“He had two blades,” Keenan said (32 page)

She shook her head and brushed the tears off her cheeks. “You are not one of them.” Serena tried to steady her quivering voice. “The prophecy marks you for death, Keenan.”

“Yer sight marks most of them for death, Love,” he pointed out.

Serena jumped up. “But they don’t know that. I will go down there and tell them all what I see, then they’ll stay home.”

Keenan pushed her back down. “Nay,” his voice warned. “Doona put the fear of death in them. It will crumble their will.”

“But it will stop them from going.”

Keenan shook his head. “It willna. They will still go, for not to would make them cowards, afraid of death like Lachlan has been his whole life. For those ye scare into staying, ye will dishonor. For those who still go, ye will kill their confidence. It is what feeds their strength. Confidence and courage will carry them through this battle. Without it, ye will kill them.”

Serena flashed watery eyes at him. She stayed seated. Keenan knelt down before her. “Lass, every wife must wish her husband farewell to battles.”

“Not every husband has lived for his death,” she whispered in the cold room.

He shook his head and tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. “I no longer live for my death,” he said. “My life changed when I realized that I loved ye, Serena. I wished, back in our clearing under the stars. I wished to live my life with ye, a long life. That wish willna change no matter what enemy I face.” He squeezed her hands as if willing her to understand. “Before, I never cared if I returned from a battle. Now I ken that I must.”

Keenan pulled a soft cloth from his belt and wiped the tears washing her cheeks. The anger drained out and her shoulders sagged. Serena took a long deep breath past the ache in her chest. Keenan saw her resignation. He stood, wrapping his strong arms around her. Serena clung, rubbed her face into him, and breathed his scent. She felt his hands play through her hair.

“I will not be left up here while you ride away,” she said. “I will not play the coward, either.” Serena felt his chin graze her head as he nodded.

“You could never play the coward, my lovely warrior.” He kissed her hair, then pulled away slightly. He pulled a dagger from his boot. The light caught the glint of the sharp blade. Intricate knots twined together along the silver length up into the cross hilt. “It was my mother’s, gifted to me to help me defend, to help me to fulfill my obligations.” He looked at it and turned its hilt to Serena. “Keep it with ye.” He said as she slid it from his hand. “Ye’ll be safe here, but I want ye to keep it with ye.”

A quarter hour later, Serena’s wobbly legs flew down the winding stairs into the great hall, its silence profound like that in a tomb. She shuddered and wrapped her wool cloak tightly as she pushed out through the oaken doors. Elenor stood next to Robert MacKay and William.

William, she hadn’t even greeted him yet. One look from him, one touch of his arms around her, and she knew that he understood. She pulled away and turned barely concealed tears up to his eyes. “I love him, William.”

William touched her forehead with his. “I know, Àngelas, I know,” he said pulling her to his side. “But he must go.”

Serena looked out across the Maclean warriors standing in orderly groups within the bailey. Keenan walked amongst them, issuing orders, inspecting weapons, horses and supplies.

Elenor looped her arm through hers. “He’s made sure that the Macleans have their own supplies. He doesn’t trust the Prince to bring enough food for his troops.” Serena nodded numbly as she focused on Keenan, his tall figure walking with confidence and strength among his men.

Perhaps with his decision to go they wouldn’t look so bloody to her. Serena turned her attention to some of the troops and little by little lowered her defenses, spying as if through her fingers to see their futures. She spotted Rus, the spear still poked out gruesomely from his gut. Serena caught her breath, her legs losing their strength. Elenor pulled her up against her.

“No, no, I’m fine,” Serena lied as she slammed the layer of protection back in place. She had to be strong, as strong as the men before her and the women and children huddled within the walls placing bits of ribbon and early spring flowers in the tunics of their husbands, brothers, sons, and fathers.

Keenan spotted her and walked through the soldiers towards her. Serena formed a stiff smile on her lips. Shoulders back, chin held even, eyes clear of tears. Keenan walked up the steps, and she pulled the green ribbon holding her hair. She tied the ribbon tightly to a strap that ran above his heart.

“Fare thee well, Keenan,” her voice rang out in the hushed air. “Come home to me.” He stepped up and pulled her into his embrace. His warm lips moved against hers for an intimate moment before he pulled away. The angry cries of crows overhead fell across the bailey as a brisk morning wind whipped hair around her head, sending its ends flapping like a flag. Keenan captured the errant strands in his leather-clad hand.

“Trust me, Serena. I will be with ye again.”

Despite her will, tears threatened, but she sniffed, refusing to let them come. Keenan turned away, and she watched her warrior jog back down the steps
toward Thomas and Ewan.

Lachlan sat mounted near the gates. His eyes met Serena’s and he nodded. She nodded back. Fury no longer contorted his face.

