Enchanted Moon (Moon Magick Book II) (25 page)

“You’ll have to kill me first.” If they killed him,
they’d lose the missing element needed to rejoin the two worlds. Quinlan
glanced past his shoulder. The cliff wasna so far away. A furlong at best.
Given the chance to run, he could leap it. Aye, it would most likely be the end
of his days. But it removed their power.

His gaze took in the three men. Niall distracted by
pain but intent on coercing him. Jamison fairly gnashing his teeth in
anticipation of forcing Quinlan’s compliance. Daniel aging by degrees watching
him, widening his eyes then looking down at the staff in his hand.

The key.

Ah, thank Brigit and Christ himself. Daniel wasna
among their lot at all. Instinctively, Quinlan went for his blade. It wasna
there. He’d left it for Ailyn near the mouth of the cave. She likely couldna
even wield the heavy steel but he’d thought it better to leave behind, giving
her some protection, than to attempt the cliffs with it.

Ailyn would do well enough without it, though. She
might not yet know her own power, but he trusted she would when the time came.
That time might come sooner than he could control, though. The sky was
darkening with signs of a storm. The air shifted, the power in it tingling his
skin.

“If you take us to her, I promise you’ll both live,
Quinlan. What better wish could I possibly grant you than to live the rest of
your days at your love’s side?” Niall asked.

Did his king realize forcing him would not work?
Quinlan retreated another step fully anticipating Jamison to pounce. “You dinna
ken the power you mean to test, Niall. It canno’ save Una.” The lie was the
best he could give. “The power Ailyn can conjure with the bloodstone doesna
mend. It destroys. It will destroy both races. Una, you, me included.”

Niall laughed hollowly. “Nay, lad. Love unlocks the
power. Love will heal Una. What remains after will be a new world we will all
bravely face. Together.”

The frustrating thing was how compelling Niall’s logic
was. Much could be said of the power of love. To heal. To give life. And in the
wrong hands, to end kingdoms and inspire wars. The smallest shake of Daniel’s
head quieted whatever small doubts Niall’s words conjured, though.

If Niall’s aspirations were truly so noble, he’d not
resort to betrayal and murder to attain them.

Daniel’s short gesture holding the staff told Quinlan
that he was trying to get the key to him. Brilliant, except Quinlan hadn’t a
clue what to do with the thing if he was able to obtain it.

He felt opportunity press upon him. Either leap to his
death or fight to his death.

Daniel decided for him. Drawing the wood to the
darkened sky, he shouted. “An
aimsir
láithreach
.
Osclaím
!”

Niall drew his sword, Kristoph’s blood sticky dark
azure still coating the sharp steel. “What are ye about, Danny?” he asked, his
tone menacingly low.

Thunder crashed around them. Lightening lit the sky.
The wind howled, the energy in it swirling, expanding.
Open
, Daniel had commanded, much like when he’d opened the passage.
Quinlan instinctively sought out signs of a portal. His gaze searched the trees
beyond the clearing, darting back to the men. Too late. They’d seen his glance
and followed it.

They clearly understood Daniel’s intentions. Jamison
lunged for the staff. But Daniel had aged to a man’s prime and deftly
outmaneuvered him. Treating the staff as a weapon, he flipped it in his fist
and brought it down on Jamison’s shoulder. The burly man fell to his knees,
crying out in agony.

Niall lunged for Quinlan, the closer of the two.

For an older, larger man, his king moved with
conviction. Quinlan ducked the first blow but the second caught him in the
midsection. Whatever shred of deference that Quinlan might have held onto for his
liege vanished. Quinlan dropped low, kicking Niall’s legs out. As the older man
fell to the ground, Quinlan brought an elbow to his jaw.

Another man would have been knocked out cold.

Quinlan heard movement in the wood. His heart punched
against his ribs.
Ailyn
! Nay! If they
saw her, they’d never be stopped. To his left, Daniel wielded the staff against
Jamison’s blade. Somehow the man had gotten to his feet. Blood dripped from his
mouth but he attacked Daniel with a vengeance.

Quinlan moved to aid Daniel, but Niall grabbed his
ankle, slicing a blade across his outer thigh. White hot pain seared up his
body. Quinlan fell to the ground, blocking Niall’s arm then catching his wrist.
He wrestled his king for the heavy steel, his mind begging Ailyn to stay put,
wherever she was, stay put.

He managed to rid Niall of his weapon but lost its use
himself when it flung with a thud out of reach. Niall grabbed him by the
throat. Rain began to fall. Thunder crashed around them. Energy prickled in the
air. A low hum reached his ears. A low droning hum and a beating.

