An Immortal Descent (35 page)

Julian nodded, his expression growing solemn. “Much to my sorrow, for once she arrived home, I had a difficult choice to make.”

Arrived home...
So the wretch had made it to the oak grove, yet Nora could be anywhere between here and London. “Where is Deri keeping her?” I demanded.

Julian gave me a curious look, then answered my question with one of his own. “How long have you known Nora Goodwin?”

My hands curled and uncurled at my side. “All my life.”

“Yet you never once suspected her ancestry.” He tsked his tongue at me. “Deri discovered it the first time she dabbled in your friend’s brain. At the time my sister thought to compel Nora to gut you while you slept, but then she found Nuada’s blood and that changed everything. Even for your death, she wouldn’t risk someone so important to the hangman’s noose.”

Cold sweat formed on my nape while he spoke. “Where is Nora then? You’ve told so many lies how do I know you’re speaking the truth now?”

He chuckled, and a drop of sweat rolled between my shoulder blades. “It’s true, and in less than a fortnight my sister scooped two fish in the same net. She only had to bait his lordship by stealing Nora away. Then the chase was on to the dolmen.”

Henry growled a curse.

Julian turned to him, pleasure brimming in his dark eyes. “You played your role just like Deri planned. Except things have changed, and you won’t be bedding my mother after all.”

Derision dripped from Henry’s deep voice. “You assume I would have been tempted by the witch.”

“Most assuredly, my lord.” Julian moved his head forward, pressing his chin into Marin’s temple. The torches flickered as the lines of his face wavered once more. A heartbeat passed when a woman appeared, her otherworldly beauty reminding me of Brigid, except for the cruelty that lined her mouth. Waves of black hair fell over Marin’s shoulder. “The curse may have dampened her powers,” he said in a feminine voice that ran like silk over my skin, “but she still had enough to get your seed between her legs.”

I cringed from the vivid description, and instinctively cut a look to Henry. His expression remained impassive at the demonstration.

Green light sputtered a warning a split second before Carmen’s face twisted back to the son. “Can you understand my dilemma?” he asked. “Once me sister returned with not one, but two descendants, I had to kill my mother to save Ireland.”

Two descendants...
I swung from left to right. “Where is she? Where are you hiding her?” I turned a full circle, but could see nothing beyond the reach of the torchlight. “Nora!” I called out, my voice near frantic with worry.

Her name echoed unanswered across the stones.

“All in good time, Selah.”

Henry rolled his shoulders. “If Ireland is safe from the witch, why lure us here and attack Sean and Marin?”

“Because he’s claimed the spoils of death from her as well.” Cate now stood two feet ahead of me. “He stole her power with her last breath.”

“Aye,” Julian agreed. “Though Carmen called it soul gathering. From her stories, she excelled at it while living in the mortal world.”

“Little wonder it took four Tuatha Dé to defeat her,” Tom said with new understanding. “They were fighting a whole army in her belly. And now you wish to break the curse to use what she gathered.”

Julian sneered at the corpse. “Her death should have done it, but most of her power falls from me whenever I leave the passageway.” He looked at Cate. “Now you know what you felt, my lady, the wee scraps that slip past the weakening curse. It clings to my skin till I leave the woods, though it’s strongest in the oak grove.”

“Which you used to get rid of those men,” Cate said.

Julian nodded and tapped his forehead. “Lovely how you put that together. I entered the grove ahead of them to get the power I needed for a simple illusion. The men continued on the trail, believing they were following behind us.”

Tom raised his sword tip a little higher. “Except that King Bres set the curse to guard against her power instead of her life, so you’ve not got the full of it, have you lad.”

A dark mirthless laugh came from Julian. His gaze dipped to Tom’s sword. “You best tame your intentions, as my power is still ten times more than all of you put together while we’re in the passageway.”

“Release Marin,” Tom said, “and we’ll give it a go.” Flint edged his voice, and he adjusted his grip on the sword hilt.

Julian clucked his tongue as though reprimanding a child. “I’ve not come this far to be goaded into a fight.”

“Then I fear we’ve come to a standstill.”

“Don’t count on it.” Julian waved his hand, and green fire sprang to life all around us.

I twisted from left to right to find a score of torches mounted around the cavern. The space was much bigger than I expected, measuring the size of a small circular ballroom. Half a dozen archways led deeper into the hillside.

