“Wait!” Callum’s shout behind me was off. He no longer sounded threatening. He was… laughing?
I careened headlong into Devyn who was running to find me, and I sent him flying. The sword that had been in his hand skittered across the flagstones, coming to a stop under the foot of the oversized professor. Devyn was on his feet in a second and quickly put himself between his former tutor and me.
“Hold on, let’s calm down for a minute.” Callum put both hands out, palms up, in a gesture of peace. He took his foot off the sword and backed up a few steps. “I’m sorry to startle you, lass, truly. But I was starting to doubt you had any real trainable ability beyond small arbitrary fluke results. It was one last test I needed to do before we gave it up for a loss.”
“You deliberately tried to scare me?”
“We had tried everything else. It occurred to me that you have had more success when threatened,” Callum said, casting a glance at the sky overhead, which was still darkly angry. My entire body was also still crackling with energy. Devyn took my hand, his thumb moving soothingly against my palm. “I knew you had more in you, but this… To take in that much energy, you must have a great affinity with the ley lines. I’ve never seen the like outside of—”
He stopped talking suddenly, his eyes looking directly into mine in startled certainty. “He’s done it. You’re not some random latent he found in the city.”
Callum stepped forward, his arm reaching out, and Devyn stepped in front of me once more.
“Damned say-nothing pup. You found her,” Callum growled. “You found her, and you have me teaching her without even… How is this possible? Is this real? Is it really her?”
Devyn flashed a glance at me, his face as cold as it had been all week, but his eyes glowed as he faced his former teacher.
“It wasn’t for you to know.”
“Foolish pup.” Callum put both hands up to his face in a wearied exasperation. I felt a tad insulted at his dismay; I thought my being alive was a good thing, personally. “You should have told me. You’ve got to go, and you’ve got to go now.” He waved his hands and, grabbing me, started to pull me towards the courtyard door. He turned back to find Devyn and Marcus standing still in surprise, unmoving.
“NOW!” he roared.
As we hurried through the corridors back up to the professor’s rooms, he explained that he had sent word to York that we – or rather Marcus, Devyn and some city girl – had made their way to Oxford. Devyn was furious. A party was already on its way to Oxford. On reaching his rooms, Callum was like a whirlwind in his kitchen, preparing food for us to take as we hurriedly put new packs together. The packs Marcus’s father had given us were replaced by Briton-style travelling packs filled with food and Briton clothing that Callum had obtained for us.
We donned our cloaks and Callum took us down through his tower and along more deserted passages, deep into the bowels of the college, until at last we came to a cellar door which he raised.
“This way,” he urged.
Devyn backed up warily, his face tight. “The last time I trusted another with the exit, we were delivered right up to the people chasing us.”
Callum ran a hand through his hair in agitation. “I swear to you on all I believe in, on the life of this girl, on the love I had for her mother, I am true. Go this way. There’ll be no record of your exit from the city, and it’ll buy you a little more time.”
I made my way down into the dark holding the torch, Marcus having led the way down. I turned around to thank Callum and wish him farewell to find he had grabbed Devyn and was whispering urgently to him. The force of his final words carried them to me, or perhaps it was the pain that made them echo off Devyn.
“You know she is not for you.”
Part Two
Love Drips And Gathers
The lips of time leech to the fountain head;
Love drips and gathers, but the fallen blood
Shall calm her sores.
And I am dumb to tell a weather’s wind
How time has ticked a heaven round the stars.
* * *
And I am dumb to tell the lover’s tomb
How at my sheet goes the same crooked worm.
— The force that through the green fuse drives the flower, Dylan Thomas
Chapter Nine
Devyn beckoned us over from the barn he had just checked out. I sighed in pleasure at the sight of the hay in the corner; it looked like it would be infinitely softer and warmer than the cold ground we had slept on as we trudged north in the increasingly cold and wet weather. I could barely remember the last time I felt warm. Devyn had set a punishing pace since we left Oxford, barely speaking as we trudged over never-ending miles, keeping away from small towns and avoiding travellers as we pushed on.
Sitting down with a sigh, I struggled to pull off my boots to begin what had become our evening ritual. Devyn would disappear to scout the area, and he would bring back firewood and foraged food – late autumn berries, nuts and such mostly, but occasionally some fish which he would then cook.
Tonight, he had nowhere else to be. We had leftovers from the bounty he had secured from a farm for dinner and firewood was piled in the corner of the barn ready for the winter.
I paused, taking off my boots.
“Aren’t you going to light the fire?” I asked, unwilling to have him watch while I extricated my feet from the torture devices that were my boots.
“Later,” Devyn said.
Marcus knelt at my feet. “C’mon then, let’s get it over with. The sooner you do this part, the sooner it’ll be better.”
I nodded, bracing myself as he undid the laces before easing the boots off my raw and bloodied feet as gently as he could. I winced as my socks followed.
“What in the— What are you doing?”
I opened my eyes to see a furious Devyn looming over me.
Marcus gritted his teeth as he continued his unpleasant task of releasing my feet before he healed them back to blessed normality.
