Page 25 of Duncan

His brows rose. “You’ve trouble with Duncan?”

“Frankly, Captain, I’m sick of everyone and everything.” She was also close to shouting, so she turned and jerked open the door.

Nyall didn’t follow her inside, but stood in the doorway watching her as she went over to add some wood to the hearth. “How may I help, Mistress?”

She glanced at him, sure he was joking. “You expect me to believe that you actually want to?”

He leaned against the jamb and folded his arms. “My wife, she’s vouched for you. I trust her judgment above all others, even my own kin.”

“It was nice of Caroline to do that.” Suddenly exhausted, she sat down by the hearth and propped her head in her hands. “Captain, I have to get off this island as soon as possible. If you know of some way to return me to my time, I will be eternally grateful.”

“I shall speak with the laird and ask him send you to the mainland as soon as our ferryman may take you,” Nyall promised. “The MacMar dinnae make use of the unwilling. ’Tis been a long-standing rule that any mortal who wishes leave Caladh may go. I reckon our allies among the magic folk may permit you use one of their time portals to return to your time.”

That was what Lark had meant when she’d mentioned the druids on the mainland possibly being of help, Nicole thought. Why hadn’t Duncan mentioned anything about this?

Because he doesn’t want me to leave.

“Please do,” Nicole said, “and thank you, Captain.”

WALKING down the ramp of the mortal’s leaky, moldy vessel to step onto the island of pigs allowed Derdrui to relax for the first time since they had set sail. She despised the seas of the mortal realm with all of her being, and yet she would not lower herself to show even the slightest hint of emotion in front of these pitiful creatures. Here she walked as a queen among slaves, a conqueror among the cowering. All of her power seethed inside her now as she surveyed the grubby dockside town. From the scorched, collapsed condition of many of the structures, part of the place had burned to the ground during her absence. Even now some of the Cait Sith hurried about with buckets of sand, dousing the hovels still smoldering.

She had not bothered to put the squat, ugly buildings to the torch before they had sailed for the mainland. Perhaps lightning had tried to cleanse the place in her honor.

“Bring me a strong male,” she said as she started toward the inn where she had left the corpses of the raiders that had so amused her during her previous stay.

The waddling shadow of the ungainly halfling following her stopped beside her own svelte darkness.

“Forgive me, my sovereign,” the pathetic bitch said, “but I fear during your last visit you butchered all of the mortals here, as well as the Viking that came raiding.”

Derdrui clenched her teeth to hold back a flaying spell that would strip Speal of every inch of her skin. Once her sorely-strained patience returned, she said, “Then send your sisters to take one from another island. Tell them to bring another dozen as well for the week ahead.”

“All the mortals on the surrounding islands have fled to the mainland, Princess,” another, sweeter voice said.

She glanced over her shoulder at the small shifter that had been taken and transformed by the aquatic immortal. “Did you drive them away, Runt?”

Dearg bowed and then smiled at her, showing a mouthful of shark’s teeth. “No, Princess. We took a few for our master, so he might change them, but the vanishings frightened the others, and they fled.”

“You dare deprive me of my entertainment?” The sound of her voice bounced off the walls of the remaining structures. “Shall you serve in their place?”

“I didnae wish offend you, Princess.” The little monstrosity cowered, but not before giving the fat one beside her a sly look. “Forgive me, I beg you.”

She drew herself up, annoyed that she had permitted the creature to provoke her. “Go back to your master, and bid him deliver as many mortals as he took and changed.” As the small shifter hurried off, she regarded Speal. “I’ve warned you of what shall happen if I grow too bored.”

“Aye, and I’ve seen what becomes of you after you glut yourself on too many mortals.” The shifter planted her plump fists on her broad hips. “We cannae permit you become pished again, my sovereign. I fear you must suffer a few hours of deprivation.”

Derdrui nearly blasted the fat, insolent slut with a spell to burn off her gloating face, but her magic had not always proven equal to her desires here in the mortal realm. With Fiacail serving Duxor, and the remaining Cait Sith turned against her, she could not afford to lose her last ally among them—even if she was almost as unwilling as the others.

“Bring me something I can torment,” she said. “Anything that breathes and fears pain.”

Speal bowed, and trudged off. That left her to make her way into the inn alone, which aggravated her, but a simple flick of her fingers burst open the doors and tossed aside anything that lay in her path. It seemed she had not grown as weak as she’d assumed. She had to climb stairs to reach the chamber she had formerly occupied, and the familiar, comforting stench of mortal dead still perfumed the air in the passages. Yet when she snapped her wrist to fling open the door, the smell of the sea struck her in her face.

Everything inside the chamber appeared dripping wet, as if a flood had swallowed the entire inn.

Derdrui’s skin shrank from the damp saltiness of the air; sea water had always been her only weakness. The Cait Sith hated it as much as she did, so they would not have done this. Dearg, the little fiend, had lost her fear and loathing of the ocean. Such an act would be in keeping with her sly nature. The sound of someone scurrying down the hall made fury rise inside her.

She would show that tiny monster what happened to those who defied and ridiculed her.

A few moments later Derdrui walked out of the inn, followed by a cloud of black smoke. Some of the Cait Sith hurried over to her, and one stared behind her as flames roared out of the inn’s windows.