She’d learned the hard way never to underestimate her captors, especially now, when she had gotten close to finding a way out.
“I’ve brought you a gift, little reader,” Danar said, his cold breath touching her branded neck and making the ink burn. “Don’t you want to look at it?”
“You yammered about me watching the culled come through,” she reminded him, doing her best to sound bored. “I stop, you spike me to the wall, see?”
“See this.” He yanked her around by the arm.
A thin boy with long red hair sprawled by her bed. He dripped all over from the hosing he’d gotten, and his chest heaved as if he were having trouble breathing. From his trousers she guessed he was from one of the olden times. He’d been tattooed with Danar’s mark along the arm, which meant he belonged to the big Sluath now. Not good, considering the shape he was in. Danar liked his slaves feisty. They earned him more in the arena and the pit.
If she was going to help the boy, she had to act like Nellie, who wouldn’t have given a damn.
“You’re giving me a mostly dead guy?” Nellie looked up into the demon’s coppery eyes and feigned a yawn. “Jeepers, I didn’t get you anything. Let me go catch a cockroach.”
Danar flashed his fangs as he laughed. “This one was too far gone for the arena when he came, but I mended him enough to serve. He’s yours to do with as you please until the next cull.”
In all the years she’d been here he’d never given her a slave of her own. Not a good sign.
“What a pal.” She made a show of sauntering over to the boy, who on closer inspection turned out to be a slender young man. He looked up at her, his vivid blue eyes filled with despair, and she glared at him before she turned to pout at Danar. “Say, what’s the price tag? You fellas gonna watch me do him?” She’d rather stab herself with one of his wing blades.
“We’d rather feed.” He waved his claws over the glass, which disappeared into the wall. “Indulge yourself well with this one, Nellie, and I may reward you again.”
She gave him a lascivious smile. “Sure thing, boss.”
Danar was expecting her to make whoopee with the guy, also not comforting. Sex slaves were only given to mortals in the final stages of transition. She was pretty sure that was supposed to push them over the edge to make their first cull.
As soon as the big demon left through the wall Nellie dropped down and helped the man to his feet.
“Upsy-daisy.” She had to half-drag him onto the bed, but once he was on it, she covered him up and brushed the sopping hair back from his lean face. “I’m not going to hurt you, okay? No matter what the big lug said. Just keep your voice low. If we make too much noise, they’ll come in so they can watch me hurt you. Got it?”
“Be ye a demoness?” the dazed man croaked in a heavy accent.
At least he speaks English.
“Nope,” she assured him, and then saw how he was shivering. “I’m going to get into bed with you, but just to warm you up. Don’t hit me.”
It had been so long since she’d touched another human being that sliding under the blanket and gathering him close made her heart pound with nerves. His body felt almost ice-cold, likely from whatever Danar had done to fix him. If he hadn’t been so weak, she would have sworn he was in transition. As her feeble body heat warmed him his stiff limbs relaxed, although he still looked at her as if she might bite off his face.
She didn’t blame him. Being here for so long had made her look a lot more gorgeous than she’d ever been in her time. The last time Danar had allowed her to look in a mirror, she’d been so beautiful she’d screamed.
“My real name is Helen,” she murmured to him. “I was gunned down in my time before the demons grabbed me and brought me here.”
He blinked a few times. “Ye cannae be evil, surely.”
That was a question she couldn’t answer without a whole lot of story that he’d never understand, so she shrugged. “I’m working on it. What’s your name?”
“Edane mag Raith.” He took hold of her hand. “Helen, ’tis no’ a Pritani name.”
“I’m from New York, in the U.S. of A.” His name sounded as pretty as he looked, and she was definitely feeling warmer now, too. Do not make whoopee with the mostly-dead guy, Nellie told herself sternly. “What’s a Pritani?”
“The name of my people.” He lifted his head and took in the swanky prison chamber they’d given her this time, but he didn’t seem interested in the banquet table or the huge sunken bath. “Four hunters came with me. They’re as my brothers. Where went they?”