“What?” I asked back, all innocence, even though I had done everything I could to hide this from him as we trekked north.
“What?” he echoed, astounded. “What cursed foolishness is this, Cass? How long has this been going on?”
“Uh… since we left Oxford.”
“You’ve been walking on bloody feet for most of each day and then hero boy here is fixing you up in the evening,” he said, watching as Marcus ignored him and got on with the business of healing my feet. “How could you be so stupid?”
“Stupid?” I asked.
“You’re never going to build up hard skin if you keep making it as new every night.”
Marcus stood until he was face to face with Devyn.
“Excuse me, but you hadn’t even noticed. You think she should sleep in pain each night and then push on with her feet still raw the next day?” Marcus’s voice was barely controlled.
Devyn looked down at me, taking a breath, considering what Marcus was throwing at him. But Marcus wasn’t done.
“You bring us out here and you don’t tell us what’s going on. Where are we going? Who’s chasing us? Who is it exactly that Callum believes Cassandra to be? Why are you…?” Devyn stepped back, allowing the city boy to rage at him. Whether it was because he was still off balance at learning of my feet or in surprise at Marcus raging at him was unclear.
As Marcus backed him up against the wall, Devyn locked eyes with him and remained silent.
“I’m so sick of this. Of you. Of everything.”
With that, Marcus went crashing out through the door of the barn into the already black night.
The atmosphere grew increasingly heavy after Marcus stormed out. It had been brewing for a while. The two were so different, and we were all struggling to come to terms with life since the city. The easy, charming Marcus I had known had all but disappeared in his grief at his father’s death; their toxic relationship and his father’s unexpected sacrifice must be tearing him
up. He was already struggling with the responsibility his power to heal put him under in a land ravaged by illness, especially when his ability to help was limited to so few.
It was Devyn I most wanted to reach. Since Samhain and Callum’s cryptic parting words, I could feel him pulling away from me. I needed to reach him, but I didn’t know how. I still knew so little about him.“Devyn,” I started. This was my chance. The prickle that had started in my arm indicated that Marcus had gone further away than he should. News I wasn’t planning to share with our surly guide anytime soon in case he decided we had to go after him. Marcus wouldn’t go much further, knowing that it would hurt me. He might be angry but he was still at heart a doctor, and I believed in my friend.
Devyn lifted his head to look at me from where he was tinkering with his pack on the other side of the barn. His dark gaze was inscrutable.
“He didn’t mean it,” I assured him.
“Oh, but I think he did.”
Silence descended once more. I ran over scenarios in my head, different approaches. How could I get him to tell me what was going on in his head? I had given him time, waited for him to tell me, but that hadn’t worked. I got up and went over to him, my steps crackling on the straw. I laid a hand on his tangled dark head, his lengthening black curls a magnet for my fingers. I felt like I hadn’t touched him in an eternity. Thinking about it, I hadn’t really. He had taken my hand that first day, but since that night in the forest on Samhain, we hadn’t been close. The space between us was growing.
“What’s going on?” I asked softly.
“Nothing’s going on.” He continued about his task, putting everything neatly back into his pack. I crouched down beside him, reaching for his cheek to turn his face to me. He shrugged me off. “Cass, I need to do this.”
“What?” My tone was sharp. “You need to refill your pack? I’ll wait the two minutes and then we can talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Really?” I leant in to kiss him, and he turned his head away.
“Are you still going to tell me that nothing is wrong?” I pushed at him now that I had evidence for my cause.
He was still focused on his pack. “Marcus could come back in.”
“I don’t think so,” I returned, in my frustration.
“What do you mean?” This he was interested in talking about.
“He’s not just outside,” I grudgingly admitted, “he’s gone far enough away that I can feel it.”
Attention caught, Devyn abandoned his half-finished pack. “You’re in pain? Damn him. I’ll go and fetch him back.”
“No –” I caught his arm “– let him have some space. I’m fine. It’s not that bad. It feels like the longer we are together, the further we can wander from each other, and we’ve been in each other’s pockets since we crossed the border. Let him go. He’ll be back in his own time.”
Devyn looked down at me as he considered my words before nodding curtly. “Let me know if you need me to fetch him back.”
“I need you to talk to me.”
“Cass, there’s nothing to talk about.”
“Really? Then kiss me.”
His dark eyes surveyed me intently, then he turned away and bent over his pack once more.
“I thought that when we were beyond the walls, that you and I…” I whispered brokenly into the silence. He was doing it again; it wasn’t just a mood or that he was busy, he was deliberately distancing himself from me. By now, I more than knew the signs. I moved away as my eyes began to burn. I would not let him see me cry. Screw him.
“Some things just can’t be,” he said quietly to my retreating back.
An unwanted tear fell down my cheek. I hated him. After everything we had been through, he was doing this to me again. For the last time. I would not throw myself at him again. Ever.
This was a vow I was to discover shortly was also impossible to keep. I woke in the dark, stiff from the cold despite the cloak that Devyn must have placed on me after I finally fell asleep.
Exhaustion from the day’s trek eventually won out over the screaming arguments and accusations that raged through my head in the aftermath of his most recent declaration that we couldn’t be together.
