thoughts.

  For the first time in days he truly smiled as he sank into his chair and began to chant the simple, but brilliant, spell.

  * * *

  Tara was about to think there was nothing in or near the castle that would strengthen her magic. And then the clouds broke and a ray of sunlight hit her through the window.

  She immediately turned toward it, and a moment later she heard Saffron gasp.

  “I think we found it,” Reaghan said.

  Tara looked at the women and frowned. “Why? Because I turned to the sun in the middle of January?”

  “No,” Marcail said with a laugh. “Because that was the smallest ray of sun I’ve ever seen, but your entire face lit up. You’re drawn to it.”

  “I’ve always been drawn to the sun,” Tara said with a shrug.

  Reaghan pulled Tara down onto the floor. “Just try it.”

  Tara crossed her legs and looked at Reaghan. “Now what do I do? Just sit here?”

  “Close your eyes,” Saffron urged.

  Tara did as she was told.

  Marcail leaned her hands on Tara’s shoulders from behind and whispered into her ear, “Now think of your magic. Search for it and let it fill you. All of you. Don’t stop, Tara. Concentrate on the magic.”

  The more Marcail spoke the more distant her voice became until it faded altogether. Tara seemed to be floating, but she wasn’t alone. There was something there, just out of reach, something she knew and recognized.

  Her magic.

  She smiled as she called to it and it came closer. When she embraced it as she’d never done before, it suddenly swarmed her until she could feel it everywhere all at once.

  And then she heard the drums.

  They were like a distant echo. She didn’t think more about them as she instead concentrated on her magic. It was as if it were spinning around her and through her. As if it were testing her.

  That thought surprised her, but then again, she hadn’t used her magic much since her grandmother’s death. She’d been too afraid. Her grandmother had been trying to teach her to control it.

  Tara let all thoughts leave her mind as she floated along with her magic. It was heavenly and peaceful. A place where nothing mattered and nothing could harm her.

  The drums sounded again, this time louder and
closer. The beat was hypnotic and it lured her toward the sound. She wasn’t afraid of what she would find. It wasn’t just the music either, but the chanting she heard as well.

  If the music was captivating, the chanting was enthralling. Tara couldn’t understand the chants, but it didn’t matter. For once, everything felt as if it were as it should be. As if she’d finally found a place where she could be a part of her magic and not fear harming someone.

  She smiled at the ancients around her. How she knew that’s who was chanting she had no idea. Only that the knowledge was there and she readily accepted it.

  They urged her to become one with her magic, to accept it. Or there could be dire consequences. Tara wanted to know what those consequences could be, but they refused to answer her.

  She eventually gave up asking and did as they requested. It was as if she could control her magic properly in this wonderful new place she’d found. And she would worry about how to do that when she woke later.

  Tara was so lost in her magic that it took her a moment to realize the chanting and drums were fading again. She wasn’t ready to leave them or to wake.

  “Careful,” she heard a voice near her ear whisper.

  What could the voice mean? She was safe with the ancients. They had told her so.

  “Hello, Tara,” Declan’s voice said from behind her.

  She turned and found him in shadows with a light behind him showing her nothing but his silhouette. “You’re not here.”

  “Oh, but I am. I’ve warned you before that I’m capable of just about anything. It appears I can even invade your mind while you sleep. Except you are no’ sleeping now, are you? Nay, you’re … meditating, which lowered your defenses even more.”

  Tara took a step away from him. “You can’t harm me here.”

  Declan threw back his head and laughed. “No’ physically, nay. But there is so much more I could do. For instance, by the time I’m through with your mind, you’ll do whatever I want. Including killing the Warriors.” He paused. “And becoming drough.”

  “Never!”

  “You should know better than to say never, Tara. You said I’d never find you. Yet I have. Twice.”

  “Ramsey will kill you yet. He hurt you, didn’t he?” she asked with a smile. “I know he did.”

  “I think I’ll have you kill this Ramsey first since he means so much to you.”

  Tara grabbed her head and shook it. “Get out! Get out of my head!”

  She desperately wanted to believe it was all just a dream, a fear that manifested itself in her mind. But even her magic was telling her that Declan was all too real.

  Strong fingers bit into her upper arms as he gave her a vicious yank. “There’s no escaping me now,” he said through clenched teeth.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  “Goddammit, Ramsey, open your eyes!”

  Ramsey inwardly winced at the way Galen bellowed in his ear. “No’ so loud!”

  “About damn time,” Fallon muttered on the other side of Ramsey.

  Alarm swept through Ramsey then. There was only one reason for his friends to be worried. He cracked open his eyes to find that they were inside the cave with only the light filtering in through the entrance, but with their enhanced vision, they could all see as easily in the dark as in daylight.

  Galen dropped his chin to his chest and raked a hand through his hair. “You bastard. Doona ever scare me like that again.”

  Ramsey slowly sat up to find Fallon watching him with hooded eyes. “Do I want to know what happened?”

  “Besides you glowing?” Fallon asked.

  “Glowing?” Ramsey repeated.

  Galen snorted loudly. “Aye, my friend. You were fucking glowing. And you were no’ answering us.”

  “We had to knock you unconscious.” Fallon said it with a wry twist of his lips.

  Which let Ramsey know it had been a much greater affair than either of the Warriors wanted to admit. “And then?”