“If they were brought here, they’re slaves now, like you.” She didn’t know how else to tell him that hard truth. “Every mortal who comes here is enslaved.”
Edane’s mouth tightened. “But no’ ye?”
“I was, at first. They’ve been using me to read things… Ah, that’s a long story. They also want me to change into a demon, like them, but I’m not who they think. I’m still like you.” She hoped. Every day it got harder to hang onto that. “Where did they take you?”
“On the hunt,” he said and grimaced. “’Twas my doing.” He reached out with one of his shaking hands, and touched the curl on her cheek. “How long since ye were enslaved, Helen?”
“Call me Nellie.” She didn’t want to explain that. “I’ve been here about a hundred years. Time moves slower in this place. I think they can keep us alive almost forever if they want, but most slaves don’t last too long. A lot of them go crazy.”
“We must find my brothers and with them escape this place,” Edane said, and sat up. “’Tis no’ where they belong.”
“Keep it down.” She checked the wall portal. “We can’t bust out of here without help, but there’s someone I think might. It’s dicey, though. This bird is a strange one.”
He frowned. “Bird?”
Nellie put her lips next to his ear to whisper, “There’s a demon who wants out of here, too.”
Chapter Thirty
THE SLUATH PRISON chamber faded, and Nellie found herself staring at Edane as he took his hand away from her. They stood together in the flowers by the stream, just as they had before the vision. Pleasure and pain twined inside her as she looked up at the sky, which had darkened with storm clouds coming in from the west. The last rays of the sunset dusted them and the trees with orange and gold.
How could she feel like this, as if the world were falling apart around her, in this beautiful place with him?
Edane stepped close to her, his eyes intent on her face. “You saw me brought to you in the vision?”
Nellie could only nod. Now she wished she’d never remembered anything. It had been so much worse than she could have imagined. She’d spent a hundred years as a Sluath captive. What had they done to her all that time? Why was she still alive?
They kept me from aging, just like they kept me from dying.
“Now you ken. ’Twas Helen who held me in her arms to warm me when I came to the underworld,” Edane told her. “Helen who promised to help me and my brothers escape. Being Nellie, ’twas a ruse for the demons, just as ’twas for the men who killed your brother.”
What he said had to be true, but Helen seemed like someone else to her.
“I was Nellie when I came here. At least, being her was all I remembered. I don’t think I’m Helen anymore.” But even as she said it, she realized Nellie’s anger and conniving had gone. “Who am I supposed to be now?”
“You must choose that, my lady.” He bent to her, whispering a kiss so soft on her lips she barely felt it. “Come now. We should build a fire and make a meal. There shall be no chance when the storm comes.”
Nellie went with him, numb from the revelations of the vision. Edane showed her how to use the fire steel, and then took out oatcakes and smoked fish from the satchel. He shared the food and a waterskin with her as the stars came out, and then draped her with her new cloak.
The way he looked after her made her wonder about their time together in the un
derworld. They’d become lovers, that much seemed sure, but had they fallen for each other? Was it happening again because their hearts remembered it, even if their heads didn’t? Was that why she’d wanted him so badly, and still did?
And who did Edane really want, Helen or Nellie? He only knew Nellie.
“You neednae choose now,” he said, startling her as he offered her one of Rosealise’s scones. “You remember why you continued your ruse. The rest shall come in time.”
“Hope so.” She broke the little biscuit in half and handed one piece back to him. “How did you know we would share another vision?”
“I didnae,” he admitted. “I recalled how we touched the first time we summoned our memories. I reckoned I’d try the same again with my magic.” He frowned. “’Tis odd. More time passed in this vision than at the castle.”
The touching, her hand on his arm and his hand on her neck, made sense. “If we do that again, could we see more of what happened to us?”
“No,” Edane declared, sounding almost angry as he got to his feet. “’Tis enough that you saved me and my brothers. You’ve seen into your heart. You’re a good, kind lass.”
