The Magic Knot (25 page)

Five feet until he reached the wooden box.

Nearly there.

Pain pierced the base of his spine, exploding up and down, freezing every nerve, every muscle. He dragged breath into lungs heavy with cold, stumbled to his knees, and toppled forward, the side of his face smashing against the granite floor.

With agonizing effort, he lifted his head. Nightshade crawled toward him, pushing the box ahead. Niall dug his fingernails and boots into the granite and inched forward. Another foot and he’d be there. Once Rose’s blood on the ensorcelled dagger touched the stones, the magic would take over.

With every fiber of his being, Niall willed himself on. Ice water ran where his blood should be. His teeth chattered. His breath misted before him. Muscles seized up. With a painful thud that sent stars spinning before his eyes, his head fell forward.

“What’s happening?” Muffled and distant, Rose’s voice reached him as if in a dream. Body useless, face pressed into the grit, he sought the warmth of Rose’s love to chase back the chill invading his heart. He couldn’t reach her. Tristan’s spell must have locked him into his body. Nightshade had been right: the druid was dangerous.

Tristan’s black patent shoes appeared a few inches from his face. “You nearly fooled me, but the way she looked at you tipped me off.” He stooped and dragged the leather thong from Niall’s pocket.

The druid dangled the Magic Knot before Niall’s face and let the stones bump the toe of his shoe. The chill in Niall’s body frosted his heart. He’d let Rose down, let the piskies down.

“So that means…” Tristan caught hold of the chain around Niall’s neck and yanked it free. He crouched down and cupped Rose’s Magic Knot in his hand for Niall to see. “These are my daughter’s.” He dropped Niall’s stones into his palm before rolling the two sets around together. “I must say, I’m impressed by how fast you work. I had the impression your brother was the charmer. If I cared about Rose, I’d be pleased with her choice.” He stroked Niall’s hair and sighed. “Such a waste. Never mind, at least you have the consolation of knowing you’ll die together.”

Rose strained her neck to see what was happening behind her, but they were all out of sight. “Niall,” she shouted. She could hear the murmur of voices echoing in the cavernous chamber, but no one answered.

Niall had sprinted away with purpose after catching his stones. Maybe he wasn’t answering her because he was in the middle of trying to free the piskies. She gazed at the paintings dimly illuminated by candles on the walls. None of the pictures moved—yet.

Rose pulled on the straps Jacca had fastened loosely around her wrists. With a few tugs her hands slid free. Leaning up on an elbow, she peered into the gloom and saw Tristan crouched beside two prone bodies.

Niall
! She probed for their link. A blast of mind-numbing cold hit her. The chill crawled into her core, crept along her limbs. What the hell had Tristan done to him?

She bent forward and fumbled with the knots at her ankles. Her body shook with each thump of her heart as she wriggled off the far end of the table and hid behind the hunk of rock supporting the surface. What could she do? At any moment Tristan might notice she
wasn’t where he’d left her. Rose dragged her hands through her hair and tried to get her brain in gear. Jacca had said her blood was needed to raise the piskies. How?
Damn Niall.
Why hadn’t he told her what he planned to do?

Rose peered around the table to check what was happening. Niall and Jacca were both still motionless on the ground.
Oh, God, Niall.
She opened herself to him again, and at the icy touch pulled back.

Tristan stood and walked from Niall to Jacca. He halted, hands on hips, and shook his head. “I’m disappointed in you, Nightshade. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You betrayed your troop; now you betray me. They say a leopard doesn’t change its spots.”

Jacca had betrayed the troop? The thought puzzled her for a moment, but was knocked from her head as Tristan slammed the toe of his shoe into Jacca’s gut. Rose jerked back and pressed her hand to her mouth to stifle her cry. Had Tristan kicked Niall as well when she wasn’t watching?

She must do something.
Now.

Rose crawled beneath the side of the table in the deepest shadows, getting a little closer. Perhaps if she ran away, Tristan would follow her and leave the men to recover.
Idiot! That’s so lame
. She squeezed her eyes closed.
Come on, woman. Use your brain.

Tristan unhooked the key ring holding the Magic Knot from Jacca’s belt, then dropped the stones in his palm. It was a safe bet Tristan had taken Niall’s stones as well. What about hers? Cold sweat prickled her body, and nausea swirled in her gut. She was certain the sick taint of his touch on her stones was causing her queasiness.

What had Niall planned to do? A box lay on the
ground between the two prone men. Rose squinted through the gloom. Was that a dagger in Niall’s outstretched hand?

Tristan jangled the three sets of stones and smirked down at the men. “Do you know how I shattered the piskies’? It’s ridiculously easy.” His lips peeled back in a malevolent grin that spiked fear through Rose. “Let me give you a demonstration.”

Tipping his hand, Tristan let the Magic Knots tumble to the floor. Blinding pain crashed through her skull as the stones hit. Rose clamped her hands over her head, clenching her teeth.

