Dark Sword 05: Shadow Highlander (41 page)

Camdyn shook his head in confusion. “How? Deirdre has used black magic to become immortal. Did Laria do the same?”

“Nay. The
mies
of my village had exceptionally strong magic. Together they devised a plan. They would put Laria under a spell. She is essentially frozen in time, hidden in the mountains. Members of my family are the only ones who can unlock a portion of the tomb and since I’m the last, I’m the artifact.”

“A portion?” Ian asked.

“Aye. From what my father told me, Laria is entombed in a maze.”

Cara asked, “Why not just have Laria battle Deirdre right then if the seer knew Laria could defeat her?”

“It is Laria who will defeat Deirdre, but Laria is supposed to have help in the form of a rather powerful male Druid who comes from the Torrachilty Forest.”

Arran frowned. “What if this male Druid was already born and dead?”

“I don’t believe it will matter. The Druids there, especially the males, were supposed to be some of the most powerful.”

Galen blew out a long breath. “And the dreams you were having?”

“My memories of places and people I had known.”

“So you saw Deirdre?” Broc asked.

Reaghan shuddered just thinking about it. “I had to go near Cairn Toul as I left my home. It was the safest, easiest way. I stayed far enough away, but I did see her when she came out of the mountain.”

Galen folded his hand over hers. “It’s over now.”

“Actually, it’s just beginning.” Reaghan looked at Fallon. “You sent Galen and Logan to find the artifact, to find me. Now that I have my memories back along with my magic, we need to awaken Laria to end Deirdre.”

Duncan stood. “Then let’s go.”

Reaghan cringed and bit her lip. “It’s not quite so simple, I’m afraid. There are other objects we will need to obtain to work our way through the maze to Laria.”

“Do you know what the objects are?” Galen asked.

“We need to begin on the Isle of Eigg.”

As the hall erupted in conversation, Reaghan turned to Galen. “With my spell broken, I’m no longer immortal.”

“You being mortal doesna stop me loving you. I’m no’ saying we’ll have an easy go of it, but I’m no’ about to give you up because you aren’t immortal.”

She smiled and gave him a quick kiss. “I also suppose this means you will worry about me?”

“Endlessly,” he vowed, a twinkle in his blue eyes.

“As long as I’m able to worry about you.”

“I have something to tell you,” Galen said.

She raised a brow. “And what might that be?”

“I finally have control over my power.”

Reaghan threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. She leaned back and asked, “How?”

“I gave in to my god and the power during the battle. I didna try to back away from it. Somewhere amid all the killing, I discovered I could touch anyone and feel none of their thoughts or emotions. I still have the ability to feel thoughts, but to do so I have to put more effort into it.”

“I would never have thought giving in to your power would help you control it.”

He shook his head. “Me either. I’m just glad I can live a normal life now. Or as normal as a Warrior can.”

“Want to read my mind to see what I’m thinking about?”

“Nay. Tell me,” he urged as he nuzzled her neck.

“You, our future, and our love.”

*   *   *

Two days after the battle, Broc still felt the loss of Anice as if it had just occurred. He had looked for her among the Druids, searching for her so he could bring her to the castle. How had he missed her?

He regretted his words to Sonya even more. He needed to find her and apologize. It wasn’t her fault Anice had died. If it was anyone’s burden to carry, it was his. He should have looked for Anice first, but he had assumed he would spot her in the pandemonium of battle.

How wrong he had been.

Broc left his chamber and descended the stairs to the great hall. The women were smiling, laughing, as they brought out the morning meal. One more Warrior had found his woman, adding to the love and laughter that was MacLeod Castle.

Broc was happy for Galen, but his own self-recriminations stopped him from celebrating with the others.

He waited for Sonya to exit the kitchens, hoping to catch her for a moment of privacy. Broc had been to her chamber many times over the last few days, but not once had she been there to hear his apology.

One by one the women exited the kitchens. When they sat and began to pass the food, a cold numbness began in Broc’s stomach.

“Where is Sonya?” he asked, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Cara shrugged. “I went to her chamber yesterday, but she wasn’t there. I thought she needed some time alone after Anice’s death.”

“I haven’t seen her since the attack,” Reaghan said.

Marcail nodded. “Me either.”

One by one, everyone in the hall said the same thing. The last time Sonya had been seen was the day of the attack. The day Broc had blamed her for Anice’s death.

The food was forgotten as the castle and surrounding area were searched. Broc had held out hope someone would find her, but it wasn’t until he used his power that he realized she wasn’t in the castle or village.

“We need to look for her,” Fallon said.

Broc walked on unsteady legs across the great hall. The words he had said to Sonya replayed over and over in his head. “I will search for her. I will find her. And I will bring her back.”

He didn’t wait for a response. He strode from the castle and let his god loose. As soon as his wings spread he flew toward the sky, opening his power to find the one woman who had the ability to tear his heart to pieces.

*   *   *

Malcolm refused to look back at MacLeod Castle as he began his new journey. He had walked the land night after night, day after day, seeking a reason to go on.

Seeking a reason to remain.

He was of no use to anyone with just one arm. He couldn’t fight beside the Warriors, and he refused to hide with the women. He was a Highlander. A warrior. He would not cower.

Malcolm knew he should have left a note for Larena, but he hadn’t. She had a life and a good man in Fallon MacLeod. Malcolm owed Fallon and the other Warriors a great debt for giving him a home.