“I was a good copper. I’m the cat’s meow at lying. Kind, ah, I need to work at that a bit.” She looked up at him, and saw guilt on his face. “You don’t want to remember any more, do you? Why not? You’ve already seen me at my Nellie worst.”
He took his bow and checked the string before shouldering it. “’Tis naught to do with you, my lady.”
Yeah, she figured that much. “All right, I’ll guess. I’m good at that, too. In the vision you said that it was your fault the demons took you and the others. Was it because you were hurt? Because they always go for people like that. I was pumped full of lead when they snatched me.”
He tossed another piece of wood on the fire, and stared at the sparks flying up for so long she thought he wouldn’t answer.
Finally, Edane faced her. “I defied the Gods and refused to become a shaman. My magic, ’twas their gift to me, so that I might follow the path of faith and healing. I wanted none of that. If I couldnae be an archer, I didnae wish to live. For that they damned all five of us.”
“Whoa, hey, now.” Nellie stood and took his hands in hers. “I don’t know about your Gods or your beliefs, but what you did doesn’t sound so bad. Why would they punish all of you because you chose not to be a shaman?”
“I went on a last hunt with my brothers.” Edane smiled sadly. “One from which I didnae intend to return.”
* * *
As Edane walked with Nellie to show her the stars, he found himself describing how sickly he’d been as a lad. It had been centuries since his mortal life, and as he told her he still felt the frustration of being unable to run or play without growing dizzy and losing his breath.
“’Tis why I’m different from the other Mag Raith,” he admitted. “As a mortal my affliction left me too thin and frail for warrior training. I never grew as the other lads.”
“I like you the way you are,” she told him, slipping her hand in his. “I mean, the other guys seem nice enough, but they’re too big. A girl my size has to worry about getting squashed, you know?”
“Aye.” He rarely felt the envy he’d once suffered by comparing himself to the other hunters, but she’d given him a new reason to feel content with his lack of bulk. “That you neednae worry with me.”
“So what does any of that have to do with you being damned?”
“’Twas decided I should be trained by the tribe’s shaman. He taught me healing, and awakened the magic inside me, but I despised my power. I wished to be an archer.” He stopped in a meadow of wildflowers by a large flat rock, and sat down there with her. “I went into the forest to practice the bow, and teach myself what my sire wouldnae permit. There I met Domnall and the others, and joined their hunts in secret.”
“Sneaky.” She bumped her shoulder against his. “Must have made you a good hunter.”
“’Twas no’ as difficult for me, hunting on horseback. The mount ran for me. The shaman gave me herbs that made my breathing easier, and kept my head clear.” He pressed her hand between his. “I used them to keep my weakness from my brothers, and hid my hunting from the shaman. Yet my affliction grew worse.”
“Guess you couldn’t hide it forever, huh?” Nellie said softly.
“I reckoned I could, but no.” Edane traced the ovals of her fingernails. “One night I returned from a hunt with game for the shaman. I wished no more training, and I’d decided to show him proof of the archer I’d become, so he would release me. Outside his broch my heart began to beat strangely, and then seemed to clench like a fist. Then came pain, so deep in my chest I couldnae take in a single breath. I felt my life fading. I dropped to the ground, and all went black.”
He told her of how the shaman had found and dragged him inside, and forced a bitter potion made with witch’s thimble down his throat. It had brought him back from the edge of death, and eased the terrible pain in his chest. Then came the truth that had been kept from him since his boyhood.
’Tis yer heart, lad. The old man’s hand had felt cold against Edane’s flesh, which he had painted with protective spirals. ’Tis damaged and ’twill ever falter when ye burden yerself. ’Tis why ye wouldnae thrive as a bairn, nor grow as other lads. Now ’twill do thus again unless ye give up yer bow. Ye cannae hunt again.
Edane had blinked back an unmanly surge of tears. I’m no’ a shaman.
’Tis no’ yer say, the old man said flatly. The bow cannae serve ye now, lad. Use yer Gods-given power. They give ye this night as a warning. Go ye again with the hunters, and ye shall die.
