Over and over, she repeated it in her thoughts, and she began trying to push him out. Feeling more ability than she should have, she used only the barest bit of her power to resist.
“He can open the gateway?” he asked, staring at her. She tried to pull away from him. “This priest can open it? Tell me, Brienne. Now!”
The crushing pain in her head nearly blinded her. She collapsed on the deck next to the tortured man. “Aye, my lord.”
His laughter echoed across the ship and the sea, and every one of his minions was drawn to it. For a moment she imagined that every soul in Scotland and beyond cringed at the evil sound.
“See to him then, Brienne. Keep him alive.” Lord Hugh kicked the man, who roused and peered through a slit where one of his eyes should be. “She is your savior, Corann.”
He walked off, still laughing, calling out orders to get her what she needed. Brisbois stood over her, watching her every move and expression.
“Let me die,” Corann rasped out, grabbing her with his bloodied hand. “I beg you, let me die.”
She wanted to comfort him and tell him the truth, but he could confess it if they tortured him again. When Brisbois handed her a skin of fresh water and she held it to Corann’s mouth, he refused it. Brienne cleaned his wounds and bandaged his broken arm as best she could. A blanket appeared, as did some watered-down porridge from their last meal. He refused that as well, determined to die with his knowledge.
Brisbois stood silently by through the rest of the day, saying nothing but missing not a movement or word she spoke. Lord Hugh stood under the tent on the high platform at the front of the ship and watched everything. From time to time, he would walk over and stand beside her. She waited for him to invade her mind, but he did nothing but watch.
They traveled north along the coast, always north, and she spent some moments watching the smaller boats of fishermen and merchants glide by, though none came too close. The sky remained clear that day and the sea calm, and soon they passed by a huge castle sitting on a rock cliff at the sea’s edge. Lord Hugh’s attention was drawn to it as well.
There was a low humming tone within it, as though some power sat beneath the castle in the rock itself. Was this a place of power, a sacred place, as he’d called it? It took some time and distance before the sound disappeared. Is that what would happen at the circle? As it had in his demonic chamber belowground? Did evil have a sound?
“What will happen?” she asked, against her own decision not to speak to him. She needed to know.
“At the gateway?” She nodded. “You will enter the circle with the warblood. He”—he nodded at Corann—“he will perform the ritual and open it. The goddess will be freed.”
Remembering the sound and shape of the being behind the barrier made her shiver. She had no doubt that anyone in the circle would be dead once the goddess was free and had all of her powers back.
“You think to survive this, then? That she will let you live?” she asked.
A sense of peace filled her as she realized there was no question of her survival—she would not. She only hoped that she could get William and the others away before she died. Lord Hugh strode up to her, grabbing her face and bringing it to his.
“She has promised me great rewards for my loyal service,” he whispered harshly so only she could hear. “I will be at her side, Brienne, as you should be.” He released her. “You are almost out of time to choose the right side in this. Stand with me or be destroyed with the rest when she reigns.”
“But what of the king? You were his guardian and regent, one of his oldest friends and counselors. Will he not fight for his kingdom?”
“His death will make it that much easier to take over.”
She looked away and took a deep breath. So his plan included the king’s death. William’s father. She must warn him somehow, but she could not dare to anger Lord Hugh further.
“Now get back over there and see to that priest.”
He called Brisbois as he walked back to his place at the front. As he spoke to his torturer, the man gazed back at her. She tried to ignore it, but she wondered if he’d just been given his orders to kill her.
Brisbois came now and stood over her once more. She tended to Corann as best she could, squeezing drops of water into his mouth and waiting for him to swallow. Awake, he fought her. Asleep or unconscious, she could get a few precious drops down his throat.
“You frighten him.” Glancing up at the huge man, she was puzzled. “You scare him as no other has ever,” he repeated with something that resembled a smile.
“What makes you say that? His powers are so much stronger than mine. He has knowledge and abilities that I have no idea even exist. How can I frighten him?” she asked.
He shrugged. Sometimes his wordlessness frustrated her. She thought about what she’d seen just now.
“Will you be my executioner?” she asked with a boldness she did not quite feel.
“When the time comes, aye.” The man’s piercing gaze did not move from hers. “I will make it a quick one, girl.” She turned back to Corann when he spoke again. “As I hope you would make mine if the chance came.”
Stunned by his admission, she could not speak. Then, remembering James’s death, she thought that their tacit agreement might be a good thing.
* * *
Will did not believe in failure. The warblood who lived within him now did not either. Even so, he took no chances, reviewing their plan over and over as they crossed the miles north into countryside outside Aberdeen.
In Edinburgh, he’d sent a group of his men and some of the priests ahead by horse overland. The seas were untrustworthy and could send a ship miles and weeks off their course. He could not chance that. The king’s gold paid the way north. Landing south of Aberdeen, he knew she was near.
He did not need to dreamwalk as the seer did—the warblood’s connection to his fireblood was strong and clear. Apparently, the love they felt for each other bonded them in some elemental way he did not yet understand. But he knew that all he had to do was unleash his desire or need for her and the warblood would seek his mate.