It wasn’t the stiffness of my bones that had woken me though, but the molten hum that was flowing through me. My lids felt languorously heavy. I looked across to the other side of the barn where Devyn slept, half sitting up, leaning against the rough stone wall. There was still no sign of Marcus. I exhaled as another wave of warmth ran through my length, coiling inside, sinuous and sexy. I stretched, letting it flow through me. It felt good… which made no sense. I had dozed off, feeling despondent, miserable that Devyn had pulled away from me yet again.
Now I didn’t mind so much, though I was slightly disgruntled at the distance between us. I made my way over to Devyn in the dark, pausing to take in his sleeping form as I stood over him. The faint slivers of moonlight that worked their way through the slatted door highlighted his high cheekbones and fuller lower lip. I had been so angry at him earlier, so utterly disappointed, but that feeling had drifted away and was replaced now by a tugging urgency. I needed him.
It no longer seemed so important whether Devyn spoke to me or kept his promises. What was important was getting closer, touching him. My hands lifted of their own volition, my fingers tracing his face, moving softly across the silvery path of his cheekbones. Leaning down, I touched my lips to his.
I was all sensation. I could feel the heat coming off his body, I could inhale deeply the combination of smells that was uniquely Devyn. I ran featherlight kisses across his face.
His breathing changed and I knew he was no longer asleep but he didn’t open his eyes, delaying the moment when he would have to acknowledge what was happening and push me away.
Taking advantage of his momentary lapse, I sat down beside him and, lifting his blanket, snuggled in. I tangled myself around him, chest to chest, hip to hip, our legs entwined. My hand wandered across his broad shoulder and down along his muscled arm, falling to his waist and then under his shirt. My fingers crept up his spine as I pressed myself closer.
I touched my lips to his again, and this time he responded, sleepily, warmly rolling his tongue with mine. His hands came around me. We kissed slowly, unhurried, enjoying ourselves. But the burn in my blood grew stronger and would not be denied. I turned up the tempo on our kiss, making my will known. The kiss heated up in response. I pushed Devyn so that he was lying on his back and moved with him, so I was lying on top of him. Our lower bodies were joined, my body yearning for that connection. I needed more… more contact, more heat. I was on fire.
Breaking off the kiss, I sat up, pulling my top over my head. If my purpose was to stop Devyn thinking and encourage him to just go with the moment, it seemed that taking things a notch higher served only to bring him to his senses. As I leaned in again to kiss him, his whole body stilled under mine. I was losing him. I knew it. I used what connection I still had to press my invitation. I needed this, needed him, the burning in my body assuaged only by contact with his. I could feel him through the thin cloth that separated us. He was not unmoved. Definitely not indifferent.
Not entirely on board either though. He turned us so that I was now on the ground and he could pull his hips away from mine. His eyes glittered down at me as he sucked in a breath to regain some control as I wriggled frantically beneath him. I needed more. Fire licked through me, seeking oxygen, and I lifted my head to kiss him once more, to bring him back into the inferno with me. The need pulsed through me. He groaned as he pulled his head out of reach, his hands restraining me, holding me down as he maintained what distance he could.
“Cass.” His voice was tortured, questioning. “What is going on?”
“Please,” I answered in reply, twisting my body up to regain contact.
He freed one hand to retrieve the blanket and attempted to cover me with it. I used that hand to grab a fistful of dark hair
and pull his head back to mine, and now that he was caught, he responded once more, his tongue dancing with mine in the dark.
The blanket he had pulled between us fell away again and, untangling my hand from his hair where it was no longer needed to hold him to me, I pushed his shirt up and away. My skirt was tangled up around my waist as I sought and found as much skin to skin contact as possible.
I sighed, exhaling from sheer want and need. Devyn groaned in my ear.
“Cass…”
He was as caught up in the heat as me as the flames burned down the mental wall he had built between us.
We were both frantic with it, heat pulsing through us as we sought to get closer and closer, his flesh, mine, one body. The fire raged and burned us up, engulfing us both as we exploded together. Consuming us from the inside out.
I came to, shivering from the aftermath as well as the cold on our sweat-slicked skin in the chill of the night air. I could still feel Devyn, could feel our hearts fluttering in synch. I laid my hand across his chest to lie on top of his heart. And I felt him flinch.
Not again. How could I have been so stupid? Nothing had changed; he didn’t want me. Nobody wanted me. I curled onto my side into a ball as my body physically attempted to protect me from the crushing pain wafting through me.
“Cass?” His voice came out of the darkness.
I couldn’t answer. I didn’t know how. The blaze that had consumed me was utterly gone, and in its wake lay the bitterest of ashes. My soul felt like a wasteland. I kept believing in what was between us in spite of the evidence he presented again and again that he didn’t want this. That he didn’t want me.
“Cassandra.” His voice came again, stronger this time, demanding an answer. He put his blanket around me. “I’m sorry.”
A sob bubbled up from deep inside me. I shook my head. No. I didn’t want to hear his apologies. Didn’t want to listen to his explanations of why he didn’t want to be with me.
Curse of the Celts Page 13
