Page 109 of Blood & Claw

Darach’s body spasmed under her, but she placed her other hand on his hip, pressing down gently. Reassuring yet firm. “You must stay still. I don’t want to make any mistakes.”

He ground out an oath, but he heeded her.

Ailsa worked slowly, methodically. There was no rushing this. The light of the fire wasn’t ideal to work by, but she did her best.

And with each cut, Darach’s muscles locked under her hand. A breath hissed between his teeth and sweat beaded on his forehead, but he didn’t move.

And despite everything, she found herself enjoying the work.

It was a thrill, in many ways, to work like this without Kayla watching over her.

In all the years she had worked alongside her mentor, she’d never once let her work unobserved. It was as if she’d never fully trusted her apprentice not to make a mistake—as if she were looking out for something.

Waiting for Ailsa to fail her.

At the time, she’d told herself Kayla just liked to be in control, but now, she couldn’t help but suspect there had been another motivation at play.

The knowledge that there was something wrong with the lass she’d brought up as her own.

Swallowing, Ailsa shoved the thoughts aside.

She needed to keep her mind wholly on her task.

And so, she began to repeat the words of the sain—the binding chant. It had a lulling effect on Darach, too, for despite each cut, each prick, stinging, his body slowly relaxed beneath the weight of her hand.

As time stretched out, a slender band of thorns formed around the tattoo. It was a circle of protection, one that people often asked for if they feared faerie creatures or malevolent spirits.

Years earlier, during those dark times when spirits had hunted freely at night—breaking into people’s homes and stealing away children—many folk had turned up at Kayla’s door requesting such tattoos. Usually, Kayla would do an encircling ring around someone’s ankle, wrist, or bicep.

But this tattoo was different.

It contained magic, and it caged the clag-doo.

Sweat beaded on Darach’s forehead as Ailsa worked. He lay there, still and silent, staring into the dancing flames. He didn’t utter a word. He didn’t move.

Once the final cut had been made, Ailsa reached for her pestle and mortar, dipped a brush in, and began to push the dye into the incisions. She’d finished her sain now, the circle complete. But the dye was necessary; it would keep the magic in place.

The tattoo on her calf still pulsed.

“I feel different,” Darach spoke up then, his voice rough with pain.

“How?” she asked, pressing the stiff-bristled brush into the bracelet of thorns she had designed.

“Calmer.” He paused then as if searching for the right words. “Earlier, I could feel it clawing at me, mewling in my ears. But now … it’s gone quiet.”

Ailsa pulled a face. “I suppose that’s better.”

Silence fell once more as she continued to push dye into the cuts. Inch by inch, a delicate circle of entwined thorns emerged. “Kayla might know a way to banish the beast permanently,” she said finally. “But this circle will allow you to become its master … for the moment.”

He stiffened. “So, I really will be able to stop it from emerging?”

“That’s what I’m hoping.” She stopped speaking then, focusing instead on pushing the dye into the last swirl. Finally, she sat back on her heels and observed her handiwork. “It’s done.”

In truth, it was hard not to be proud. The design was beautiful, delicate yet unbroken. She’d been careful not to leave any gaps in it anywhere. The snarling clag-doo, whose eyes had glowed red in the firelight, was now caged.

After everything that had happened of late, it felt good to have achieved something tangible. It pulled her thoughts momentarily away from worries for Kayla—and from herself. For a few precious moments, she forgot the fear that one morning she’d wake and discover she wasn’t herself anymore.

Rising to her feet, she moved across to where a burn trickled over rocks and scrubbed her hands clean, using a clump of moss to wash away the blue woad staining her skin. A faint bluish tinge remained. Woad was hard to get rid of.