Marcus informed him that more of his priests would join them at the circle, even though only one was needed to complete the ritual. Aislinn said little or nothing now, spending most of her time in between dreams and spell-weaving.
Insulted when Roger said the priests were worthless, worse, a burden to protect, Marcus cast a spell that took away his voice. And, he promised, there would be other spells, more powerful ones, to hide them from their enemy and to aid them in sealing the gateway forever.
One thing did give him pause—he discovered that none of them knew the actual ritual—they needed to be ready to read the signs at the circle. But it involved spilling the blood of the two on the altar stone. More than that, blank expressions were the only answers he got from them.
Part of him could still not understand this strange new world in which he now existed. The human warrior in him liked solid ground and strategic plans. That part of him liked knowing that his superior fighting skills would tip the balance of any battle. But this new world with beings of great powers and unknown abilities threatened to undermine his confidence and that of his men.
With every mile closer—to the circle, to the goddess, and to Brienne—William felt his own power growing and strengthening. When they stopped to rest the horses or to eat or take their ease, he practiced his, letting the power rise in his blood until his body changed. Pushing it further and stronger each time, until he became the weapon himself. At his command, at his will.
When they stopped for the night south of Inverurie, a village of some size, and gathered for one more time to finish their plans, Roger—with his voice restored—and Marcus came to him with a plan of their own.
“You say you can sense them—Lord Hugh and Brienne?” Roger asked. At Will’s nod, he con
tinued. “So they can tell you’re coming closer?” Roger looked at Marcus. “And the priests? The same?” Marcus nodded.
Aislinn joined the group then with word that the other group of soldiers sent by land had arrived and that the priests of Far Island were not too long off. And that Lord Hugh and Brienne were only a mile or so from the circle. She looked exhausted from seeking so much knowledge in visions. Haunted and pale. She accepted a cup of ale from him and sat by his side.
“Then it must be us who get Brienne out of there. And it must be before they reach it.”
“Us?” Will asked.
“Us, men—humans only,” Roger said. “He can’t sense us coming the way he seems to sense you. . . .”
“But he will know. He will expect such an attack.” Any good commander would, and from what Will had witnessed, Eudes had much experience and skill.
“Aye.” Roger nodded. “So Marcus and his lads will . . . ?” He waved his hand, waiting for Marcus to fill in the correct word.
“Cast,” Marcus filled in.
“Cast one of his fog spells to cover our movements. One group goes straight in, and the other goes for the girl.”
“And Corann,” Aislinn added. “He is so weak that he prays for death so he will not betray his duty to us and to the gods.”
“Marcus? Will it work?” he asked.
“Only the gods know that, William, and they have not told me yet.” Will smiled at his attempt to lighten such a grave topic. “I think that it could. Lord Hugh will be experiencing the same thing you and Brienne and we are—a sudden change to the powers we have. So if you approach, it could draw his attention away from their”—he nodded to Roger—“attack.”
“This is something we must do soon,” Will told them. “The longer we are here, the more time he has to prepare for us. We do not know how many more he has called to his side to face us.”
They added details, each one using their own skills, talents, and experience to perfect the plan until they all agreed. They would travel the last few miles toward the circle before dawn and make their rescue at daybreak.
Something in the pit of his gut made him call his men together to outline their alternate plan if anything went wrong in the rescue. Then he walked the perimeter of their camp, watching as some of the priests set spells to keep out intruders and others prepared for the morning.
As he lay on his blankets, he tried to reach Brienne on his own, not using Aislinn’s power. He could not see her, but he sent his thoughts out to her. By this time on the morrow, their quest would reach its conclusion and, just as they’d done with the priests, the gods had not deigned to tell him if they would succeed.
Or if evil would be unleashed on an unsuspecting world.
Chapter 24
Brienne shivered herself awake in the cold mist of the morning. The haar was so thick she could not see more than a foot or two away from her. Corann shivered his sleep. She felt him and heard him, but he did not wake. Brisbois had given her a potion for him he said would ease the man’s pain, and it held him in sleep’s grasp now. As she tried to pull the blanket over him, the rope around her wrists kept her from doing so.
“Brisbois? Can you untie my hands?”
She peered through the heavy, moving fog and listened for his reply. Nothing. Had he moved away then, called to some duty by Lord Hugh? Then she noticed the unearthly calm that the fog seemed to cause, for she could hear no one and nothing.
Then it came. His war cry split the silence, and her blood surged at the sound.
William was coming for her!
She needed to free herself and help Corann so they were ready when he got to her. Scrambling to her knees, she tried to loosen the knots. Brienne could still not see into the fog, and it seemed to thicken around her.
“Brienne?” a soft voice whispered from a few yards away.
Before she could answer, the attack began, or attacks, for she could hear fighting in three directions. Men rushed through the camp with torches, trying to defend their lord.
“Brienne? Are you here?” It was Aislinn, the girl from Marcus’s people.
“Aye, and Corann,” she whispered back. “I need help getting free. Where is William?”
