by K H Lemoyne
Logan winced, hardly able to bear the pain now clearly radiating from his cousin. Or was this his own pain turned in on him? Perhaps there wasn’t a difference.
“I’d rather go down fighting on the battlefield with good old-fashioned honor than be strapped to tubes and beeping machines.” Robert leaned forward and grabbed his arm. “This is what I need. Promise me. When the time comes, you’ll go. Promise.” He shouted the last and gripped tighter.
Logan fought his own despair because Robert’s agony was tenfold, written all over his face and rippling in pulsing waves from his body. How had he hidden this from him?
He blinked, unable to meet Robert’s gaze because he’d rather rip out his own heart than lose another person he loved. Looking into those familiar eyes, Logan realized this was going to be the hardest thing he’d ever done. There wasn’t time to consider, why this? Why now?
It didn’t matter. Robert’s need took precedence and he couldn’t refuse. “I promise.”
Bri made it back to the cottage as the sun reached its peak. Logan and Robert followed her arrival twenty-five minutes later and the air thickened with tension. Solemnity shrouded the group.
She’d already checked on Fiona. The girl followed Grainne everywhere, still without talking. Her energy level was better, though it would still take weeks for a full recovery.
“She’s doing well.” Grainne sorted through the herbs on her table, segmenting some for crushing and others to be bundled and wrapped. “You leave with the men at sunrise?”
Bri nodded.
“Then come and sit with me, lass.” She touched the ring on Bri’s finger as she sat beside her. “You’ve a husband now.”
“Pledged and promised.” The words came out cold and harsh in a way she hadn’t intended. She struggled to make sense of what her marriage meant to her—to him. He obviously put stock in their vows. But he also held an unspoken commitment to return home. Both their families were at risk, but his cousins still knew nothing of the threat, leaving them more vulnerable. Was she with him or not?
Grainne shook her head. “He knows about his kin?”
Bri leaned back, startled. “You know about Robert?”
“The man came to me. Goddess knows I tried for a cure. Not even Agnes could help him. She sent me a message to leave him be. ’Twas the way of things.” With a sigh, she patted Bri’s hand. “You, perhaps, can help him.”
Bri ignored Grainne’s strange reference to a telepathic link with Agnes. Everyone had secrets and Grainne kept hers fiercely. “I don’t have the power—”
“My child, give him what you do have. Then do the same for that husband of yours.”
“Grainne, he’s—”
“He loves you. You love him. That’s all it takes.”
“He needs Robert cured.”
“It’s you he needs most.” Her gnarled hands cupped Bri’s cheeks. “You’ve been like my own since you came through a blazing hole in the night sky. I’ve always been honest with you. The future doesn’t have to be only the way you’ve pictured. Life holds options, changes. Some heartbreaking. And many breathtaking.”
“I know,” Bri whispered. “But I’m afraid if I make the wrong choice—again, I’ll hurt Logan this time.”
“Ah, lass. See? There’s my point. You didn’t make the wrong choice the first time. You’re here.” Grainne swept her hand around the cottage. “We’re all here. None of this would be had you made another choice. Have faith you both are stronger together—strong enough to be a beacon to those brothers of yours.”
“And if that doesn’t work?”
“Then you will have provided the Makir strength to defend his bloodline and saved more lives than you can imagine. Not such a poor mistake.”
Bri clenched her fist then drew Grainne into a tight hug. “Have I told you how much I love you? And Hefin?”
“Every day, lass. Now, go help those two men.”
From the doorway of the cottage, Bri watched Logan shove his hands in his pockets and turn away from Robert. He shot her a brief glance, then walked away.
Robert shook his head and waved her over beside him on the fallen log. “He’ll come around. Just give him time.”
“What if we don’t have time?”
Robert shrugged with sympathy. “I’m in no rush. Are you going somewhere?”
She massaged her hands and shook her head. “I have no control over what happens here.”
“You do if you choose to go through the next portal.”
She nodded and took a seat beside him. “How do you feel?”