The rite.

Niall twisted his legs around Quinlan’s body and in an
instant had him on his back. His meaty hands circled his neck. Spittle hit his
cheeks as the older man demanded, “Do you hear it? It is time. The ceremony has
commenced. You canno’ stop the magick, Quinlan. No more than I can. Now where
is she?”

Quinlan coughed, struggling at the tight hold.

He squeezed harder. “Where?” He raised Quinlan up and
thumped him hard back onto the ground. “Where is she?”

Pinpoints of lights filled Quinlan’s darkening vision.
The rite? Memories of painted, writhing bodies filled his mind. The noise in
the wood. They could already have her. She wouldna know to stay away. He’d not
told her of her mother’s words. “You’ll have to kill me first, my lord,” he
gasped.

Glittering with madness, Niall’s eyes bore into his.
“So be it.”

He punched Quinlan’s squarely in the jaw, diving for
the far flung sword. Quinlan pushed past the throbbing pain, grabbing fistfuls
of dirt to throw in the man’s eyes. Darkness fell over them, darker than a
moonless night. Somewhere to his right he heard a gurgling yelp. He prayed it
wasna Daniel’s last breath.

A flash of lightening cut through the sky, revealing
Niall above him, sword raised. Behind him another blade glinted in the flash,
its hilt all too familiar.

Quinlan’s heart all but seized. Nay! Ailyn, nay! His
voice was lost in the pain of battle, in the terror gripping him. He couldna
watch her die. Let him die. Not her. Any among them save her.

As though the magick heard his plea and became amused,
tendrils of gold swept around them, churning with the wind. Their light exposed
Ailyn’s brave stance behind Niall. It illuminated Daniel upon the ground, his
tunic blood-soaked, his chest heaving. It brought his entire life’s misguided
efforts, wasted days and burgeoning hopes into sharp focus. If he could do
ought right, it would be this.

She would live. Her world would remain untouched, her
people safe. She would see the chance to live her days until old and gray and
be able to think fondly of him.

He would protect her.

Quinlan scrambled to his feet as Niall lowered his
sword. A grin spread over his face. “Aye, lad. Let your love for her abound.
Let it spawn the magick and heal Una. Give your people what they need. Give me
my wife back.”

Niall had not yet noticed Ailyn. Or perchance needn’t
acknowledge her.

“I failed you, lass,” Quinlan said.

Chapter Twenty-four

Ailyn’s arms shook from holding the sword. His words
tore at her. “Nay. You’ve failed no one, Quin. You’ve acted most honorably.”
The gold wisps around them muted to pinks and lavenders. The humming in the air
grew louder. The rain fell heavier, dampening her hair and clothes.

His thigh was bleeding. The large man attacking him backed
away, a thick sorrow emanating off of him. She could feel his pain. Sorrow so
deep. The kind she’d only witnessed once—in her mother. The kind that
drove men—and women—to dark desperation.

The man backed into the woods, laughing, clapping his
hands.

Ailyn lowered the sword as Quinlan rushed to her.
“You’re wounded.”

He shook his head. “We canno’ be here together, Ailyn.
Do you understand? I should have told you, lass. Your mother came to me, she
explained the elements. They dinna need Maera, lass.”

“You’re not making any sense.” She touched his face.

He pulled her hand away, looking at her palm. Violet
shimmer glowed on his cheek where she’d touched him. Giving her a push, he
stepped back from her. Ailyn winced. “What is happening?”

Quinlan looked to the trees. The glow of a bonfire
danced in the shadows. He looked toward the sea. A low groan from the two men
on the ground seemed to quicken his concern. He scowled, returning to her and
forcefully taking her hands.

“I dinna ken the enchantment of it, lass. I only know
how hard my heart beats for you. I only know that together they will use us to
destroy both our worlds. Our only chance to save either world,” he said,
swallowing. “Is to part.”

She feared his meaning. His surreptitious glances to
the sea could not mean ought else, though.

The humming became more distinct. The man emerged from
the shadows, his inky sorrow trailing behind. Then another man, bare-chested
and painted in white followed. A woman, her naked breasts bobbing in rhythm
with her steps. Quinlan pulled her back toward the cliff. She dug her heels in,
understanding what he could be asking of her—that one of them jumped.

Or both.

“I canno’ stop how I feel, lass.” The wind howled. Or
was it the spell winding around them? “I love you. As I’ve loved no other.
Larger, more deeply than I fathomed existed.”

