Page 57 of Connal

“A Fae’s death spell never ends, fool. ’Twas cast with his life as well as the last of his magic.” Dearg watched the princess without blinking. “Mayhap ’twas shed by the MacMar’s island, Fia?”

“Mar created Caladh before he died. ’Tis enveloping the mortal, mayhap protecting the slut.” Fiacail sent a wordless command to the rest of her sisters to ready themselves, and then carefully approached the enchantress. “My sovereign, do you wish us continue to Ornyst?”

“Change course to follow the spell trace,” Derdrui said without looking at her. “’Tis flowing back the way we came from the mainland. Someone there has been touched by Mar’s magic.”

The crew jumped into action, turning the vessel around and trimming the sails to catch the wind. Speal went to guide the rudder, and Dearg climbed to the topmost yard to serve as lookout. Fiacail made her rounds, assuring the sisters did their work properly, hoping the enchantress would return to her cabin. Instead Derdrui went to the bow, perching on it as the spell trace washed over the boat.

Fiacail knew their sovereign wouldn’t fall into the sea, but still hovered close enough to watch her. The enchantress seemed to be breathing in the prince’s magic, and at one point spread out her hands when the spell trace grew thicker. When the blue and green lights touched Derdrui’s skin they winked out, which made her wonder if she was somehow absorbing the power.

“Mar was a water elemental,” the princess said, as if she’d heard her thoughts. “I am a royal Therion, so our magics were discordant. That is why the prince’s spell trace repels you, and makes Speal’s flesh crawl. What little magic there is in your halfling blood jars with his.”

She drew a little closer. “It doesnae seem do the same to you, my sovereign.”

“Of course, it doesn’t.” Derdrui turned around so swiftly Fiacail flinched. “I am full-blood Fae, as was he. The portents promised Mar to me. From the beginning of time we were meant for each other, our lives intertwined over and again. Only he fell into Eilonwy’s snare. I had every right to slay that simpering woodland rat for stealing him from me.”

“Aye, my sovereign.” She bowed low.

“Cease your cowering.” The enchantress braced a hand on the railing as the boat pitched slightly. “I know only too well you will never understand what Fae love truly is. I gave my heart to the prince, wholly and without reserve––I, a royal who commanded the affections of the highest among the court. Yet Mar turned his back on me. He betrayed me, not only with Eilonwy, but with every filthy mortal wench he bedded in this dreadful place.”

Fiacail had heard the tale only once before, when Derdrui had found her and the other Cait Sith in the lowlands. She had shown them pity by gathering them and revealing what they were, and how they had been abandoned in the mortal realm by their Fae sire. She had then privileged them by recounting her tragic love affair with Mar, which had driven her to seek vengeance. They had all understood her pain.

“For such his sons shall die at your hands, my sovereign.” She didn’t wish to further anger the princess, so she added, “I’m happy to keep watch as we return to the mainland, if you wish rest.”

“I rested long enough in the king’s prison.” The enchantress’s eyes shifted to the spell trace trail. “My vengeance shall only be complete when the last of Mar’s half-mortal sons dies squirming on my claws. Lead me to them, Fiacail, and I shall see to it that you and your sisters want for nothing ever again.”

Chapter Nineteen

Nyall knew the moment he walked into the great hall to have the morning meal that the laird had discovered their guest missing. Instead of eating, Connal stood with all of his chieftains, gestured at a map and issuing orders. More clansmen watched from behind them, their expressions grim. Maids and menservants hovered anxiously on the fringes, some standing on their toes to see what was happening, others holding platters of food they had yet to serve. No one appeared to be eating or even interested in a meal.

’Tis time for the reckoning, then.

He walked up to the dais table to see Shaw standing behind the laird. The chieftain glared at him, shaking his head as if to warn him to remain silent. Fletcher also gave him a direct look that indicated his ire. Duncan, Nyall assumed, had warned them that he’d gone to Valerie with the druid’s message.

“She doesnae ken her way beyond the village,” the laird was saying. “Dagan, check the shepherd’s shelter in the hills there. The lady may take refuge if she’s weary.” Before the chieftain could reply he held up his hand. “If you see she sleeps, dinnae wake her. Send a patroller to fetch me.”

Nyall could say nothing, of course; that had been his plan. Allowing Connal to believe Valerie had become lost, however, seemed crueler.

“Captain, you ken the shoreline better than any other clansman,” the laird said as soon as he noticed him. “Take a patrol on horses. She couldnae go too far–”

“Mistress Baker left the island, my lord,” Nyall said, making the men around him stare and then quickly move away.

Connal straightened and peered at him. “What? How?”

“By boat, my lord. The lady journeys to meet with the druids.” Duncan appeared at his side. “She’s gone in the hope they may return her to her time.”

The laird’s eyes narrowed. “You two flouted my orders?”

“No’ one of the clan gave Mistress Baker aid, nor arranged for the boat. That I may vow to you.” Fletcher went over to stand with Nyall and the healer. “Tell him what you did for the lady, Captain.”

“I translated the message from the druids for Mistress Baker, and asked Jamaran meet with her.” As Connal came around the table, followed closely by Shaw, he stood his ground. “I dinnae ken the nature of their arrangements, but he likely took her by ghost boat to Aberdeen last night.”

The laird took hold of his tunic. “You dared defy me?”

“Now, Brother, calm yourself,” Shaw said as he tried to get between them. “’Tis done and she’s gone.” He staggered backward as Connal punched him in the jaw, and then his eyes darkened. “She didnae want you, you over-proud dolt.”

“She wanted me all of a night and again, you eejit.” After shouting that the laird lunged at him, and the two men went down fighting.

“Dinnae break any bones,” Duncan warned as he saw Shaw grab Connal’s arm and twist it as they rolled back and forth. “For I’ll no’ set them again.”