Julian remained motionless for a moment, his neck coiled like a snake about to strike. Then, raising his free hand, he cupped his mouth and his voice rang through the cavern. “Oh, Deri...”

Chapter Twenty-One

The Descendants

The name slithered over me, each drawn out syllable passing like smooth scales over my skin.

“Deri...” Julian called again, with a hint of singsong in his raised voice. “Please join us, sister. Some old friends have come to visit.” His gaze rested over my shoulder. I spun around and stared at the specific archway that fell in his line of sight, my blood racing with anticipation.

“The space is much larger than I imagined,” Cate said in the same conversational tone.

“Aye, Carmen retained sufficient power to make her prison more comfortable.”

“Is that how you controlled the torches?”

Julian clucked his tongue. “For shame, my lady, sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. Well, I’ll not explain what I can and cannot do, so keep your questions to yourself. Do you understand?”

“Pray forgive me, I was just intrigued by how you needed contact with Marin and Sean, yet could summon the torches to life by a mere wave of your—”

“Silence!” Julian roared. “Another word and the lass will be bleeding from her ears.”

Cate said nothing more. I kept my eyes pinned to the archway, desperate for any sight or sound to indicate life.

“Deri!” Julian called a third time, though without the previous singsong. “Stop hiding, you little brat, before I come and get you.”

The threat had the desired effect, bringing the first stirrings of life just out of sight.

I strained my ear toward the sound. A moment later, shadows spilled into the cavern. They lengthened, and the stirrings turned to the soft patter of footsteps that echoed across the stone. The next few seconds stretched beyond their natural duration as I stared so hard my eyes ached from the effort.

Two figures appeared beneath the archway, one a good head taller than the other, and I pressed a hand to my chest to help counter the sudden swell that threatened to crack my sternum. Nora was alive, and after six days and hundreds of miles, only a dozen strides stood between us.

As she drew nearer I scoured her for answers, taking in the neat dark hair and somber expression. Her neck and back retained the customary straightness, her head level, and her eyes...

Warmth and familiarity met me, and I clasped my hands together in quiet supplication. “Thank you, Lord...” I whispered.

“Still alive, eh, Biddie girl,” a young voice chirruped. “Yeh’ve more luck than a stubbin cat.”

The prayer died on my lips as my gaze dipped to Deri. Frost-blue eyes met mine, equal in cruelty to the smile that twitched on her pale mouth. Revulsion clawed at my joy seeing her next to Nora, their hands linked together just like before. A simple woolen frock replaced the beggar’s rags, and a new black shawl draped her thin shoulders. The dirt smudges had been washed from her face and her white-blonde hair fell in a neat braid to one side.

Had Nora cared for her? Brushed her hair and scrubbed the grime away? Despite her unusual coloring, she could have passed as an ordinary child, if I hadn’t known of the madness that raged inside her.

“Hello, Selah,” Nora said, in a strong voice that assured me further of her sanity.

“Oh, Nora...” Her name spilled from me, and it took every bit of restraint not to rush to her.

“Stay away from me goody lady,” Deri warned. Small fingers plucked the air in my direction.

Henry’s watchful gaze rested on the wretch. No emotion showed on his face, and only the slight shift of his sword hand hinted at his intentions.

“Allow me to introduce my sister. She prefers Deri, but her given name is Crá ó Dair.”

“Torment from the oak,” Cate said. “How very droll of your mother.”

Carmen had gone from naming her children Death, Evil and Violence to Vengeance and Torment.
Droll indeed.
Two more offspring, and she could have added Insanity and Devastation to the lovely family.

“My sister’s gifts are plenty amusing,” Julian agreed. “Just ask our Nora. Poor lass has become well acquainted with all Deri can do.”

Mockery filled his eyes, peeling away any residual familiarity I had seen after his transformation.
Cold-blooded monster.
I had never hated another person more in my life than at that moment.

“Don’t be shy,” he said, beckoning to them. “Come closer.”

A catlike hiss came from Deri. Her hand retracted to a bony fist, and she hunched her shoulders, drawing into Nora’s side.

“Now!” Julian yelled, the muscles jumping in his neck from the strain.

I looked between them, uncertainty rooting my feet to the stone.

