by Olivia Norem
Kat eyed her covertly and watched her struggle to keep her eyes open. Sophia yawned and stretched as she cradled the flask like a baby. “Perhaps we should rest. Just a bit,” Sophia crooned.
“Good idea. Are you warm enough?”
Sophia tumbled to her side and promptly passed out. Seventeenth-century knock out drops. When she did wake and this whole ordeal was over, Kat was going to have to get the recipe for that stuff.
Kat breathed out a heavy sigh of relief and tucked another length of tartan securely around Sophia’s shoulders. Good. The last thing she needed was Sophia screwing up this operation. Kat removed the flask containing the drugged wine from Sophia’s grasp. She just hoped she’d be able to rouse the woman by the time she returned, as she was unfamiliar with the strength of the sleeping potion, and she hadn’t watched too closely to see how much Sophia had ingested.
Kat blew out a gusty breath. Diazepam or Rohypnol was so much more precise. And predictable. She took a last look at Sophia, the horses, and this ominous place. Kat rubbed her arms and added another log to the fire. No more stalling.
It was time to end this.
The rubber soles of her shoes gripped the moss-covered stones well. Kat was practically climbing hand over hand to reach the top of the rise Sophia had indicated. This bitch of a demon sure as hell wasn’t making this easy. Pulling herself up over the last embankment, Kat unfolded to stand in front of a small dark recess in the stone edifice.
The sounds of crickets and night birds had all fallen away as Kat skimmed into the mouth of the cave. The sharp hoot of a distant owl punctuated the quiet. Kat jumped at the sound. A reflexive hand pressed over her heart and she cursed her apprehension. Get a grip, Kat. She let her fear wash away with a slow breath. Giving her eyes time to adjust, she discarded the idea of descending the mountain to retrieve a torch or chancing a beam from her penlight from her bag.
Patience and observation. Isn’t that what one of her nefarious tutors Joey Sixty had taught the Goldman children? Joey Sixty had drilled into Kat’s brain at a very young age the key to any successful boost was to respect the venue. Wait sixty-seconds before entering and be gone in another sixty. But Joey’s targets were often brick façade estates with state-of-the-art security systems and maybe the odd troupe of guard dogs. Kat was fairly certain Joey never faced an enchanted cave, yet Joey’s mantra paid off. The outlines of the cave were becoming more defined and if she wasn’t mistaken… was that a dim light around a corner?
Kat inched forward, keeping her back pressed to the cool wall. She felt no heavier than a breath of air. The familiar tang of danger pulsed through her. It was always like this at the apex of a job. The rush of adrenaline versus the nagging reasoning of caution and warning bells to keep a cool head. Teetering on the edge of anticipation, Kat ventured exploratory fingertips along the breadth of the corner. Crisscrossing step over step, her body followed the path of her hand.
Rounding the corner, a few steps ahead, a large elliptical opening glowed with the faintest tinges of blue. The dormant spot where the mirror had singed her thigh returned with a pulsing pain, seeming to answer the call of light. There was no doubt this was the place. Kat stretched a tentative hand into the translucent cavity. It felt nearly gelatinous and the entire thing quivered beneath her fingers.
She snatched her hand back. Kat hesitated, almost reluctant to step through the opening, but what she needed wouldn’t be found here staring dumbly at a passage made of supernatural jelly. What she needed to pinch lay on the other side of this invisible membrane.
Kat held her breath and plunged through quickly. She darted to the immediate left and did a quick inspection of her body. Her shoes, her bodysuit, and everything she held remained intact.
The pathway ahead beckoned. The floor inclined upward, and then took a slight downturn in the bluish shadows as Kat ventured forward cautiously. Several hushed minutes passed as Kat finally found herself in an opening that took her breath away.
The cavity stretched before her. It was at least three football fields long and so vast the space seemed to swallow her whole. A jagged menagerie of soapy stalactites clung to the ceiling and beckoned her fingertips to trace over their waxen-like points to determine if they were as cool and smooth as they promised. To climb to their elevation, Kat imagined it would take hours to scale, and time was the one commodity she did not have.