When she recovered enough to look up, Tristan was pushing one set of stones into a heap with his toe. He raised his heel above them. “I didn’t think I’d have to do this to you, Nightshade.” He released a deep, gusty sigh.

Tristan stamped down.

Jacca convulsed.

His animalistic cry echoed around the cavern. Her father raised his foot and examined the stones. “Tough guy, tough stones,” he said, and crashed his heel on them again.

If Jacca were split up without a painting for his body to pass into, what would happen to him? She pressed her hands over her mouth as Tristan raised his heel a third time.

For God’s sake, move. Do something. Anything.
She blinked against the throbbing in her head and tensed her muscles. Dark waves of nausea rolled over her as she tried to stand. Clutching at the table, she collapsed back to the ground.

Tristan banged his foot down. Jacca’s scream echoed with primeval horror that would stay with her for the
rest of her life. His body shimmered, faded, and melted away into shadow.

Jacca!
She pressed her hands over her eyes. He’d saved her life by flying her out of Ireland, and she’d sat here and watched her father kill him. Bile burned the back of her throat, and she fought the need to throw up.

Blinking back tears, she watched her father push the stones on the leather thong into a heap. “Not so superior now, are you, proud Tuatha Dé Danaan?” He crouched and angled his head to see Niall’s face. “You always thought you were better than me, didn’t you? Conceited as the bloody piskies.”

She would not let Tristan do the same to Niall.

Rose swallowed hard and pushed herself to her feet. She blinked to clear her head and made herself walk toward Tristan. “You bastard.”

Tristan glanced up and rose slowly to his feet. “Nightshade didn’t tie you properly. I should have known.”

Rose faltered to a stop ten feet from him and scanned Niall’s body. She had no idea how to stop Tristan, but she couldn’t let him break Niall’s stones.

Tristan crossed his arms and smirked. “Have you just come to watch, or do you plan to try to stop me?”

Cool air carrying the scent of almonds feathered her skin.
Jacca?
Was he still here?

Rosenwyn
, Jacca’s voice whispered in her mind.

She tried to scan the room from the corner of her eye to see his shade.

Put Niall’s knife in the wooden box. I’ll distract Tristan.

Tristan raised his foot over Niall’s Magic Knot.

“No!” Rose lunged at her father.

He lifted his hand. A dark nimbus of power danced around his fingers and shot out bolts of black fire. Rose lunged sideways, landing heavily, one arm numbed with cold from his attack.

Jacca’s man-shaped shade materialized beside Tristan. The druid’s eyes widened, and he backed away with his hand out. Black, smoky bursts flared from Tristan’s fingers and passed through the shadow ineffectually. When her father turned to run, he managed two steps before he grunted and fell on his face.

Rose scrambled up, hugging her cold-deadened arm to her body, and ran toward Niall. Although desperate to check that he wasn’t hurt, she forced herself to first pull the dagger from his limp fingers and throw it at the wooden box. The blade hit the side and bounced onto the ground. “Bloody hell!” Did everything have to be difficult? Rose crawled forward and snatched the knife up. This time she held the handle as she plunged the smoky quartz into the box.

Stone crunched against stone. It took her a moment to realize the box contained the piskies’ broken Magic Knots.

Stirring the stone fragments with the dagger, she made sure every piece touched her blood. Rose gathered the pieces of Jacca’s Magic Knot off the ground and added them to the box.

Close by, Tristan grunted, his limp body bouncing on the ground like a broken doll as Jacca’s shade pummeled him. Pain etched his face into a white mask of death as he caught her in his malicious gaze. “You’ll…pay….”

Rose ignored him and touched the knife to Jacca’s stones, then waited. Flickers of light jumped from the box, and the contents started to hum and sizzle. Rose
dragged herself backward, worried the magic might be dangerous. A hand gripped her leg and she screamed.

Niall had pushed himself up onto all fours and crawled across to her.

“You’re all right.” Relief clogged her throat with tears. “God, I was scared.” Rose put her good arm around his neck and pressed their cheeks together. For a second she drew strength from the solidity of him, the familiar scent of his skin.

“Globes,” he forced out in a dry voice.

She pulled back, and her heart contracted as she examined his damaged face.

Gingerly she traced his cheekbone and forehead, both bruised purple and spotted with bloody pocks where grit was embedded in his skin. Licking his lips, he tried twice to get his words out. “Smash…the globes.”

Rose followed his gaze toward a dark bundle by the wall.

On shaking legs, she walked around the wooden box, which was shooting out sparks like fireworks. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, a strange tingle of excitement and trepidation racing along her nerves. The piskies would soon be flesh and blood.

Rose eased down to her knees beside the bundle and pulled the brown animal-skin covering away. Blinding golden light pierced her retinas before she could throw an arm over her eyes.