He had observed the battle from the forest, wishing he could help the Warriors, yearning to have a sword in his hand. But he knew if he stepped into the fight, a Warrior would drag him away. It would be done to help, yet the gesture would disgrace Malcolm even more.

So he kept to his hideaway and watched. Once the Warriors had defeated the MacClures and the few remaining wyrran had run off, Malcolm decided it was time to leave the castle.

Strapped to his waist was a sword he’d found in the castle armory. He’d learned to swing a weapon with either arm, but Malcolm was determined to either gain the use of his right arm again, or die. Either would do.

He no longer cared.

Read on for an excerpt from

DARKEST
HIGHLANDER

—the next exciting Dark Sword Romance from Donna Grant and St. Martin’s Paperbacks!

It was the growl, the low, menacing rumble that implied doom for her.

Sonya sucked in a ragged breath and lifted her head from the damp ground of the forest floor. Her spirit was broken, her body failing rapidly.

She raged with fever, a fever she couldn’t heal. Just as she couldn’t heal the cut which sliced open her palm. At one time, the barest of thoughts would have propelled her magic to take care of such injuries.

But that magic had failed her.

Nay, you failed.

Sonya squeezed her eyes close to shut out the loud, and persistent, voice in her head. She was nothing without her magic. How could she help the others at MacLeod Castle? How could she look each of them in the eye day after day knowing her magic was gone?

Vanished. Disappeared. Lost.

Everything she was, everything she had been was no longer there. Her life had been defined as a Druid. Without magic she could no longer call herself a Druid.

And that distressed her far more than her sliced palm.

Another growl, this one closer, more looming. She tried to gain her feet, but she was weak from lack of food.

Sonya had been dodging the wolf for days. Or was it weeks? She had lost track of time after her flight from MacLeod Castle. She no longer knew where she was, and even if she wanted to return to the castle, she couldn’t get there.

If you want to live, get up. Run!

Sonya wasn’t ready to die. She didn’t give up easily.

Liar. You never try for the things you want. Like Broc.

A tear slipped down Sonya’s cheek at the thought of Broc. Each time she closed her eyes she could see the Warrior kneeling in the midst of the bloody battle at the castle holding Anice in his arms as he bellowed for Sonya to heal her sister.

A sister who had known him. Broc, the one man Sonya had wanted for herself. The one thing she hadn’t had the courage to make known her feelings.

Sonya shoved aside thoughts of Broc as she grabbed hold of the nearest tree with her good hand and pulled herself to her feet. She leaned against the trunk and glanced around the forest for the wolf.

Nowhere did she see the creature, but she knew he was near. The black beast was large and ravenous. It would take just one swipe of his huge paw to end her life.

Sonya cradled her wounded hand against her chest and wondered how much longer she could evade the wolf. It was a cunning animal.

The trees swayed above Sonya, reminding her of the magic that used to allow her to commune with them. How she missed their knowledge, their words. Their magic. Being among the trees had always soothed her, but no longer. Not since her magic had abandoned her.

Sonya knew she had to move if she wanted a chance at survival. Remaining meant certain death. After a deep breath, she stepped away from the tree and turned, only to freeze in place as the wolf stood in front of her.

He growled again, lifting its lips to show large fangs which dripped with saliva. The animal crouched with its ears back against its head, its muscles tensed, ready to spring at her.

Time slowed to a standstill. With her heart pounding slow and hard, Sonya knew she had only once chance to get away. She lifted her skirts and ran to her left.

Her feet slipped on the dried leaves and pine needles coating the forest floor, but she kept moving. Behind her, she could hear the wolf as it crashed through the trees chasing her.

And rapidly gaining ground.

With hair tangling about her sweat-soaked face, Sonya glanced back and saw the wolf almost upon her. A scream lodged in her throat, but before the sound could release, the ground fell from beneath her.

Suddenly, the earth rose up to meet her face. Sonya grunted as her head slammed into the ground and she began to roll. She tried without success to grab a hold of anything that would slow her descent. The sky mixed with the ground to become a whirl of colors which spun around her as she continued her brutal tumble.

When she finally came to a grinding halt, it was with her body wrapped around the trunk of a young elm. The breath left her lungs in a whoosh, her body wracked with blinding pain. She tried to stay calm and suck in air, but the more she tried to breathe, the more her body refused to take in the air.

When breath finally filled her lungs, Sonya took it in deep and winced at the agony that exploded through her. She opened her eyes, but her world had yet to stop spinning.

And then she heard familiar growl. Much closer than ever before.

*   *   *

Broc fisted his hands, urgency and fear filling his stomach as he flew across the sky in his search for Sonya. Not even concern of discovery by mortals could keep him to the thick rain clouds above him.

He knew in his gut Sonya was in trouble. Her leaving the castle was so unlike anything she would do, but then again, he had yelled at her, blamed her for Anice’s death.

Broc regretted his words more than Sonya could possibly know. He’d been angry at himself—still was outraged—for failing to keep Anice safe as he had promised the girls when he had found them as babies.

It proved to him yet again that anyone who got close to him died. His grandmother had called it a curse. And it had followed him into his immortality.

For awhile he had thought the curse was gone, but then Anice died. But he wouldn’t allow anything to happen to Sonya. Even if it took him leaving her life forever, he’d do it just to keep her safe. And alive.

He flew faster, his wings beating loudly in his ears. As a Warrior, a Highlander with a primeval god bound inside him, he had special abilities. Each god had a power, and his was the capability to find anyone, anywhere.