“What he said that night came as no great surprise,” he admitted. “Even before my training with him, I’d long suspected ’twas that made me weak. I saw that I wasnae strong enough to hunt, and ’twas causing my heart to die. ’Twas naught else for me but to abandon the bow and my brothers. Yet I couldnae bear that. When I felt well again, I went and gathered more witch’s thimble.”
“Did you think it would keep you going?”
He shook his head. “A little may save a life, but too much stops the heart forever. ’Twas the latter I made into a death potion. I’d drink it after one last hunt, and die among my brothers as I had always wished to live: an archer.”
“Oh, Edane.” She embraced him, her cheek rubbing softly against his before she drew back. “You didn’t take it, though, right? You wouldn’t be here if you had.”
“’Twas no’ by choice.” He looked up at the stars, which seemed so close he might touch them. “I never had the chance. When we took shelter at Dun Chaill from the storm, I lost my breath, and felt again that the end had come. The rest, ’tis yet lost to me.”
He glanced up to see the edge of the storm just over them. He’d lived under the shadow of death for so long as a mortal that his life had been much the same: a feeble light about to be snuffed out.
“This rock is cold,” Nellie said and took off her cloak. She spread it on the grass before she sat down on it, and held out her hand. “Come here.”
Edane saw she wished to comfort him, but he shook his head. “I ken what I did, my lady. ’Tis my greatest shame. You cannae understand.”
“I’m a farm girl who became a copper and a lying, thieving floozy to find the mugs who killed my brother. Who knows what I did with the Sluath? Then I conned you and the clan, the only people who helped me. Shame and I are old, old pals.” She patted the cloak. “Park it right here, come on.”
Reluctantly he joined her. She pushed him down on his back, and then stretched out beside him.
“Do you believe your Gods are up there?” Nellie asked after they had watched the stars for a time.
“I dinnae ken. The shaman claimed they’re all around us, in every part of the world.” He glanced at her. “Why?”
“Just wondering.” She turned and lay her arm across his chest. “Was the shaman the one who said they’d punish you for becoming a
n archer?”
“He claimed that the Gods didnae bestow a gift to see it squandered,” Edane admitted. “And when he learned I’d taken up the bow, he warned that I’d be forever damned for my defiance.”
“Huh.” Nellie put her hand over his heart. “Like I said, I don’t know anything about your Gods, but it sounds like the old guy did all the talking.”
Edane nodded. “He often spoke for the Gods.”
“Sure, that’s the job, right?” She drew a line with her finger from his heart to his mouth. “He already knew you had a bad ticker. He wanted to train you so you could take over for him. What would scare you into giving up hunting? I’m thinking the Gods.”
He frowned. “’Tis no a jesting matter, my lady.”
“Sorry. I’m just a little confused. So which thing were you damned for? Going on that hunt or planning to kill yourself?” she persisted.
He’d never considered that. “I cannae say.”
“It’s strange. I mean, you went on lots of hunts before that last one, but you didn’t get damned until that night. Why would the Gods wait?” She tapped her finger against her lips. “Of course, you brought the heart-stopping potion along, but you didn’t take it, so they couldn’t stick you for that.”
Edane had to warn her that speaking of the Gods with such flippancy could bring down their wrath. Yet before he spoke, he realized that such a belief, like all the others he held, had been ingrained in him by the old shaman.
“Here’s how it shakes out for me: you did defy the old guy for a while, but in the end, he got what he wanted,” Nellie said as she propped herself on his chest. “You don’t hunt anymore, you’re not going to die, and you’re the clan’s shaman. Pretty good con if you ask me.”
A chuckle escaped him, which grew into laughter. Nellie caught it with her lips, kissing him through the mirth until the first raindrops came down to pelt them. Edane sat up with her, intent on taking her back to the shelter, but her hands gripped his shoulders.
“No, let’s stay.” She wrapped her hands around his neck. “I love the rain. I love this place.” She leaned in to kiss him again, and against his mouth she whispered, “And I love you.”
Edane: Immortal Highlander, Clan Mag Raith Book 3 Page 16