“Serena,” Brodick’s voice caught her attention from where he stood below on a step. Gavin stood beside him. They were suited like the others.

“Brodick, Gavin, find your mounts,” she said softly.

“Keenan just asked us to secure yer safety, Milady,” Gavin said.

“So we will stay behind to guard ye,” Brodick finished.

Panic gripped the inside of Serena’s stomach. “No, no,” her frantic whispers rushed out of her as she grasped Brodick’s tunic. She stepped down so that she was level with his face. “You are going today.”

“Lass?”

Serena touched Brodick’s face with her fingertips. Yes, there it was, reluctance to stay behind. Disappointment, impotence. The panic in her stomach relaxed slightly. “You have to go, Brodick, you and Gavin,” she looked at her other friend. “William and Robert will watch Elenor and me. But you must go.”

“Keenan worries about ye,” Gavin said.

Serena looked past the two warriors and watched Keenan’s back as he rode out of the bailey, out onto the road leading through the village. In orderly fashion the Maclean warriors followed, some on horseback, some on foot. Wagons of supplies lumbered through the gates.

“Nay lass,” Brodick said. “We will stay to guard ye.”

Serena looked back into Brodick’s eyes. “Brodick,” desperation seeped into her voice. “Who will guard Keenan?” The two warriors looked at one another, and then back to her. “With your prophecy, no one will guard Keenan’s back. They will all guard Lachlan thinking that he is the one to survive, not Keenan. Who will guard Keenan’s back?”

Brodick looked at her for a long moment. He frowned deeply, and then slowly nodded. He kissed her hand and turned on the stairs.

“Brodick, what are ye doing?” Gavin asked.

Brodick looked back at Serena. “I’m going to aid the Maclean who has wed the witch, who with him will bring peace to our clan.”

Serena nodded at him.

Gavin looked between them and let out a loud huff, his breath puffing white in the chill.

“They left us but one horse,” Gavin groaned. Minutes later the two warriors sat on Brodick’s large horse.

“Fare thee well,” Serena called as she and Elenor waved to the two men. The horse snorted and turned in a run through the gate after the army of Maclean warriors.

As the gateman rotated the gears to lower the heavy iron bars, Serena pushed her hand into her pocket
where Merewin’s healing crystal sat with a bit of the Maclean plaid. The scrap of fabric
was part of the blanket Keenan had used to handfast them in the clearing. In the privacy of her pocket she wound it around her fingers.

Elenor hugged Serena’s shoulders. “Trust in him, Serena. Ye will be together again.”

Serena nodded. “Yes we will.” She turned to go inside, her next words caught within a gust of wind. “In this life or in death. We will be together again.”

Chapter 16

Drakkina stood in a pentagon scratched into the layer of meadow, her arms stretched out above her head. Her voice throbbed through the sun filled circle within the soaring rocks.

“I call out to the wind, to the sky, to the fire of the sun.” She tilted her face up to catch the heat of the glowing orb directly above her. She spread her feet apart in a V where she stood among the wildflowers that stood still, absolutely still as if listening to her words. “I call out to the earth that circles life through its layers, to the rocks that support us upon their shoulders.” She moved her arms, rotating them, her aged fingers pointed toward the western shore. “I call to the water that gives life to this world.” Drakkina closed her eyes and raised her hands upward until they pointed in line with the fierce sun overhead. “I need your strength, the power from each element. Fill me up, gift me with your power as I gift you with a sacrifice of my blood.” Drakkina drew her nail across her palm, her magic easily cutting into her own misty flesh. Black red blood swelled along the line, and she held it over the center of the pentagon. Drops of her blood, misty, half-real blood dripped onto the scuffed dirt and scattered flowers.

A howl resonated through Drakkina’s ears as a hot wind whipped up and through the tall stones. The heads of each wildflower bowed down flat as if in worship. Drakkina held her arms open wide. Her long white hair whipped around with her flowing robes. The heat branded her skin, scorching with its power.

Drakkina smiled, her eyes closed to the onslaught of power. She knew, she heard. The stones. The tones vibrated, swirling with wild magic, bouncing off each of the ten stones where they stood guarding the sacred circle. The power poured into Drakkina, fighting against her indrawn breath, squeezing her as if there was no room left in the circle for her ephemeral body.

Drakkina forced a breath down into her aching chest. “Yes,” she screamed above the cacophony of swirling, vibrating chords of sound. “Yes, bring me your power.
Death stalks Serena and her mate. I need your power to bring her here to safety.
It must be done.”

With her last word, Drakkina opened her eyes to the blinding light of magic glowing in the circle. The white light swirled around the inside of the stones. She moved her arms to mimic the swirl, and the glow began to move in harmony with her arms as if it picked up the rhythm of an ancient dance.