“Smash them, Rose,” Niall shouted. She peeped at him from behind her arm as he fell back to the ground, chest heaving with the effort of shouting.

Her father writhed on the floor close to Niall. As she watched, the shadowy form pinning him took on
Jacca’s shape and grew solid. Her blood on the broken Magic Knots must be working. A heady burst of relief gave her renewed strength.

Rose balled the animal skin over her fist and, closing her eyes, smashed the first globe. She’d expected it to be tough, but it shattered like eggshell. Squinting to check her aim, she brought her fist down on the second globe. Careful of the glittering splinters of glass, she pulled the animal skin off her hand and collapsed back against the wall. She’d done all she could. Now it was up to the piskies to do the rest.

Two clouds of scintillating golden light rose from the shattered globes and swirled together. Instinctively she grabbed a breath and shielded her face as the light engulfed her. Images flashed in her mind of the people she’d known all her life from the tarot cards: smiling, laughing, dancing in this very place wearing bright, extravagant clothing. She saw their memories of her mother, young and beautiful, seated on a throne of twining branches beside a dark-haired man who must have been Rose’s grandfather. Snippets of conversation drifted through her mind.
My queen, my queen
, repeated like a mantra in her head. After what could have been a few seconds or an hour, the cloud drifted away. A sense of peace and stillness filled her.

The twinkling light floated around Niall, and his body relaxed. Was he, too, seeing images of the troop? Once the cloud drifted away, he sat up and rubbed a hand across his mouth. Rose struggled up, made her way to him, and leaned into his welcoming embrace. With her cheek against his chest, she watched eddies of light brush across Jacca while he struggled with Tristan.

The cloud sharpened into a golden spear, plunged down, and arrowed in through her father’s eyes.

Jacca jerked back as a strangled sound gargled from Tristan’s throat. Niall’s hand cradled her head and pulled her face against his chest. She concentrated on the steady thud of Niall’s heart and the feel of his lips brushing her temple. “’Tis over now, love. ’Tis over.”

When she looked around, Jacca was sitting, ramrod stiff, eyes fixed on the glowing trails of light that issued from her father’s body. The light fractured into points, making Jacca duck as the sparks zoomed past him, then shot off around the room toward the paintings.

Niall cupped her chin and turned her face up, his eyes warm and gentle. “I’m sorry, lass. I should have told you.”

Her eyes filled with tears at the sudden release of tension. “Tristan’s dead,” she whispered.

“Aye. That he is.”

She wasn’t going to die. Niall wasn’t going to die. His arms were around her, his heart beating strongly against her ear. The huge strength of his spirit surrounded her and filled her with love. They were together and would stay together.

“I’ll forgive you this time.” She clasped his hand and summoned a little lopsided smile. “Just don’t do it again.”

“Look!” Jacca called.

She peered out from the safety of Niall’s embrace and watched, stupefied, as the figures on the paintings moved, filled out, then stepped from the pictures. Nearest to her, the young man in the Seven of Cups jumped down from his painting, shook out his red cloak, and flicked back long golden hair. He turned emerald eyes on her, and his mouth tilted into a wickedly sensual grin. The seductive pull of his glamour tightened deep in her belly.

She shook her head and gave him a reprimanding look. He pouted, then stepped forward and bowed with a flourish. “I am Thorn, beautiful Queen. I am completely at your service.” It looked like Michael would have some competition.

Niall turned his head one way, then the other, gazing around the room. “We have some live ones.” He dropped a kiss on her hair and helped her up. “Before we get caught up, there’s something I’ve been meaning to say to you, lass.” He rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip. “I love you.”

She reached up and touched his face. “Then trust me. Don’t shut me out again.”

He lowered his head and stroked his lips across hers. “Never.”

Jacca approached, went down on one knee, and offered them their Magic Knots. “My queen.” He gave Rose hers. “My king.” He handed Niall his.

Rose frowned at his subservience. “What’s gotten into you? Get up. We’re still the same people.” The flash of fear in Nightshade’s eyes shocked her. “What’s wrong?”

Jacca looked over his shoulder, and Rose followed his gaze toward the multitude of brightly colored figures emerging from paintings around the room. “Will you speak for me? I worked with Tristan and…” He dropped his gaze and curled his fist against his thigh. “They’ll banish me.”

“Not if I’ve got anything to say about it.” She surveyed the curious expressions turned her way. Her only experience of fairies en masse was at the Irish court, and no way would she allow her people to be that heartless. She looked at Niall. “You’ll speak up for him, won’t you?”

Niall cut her a sideways glance. “Don’t suppose I’ve got a choice.” When she glared at him, he huffed a breath. “We’ll both speak for you, stalker. Now get off your knees, boyo, before I have to drag you up.”

Jacca stood and tilted his chin with a return of his familiar arrogance. “You couldn’t drag me anywhere, Irish.”