Wicked Highlander

Twenty-eight

“Finally,” Fallon said as they stood before Deirdre’s mountain.

“It’s not going to be easy,” Ramsey stated as he eyed the mound of rock before them.

Logan chuckled. “Getting in will be easy, it’s the getting out part I’m concerned with.”

“Maybe you should stay behind,” Hayden said.

“And let you get yourself killed?” Logan snorted. “You need me to watch your back.”

Fallon shook his head at the banter between Logan and Hayden. The need to rush in and find Quinn was too much to bear, but for the sake of Larena, Lucan, and the others, Fallon had to be careful.

“You know what has to be done,” Larena said.

He frowned, hating that she was right. “I’d rather not.”

“It’s the reason I came, Fallon.”

Lucan nodded. “You need to let her go inside.”

Fallon knew Larena’s power to become invisible would allow them to find Quinn, but the thought of his wife, the woman who held his heart in her hands, in Deirdre’s mountain left him cold.

“I can handle myself,” Larena said. “I am a Warrior. I’ve proven to you countless times that I can take care of myself.”

“Aye, love, I know you can. I just like to be beside you just in case.”

She leaned in and kissed him. “And I love you for that, but you need to let me go now. We have to find Quinn.”

Fallon reluctantly stepped back. “Doona stay longer than you have to. Find him and get out.”

“It’s the finding him that’s going to take the longest,” Galen said. “Quinn could be anywhere in that mountain.”

Fallon cupped his hands on either side of Larena’s face. “Find Deirdre first. If Quinn isna with her, you’re likely to discover where he’s being held. Then it’ll be a matter of finding where he’s located after that.”

“I’ll find him, Fallon,” she promised.

“I have no doubt.” He pulled her into his arms and hugged her. “Just promise me you willna be caught.”

She leaned back to look into his eyes. “I’ll return to you. There’s nowhere else I belong.”

It took all of Fallon’s will to release her. In a blink she transformed, her spectacular iridescent skin shining in the sunlight a moment before she became invisible. Larena shed her clothes quickly after that.

There was a soft press on his check before she whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you,” he said. “Come back to me, Larena.”

There wasn’t a response, not that he needed one. She would return if she could. She was his life, and if for some reason Deirdre imprisoned Larena, Fallon would move heaven and earth to free his wife.

“She’ll be all right,” Lucan said.

Ramsey nodded in agreement. “Thank God we have Larena on our side.”

“Aye,” Fallon said, though he wished he’d been the one that could turn invisible. He’d rather put himself in that kind of danger than his wife.

Marcail knew the moment the Pit door opened they had come for her. At the entrance to the cave stood the tall winged Warrior. Arran and Duncan refused to let him pass, so Marcail went to him.

“You’ve come for me?” she asked the Warrior.

“I have.”

“Broc,” Arran said. “Doona take her.”

So this was Broc, the one Quinn spoke of often. Marcail glanced at his large wings and couldn’t help but wonder how they looked spread. “He has no choice,” Marcail said.

“Everyone has a choice,” Duncan said.

Marcail put her hands on Duncan and Arran as she walked past them to stand beside Broc. She faced the two Warriors who had guarded her. “Remember what I told you.”

“Marcail,” Arran warned.

“Leave it,” Broc said. “She must come with me now.”

Marcail’s legs shook so badly they threatened to give out on her. Somehow she managed to follow Broc from the Pit without making a fool of herself. As she passed Charon’s cave, she saw the copper Warrior staring at her, his eyes haunted.

He didn’t wear the expression of a man who had gotten what he wanted. In fact, he looked almost beaten down.

When she and Broc left the Pit and the door closed behind her, Marcail took a deep breath and tried to remain as steadfast as she had in the cave.

It wasn’t easy.

She had no idea where Broc was taking her and if it would lead to imminent death.

“Keep up,” Broc said over his shoulder.

Marcail had to lift her skirts and practically run to keep up with his long strides. The dark blue Warrior seemed to be in a great hurry.

“Have you seen Quinn? Is he all right?” She knew she shouldn’t ask, but she had to know.

“Keep your thoughts on yourself.”

She halted. “Nay.”

Broc slowed, then stopped and turned to face her. “What did you say?”

“I said nay. I want to know of Quinn or I’m not moving.”

He took a step toward her. “I could toss you over my shoulder.”

“You could.”

After a moment Broc sighed. “Quinn is fine. Deirdre willna hurt him. Now, come with me, Druid.”

Now that Marcail knew Quinn wasn’t being harmed she continued after Broc. She knew in her heart Deirdre would plan a painful death for her.

Marcail had never feared dying, but she wished she’d had more time with Quinn. Those few precious hours had been the best of her life, even though they were spent in Deirdre’s mountain.