Drakkina pulled the power into a tight ball above the center of the pentagon. It was not physical, but mental strength, strength that came with centuries of training and honing her skill that wound the thread of elemental magic into her.

The light hit the center of her palms first, the burning tight against her skin. She pulled then, from her center. Slowly the hot light bore down through Drakkina, sliding between her ribs and spine, flicking along the vessels and arteries, pumping the magic through her entire body.

As the last of the energy disappeared inside Drakkina’s body, she lowered her arms and breathed deeply. The space was once more empty air, the tightness released, now running through the spaces of her body.

Drakkina smiled and bent down to study her misty body. It looked solid, to the point that her legs almost blocked the sight of the wildflowers behind them.

“Thank you,” she whispered and wrapped arms around her once tired body that now resonated with youth and energy. “I will use your gift wisely.” The breeze swayed the flower heads and rippled through the trees outside the circle. A swarm of dragonflies moved above the trees and zipped down as one body to engulf Drakkina. She turned toward the east with determination.

“Deny me now, Serena. I dare you.” Drakkina held her hands out to that direction and felt currents of power gathering through her. “Come to me, Serena. Come. And bring your Highlander with you.”

****

It was nearly noon. The hot, clear sun beat down as Serena walked the edges of the bailey, speaking in soothing tones to the women and children of the departed warriors. It had been a day and a half since the men had left. Even though the threat to Kylkern was minimal, many of the families had come to stay within its walls. Serena and Elenor opened the castle to all who could fit as if they were under siege. The close proximity of the nervous, anxious people pummeled Serena with emotional energy. She was becoming mentally exhausted at holding the voices and unease at bay.

Serena ducked through the doorway and stepped past several playing children on her way into the great hall. She sat down next to Elenor and William at the long table. Robert Mackay stood across from her.

“I’m off to make the rounds,” he said and stood.

“Thank you, Robert,” she smiled weakly as he nodded and turned toward the door.

“I am tired,” Serena said softly.

William took a drink of mead and looked at her. “No doubt the press of so much unease,” he said glancing around the hushed mill of people in the hall.

Elenor leaned toward them. “It’s as if they know the battle will not go well.”

“I said nothing,” Serena defended in hushed tones.

Elenor nodded. “I know, but we often underestimate the power of intuition in women.” Elenor squeezed Serena’s hand. “I think ye should take a nap, Serena.”

“Like a babe?”

“Shall I carry you up to your rooms?” William said rising from the bench.

“I can make my way on my own,” Serena said softly and turned from the room. She crept up the steps slowly, her mind and heart twisting and tumbling with sorrow. She was crumbling, succumbing to the despair of losing him.

Serena leaned into the roughness of the wall, letting her tears soak the granite. She hadn’t replaced her gloves after eating, and she ran her hands along its hardness and strength. Serena stopped in mid sob as a spark of power surged up her fingertip as she grazed one of the chiseled mason’s marks. She blinked to clear her eyes. It was the dragonfly mark.

The mark hummed with energy, and the image coalesced into that of a real dragonfly. She blinked again. Had the membranous wings really lifted from the rigid rock? Timidly she ran her palm over the space just above the image. Warmth, tingling warmth, pulled at her.

Tears dried sticky on her cheeks, and her heart pounded behind shallow breaths. Slowly she lowered her hand until it came in contact with the hot stone image. Need shot through the touch, up her arm, spreading down to her heart and up into her mind. Need to move, to move west.

“I must go,” Serena said to the stone, answering its spell. The power urged her to go, but her rational mind questioned how. The gates were lowered, only opened for needs, not desires. “Follow the marks.” The words echoed in her mind as if someone had spoken them aloud.

Serena only then realized that her birthmark tingled where it lay etched in her skin. Glancing again at the rock, her eyes turned downward, down each narrow step, knowing without being shown where the next dragonfly mark was chiseled into the stone of the castle. She took several steps down, turning with the winding staircase until she found the next. Sliding her hand along its shape, she once again knew where to find the next dragonfly mark lower still. She walked on.

A mist flooded her mind, a dark warm mist like a pleasant dream. So tired. Serena’s legs continued to follow mark after mark. Vaguely Serena knew that the magic must come from Drakkina, as the Wiccan priestess’s mark tingled.

Maybe Drakkina could help. The woman was determined to protect her in the stone circle to the west.

Serena released her last thread of resistance to the pull. Her mind fogged over, her vision dimmed as if she truly were asleep.

Time flitted and compressed as through a dream. So it seemed only a blink before Serena opened her eyes at the bite of wind as she walked sedately through the back gardens. Her feet carried her toward the next dragonfly mark in the castle wall near a newly tilled plot for herbs.

