Beyond the Highland Myst(776)

As she’d gaped up at him, half expecting to be dragged off to some medieval dungeon for punishment, he’d further shocked her by saying, How bad do you want him to live, lass?

Figuring she had nothing left to lose at that point, she’d told him, in no uncertain terms. I’d do anything. Even make him hate me.

He won’t hate you, lass, Dageus had assured her. If aught, he’ll hate me.

She was counting on that. Not that he would hate Dageus, but that he would eventually forgive her for helping his enemy pass the tithe through to keep him alive.

I thought you said you didn’t know of any way to free him. Why would you do this?

Why would you? he’d countered.

Because I believe there has to be a way to get him out of there, that we just need a little more time to find it.

I believe there’s a way to get him out of there, too, lass, he’d replied after a brief pause.

Really? Her heart had soared at those words.

It was one thing for her to believe it; she was desperate enough to cling to any hope and she knew it. But if a Keltar Druid believed it, it was more than just possible, it was probable. No, it was an eventual certainty. There was no way Dageus and Drustan would run the risk of Trevayne ever getting the Dark Book, which meant they had to be convinced they could ultimately free Cian, and reasonably quickly after the tithe was paid.

It had been nearly impossible to conceal her change in spirits from Cian. Especially today—on what he’d thought was their last day together—but she’d managed. Dageus had been insistent she discuss their plans with no one, even going so far as to say he wouldn’t help her at all if she failed to convince Cian that she believed tonight was his last night alive. He believes ’tis the only way, lass, Dageus had warned, I fear he will become difficult if he suspects we plan to stop him.

Though acting the part had nearly killed her—thank God, she’d not had to actually live it!—she’d been convincing, unwilling to jeopardize her only chance to save him.

E-mail Trevayne, Dageus had instructed her that night. Tell him you’ll help him get in the castle to pass the tithe through. But the Keltar keep the mirror.

She’d done it. At first Trevayne had refused, offering myriad alternatives, all of which she’d rejected at Dageus’s behest.

But late last night, twenty-four hours from the zero-hour to the minute, Trevayne had finally agreed.

And now—Jessi paused at the back door, inhaling sharply—he was here. Making her skin crawl. She could feel him through the wood of the door, cold, dark, rotten, and much, much too close for comfort.

And about to get closer.

He’d accepted her deal only when she’d pledged herself as his hostage.

You must let me use you to get in and out of the castle.

Eyes wide, she’d stared up at Dageus. Nostrils flaring, he’d shaken his head curtly. But the dark sorcerer had refused to come onto Keltar-warded land any other way, and Dageus had finally nodded.

How do I know this isn’t a trap? Trevayne had typed.

How do I? she’d countered.

There’d not been much to say after that. It had been the bottom line, really. They were both risking all. And they knew it.

She glanced at her watch.

It was eighteen minutes to midnight.

Dageus had been adamant they give Trevayne barely enough time to get to the mirror and pass the tithe through. I doona want him to have a single moment with you during which he doesn’t have to keep moving. Once it’s over, I’ll show myself and we’ll get him out of the castle.

It was now or never.

She braced herself for Trevayne’s hideous appearance.

Whatever happened from this moment forth, she would betray no fear, no weakness. She was Jessica MacKeltar, wife of Cian, and she would do him proud.

The bastard she was about to let in Castle Keltar had held her husband imprisoned for eleven hundred and thirty-three years and, though she’d never thought herself a violent person, she’d plunge her concealed dagger into Trevayne’s heart in an instant if she thought she had a snowball’s chance in hell of killing him.

She slid the deadbolt back and turned the doorknob.

“Lucan,” she said coolly, inclining her head.

“Good evening, Jessica,” Trevayne replied with a cordial smile. Sort of.

When he took her arm, Jessi barely suppressed her revulsion.



Dageus stood in the shadows of the corridor off the balustrade that overlooked the great hall, listening intently. Upon leaving Jessica, he’d loped up the back stairs, taking turn after turn, wending a circuitous route to his current position, all to avoid passing Cian’s mirror.

His brother, Gwen, and Chloe were safely ensconced in a chamber two corridors down. Until a few hours ago, he’d had to conceal his plans from even them so none could inadvertently betray it to Cian by thinking about it in their powerful ancestor’s presence.