An eerie blue haze reflected the veined stone walls, which appeared to be polished mica in gentle sheens of gray-ish greens and blacks. The light grew brighter as she ventured forward, its source coming from the brilliant crevasse at the far end of the expanse. An elliptical cut hewn into the stone at least twenty meters high glowed with concentrated light. The blue beams beckoned Kat like an eager pilgrim to a makeshift altar.
As she stepped down the narrowing stone path, she couldn’t help but shiver at the odd, recessed expanses of glassine surfaces to her left and her right. With each step forward, shadows churned beneath the semitransparent slickness as if something had been awakened.
Instinct propelled her forward. That dais at the far end held her prize. Trepidation grew with each step, as she was woefully exposed. If the witch decided to appear, there wasn’t a stitch of cover to be had.
The translucent surfaces illuminated stronger as Kat neared the halfway mark on the pathway. She could see she was no longer on a path at all, but more of a bridge, suspended above the surfaces, which generated neither heat nor cold. The color beneath the vitreous planes shifted almost imperceptibly from blue to deep purple before transforming to bright shades of red as Kat continued her trek.
Keeping one eye on her target, she noted furtive movements beneath the frozen pools of light from her peripheral vision. Every so often, twirling coils of black ebbed and twisted beneath the frozen pools, but they were so quick, Kat wondered if it was a trick of her imagination combined with the ominous impression of this place.
Kat ascended the scant steps to the stone recess, her front aglow in the shimmering blue light. Upon the slab of stone lay an intricate wooden box radiating blue light from an inner source. The old wound on her thigh seared to an almost unbearable level. Kat knew the stone was contained within. The patterns were reminiscent of the mirror that had held Simeon prisoner.
Simeon.
Damn if the Highlander’s acres of warm skin in the firelight didn’t loom before her. The slope of his perfect shoulders, his voice whispering her anguished name before they had fallen together in a rush. Simeon inside her, loving her, and Kat torn between the mountainous want of need to feel him inside her night after night and day after day, until forever seemed possible. Melancholy descended with the chilling shard of knowledge that mere hours ago had truly been their last…
The weight of the heartbreak of goodbye had been unknown until faced with this moment. Standing here. In front of this stone. This stupid, stupid! stone that had nothing to do with love, yet everything to do with love. Kat was torn, balanced on the sharp-honed edge of indecision. To never see Simeon again, never hear his laughter. To never look into his eyes sparkling with scintillating happiness as hers eyes gaze back, glowing in pure admiration...
The brutality of emotions raged through her and clogged her throat with an icy dose of reality. There was no going back from here. She’d sacrificed everything to be here. Everything. And she wouldn’t change a thing or hesitate to do it again. Knowing Simeon, loving him, even if all they were destined to share were meager moments in the grand scheme of time, it was enough.
Kat lifted the cool lid. She couldn’t stifle a gasp. Laying on a bed of shimmering fabric was the biggest diamond she’d ever seen. The pear-shaped stone sparkled dazzling prisms of dancing lights across every stone surface of the alcove. Kat stared dumbly at the piece.
Her throat suddenly felt as dry and brittle as parchment. Her heart raced. Kat blinked twice and shook away her disbelief at the sheer beauty of the jewel. She was here to remove this stone from this place, not to be enchanted by its
brilliance. Or its size. This rock rivaled a grapefruit in circumference. Would this diamond even fit in her fist?
Kat scanned the cavern and spied a wayward stone. She hefted the rock in one hand. It was a poor substitute for the diamond, but the size was close and might just provide critical seconds of decoy, if needed. A surreptitious glance all around assured her that nothing had moved. She hadn’t tripped any magical alarms, and there was no secret doorway sliding open to reveal some hideous monster bent on guarding the stone.
Stretching tentative fingers toward the prize, tingles of energy surged up her arm just before her gloved hands skimmed the surface. She snatched back in hesitation. What was it with these enchanted relics? Why did they have to hurt? Though no visible scars remained, that mirror had burned her and was answering in a primal pain on her thigh. What was this stone going to do?
Take it. Take it. Only possession of this stone gave her even a modicum of chance to share a life with Simeon. Kat steeled a sharp breath.
This was the moment of truth.