But her one regret was not recalling the spell. She’d almost had it. She had been so close. If she’d only have recognized what the chanting was earlier she could have already had the spell and freed so many men from their gods, as well as thwarting Deirdre.

Marcail stopped just short of running into Broc’s featherless wings as he came to a sudden halt. The Warrior looked at her and pointed to a door that stood open and led to a dark chamber.

“You need to go in there.”

Marcail looked into the chamber and took in a calming breath. “Tell me what awaits me.”

“Freedom. If you hurry.”

She frowned, her lips parting in confusion. “Are you jesting?”

“Nay. Get in,” he said and took her by the arm to shove her into the room.

Marcail spun around to find Broc had followed her and pulled the door closed behind him. “What is going on?” she demanded.

“I’m trying to help you and Quinn.”

She wanted to believe Broc, but since she couldn’t see his face, she couldn’t look into his eyes and see his emotions. “Is there a light?”

No sooner had she said the words than a candle flared to life. Broc lit two more before he folded his arms over his chest.

“Tell me why you are helping me,” she urged.

Broc gave a slow shake of his head. “Does it matter? I have my reasons.”

Marcail wanted to know those reasons, but she could tell by the stubborn set of his jaw that she would get no more out of him. She had to decide whether to trust him or not, and with her life on the line, she didn’t have much of a choice.

“All right.”

“Good. Now, I’m going to help get Quinn out, but first, I need to get you away from Deirdre. She learned you were in the Pit.”

Somehow, that didn’t surprise her. “Did Charon tell her?”

“Aye,” Broc mumbled. “Doona blame the Warrior, though. Deirdre has ways of extracting information whether a person wants to give it or not. I’m surprised you were able to stay in the Pit as long as you have.”

“It was Quinn. He kept me safe.”

Broc nodded. “Everyone knows that.”

“Deirdre won’t be happy with him.”

“She ordered me to bring you to her. I doona know her plans for you, but they canna be good. I heard that she has used you to get Quinn into her bed faster.”

Marcail leaned against the wall and squeezed her eyes shut. “Dear God. That cannot happen. Quinn cannot give her the baby she wants.”

“I agree. I’m going to tell Deirdre that you escaped.”

“Won’t she punish you?”

One side of Broc’s mouth lifted in a half smile. “I can withstand it. The important thing is for you to get out of the mountain. Take this,” he said and handed her what looked like a black veil.

“What is it?”

“The servants wear them. It will cover your face and keep you unnoticed. Watch your hair though. All of the women have had their hair shorn off. Nothing of yours can show.”

“Does my gown matter?” she said as she looked down to find it stained.

“Aye. I’ve procured one of the servants’ gowns for you as well.”

She prayed Broc was truly helping her and not setting her up for Deirdre’s amusement. “Thank you.”

“The servants keep their heads down and doona speak unless spoken to. You should be able to move freely. To depart the mountain, you need to leave this chamber and turn right. The corridor is long, but stay on it. Doona venture down any of the stairwells. If you stay on the main corridor it will lead you to the upper level.”

She stared at him, absorbing everything he said. “I understand.”

“There is a doorway on the top level. You’ll have to walk past Deirdre’s chambers. Her doors are always shut and Warriors are standing guard. Once you pass them, you’ll take the next hallway to the left. It will take you up a flight of stairs to the door. The door isna easily seen by mortals. You’ll have to search for the handle.”

“First hallway on the left after Deirdre’s chamber,” she repeated.

“I’m not going to be able to be with you. When I leave, I’ll have to raise the alarm immediately lest Deirdre become suspicious. Get changed and out of here as soon as you can.”

Marcail licked her lips and swallowed. “I will.”

He paused at the door and turned to look at her. “Good luck.”

“Thank you, Broc. If you ever need anything, all you need to do is ask.”

He gave her a curt nod, and then he was gone.

Marcail jerked off her gown and hurried to pull on the one given to her. It was coarse and bleached of all color, but it would help her blend in.

She left her hair tucked into the back of the gown and pulled the veil over her head, making sure her face was covered.

The veil was long and hung past her shoulders, and it wasn’t easy to see through the dark material. Anything, however, was better than what awaited her with Deirdre.

Marcail blew out the candles and opened the door. She glanced first one way, then the other before she stepped into the corridor. She kept her head down as Broc had advised her.

Broc hadn’t lied about spreading the alarm right away. Several Warriors came running toward her. Marcail’s heart pounded so loudly in her chest she was sure they would hear it.

She stopped and put her back to the wall to allow the Warriors to pass. They didn’t look her way as they rushed down the hall.

Marcail smiled to herself as relief poured through her. Thanks to Broc, she would make it out of the mountain for sure.