Aislinn reached her side, cutting through the rope and checking Corann. “We must hurry. His distractions will last but a short time.”
“Aislinn, what are you doing here?” A man joined them then, grabbing the girl and moving her aside. “Does Marcus know?” he asked as he uncovered Corann and knelt next to him.
“He needs me,” she answered back.
A wind began then, whipping the fog into swirling shapes.
“Get him!” Aislinn looked at her. “We must get away now.”
Brienne stood, ready to follow her to William. The man gathered Corann and put him over his shoulder. Standing, with Aislinn helping him to balance Corann, the man pointed in the direction they must go. She’d taken one step when flames of fire came for her. Moving at an incredible speed, the living fire seemed to hop from torch to torch, growing and changing until Lord Hugh stood before her, illuminating the area around her.
Aislinn was exposed, too, so she grabbed for Brienne’s hand when the fire landed at her feet around her. Shocked by Lord Hugh’s ability to move from flame to flame, Brienne screamed out in pain, for she still could not change and knew she would die. Lord Hugh shifted partly to human form, maintaining a burning grip on her. Since she could not overpower him, she watched in horror as he called out more orders to men he clearly had at the ready.
“Brisbois! Take her now!”
Brisbois stepped from the shadows and grabbed Aislinn, wrapping his huge arms around her and tightening his hold until she could not move.
“She is more valuable than the half-dead one,” Lord Hugh said. “My thanks to your warblood for providing me with one of the most powerful priests I have ever encountered.”
Brienne watched helplessly as Brisbois dragged Aislinn along with them. Lord Hugh’s men gathered behind them, protecting them as they mounted their horses and rode to the circle. The sun broke over the horizon as they reached it, and Brienne could see the field where Lord Hugh’s men already were in position to defend. He rode through the line, and they closed behind him. Reaching the lower of two circles, he dropped her to the ground and dismounted.
The same low hum she’d heard as they’d sailed past the castle on the coast was here, too. But it grew louder with every step they took up the hill. And her power flickered within her, too, unable to resist the call of the stones.
Brisbois stared at her as she allowed it to rise through her skin. Lord Hugh shifted to his fiery shape and continued to surround her, controlling her, but as she watched Brisbois, she remembered what he’d done for her. He’d stopped giving her whatever Lord Hugh was adding to the water to keep her powers from answering her command. Mayhap he hoped she would remember her promise to make his death a quick one?
“Is Paulin within the circle?” Lord Hugh called out.
“Aye, my lord,” Eudes replied, grabbing the reins of their horses. He handed a torch to Brisbois.
“Brisbois, take the priest to him. Make certain she reads the signs and is ready when the warblood arrives.” His torturer dragged Aislinn, crossing into the circle and taking her to the altar stone.
“William will not open the gateway for you,” Brienne said. “He will sacrifice himself before he helps you bring . . . HER . . . into this world.”
“Ah, sweet Brienne.” He laughed as he dragged her closer and closer to the stones, which began to glow and hum louder. “He would not do a thing to save himself, but for you and the seer and his father, he would go to hell and back. And that is exactly what I intend for him . . . and you.”
He used little force against her, believing her still compelled by the magical potion he’d been feeding her. Brienne allowed it an
d did not reveal that her strength and power and ability to change were back and were even stronger because of the stones that seemed to be the source of it. She waited, giving William a chance to save Aislinn before she would take Lord Hugh through the barrier in the heart of the circle and let their fireblood seal it over them.
Brienne had seen it in the memories of the goddess when they’d merged and melded in the barrier. Her blood and his, the last living firebloods, would forever close this gateway, preventing what he was trying to do. She could bring an end to the possibility that their bloodline would rise again.
Now she peered into the circle and saw Aislinn there, at a stone altar with Brisbois at her back and another man at their side. Lord Hugh was focusing his efforts on making the perimeter of the stones a hell. He set it all on fire so that none could pass. Chanting, he walked around it, casting more fire until the stones were almost invisible among it.
“Warblood!” he called out in a voice too loud to be human. “I will destroy them both if you do not do my bidding now.”
It was a voice that combined male and female—Hugh and the goddess spoke. Brienne felt the ground trembling and knew she was attempting to force herself through the barrier that was the center of the circle. All it would take was a slight rupture and she would escape into this world. Their world.
She was held, burning and not being destroyed, against the tallest of the stones. It towered over her and seemed to grow taller by the minute. All the stones did, stretching and groaning and changing. Symbols appeared, being carved before her eyes like metal in her father’s fire pit.
Flames. War hammer. A horse. A tree. A sun. Water moving. A stick figure of a man. A bolt of lightning. Carved, glowing, and disappearing. Again and again, across all the stones.
Then she heard the clamor of fighting coming closer and saw William striding toward her. Her blood roared and her powers soared as he approached.
He was enormous, almost as tall as the stone at her back, with huge muscles. His limbs were weapons that no man could have wielded. His eyes were huge and red, and his skin was the color of the sky and ice. He was death walking, and he was aiming at Lord Hugh.
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