  “Then you wouldna wake up!” Galen got to his feet and began to pace. “And your magic. My God, Ramsey. I thought Isla and Reaghan had powerful magic. Yours exceeds that by—”

  “Anything we could comprehend,” Fallon finished.

  Ramsey scrubbed a hand down his face and climbed to his feet. “Thank you. Both of you.”

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” Fallon asked.

  Ramsey nodded. “I’ve wasted enough hours already. We need to start searching.”

  “What are we looking for?” Galen asked, but he didn’t seem as interested in discovering it as he had before Ramsey had … glowed.

  Ramsey still couldn’t imagine himself glowing. It wasn’t something he’d ever done before. Why now? He inwardly shook his head and focused on the cave.

  The walls were covered with the writing of his people and Celtic symbols, some small, some large.

  “If anything was left behind it would be here,” he said.

  Since the cave was relatively small, with a large opening in the middle where the six elders probably stood, and ended shortly after the entrance, they didn’t have much area to search. There were multiple scrolls that had been encased in magic to prevent them from succumbing to the elements, but none were important enough to put a hiding spell on the cave.

  “Ramsey,” Galen called.

  He rushed to his friend to find Galen looking at an elaborate Celtic circle knot.

  “I’ve seen this before,” he said as he placed his right hand on the symbol.

  A panel below the symbol moved to reveal a small opening with one scroll inside.

  For a moment, Ramsey simply stared at it. Then he reached inside and took it. Ramsey held the ancient scroll gingerly in his fingers and slowly turned it over until he found the seal.

  “What’s that?” Fallon asked from beside him.

  Ramsey ran his thumb over the mixed red-and-gold seal. “It’s magic mixed with blood. It was only used for the most sacred of documents. Magic is mixed in so only the person who was meant to open it is able to do so.”

  Galen leaned over his shoulder for a closer look. “How? Just by breaking the seal?”

  “You can no’ just break the seal. Because blood was used to create the seal, it takes blood to break it.”

  “Ah. A sacrifice,” Galen said with a nod.

  “No wonder the rumors of Druids performing sacrifices spilled over the land,” Fallon said with a frown.

  “We didna sacrifice lives. Just a little blood. And no’ all Druids had the ability to create seals of this kind,” Ramsey added.

  Galen nudged him. “Can you open it?”

  Ramsey ran his thumb once more over the red-and-gold-colored seal with the image of a skull in the wax, a sadness settling into his soul. “This was my father’s seal. He was most likely the last one to enter the cave.”

  “That’s a skull, Ramsey,” Galen said.

  Ramsey smiled. “There are knotwork designs in it as well. For a family to be given the skull as its symbol was highly prized with my people. It meant the family was no’ only important but incredibly strong with magic as well as having physical strength.”

  “None of which surprises me since we know what a strong Warrior you are. So the scroll is for you?” Fallon asked.

  Ramsey shrugged. “He probably thought me dead, so nay. Yet … if what I read in the pages from the book Galen found are true then maybe.”

  “You have to try.” Galen shrugged when Ramsey looked at him. “I would.”

  Fallon nodded slowly. “I agree with Galen. You have to try.”

  Ramsey carefully set the scroll on the ground. He lengthened one of his claws from his right hand and cut across his left forearm.

  Blood welled quickly, and Ramsey moved his arm over the seal so it would catch each drop. All too soon the wound mended. And the seal didn’t break.

  “It was no’ meant for me,” Ramsey murmured more to himself than the others.

  Once more he lifted the scroll in his hands. He was in t
he process of replacing it in the slot when there was a loud crack and the red-and-gold seal broke in two.

  “It looks as if it was meant for you,” Fallon said, his voice filled with wonder and curiosity.

  Galen rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe since you are now a Warrior, it took more time to recognize that it was you.”

  None of that mattered to Ramsey now, not when he wanted to know what was inside the scroll. What was so important that his father had not only hidden the scroll, but had put the seal on it as well?

  “How long after I was taken did my people disappear?” Ramsey asked.

  Galen glanced at the ground. “It’s estimated between sixty and eighty years.”

  The scroll had been hidden even while other Torrachilty Druids remained. His father had always been selective in what he’d told Ramsey, but never this secretive.

  Ramsey gently unrolled the scroll, and read the first words aloud. “‘Ramsey, my son…’”

  The pain of those words slammed into Ramsey like a hammer. His breath locked in his lungs and his eyes refused to focus. He lowered the scroll and walked to the edge of the cave. “He did know what happened to me,” he said. “My father knew what Deirdre did to me.”

  Fallon placed a hand on Ramsey’s shoulder. “He also knew you would come through it or else he wouldna have left a message for you.”

  Ramsey knew Fallon was right, but the knowledge that his father had known he was in Cairn Toul and had sent men to rescue him left him with a crushing weight that would never leave.

  But he had to know what his father had wanted to tell him. Ramsey began to read again, this time to himself, and the more he read the more concerned he became.

  “Shite,” he muttered when he’d read about half of it.

  Galen was at his side in an instant. “What?”

  “No’ all of my people died in Deirdre’s attack. There were a few who were bidden to go out and find a new place in the world. Men who were destined to keep our line going in some small way.”

  “That’s good, aye?” Fallon asked.

  Ramsey shook his head. “No’ exactly. It would eventually dilute our magic, but even then I’m no’ sure it would be enough for any female to be able to use it and no’ go daft.”

 

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