Exiled (8 page)

“Malachai,” the tallest of the men spoke, “what is the meaning of this?”

“Intruders.” Malachai’s tone was silky smooth. “No problem, Roark. I’ll deal with them.”

“And the slaves?” Malachai’s hands fisted at his side. “They will be dealt with as well.” The man, Roark, studied their small group, his gaze didn’t falter as it passed over her, but his brows drew together when he reached Tallon. “Tallon? What’s the meaning of this?”

“Malachai has betrayed you all.” Malachai’s lips curled into a smile. “Obviously, he’s lying.

He’s been seduced by the witch’s lies, bewitched by their evil ways. I warned you he’d betrayed us.”

“The proof is in the tower,” Tallon replied.

Freya stepped forward. “Malachai is holding the Goddess prisoner in the tower. We’ve come to awaken her.” Roark frowned. “It is true the Goddess sleeps in the tower.

She is there for her protection, until she wakes.”

“We can wake her.” Cass stepped forward. She took a deep breath. “I am Casterix.” A gasp went through the crowd.

“And I’ve come to sort out the balls-up you lot have made.” She pointed at Malachai. “And to bring him to justice for the murder of my chosen mate.” Freya and Shayla moved to stand at her back, and she saw the warlocks shock as they took in the moon marks on their cheeks.

“Witches.”

“Yeah, witches who are going to save your asses. We can wake the Goddess. Malachai has been keeping her in an enchanted sleep using the magic you steal from the witches.” Roark turned to Malachai. “Is this true?”

“It’s all lies,” Malachai drawled. “The witch has no doubt returned to gloat over what she has brought our world to.” Roark’s glance switched between the two of them. “Then let’s go see.” Cass had expected more of an argument; then it came to her.

“You’ve known all along, haven’t you? And you did nothing.”

“Not known, but we had begun to suspect.”

“Quick of you. And what—you thought if you ignored it the problem would just go away.” She shook her head but said no more. After all, what right did she have to chastise anybody? She’d known what was going on and told herself she could do nothing. She was more to blame for this than anyone else.

Were they too late? Once more, she searched for her magic, but it remained locked down tight inside her.

“Take his staff,” Roark said, waving a hand toward Malachai.

Malachai snarled and backed away. He turned to his guard who stood arrayed at his back. “Fight them.” But the guards looked from him, to the slaves, to the council members. As one, they shook their heads.

Callum strode forward and snatched the staff from Malachai’s hand, flinging it to the ground.

The door at the base of the tower led into a circular room.

An archway at one end revealed a narrow spiral staircase, which wound around the tower leading upward. Malachai took the lead, with Callum and Roark at his shoulders. Cass followed with Freya and Shayla still at her back, and Tallon and Jarrod behind them. The council members brought up the rear. Pale, early morning sunlight filtered in through slits in the bare stone wall lighting their way.

Malachai should have been helpless without his staff but suddenly he leaped two steps ahead, whirled around, and stretched out his hand. In that second, Cass remembered the moon magic, twisted and warped to his control. A bolt of crimson lightning flew from his fingertips and blasted into them throwing Callum against her. They tumbled backward, crashing into Freya and Shayla. Cass managed to right herself and then Callum was on his feet and dashing up the stone steps. She raced after him, heart pounding. She was gasping for air by the time they halted in front of a wooden door. This one wasn’t plain but inlaid with the swirling, glowing lines of runes of power.

She pressed her hand to the wood of the door and felt the pulse of magic, but nothing happened. Freya came up beside her and she stepped aside. As Freya touched the door lightly, the runes shifted, realigned and the door swung open.

Cass stepped into the room. The air prickled with magic and she rubbed her arms. Regular narrow slits punctuated the walls of the circular stone chamber. At the far end, part of the wall had been blasted away and through the breach, she could see the pale ochre of the dawn sky beyond. The gap spilled light into the room clearly illuminating the woman on the low stone couch at the center. She wore a long dress of black cobweb lace and she lay as still as death.

The Goddess.

Malachai crouched over her, a long silver dagger in his hand.

He glanced up an expression of malevolent hatred on his face.

Callum slowly raised his staff and whispered a word. Malachai flew across the room, slamming into the wall opposite, the knife dropping with a clatter to the flagstones. Callum stalked after him, drawing the sword from the scabbard at his back as he moved.

Reaching down, he then grasped Malachai by the throat and dragged him to his feet and across the floor. They stood poised at the edge where the gaping hole showed the sky beyond. Callum lashed out with one foot, knocking Malachai’s legs from under him, so he collapsed to his knees.

Releasing his hold, Callum took a single step back and swung the sword. The blade hardly faltered as it sliced through Malachai’s neck. His head flew from his body and vanished down toward the courtyard below. The rest remained poised for a moment, then Callum kicked him in the chest and the body followed.

Cass ran to the edge and watched as it spiraled down toward the ground, twisting and tumbling, raining a spray of blood from the severed neck. She’d hated Malachai for so long, and now he was dead. It seemed unreal. She waited to feel something, but her mind remained numb.

And there was still work to be done. She turned back to where the Goddess lay in enchanted sleep.

Now Malachai was gone, she would waken as the charms weakened, but who knew how long that would be? Years...centuries. Arroway was dying and they didn’t have the time. They had to waken her.

