I took another small step toward the door, touching the doorknob behind my back. I wanted to get out as soon as possible if all hell were about to break loose. And it was pretty clear that was going to happen. Sean looked like a wild animal ready to attack Nathaira at any moment. Only Alasdair seemed to keep his calm reserve.
He came back to the original topic, without paying any attention to the McLeans. “If you are Vanora’s daughter, then you must know how the curse can be lifted, right?”
“No,” Vanora snapped. “And I have no intention of lifting the curse, anyway. I want everything to stay the way it is.”
“So you wish, just like me, for that mountain of feelings that is crushing you to go away again?” he asked. “That everything could be the way it was a few weeks ago?”
Nathaira’s eyes suddenly met mine, and the hair at the back of my neck stood on end. The world started to spin around me. Everything seemed to be taking place in slow motion. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but I recognized the glowing hatred in her green eyes. She raised her dagger. As if from a distance, the men’s cries made their way to my ears. Gaelic mixed together with Payton’s screams.
I hurled myself against the door, turned the doorknob, tripped backward over the doormat, and tumbled onto the stairwell. Payton threw himself in Nathaira’s way, but she dug her blade into his upper arm and pushed him aside.
She was so close. My limbs felt like they were made of lead. I wanted to run, but I couldn’t. I held my breath, steeling myself for the wound she would inflict. The pendant burned my skin, hotter than ever. Nathaira raised her dagger, the polished metal gleaming—and stabbed.
Payton grabbed the witch by her hair and tore her back. Her blade missed its destination, cutting my hand instead. Payton wrestled her away from me, but before he could overpower her entirely, she distorted her mouth to produce a joyless laugh and shoved me against the railing.
Her strength knocked the wind out of me, the metal cut into my hips, and I lost my balance. Wildly, I flapped my arms, trying to get a grip somewhere, and toppled over the edge.
The fall!
The memory flooded me:
“Vanora? But what do you want from me? What’s going on? I’m scared!”
Her hand was resting on my head, as if she were blessing me.
“Face your destiny. Remember those you are a descendant of. Fear not. But beware of the fall.”
This was it, then, I thought. The moment of death. The fourth floor of a cheap motel. Time was relative. I took in everything around me. High up in the sky, a plane was leaving a white trail; way down below, police cars were pulling into the driveway of the motel.
A shrill, bloodcurdling warrior’s yell pierced my consciousness. It sounded awful, but it made my heart sing. Like a steel claw, Payton’s fingers dug into my arm. A hoarse wail left my throat as something inside me tore, and my shoulder made a loud grating sound. The pain made it almost impossible for me to see. But the film of my fate continued to roll. Nobody could press the pause button.
The desperation in Payton’s eyes was terrible to behold. His jaw muscles stood out from strain of keeping me in his iron grip. Warm blood swelled out of the cut in my hand, drawing a red pattern on Payton’s fingers. I knew there was no way he could hold me much longer. Inch by inch, I sank farther and farther, slipping out of his grasp.
Sean pushed Nathaira to one side, but his knife clattered out of his hand, and he couldn’t stop her from coming at us again. Like living snakes, her hair wound itself around her thin body as she dove toward my arm. Twisting violently onto his side, Payton steered his own body into the dagger’s path. He jerked in pain as Nathaira drove the blade into his flesh.
Suddenly, black clouds drew up, darkening the day. Lightning bolts struck across the sky, and the wind whirled sand and dust through the air. The police car’s light seemed spooky in the sinister twilight. My earlier conversation with Payton thrust itself into my head:
“What can I do to make you trust me again, Sam? I love you and will defend you with my life.”
“I don’t think I will ever be able to trust you. It’s too late for that.”
How could I have doubted him?
Vanora’s face became visible as a ghostly apparition in the sky. Everyone froze, their eyes on her. Like the penetrating sound of the bagpipes across a loch, each of Vanora’s words reached my innermost soul, melted with my blood, and penetrated my heart:
“The power of a curse may never change, but should fate intervene and the destiny be fulfilled, then all powers of nature can combine and free the damned hearts once more. This sacrifice of love and the act of forgiveness are the keys. The devils in your hearts have disappeared and their evil poison no longer is in your blood.