Kat’s fingers closed around the glittering mass. Pure lightning shot through her. Hundreds of pictures swarmed her vision. Colin smiling brightly and shouting encouragement to run faster on the playground. Murray’s dispassionate frown beyond her tenth birthday cake. A lady floating in blue light. Ian wiping her fevered head. New York at night. Boston in frozen winter. Vast fields of tranquil green. Traffic. Trains. Simeon. Horses. Safe deposit boxes. High school graduation. Simeon. Tiptoeing along rooftops. Angry pools of bubbling lava. Scuba diving and gymnastics. Simeon. Caves, creatures and gems, bonds and paintings, Ian’s wedding. Her proud Highlander reaching for her beyond some strange mist — all these collided into a rapid frenzy of memories so thick that Kat didn’t know which were real and which were imagined.
Her body convulsed, and Kat dropped to her knees, refusing to release her hold on the power in her palm. A tinkling of feminine laughter sounded through the ether. Drawing upon every fiber of her will, Kat secured the stone between her breasts, instantly darkening the glowing light that seeped from the diamond.
The world plummeted in a split-second.
She was on her knees in a pasture of tall grasses blowing serene in the breeze. Sensing the presence of some benevolent specter, Kat lowered her eyes, afraid to look upon it. It was too beautiful to comprehend and too terrifying not to steal a glance. If angels existed, this apparition must was certainly be one, as it couldn’t be named anything but divine. Frozen in its attendance, waves of unworthiness, contrition, and uncertainty gushed over Kat.
Kat felt the sounds of lilting mirth envelop her, as if fingertips circled crystal water glasses making them vibrate in happy chords of friction. The stone pressed weighty against her heart and vibrated in time with her pulse. The floating vision emanated pleasure as golden beams of light hovered and widened. This was sheer joy. Joy at its absolute, at its most pure. Humbling, wonderful joy cradled in spasms of bright-white love. A sudden shard of revelation jolted her mind. She was not only worthy, she was chosen.
Kat was propelled in a backward instant to the stark vacuum of reality. The field had given way to the hard stone beneath her knees. Kat gasped several full, deep breaths of air, needing precious oxygen as if she’d just escaped drowning. Willing her breath to return to as normal as possible and desperate to quell her pounding heart, she rose on dazed feet. In sharp contrast to the tumultuous journey of places and emotions she just experienced, the cave was unnervingly silent. Even more bizarre, the place on her thigh no longer burned.
Screw Joey’s advice. She wasn’t about to wait sixty seconds in this place. Kat put the decoy rock in the box and eased the lid closed. Now she could quit this cavern, snatch up Sofia and the horses, and return to the keep. She’d beg Simeon’s forgiveness as they determined how best to destroy the stone, though she didn’t believe once she presented him with the source of the witch’s power that he’d remain angry for long. A tiny glimmer of victory lifted the corners of her lips. She might actually pull this thing off. As Kat turned to flee down the length of the bridge she bounced to a dead halt. Any feelings of triumph she’d foolishly entertained evaporated.
“What are you doing here?” Kat blurted out.
Sofia glided forward. Her body was twisted and strained with an odd gait. Her hands clasped tight behind her back as her eyes glowed white with fear.
“Forgive me, sister.” Sofia’s imploring tone was no more than a strangled whisper, yet her words seemed magnified across the cold stone.
“You were supposed to wait,” Kat frowned.
Sofia’s head shook almost imperceptibly in the negative as her lips trembled nervously. Gathering all her strength Sofia cried out, “Run, Katherine.”
The plea wrenched Kat’s heart.
“Run? What the hell are you talking about?” Kat took a step but stopped abruptly as Sofia winced to a jerky halt. Her feet no longer touched the path. Sofia hovered about four inches above the rocky bridge.
A dark cloud swirled and widened behind her as the frozen pools on either side of the bridge began to crack and churn and redden in broadening currents. The inky mist dissipated, and a blonde woman draped in the velvety folds of a voluminous cloak appeared. She brushed past Sofia with pure disdain, her dark, menacing eyes glittered behind a triumphant smirk. Kat trembled as if she’d been plunged into the icy depths of the North Sea.
“You’re the witch! You followed me in Geneva, and in Inverness...”