They stood at the Goddess’s head. Cass held out a hand to Freya and Shayla and they each slid a palm into hers. She could feel the pulse of magic from the points of contact, but from herself—nothing. She searched deep inside, but her magic refused to respond to her call. Through the gap in the wall, she could see the witches’ moons setting low on the horizon and she willed them to help her. But there was no answer.

A sense of helplessness invaded her; she’d never considered her magic would refuse to come to her call. “What’s wrong?” Shayla asked. “Why isn’t it working?”

“Arroway has rejected me. It doesn’t recognize my magic.” She tugged her hands free and touched the small scar on her cheek where the mark had once been.

“Well make it,” Shayla said.

Cass nodded. Moon magic was also blood magic. Deep down, she’d always known it would come to this.

A hand came down on her shoulder as Callum tried to give her comfort. The warmth of his love flooded through her; she was glad he was with her at the end.

“This finishes, tonight,” she said.

He squeezed her shoulder. “I know.”

“What are you talking about?” Freya said. “This isn’t the end.

It’s the beginning of a new life for us all.”

“For you. You’ll bring back life to the land. But all I bring is death.” She shrugged off Callum’s hold and crossed the room to where the light glinted off the silver blade Malachai had dropped.

Picking it up, she held the dagger up to the light. It was sharp; she would hardly feel the cuts.

She carried it back to where Callum stood. His face filled with sadness but also acceptance. They’d at least had this time to say good-bye.

“Hold me,” she said.

He turned her so she faced the Goddess. After wrapping his strong arms around her waist, he pulled her back against the long length of his body as though they were one. It felt so good to be held.She sliced the blade across her right wrist. There was no pain and suddenly the magic awoke inside her. Power streamed along her veins and out of her body through the cut. The sweet, coppery scent of blood permeated the air. Cass shifted the knife and slashed her left wrist, the cut more uneven this time as her hand shook.

Dropping her arms to her sides, she glanced down at the crimson blood pooling around her. Magic was a tangible thing now, filling the room as it drained from her body. Through her heavy lashes, she could see Freya’s tears.

Her legs gave way. Callum scooped her up in his arms and sank to the floor with her cradled against him. He stroked her hair from her forehead, and she curved her lips into a smile.

“I love you.”

“And I you,” he murmured.

The dim light was fading as darkness grew behind her eyes.

“I would have chosen to stay with you, if I could have found a way,” she whispered.

“I know.” His arms tightened around her. She’d thought she would never feel his touch again and she wanted to stay with him. But this would be enough.

Her lashes flickered closed, and the darkness took her.

~*~

Callum held her close, feeling the life draining from her body.

In all the years he’d been lost between worlds, alone and almost insane, he’d prayed for one more moment with Casterix. Sworn he would go to death content if he could have the time to say good-bye.

He’d had that and more. He should be satisfied. Instead, he wanted to scream at the fates that had brought them together only to part them.

“She hovers between life and death,” a voice whispered above him. He tore his gaze from Cass’s face to the Goddess. “If she dies, she will take you with her; it is her life force which holds you in the land of the living.” At least he would not have to stay alone.

“She cannot remain here,” the Goddess continued. “The land will never forgive her.”

“She knew that,” he replied.

“And she is willing to give her life for Arroway. That sacrifice should be rewarded.” Hope flickered to life inside him. He pushed it down, waiting to hear what she would say.

“I can send you both back to the world of her exile. Neither of you can ever return to Arroway. But there is important work to do there, helping the witches who wish to return home.”

“You can send us back?”

“It must be your decision. Death or exile.” What would Cass want? But he knew—she would choose him. “Return us.”

Cass lay on her back, something heavy pressing her down into the hard ground.

She forced open her lids and stared up at the night sky. A single fat, yellow moon hung low in the starry sky, casting its light down on the stone circle.

She was back on Earth. And Callum was on top of her. Which was all very well—wonderful actually—but she couldn’t breathe.

She wriggled, hoping he would get the message, and he rose up on his elbows giving her space to draw the air into her lungs.

She was alive. A wild exhilaration filled her.

Callum pushed himself up so he was sitting beside her. She took his hand, needing to touch him. Death had been so close.

She’d felt it tugging at her, calling to her.

“What happened?” she asked. “I thought I was dead.”

“The Goddess awoke.”

“It worked then?” He grinned. “It worked. You saved her, saved Arroway.”

“So how did we get here?”

“She said you couldn’t stay on Arroway, that the land would never forgive you. I had to choose to follow you into death or she would send us back here.” Pain flooded her, quickly washed away on the realization that she was alive and Callum was beside her. She’d never allowed herself to think of this world as home. It had always been the place of her exile. Now she would make a home for both of them here.

Callum stroked her fingers. “You don’t mind? You can never return to Arroway. But I had to choose.”

“You chose right.” She took his hand, raised it to her lips, and kissed his palm. “Welcome to Earth. Welcome home.”

Nina Croft grew up in the north of England. After training as an accountant, she spent four years working as a volunteer in Zambia, which left her with a love of the sun and a dislike of 9-5 work. She then spent a number of years mixing travel (whenever possible) with work (whenever necessary) but has now settled down to a life of writing and picking almonds on a remote farm in the mountains of southern Spain. Nina’s writing mixes romance with elements of the paranormal and science fiction.