Nora made the first move. Head held high, she started forward, her gait confident. Deri’s expression tightened to a sullen sneer. She moved as well, though soon lagged half a step behind. They stopped a few strides from my side, where Deri pressed into Nora as though in search of comfort. My stomach curdled when Nora draped an arm over the wretch’s shoulder, pulling her even closer.

Nora steadied her gaze on Julian. “What do you want?”

His smirk crawled over my skin. “You know what I want, Nora Goodwin.”

She arched a defiant brow at him but made no further reply. Head down, Deri muttered a series of unintelligible words beneath her breath.

“Speak up, sister. I’ll not have you mumbling in front of our guests.”

Deri slanted a look at her brother. “I said yeh can’t have her.” Something wet glistened on her cheek. Squinting through the green light, I saw red-rimmed eyes and dried tear tracks that stained her pale face.

“Shh,” Nora soothed her.

Deri sniffed and ran a sleeve under her nose. Then, resting her wet cheek against Nora’s side, she glowered like a demon at Julian.

I blinked, a rush of understanding nearly sweeping me off my feet from what had so obviously changed between the two of them. It defied reason, yet in the past week Nora had somehow claimed a position of authority over the wretch. Everything about them verified the new undercurrents of their relationship, the way Deri angled toward Nora, how Nora held her with one arm—just like a mother comforting her child.

My heart constricted. “Nora...”

She looked at me with such complexity of emotion, I didn’t know what to think. “It’s all right, Selah.”

Deri twisted the end of her shawl in one hand as her gaze darted from side to side over the stone floor. “Took me mam. Sliced her heart, stole her life.” The words tumbled out, frantic and slurred. “He’ll not get the goody lady. Little Deri won’t let him.”

Julian heaved a breath. “Stop your fussing, lass. Ladies will be fighting to be your mam once they know you’re the sister of their king.”

King...
I jerked my head toward Julian. Was that his plan?

“You’ve quite a vision,” Tom said. “Except you’ve forgotten that the moment Brigid learns you’ve abused her power, she’ll bar you from entering the Otherworld.”

Julian spat on the ground near Marin’s foot. “Brigid can keep her scraps of fire. Carmen’s power is more than I need to rule Ireland and run the English from our shores.”

Cate eyed him. “So the son becomes the witch.”

“I’ll be their king,” Julian ground out. “The best they’ve ever known.”

“Yet you need the birth blood of Lugh and Nuada first.” Cate appeared thoughtful. “I suppose Lord Fitzalan and Nora Goodwin could create a child, but nine months is an awfully long time to keep us all here.”

Julian laughed. “Birth blood may be the strongest, but death blood will do just as well for my purposes.”

Death blood...
Ice seeped through my veins. “Nora and Henry,” I whispered.

“Aye, my love,” Julian said, turning to me. “And our grandparents too since there’s no use trying to change their minds after so many years of following Brigid’s rules.” He flipped a derisive hand at them. “They’re nothing more than lapdogs, doing the goddess’s biding while Ireland suffers.”

I stared at him, unable to speak, barely able to breathe.

“Don’t fret, lass, I’ve no intention to let you share their fate. Not after the assurances you gave me in Brigid’s garden.” His gaze grew more intense until it pricked at the back of my skull. “Once I’m king, Selah, you’re to be my queen.”

A low growl came from Henry, and he lifted his sword to waist level. “Touch her, Stroud, and you’ll regret it.”

“Ever the brave warrior, my lord. I say we let Selah decide and save ourselves from a pointless squabble.” Julian smirked at him. “Unless you’re afraid she’ll choose me.”

“She’s already made her choice.” Henry’s expression remained calm, though I sensed a well of lethal rage just below the surface. “Yet you persist in pursuing her like a lovelorn pup. Twice now she has begged me to spare your life. Upon my honor, there will not be a third time.”

Red splotches blossomed on Julian’s cheeks. “Your threats are meaningless.”

The warrior gleamed in Henry’s eyes. “Believe what you will, but let me assure you, only one of us will leave this cavern alive tonight.” He raised the sword another inch.

Julian shifted his attention to the glistening steel edge. Without speaking, he raised one hand and then slowly lowered it.

Henry’s sword moved in accordance. “What the deuce!” he cursed. His arms shook with the effort to keep the tip off the stone floor.

“Concede, Fitzalan. You’ve no hope of defeating me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Henry gritted between clenched teeth. “Where did you learn to fight? Behind your mother’s skirts, I’ll wager.”