“Don’t treat me like I’m an old man, Bri.”
“Bri?” she asked with a laugh. “What happened to Princess?”
“You’ve graduated. Since your marriage your status has changed.”
“A real marriage, perhaps. Logan only saved me from becoming another of the Mackinnon clan, which I appreciate. But I won’t hold him to his promises.”
“Right. And he’s nothing special to you, either.” Robert shook his head. “You’re smarter than that. Logan doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to. He married you because he loves you.” Then he lowered his voice. “And he needs you.”
“He’s never said as much.”
“Really? You need it spelled out? How many times has he been there for you? He knows when you’re in trouble because he’s always looking out for you.”
“He does the same for everyone.”
With a sigh, Robert scrubbed at his face with his hands. “What will it look like when you’re sure? Because if you’re expecting him to drag you off by your hair to a tower then you’re right, he won’t do that. Do you want him?”
“I—”
“Answer the question,” Robert barked.
“Yes, I want him,” she snapped back and then slapped her hand over her mouth, ashamed at her outburst, but feeling better than she had all day.
He laughed. “Then go seize what you want. And make him happy.”
“Bringing you home will make him happy,” she said softly.
“He can’t save me. My absence will upset him, but he will survive this and keep fighting if he has you. If he loses you—” He reached over for her hand. “I don’t mean to come down on you so hard, but I need you to make me a promise.”
“Anything.” Her response was quick and sure.
“When the portal opens, promise me you’ll get Logan through. Whatever it takes, you’ll go with him and make him leave.”
She let out a slow breath through shaking lips and nodded. “I promise. Now, my turn.”
He raised a brow.
“I want to touch you. To connect you with me, with us.”
He bent his head, as if considering for a second, then opened his arms. “Come here. I never got to hug the bride. I think I also unleashed a monster by telling you not to hold back on your powers, didn’t I?”
With a hand over his heart, she hesitated. “You don’t mind?”
“As long as it won’t hurt you.”
“Of course not.”
“You’re a bad liar, Mrs. MacKenzie.”
“I wouldn’t have this power if I couldn’t handle it.” She curled against his chest, her other hand in his, and closed her eyes.
She focused on the beat of his heart and kept a tight rein on her sorrow as the swirls of black and gray shifted before her. The process of descending into a mind and body progressed faster each time she exercised her power. With delicate scrutiny, she assessed his layers of flesh and blood, organs and tissue, each riddled with foreign substances, diseased bugs hiding in the healthy sections of his anatomy.
There was no way she could rid him of the infections.
Curtailing her physical search, she moved to his mind. Crisp, defined sections of memory spanned before her, unaffected, as yet, by his illness. While his memories were untouched, his strands of power and resistance were fragile from assault. Paper-thin fibers of transparent red struggled to grow, only to have the blackness engulf th
em. Having no option to build him a wall of defense as she had with Logan, she wove her own strand. One large, thick strand of gold aimed straight for the center of his thoughts. She willed another cool, gold wave toward his heart. A shimmer of silver followed and a dose of Grainne’s green pursued in tandem.
Satisfied she’d at least bolstered him, she proceeded deeper into his mind. She didn’t stop until all she could see were miles of his memories surrounding her. With a steady surge of power, she poured energy into her gold and pushed the outer lace of silver that followed her farther and farther toward the boundaries of Robert’s mind. A wisp of purple flickered like heat lightning, there one moment. Gone the next. A pulse of power thrummed through her, along her skin and into the pipeline, growing beyond her capacity to maintain.
One more second.
As the lace of silver reached the farthest corners, she let go. An explosion of gold showered across the memories, miniscule dots of color―green, blue, brown, purple, and more followed―sinking deep everywhere they touched.
Slowly, she retreated and pulled the remains of her gold-and-silver, candy-striped thread with her. She sped past memories now sparkling like glitter. Past the fringe and blackness. Past the gray and ash attacks of disease. Gently, she released him and surfaced. His heart beat beneath her cheek and his hand warmed hers.