Her heart swelled with a maelstrom of emotions. Fear.
Joy. An ache so thorough and sweet. The light around them swirled. A gasp of
appreciation emitted from the growing throng of worshippers. Quinlan frowned at
the sound, again pushing her away from him. The beating hum matched her own
pounding heart. She reached for him but he jerked his hand away as he
retreated.

Her body cringed fairly as much as her heart.

Aye, she logically followed his intentions. But logic
had no place inside magick. They were creating the spell pulsing around them.
Their emotions were driving the force that could end her world. She should be
thinking of her kingdom, of her brother. Instead she ached for him and only his
nearness seemed to soothe the pain separating created.

Seeing him there on the ground, his life in peril had
annihilated her final resolve. She loved this man. She needed him. As much as
the air in her lungs. “Quinlan, dinna reject my hand. I thought you were dead.
Nothing can be worse than that,” she pleaded. She could not live without him.
No world was worth saving without him in it. But how could she convince him not
to choose death? “Surely we are stronger together than apart. Dinna think to
face this alone.”

He paused, taking in their surroundings. The rain, the
dark, the glow. The growing number of worshippers carefully pressing toward
them, chanting. He turned toward the sea, so close now. Mere paces and one of
them could easily jump.

Or be pushed.

A woman’s screech from the sea’s direction made Ailyn
turn as well. She knew who it was before Quinlan rushed to the craggy edge and
confirmed it. “Maera,” he called

“Please come away from the edge, Quinlan.” The
desperate glow coming off of the men and women crowding closer filled her with
revulsion. There had to be another way. One that didn’t risk his life.

He shook his head. “I can reach her.”

Sharp guilt stabbed at her. So readily she would have
forsaken all just to be with the man she loved. Shame washed her face with
color. This wasna his battle. Yet he fought it with her. She joined him at the
lip of the cliff, peering down.

Maera was standing there, reaching up for them, her
fingertips just brushing Quinlan’s. The howl that rent the air also tore at her
heart. Colm’s snout showed first, then his body came into view. Patches of hair
were missing along his fur. He limped. A dark crust of blood showed on his coat
along his left shoulder.

Quinlan inched forward, grasping for Maera whose
desperate stare met Ailyn’s gaze. She looked down at Colm. Her hand pressed to
her belly. Her princess could not seem to say the words but Ailyn did not need
to hear them to know.

“You’ll be leaving them where they are.”

By now, she recognized the gravelly voice of Quinlan’s
attacker. Or perhaps she could sense the inky energy emanating off of him, so
like Kristoph’s own. Her mind split for a moment in wonder that the sorcerer
could truly be dead.

Yet she felt no safer.

The opposite.

Glancing at the man standing above him, her eyes went
to the glowing orb he held aloft. The bloodstone.

“Quinlan. Ailyn. You cannot run from fate. I swear to
ye, if you comply, ye’ll not regret it.”

Coldness entered her stomach. The sort of still chill
of knowing events were utterly beyond her control. She looked at Quinlan then
followed his frown downward to Maera. She’d stopped reaching. Instead she gone
to her knees and held Colm in her arms, stroking his fur. Far more blood than
she’d thought soaked his fur revealed itself on his stomach. Fresh, red blood.
The blood of her mother’s people. Nothing like the azure of Kristoph’s.

Nothing like Ailyn’s father’s.

Nothing like her own.

Quinlan reached his outstretched hand to her. The
expression on his face turned the cold inside her to ice. There was such pain
in his eyes. And that awful resolve. He cupped her cheek and nodded. He got up,
reaching to help her up as well. Before allowing him to, she retrieved the
pendant from her neck. Fully anticipating that someone would stop her, she
dropped it to Maera. It was all she could do. Maera caught it, looked up.
Gratitude shone in her eyes as she pressed the pendant to her chest. A green
butterfly slipped through the princesses clutching fingers, telling Ailyn all
would be well.

If she could keep these people from her brother and
his love, they would make it back home. She knew it down to her bones.

“It isna too late to stop this, Niall,” Quinlan said,
not an ounce of fear in his voice.

The sweeping hues spiraled toward Niall. The stone
held high in his fist seemed to suck the energy in. Niall’s gaze lit with mad
anticipation.

“It’s happening,” Niall stated.

He backed away, gesturing for them to follow. The
gathering circled in on them, herding them to follow Niall. Quinlan stood his
ground. He squeezed her hand.

“I canno imagine you dinna already ken it lass, but I
need to know you’ve heard the words.”

Ailyn shook her head, trying to pull her hand from
his. He yanked her to him. Her body hit his. His hands went into her hair,
holding her face so that she was forced to see him.

“I love you.”