Sweat glistened on Julian’s brow from the struggle. “Brigid may take your gift of fire, Selah,” he said without removing his eyes from the sword, “but as you can see, Carmen taught me how to gain the power I need.”

I watched as Henry continued to fight an invisible force, his fingers white from the effort. He would never give up, never concede regardless of the odds.
A whole army in her belly.

“Soul gathering...” The words fell numbly from my lips.

“That and more.” Julian returned his attention to me, and at that instant Henry’s sword flew upward as though released from some tremendous weight. “We were made for each other, Selah. Our powers are equally matched and neither of us are afraid to use it to get what we want.”

“Close your mouth, Stroud,” Henry ordered. “She’ll have naught to do with you.”

I met Julian’s gaze and found the devil staring back. A hot breath blew over the embers in my soul. Flames of pure hatred rose up, nipping at my ribs. I stared at the man who would take everything from me: Henry, Nora, Cate and Tom. Even my very soul by having me barred from the Otherworld. I clamped my teeth till they ached to keep from screaming.

“Deri,” Julian snapped. “It’s time we get started. Bring Nora to the throne and cut her open. I’ll have every drop of blood on the stones.”

“Won’t do it,” Deri growled. “Won’t kill the goody lady.”

“Oh, you’ll do it, sister—”

Time slowed to a crawl as I glanced around. My brother remained frozen, but well out of harm’s way. Marin stood rigid against Julian, anger burning the fear from her skin. Tom and Henry studied each other, silently plotting an attack that could end in one or both of their deaths. Cate’s face was hidden from me as she now stood almost three feet forward, having inched her way across a third of the distance between her and Julian. A little more and she might be able to fly at him, and quite possibly die as well.

To my side, Deri continued to twist the hem of her shawl. Nora remained stolid in the face of imminent death, a picture of grace and courage. Ailish stood quiet as a mouse, watching and waiting. Julian hadn’t mentioned her in his grand scheme, so she could well stay out of the way and leave the cavern unscathed—until he became king, and ruled Ireland with an iron fist, unyielding and merciless, for there would be no other way when his power sprang from a corrupted spring.

Her gaze met mine, and from the quiet resolve in her eyes, she had no intention of skulking into the shadows to wait out the ensuing carnage. She raised a brow in a question that seemed to ask if I trusted her.

I did, and I knew she would trust me in turn.

My face was a blank mask when I turned back to Julian.

“I said now!” he bellowed at Deri. A vein bulged at his temple. “Or your
goody lady
will suffer a slow and painful death.”

Agitated, Deri snatched at the air. “Won’t do it. Won’t do it—”

Setting my shoulders, I moved forward a step. “I accept your offer,” I said, each word crisp and clear.

Henry whipped his head toward me. “Selah...”

I refused to look at him. “I’ve never understood why Brigid keeps us in servitude when we are capable of so much more. She suppresses our abilities, and Ireland suffers for it.”

A flicker of hope lit Julian’s face. “What of Lord Fitzalan and Nora? Are you ready to see them sacrificed to break Brigid’s chains?”

“One or two lives are inconsequential when weighed against the greater good.” I swallowed the bitterness left behind from the lies.

Henry watched me, the weight of his eyes searching my face as he took in each word.

“I’ll get yeh, biddie girl,” Deri hissed, and a chill scraped over my back.

Julian’s nostrils flared over a self-satisfied grin. “Leave her be, sister, for she’s more sense than you.” His smile thinned, then, in a flash, he thrust a finger at Cate, bringing a yelp from Marin. “Move one step closer, my lady, and I’ll force Master Faber to gut you with his sword.”

Cate froze. Tom dropped the sword and knife as though they had suddenly scorched him. “Your command doesn’t extend to the living, not without direct contact.”

“Well done, blacksmith, but played that way, I’ll be the only one holding a weapon.” He turned to Cate and nodded toward one of the archways. “Let’s do this peaceably with the two of you walking from the cavern together, body and soul, into the Otherworld.”

“You mean pass to our death.” Cate laughed at the notion. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather stay and fight.”

Julian dipped a sardonic bow. “As you wish, my lady.” He lowered his gaze to the blade at Tom’s feet. The torches flickered as it wobbled and turned toward Cate, scraping over the ground when Tom stomped a massive boot on top of it. The tactic seemed to work at first until the blade began to squirm free.