Bri smiled to herself. Come what may, she’d found a way to hold him to her.
She could do nothing for the body. Even leveraging Grainne’s abilities, she couldn’t enhance upon the powers she networked. But perhaps—
She opened her eyes and pushed back, looking into Robert’s face. The lines of fatigue had faded, his skin tone more pink than white—not a long-lasting effect, though any benefit helped.
“What did you do?” he asked.
She smiled. “I shared a tiny bit of each person with you.”
He inhaled deeply, as if he hadn’t experienced fresh air in days. “Thanks. Now, go find Logan.”
Logan stood beside the falls, not seeing the water or hearing the birds. No peace entered his consciousness, only the throbbing of his head and ache in his heart.
The closer someone became wedged in his heart, the harder the loss. A human condition. But he was tired of people being ripped from him, each one more painful than the last. Robert’s loss—he refused to prepare for. Whatever happened to happily-ever-after, and dying-peacefully-of-old-age-in-one’s-sleep? There had to be an answer. Given enough time, he would figure it out.
Robert didn’t deserve his fate. He was worth so much more than this bitter, lonely end devised by a sorcerer neither of them had ever set eyes on.
He could sense Bri’s presence. Her attempt at not interrupting his solitude was in opposition to the sadness projecting from her heart.
She moved behind him, reaching for his shoulder as he turned to look at her.
“I felt a surge,” he said, not sure he wanted an explanation.
“I tried sharing a little strength with Robert.”
God, he couldn’t handle this. He turned away and crouched near the water. Head in his hands, he tried for control because he couldn’t stop his own agony, or Robert’s, or the backlash he was causing Bri, from spilling out. And none of his powers proved any help in coming up with a solution.
She knelt behind him. Her body curved around him, holding him in an embrace he wasn’t sure he wanted. He needed the grief, the anger, but he wanted her warmth. Even if one day he would have to contend with her leaving as well, he wanted what she offered now.
He turned into her arms, pulled her close, and buried his face against her hair. Nothing resonated in him but the heat of her life, a world apart from everything around him. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t accept your apology.”
She’d blocked her emotions, and he lifted his head to decipher why. Her soft smile, the coolness of her hand across his brow, and her light kiss eased him again.
“It’s not needed. You’ve done nothing wrong,” she said. Her finger covered his lips as he considered a rebuttal. “We have nothing here but time. Let it go, Logan. I have you safe. Just let it go.”
With an exhale, he pushed her onto the mossy bank, laid his head beside hers, wrapped her in his arms, and closed his eyes. Her fingers stroked through his hair and the delicate rhythm of her breath against his lips and eyelids soothed back the madness of the last few days.
He captured her hand and pressed it to his lips. At the cool gold of her ring, he opened his eyes and scrutinized it further.
“Was it your mother’s ring?” Bri asked.
He shook his head, then paused. “Perhaps.” He looked at her. Something had changed. Every line was relaxed, her lips full and yet serene. “My mother’s was a different pattern. The stones were the same—a match to my father’s ring, the one I wear now.” He turned their joined hands and glanced at his ring. “I looked for her ring for years after her death, even asked my father. He said it disappeared when she died.”
Her eyes widened, faint flecks of green from the trees reflected in her soft gray. “A magical set of rings connected with the Makir?”
“I hadn’t considered it until now, but yes. I believe so.”
“The match to your ring chose this one.” She wiggled her ring finger.
He angled her lips closer. “As I chose you,” he said with a kiss.
21
Brief glimpses of blue sky shone through the trees. By all visible signs, a lovely day for Fiona to meet her new guardian. Logan glanced around them, gauging their path to be halfway between Agnes’s cottage and the castle. According to Robert’s scrutiny of the laird’s maps, ten to fifteen miles still separated them from the Mackinnon’s northern border. Given the salty air on the breeze, they couldn’t be more than a few miles from the firth.
He concentrated on the change in the terrain from hills, to forest, to marsh, keeping his senses open for Owain’s minions. A small percentage of his attention tracked Baven and Nial’s progress in front of him.
