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Chapter Fourteen

A va eyed the dwindling pile of firewood they had carried into the great hall before barricading the windows and coating the sills with pine pitch, which caught the ice beetles when they tried to crawl inside. From the way they were piling up it wouldn’t be long before they overran the other beetles stuck in the pitch, however.

“We might try lighting the stuff,” Farlan was saying to Tasgall when she walked up to them. “Stone cannae burn.”

“I already tried to burn one with a torch,” Ava told him. “They don’t melt or catch fire.”

“The beetles but resemble ice,” her husband said. “They’re more like frost-colored glass, I reckon.”

“It’s more like a resin, or...shellac.” Ava nearly hit herself in the head. “Why didn’t I think of that? In my time, shellac is made from something secreted by a particular bug—a red beetle, I think.”

“A lac bug,” Ben said as he passed by them with an armful of blankets. “Before vinyl LPs they used to make records out of shellac, too.”

“Thanks, Doc.” She regarded her husband. “If a lac bug was enchanted to cover us with the stuff, then it would be just like what those caterpillars tried to do.”

“He wishes to render everyone inside the trap helpless.” Tasgall’s expression darkened. “Mayhap so he may search for his treasure unhindered.”

“I’d agree, Brother, but ’tis more than one bug,” Farlan put in. “And we cannae destroy them. When I struck one with a sword, my blade turned white and broke in three pieces.”

“The first one might have been sent to breed more,” Ava said. “Also, Seneschal, don’t keep hitting them with any kind of weapon.” She gestured at one of the guards Ben was tending to, who remained frozen with the handle of his ruined war hammer still in his fist. “That’s what he did.”

Some of the guards in the outer passage shouted the name of their war master, and a moment later Alec came in with Olivia, both carrying torches.

“Fire doesnae kill the beetles,” he said, tossing his into the hearth and catching a bow that one of the guards tossed to him. “They’ve near sealed off every entry to the stronghold.” He took a quiver of arrows from a watcher, glanced around the hall and gave the laird an appalled look. “Surely you’ve more men, my lord.”

“The creatures did their worst overnight,” Tasgall told him. “We’re the last who remain unfrozen.”

Ava let the men gather and talk while she went to Olivia and ushered her over to the table by the central hearth. “Love how the dress turned out. You and Alec spent the night in the stables?”

“I freed him but we couldn’t escape until after the MacBren and his men left.” She eyed the makeshift pallets where Ben was tending to the fallen. “Ava, how did it get so bad overnight?”

“We don’t know. Tas and I were here in the hall talking with Farlan and Ben when some guards reported hundreds of beetles pouring into the passages.” She nodded toward Ben’s makeshift infirmary. “We brought in as many as we could reach before we had to barricade ourselves inside. Nothing came after you and Alec in the stables?”

“No.” The surveyor suddenly flushed. “At least, I don’t think so. There’s no ice or whatever that stuff is in the stables.”

That seemed odd. “I wonder why.”

Olivia made a startled sound. “I almost forgot. I had a very strange dream, and the girl I met in it asked me to tell you and the laird everything about it. I know how crazy that sounds, too, but I think it could be important.”

“I’m from Texas. I’m fine with crazy.” She gave her a wry smile. “Go on and tell me.”

The dream Olivia described sounded at first like another tall tale, until she described the wave of red light, and how the girl had turned white and shattered when she’d fallen. She even took from her pocket the salt she had picked up from the floor of the stables.

“Well, I’ll be,” Ava muttered as she peered at the crystals, which had a slight golden color to them. “That’s downright biblical.”

“My aunt would slap me for it, but I agree with you.” At that point the surveyor gave her a worried look. “It was only a dream, though, so I wouldn’t put much faith in it.”

“It surely sounds that way, but it also reminds me of something my husband told me about the day the clan was cursed,” Ava said. “Two merchants were visiting the stronghold at the time. When the enchantment enveloped the castle, it made them both turn into pillars of salt that crumbled when they were touched. Tas believes the magic killed them because they were outsiders, and not part of the clan or the mortals who served them.” She nodded at the salt in the other woman’s palm. “I’m guessing that girl didn’t belong here, either.”

Olivia’s eyes widened. “The girl told me she’d come to Dun Talamh to hide here from someone—a man, I think. I think he might have been the one who cursed the clan, and when he did that, he killed her, too.”