She shut her eyes in pain. A physical pain that
coursed from her cheeks down her throat and into her heart. If she didna say
the words, the pain might take her with it. She opened her eyes. “I love you,
too, Quin.”

Aye, she did. And sure she knew that begging him to
not do it, to stay, would be useless and remiss. She had to surrender to the
force between them and know he would do what he intended. She couldna stop him
from leaping off that precipice, nor could she wish away the risk of his death
at the bottom.

“I trust you,” she said, letting the water welling in
her eyes fall free.

Niall beckoned.

“Aye?” Quinlan asked, the rain pelting his face, his
eyes never leaving hers.

“Aye.” She nodded. She did. She trusted his actions,
his decisions. He’d not yet led them astray. She surrendered their fate to him.

Quinlan backed up a step. She followed.

Another.

Two more.

“Stop them. They mean to jump!” someone in the
gathering shouted.

Ailyn’s stomach fell to her toes. Quinlan edged back
one more step. The crowd rushed them. Quinlan jerked her around, nodded. “Now,
lass!”

Gulping a breath of air into her lungs, Ailyn watched
him leap forth. She followed but a second behind. He let go of her hand. A
scream tore from her throat as the swell of sea below closed in on her. A flash
of light broke through the stormy horizon.

Her body hit the surface hard, knocking the air from
her. Blackness enveloped her. So black that she could not even sense the cold
or wet of the water. Only its roar.

Then silence.

She’d not fallen into the water at all.

Perhaps she’d died.

Which meant Quinlan might have as well.

Ailyn tried to make sense of the silent darkness. A
small light drew her eyes. She reached for it. As she did it grew, spreading
its warmth, giving depth and definition to her new surroundings. The sky above
held bright canopy of stars flanked by shadowy boughs. The soft sound of a
woman’s voice echoed through the trees.

Her mother’s voice. Singing in the tongue of their
ancestors. Singing the tale of a princess who left her people behind in order
to save them. Who gave up her immortal Fae birthright in order to join the
mortal world and safeguard them all.

“This
is your song, my sweet bird. Awaken!”

Ailyn jerked upright. Reality slammed to the fore,
loud and intense. She lay on a stone slab. Quinlan lay next to her unconscious.
They were at the center of a gathering, encircled by trees. A ring of small
fires enclosed her and Quinlan upon the slab. At the foot of the stones stood
Niall, holding the bloodstone aloft and shouting at the night sky.

The crowd chanted as well. Words she couldna
understand.

The trees framed the full moon in a cloudless sky.

She pushed at Quinlan’s shoulder. He did not respond.
His face was ashen and wet. No longer wet from the storm, now gone. From sweat.
Tendrils of violet lifted off of him and into the stone. Niall was sucking his
life-force from him.
 

Ailyn grabbed for the pendant at her chest. Gone.
She’d given it to Maera. She had naught but her feeble wits to aid them? She
could not forsake him.

She shifted. The stone beneath her wobbled. She held
still a moment then cast her instinct to not move aside. Let the stones fall.
Let them crash to the ground before them. She rolled onto Quinlan, straddling
him. Taking his shoulders, she shook him with all his might, screaming his
name.

The crowd roared in approval.

The violet aura emanating off of him thickened in the
air. A cloying scent all too familiar met her senses. She abandoned her hopes
of waking him by physical force. Attempting to block the energies flowing from
his chest, she lay against him, working her arms around him.

“Dinna leave me now, Quinlan. I need you.” Ignoring
the tear the coursed down her cheek onto his, she kissed his cold lips. “I need
you. Come back to me.”

Again, she kissed his lips.

Her chest tingled. She squeezed his neck, running her
thumbs over his ears, refusing to say goodbye. If they’d survived that leap,
surely they could survive this magick as well. “Come back to me.”

His hands wrapped around her ankles. Ailyn inhaled
sharply, hope shooting through her. The chanting grew faster. What could they
do to stop this darkness?

“More,” he whispered at her ear.

She pulled back to see his face. “More?”

“Aye,” he said. “Grow the power and then take it back,
lass. As your mother once fought.” His eyes shut. His head lolled to the side.
“Harder.”

“Quinlan? What d’you mean? As my mother once fought?”
The color coming from his chest weakened. Her mother had not fought. She had
cried. Her heart broke upon losing Ailyn’s father and she’d never been the
same.

Her father murdered.

Her mother bereft.

She could not face such a cruel fate as that. Mayhap
her mother had done all she could to save him. She did not know. What could a
brown blood Fae with mere traces of magick remaining do to save a man such as
her father was? A powerful man with powerful magick in his veins. The kind
Ailyn had denied could run through her own for all her life.