Thankfully, Fiona adapted well to horses. No matter how steep or jarring the trail, she rode before him on his horse with ease. She’d refused another rider. And while they’d been lucky for the transportation to reduce their travel time, the laird’s men arrived with only two extra horses. Hefin had remained behind, and Bri now rode behind Robert. Not ideal if they were attacked.
Ahead, a thick copse of trees hid water, but the rush of a swift current was audible even over the hooves of the horses.
They traveled through the brush and came out of the tree line directly below a falls. It fed into a calm stream cut along the rocky shoreline, and widened to a river half a mile farther.
Logan glanced down at Fiona, secured in a warm MacDougall plaid of scarlet and green. Bri’s addition of fur-lined boots guaranteed warm feet. The entire trip, Fiona’s eyes had been wide with expectation, though fear lingered, and an unhealthy pallor still haunted her complexion.
Last night, he’d explained to her what would happen. Detailed the people who would keep her safe in her new life and the need for her to make this change. She’d listened throughout his entire speech, though he wasn’t certain she’d understood. After he’d finished, she’d come and hugged him, as if he needed the reassurance instead of her.
This morning, without urging, she’d wrapped her few belongings, kissed Grainne and Hefin goodbye, and joined him at his horse.
She glanced up at him now, as Mackinnon’s men halted their horses and waited for him.
Logan bent his head to Fiona’s. “The warrior, your personal guard who’s meeting us here, is highly valued by Laird Mackinnon.”
Connor stepped toward them from a secluded spot behind the trees, evidently having watched their approach.
Fiona stared fearlessly ahead, but she clasped Logan’s hand tighter as he dismounted.
He lifted her down, noted Robert helping Bri from his horse, and took quick stock of the open rocks bordering the trees and stream. Earlier, instinct had
pushed him to urge Nial and Baven to step up their pace. His gut kept him glancing uneasily over his shoulder. Robert’s actions mimicking his didn’t reassure him.
Every access to the stream-turned-river was exposed, but a boat offered a safe option to escape. Probably the reason Baven had selected this location for the exchange.
Connor had moved to the top of a steep path leading down to the stream and waited. Moored at the bottom, two men in long, green cloaks waited with oars raised in a rowboat with space enough for eight. An elderly woman, also cloaked, her wrinkled skin the warm, rich color of mahogany, remained in the boat. Her absence at the initial exchange was a clear sign Connor would be Fiona’s first contact and foremost connection with the world.
“Did you see any others?” Connor’s voice rose heavier and deeper than Logan remembered, projecting authority and command.
The change seemed to surprise Nial too. He raised a brow to Baven, but answered the young broad-shouldered man quickly. “We saw nothing. However, I’ve had suspicions since we left the cottage.”
Connor didn’t wait for Logan to bring Fiona. He met them halfway, and knelt on one knee before her. Poised at eye level, he allowed her a good long look at him and returned her gaze without flinching.
Logan watched Fiona’s reaction to her new guardian with concern. Petite and fragile, she looked as if a strong breeze could blow her away. If she took this poorly, they’d be left with no good choices.
Then Connor extended his hand. “Will you come to me, little one? I promise to show you beauty like you’ve only imagined.”
She glanced at the handle of the sword slung across his back, then at his knife, the hilt visible at the top of his boot.
To his credit, Connor didn’t push her. He waited, with no change in his expression. “I’ll be your knight, my lady, and protect you from the fiery dragons.”
To Logan’s amazement, Fiona smiled, walked to Connor without hesitation, and took his hand.
The young man seemed hardly old enough to guard this girl, but his confidence and manner had won Fiona’s trust with a maturity beyond his years. Connor’s hand on Fiona’s looked firm, yet gentle. Startling since the top of her head only reached mid-chest on the young warrior. Logan stepped back, satisfied at releasing his claim of protection for her. If there were fiery dragons, he didn’t doubt Connor would tame them for Fiona.