Sofia whimpered.
The witch’s smirk dissolved into bone-chilling laughter. The eerie tones snaked into Kat’s very marrow, awakening tendrils of dread and pain. The witch lifted both arms slowly and spread her palms outward. The folds of her dark cloak puddled at her sides as the walls of the cave began to glow in hellish light.
“And you, Katherine Moira Goldman, are just the bait I needed tae sweeten this trap.”
Chapter 25
Despite Ian’s exceptional fitness by modern standards, matching the Highlander’s brutal pace had his body screaming for relief unlike any workout. The pain caused by this morning’s breakneck speed far exceeded the few days discomfort in the saddle he experienced when retrieving the sword, and Simeon pushed like a man possessed.
Ian regarded Campbell in an entirely new light. The Highlander’s fierce determination to save Kat and Sofia, despite the drugged wine and the fact time was not on his side, was unlike anything Ian had ever witnessed. The man plunged headlong into danger without a whit of concern for himself. He was resolved. Simeon Campbell was riding into the unknown, armed with nothing more than a sword and his heart. The heart of a true warrior.
Inspired by the Simeon’s grit, Ian dug deeper, intent on keeping up. Yet he couldn’t suppress a pang of guilt. He should have never played a hand in swaying Simeon’s decision to leave Kat behind in the first place. Perhaps if he’d told Simeon the truth back in Inverness, the sisters wouldn’t be in this position now. Then again, fate is a funny mistress. She has a way of turning events her way, no matter what actions you take. Ian just prayed they’d reach them in time.
Ian’s mount stumbled, interrupting his mind’s wanderings. He clutched the mane as his horse tripped once more, trying to keep up with Fergus as they descended a particularly cruel slope littered with rock.
“How much longer?” Ian called out. His voice was dry and raspy, and he wished like hell he had a canteen of water.
Simeon reined the lathered Fergus to a prancing halt. The horse’s nostrils flared red from the exertion, yet he flexed and fought Simeon’s hand, still eager to run.
“’Tis just across that rise. Do ye nae smell it?”
“Smell what?” Ian wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.
“A campfire. For certs ‘tis them.”
“It could be anyone,” Ian doubted.
Simeon rewarded him with a flat look. “’Tis them. Mind the other side o’ that ridge, Ian. We’ve a stream tae cross.”
Simeon squee
zed Fergus’ flanks and gave him his head. The beast surged forward, and Simeon took strength from the warhorse. Sweat poured from his neck and shoulders, expelling the last of the poisons and rapidly cooling on his skin in the early morning mist. His men would be less than a quarter of an hour behind them, and Simeon murmured a silent prayer he’d reach Katherine and Sofia in time. At best, the women hadn’t found their way into the cave yet. At worst… he couldn’t envision the worst. Simeon squelched the picture of Katherine and Sofia already tortured and broken by the witch’s hand.
The stream was wider and deeper than Simeon remembered. Fergus was unstoppable. He galloped straight in, sending sprays of water in his wake, and jumped onto the far bank. Scanning the terrain upward, Simeon choked down the lump in his throat. Two unmounted horses, intermittently visible between the large protrusions of rock, grazed aimlessly.
Mere minutes from his goal, Simeon’s hand reached back to unsheathe the claymore. The scream behind him shocked his flight. He pulled Fergus so hard the horse sank to his haunches and spun. Simeon dismounted in a flash.
“Ian!” Simeon half-ran, half-slid. Lying not twenty paces behind, Ian’s horse had tripped, and the pair was down. Ian’s leg was pinned beneath the horse’s neighing weight. The man’s face turned ghostly white with pain as the beast struggled for purchase on the slope.
“Easy! Easy!” Simeon grabbed the reins swiftly and dug in his heels as the horse finally gained ground and tried to bolt. Simeon knelt beside Ian, the man’s face contorted in pain.
“Can ye speak, mon?”
“Yes, I can speak,” Ian gritted between clenched teeth. He could already feel his crushed foot swelling in his boot. “Help me up.”
“Lie still a moment, ye may be bleeding,” Simeon urged and scanned Ian for more injuries. A fist clenched his tartan, and Ian snarled.