Serena watched detached as her hand ran up the side of the twenty-foot wall until her fingertip touched the center of the last dragonfly. It was as if she watched another, not her own hand. As she depressed the small stone in the middle of the carving, a hiss of wind blew through the widening crack that meandered subtly down the wall. Serena shoved against the stone and the seemingly unmovable blocks of granite swung outward.

“Serena!” She heard her name called as if from far away. “Serena, what are ye doing?” Elenor’s voice called to her as Serena slipped through the slender opening, ducking to fit under the mass of the huge wall above her.

“Stad! Stop, Serena, wait!”

She wanted to reply, turn to Elenor and assure her that she would be fine, but she couldn’t turn. One foot in front of the other, Serena walked west toward a tree where a horse stood. Where had the horse come from? What was Elenor saying behind her? Another wave of need washed through Serena, dissolving the questions. Serena notched her leather slipper in the stirrup and hoisted into the seat.

Something tugged at her skirts, but she barely noticed. So tired, she would just close her eyes and rest. Serena leaned down along the strong neck of the horse. She felt the beast’s strength, its blood throbbing beneath its skin. She heard her own steady breathing as darkness swirled around her. The horse’s body warmed her, and she belatedly realized that she was cold without her cloak.

A frantic voice, so small, pulled at her consciousness. It was almost completely engulfed by the sound of her breathing and the heartbeat of the horse.

“Nay Serena, doona go. What is happening? How did this horse even get here? How did ye ken that crack in the wall?” It sounded like Elenor’s voice. Why was Elenor here? Serena couldn’t remember. The voice was insistent. “Serena, climb down.”

Serena could no more climb down than she could fly. She was stuck in place, lying across her horse, waiting to go. It was time to go.

Serena felt a tug so hard that the side of the horse dipped. She clung to the mane and felt the deep whinny barreling up through the horse’s neck. The rocking righted itself and another warmth fell across her back, hugging her.

Elenor’s muted voice cut through the fog in Serena’s ear. “If yer going somewhere, I’m going with ye, Sister.”

The horse shot off into the woods behind Kylkern. Elenor’s cloak surrounded Serena from behind as her friend wrapped it around both of them.

Fear soaked into Serena, Elenor’s fear.

“Where are we going, Serena. Why doona ye answer me?”

Serena dragged her hand along her thigh behind to Elenor. Finding her friend’s hand, she clasped it. With a gentle squeeze, Serena tried to will calm into her friend. Elenor squeezed back tightly and leaned down against Serena’s back as the horse sped along through the woods.

****

Drakkina stood, arms akimbo. She watched with narrowed eyes as the horse approached through the thick forest ringing the circle. The second rider did not look like Serena’s Highlander. In fact, the second rider didn’t look like a man at all.

Caoch! She didn’t bring the Highlander! Keenan Maclean was still somewhere out there, somewhere unsafe at a time when Drakkina felt death lurking close to them. That’s why it was so imperative that they both come to the circle, where she could protect them. Instead, Serena brought a woman.

“Who are you?” Drakkina’s frustration poured acid into her words. Serena and the woman sat up as if they were one, Serena blinking from the spell and the other stared with wide eyes.

“Me?” the woman asked stupidly.

Drakkina threw her hands out toward Serena. “I know who she is. Who are you, and why aren’t you Keenan Maclean?”

Serena shook her head as if clearing it. “She is Keenan’s sister, Elenor, and a close friend of mine, my new sister in fact.”

“But where is Keenan Maclean?” Drakkina yelled, stamping her foot.

“Despite her temper, I think she means well, Elenor. Let us dismount,” Serena said.

The two women slid one after another down the labored horse. Drakkina flicked her fingers at the beast, and it walked out of the circle toward a creek for water and grass. Drakkina tried to quell her anger, her fear. She lowered her voice but the terseness could not be filtered out completely. “Again, where is Keenan Maclean, Serena, your soul mate? I need to protect you both.”

“Can you protect him?” Serena asked.

Elenor stayed toward the outer edge of the circle watching them.

“I can protect him in the circle, which is why I’ve called you here. Why didn’t you bring him? He’s tied to you.”

“He left for Culloden before you called me.”

“No! The fool!” Drakkina turned, her hands on her hips. Panic raced through as her eyes flew from stone to stone. Her blood pumped hard in her nearly solid veins. She hadn’t felt so alive in centuries, nor so scared. If the Highlander died, Serena wouldn’t have her soul mate. What would that do to her chances of winning in the final battle with the demons in the future? Each daughter must come to the battle with their soul mates beside them. She knew the instructions from her oracle. How could she fail with the very first one?

“Can you bring him here, Drakkina, save him?” Serena asked softly, weakness turning her face slack as if rain had washed off the colors from her spirit. Drakkina studied her, this sadness. For several beats, Drakkina’s heart clenched in pain at the despair enveloping Gilla’s first born. Then Drakkina’s mind took over, her determination, her resolve to save the worlds.