Beyond the Highland Myst(759)

“There are two other Keltar Druids here, kinsman,” Drustan said stiffly. “I’m fair certain we may be of some aid.”

“You’ve no bloody idea what you’re talking about. The mirror makes Lucan immortal, unkillable by your means. You would be of no use. Or are you ready to begin tattooing yourself, kinsman?” Cian said silkily.

Drustan gave him a scornful look.

“I thought not.” The look Cian shot back at him was just as scornful. “A man does what he must. Or he’s no man.”

“What he ‘must’ is debatable. ’Twould not necessarily come to that,” Drustan replied icily.

“Och, aye, it would, you bloody fool. Leave Lucan to me. Stay out of it.”

“I cannot believe this Trevayne is so much more powerful than we.”

Cian’s smile dripped dark amusement. “Ah—and there’s the vaunted Keltar ego! I wondered when I’d see it. I made the same mistake. Believed I was so much more powerful. And I was. Yet here I am. And I didn’t see it coming. I will deal with Lucan. You’ve but to grant us sanctuary here until the Feast of All Saints. I will need to lay additional wards when next I am free. Permit that. ’Tis all I ask.”

Dageus had remained silent while his brother and Cian argued. But now he cocked his head, his golden eyes shimmering strangely. “Now I understand,” he said. “So that’s why you plan to do it. It made no sense to me. Especially after last eve.”

Was it her imagination, or had Cian suddenly gone tense? Jessi eyed him intently.

Her Highland lover’s shrug seemed a bit overdone when he said, “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Aye, you do.”

“You can’t deep-listen to me, not with my guards up, and I’ve not let them down since we met. You’re good, but you’re not that good.”

“Yet. And I doona need to be. I understand this tithing business.”

“Mayhap the knowledge you acquired from those evil Draghar of yours is inaccurate, Druid,” Cian said coolly. “I’m sure even they made the occasional error.”

“Nay,” Dageus said just as coolly. “This I learned from our tomes in the underground chamber while searching for a way to be rid of the thirteen. And I know you’ve read them too.”

“What?” Jessi said, staring from one to the other, sensing the deadly undertow in the ocean of things they weren’t saying. “What are you two talking about?”

“Doona do it, kinsman,” Cian said abruptly, low and intense. “Leave it. Man to man.”

“Nay, ’tis too big a thing to continue speaking around. She has the right to know.”

“ ’Tis not your decision to make.”

“I wouldn’t have to make it if you hadn’t made the wrong one by not telling her.”

“ ‘Not telling her’ what?” Jessi demanded.

” ’Tis naught of your concern. Stay the bloody hell out of it,” Cian snarled at Dageus.

“Nay. Not after what transpired between the two of you last eve. She has a right to know. Either you tell her, or I will. ’Tis the only mercy I’ll grant.”

“Cian?” Jessi implored questioningly.

He gazed at her a long silent moment. A muscle in his jaw leapt. He turned abruptly in the mirror.

And disappeared into the silver. It rippled behind him and went flat.

Jessi stared at the looking glass in disbelief. What could be so terrible that, after the incredible intimacy they’d just shared, he would turn his back on her and walk away?

“What’s going on?” She turned a plaintive gaze on Dageus. There was a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach, and she knew, just knew, she was about to hear something that was going to make her wish she’d cut her ears off instead.

When Jessi heard Cian murmur a short chant, she knew what was coming and a cry of alarm escaped her. The jeweled blade that had slain the room-service assassin whipped out of the glass and lodged in a wall—behind and a hairsbreadth to the left of Dageus’s temple.

“Doona answer her, you bastard,” came the savage growl from the silvery glass.

“Harm any of mine and I’ll break your blethering mirror,” Drustan said very, very quietly. “Were I not certain you missed deliberately, I’d have done it already.”

Another savage sound rumbled within the mirror, rattling the glass in its frame.

“What?” Jessi repeated weakly. “Tell me what?”

Dageus sighed, his chiseled features grim. “All Tuatha Dé bindings, lass—whether Seelie compacts or Unseelie indentures—must be periodically reaffirmed by gold. The Keltar Compact, for example, was forged in purest gold, and need only be reaffirmed if something within it is changed, or if ’tis violated by a party to the agreement. But Dark Arts run counter to the nature of things and require higher and more frequent tithes. As Cian said, the Dark Glass must be paid every one hundred years, on the anniversary of the original date of binding, at midnight.”