The laird and Alec came to join them, and Tasgall said, “Please, my lady, describe the lass from your dream.”

“She was younger than me, and very pretty. Ah, she had blonde hair and big brown eyes, and she was wearing an expensive gold silk gown.” She grimaced. “Most of the time I was talking to her she was a gossamer version of herself, like a ghost.”

Ava didn’t much care for the look on her husband’s face. “Do you know something about this girl, Tas?”

“Aye, I may.” His gaze shifted back to Olivia. “My lady, did this lass wear a tartan on her shoulders?”

“She did. It was yellow, brown and purple, and I was sure I’d seen it before, but not there.” Her face lit up and she snapped her fingers. “Lord MacBren wore the exact same tartan when he came into the hall, my lord.”

Alec exchanged a look with Tasgall before the laird said, “The girl you saw, she’s Torra MacBren, his only daughter. The same daughter he demanded I wed before he was murdered.”

“Then she must have come here the same day the castle was removed from the twelfth century.” Ava thought back over what all the servants had claimed when she’d interviewed them. “The most popular theory the vassals have is that Torra cursed the clan to take revenge for her murdered parents. If she died like the two merchants, then she couldn’t have been the one who created the spell trap.”

“Why should she come to Dun Talamh to hide from the bastart?” Alec asked.

“He threatened her in some manner, enough to make her flee in fear for her life.” The laird regarded Olivia. “We must speak of the dream again, my lady, but for now ’tis better we search for a method to slay these beetles.”

“Fire and blunt force doesn’t work,” Ava had to point out, and then saw the surveyor frown at the salt in her hand. “What is it, Olivia?”

“The girl—Ms. MacBren—told me to use her to kill the matriarch beetle in the tower. She even showed me where it was. It must be the mother of all the other beetles.” She held up the salt. “I think she meant for me to use this.”

“Huh. Magical salt. Well, why not?” Ava said .

“’Twillnae prove easy, eluding the golachs to reach the tower,” Tasgall said.

“Here, my dreòlan .” Alec held out an empty pouch so Olivia could pour the salt inside. To the laird he said, “I shall go through the hidden passages. The golachs hunt us and our vassals, so they wouldnae bother to enter them.”

“You hope they didn’t,” Olivia said, getting to her feet. “I’m going with you.”

“’Tis too dangerous,” he argued. “You must remain here, where ’tis safe.”

“Safe it’s not, boy. The beetles will likely swarm the hall any minute, and then none of us can do squat,” Ava said, and smiled up at Tasgall after he handed Olivia a torch. “Thanks, my man.”

“I dinnae suppose you’d accompany them,” her husband said.

“Not on your life.” To Olivia she said, “Now go on and get up to that tower, pronto.”

She watched them go to the back of the hall, where Alec moved the faux stone panel hiding the entrance to the hidden passage behind it. With one last, long look at them Olivia went inside, followed at once by the war master with his bow held ready. Ava sighed and got to her feet, sliding her arms around her husband.

The beetles finally breeched the piles of others stuck to the sills and poured into the hall like small, glittering waterfalls.

“Never thought I’d see the day when Alec McKeran would act like a lovesick teenager,” she said as she leaned against Tasgall’s massive body. Although he would always be an immensely strong man, it was the tenderness with which he always touched her that comforted her. “That girl’s going to have her hands full with him.”

“I never imagined I’d see my war master in love,” the laird said as he rested his cheek against the top of her head. “If ’tis any way Alec may reach the matriarch, I ken he shall.”

“Me, too.” The sound of insectile scuttling made her close her eyes. “I love you, my wonderful husband.”

“And I you, my beautiful wife.” Tasgall tipped back her head, stroking his hands over her hair before he kissed her.

As the numbness crept up Ava’s legs, she found she didn’t care. If she had to spend all of eternity frozen, then being in her lover’s arms and kissing him while she did would be just fine with her.

A fter seeing through the window scroll that most of Dun Talamh had been encased in enchanted ice, Bodach knew he could finally enter the trap and search for his treasure unimpeded. He left the dungeons to return to the entry to the spell trap, where he retrieved his butterfly wings from his cache. The protective shrouds and his small size would keep the enchantment from immediately flinging him out, and with the clan frozen there was no risk of any other hindrance.

“Do you mean to go in there, Master?” Clagden asked.

He’d been so delighted by seeing the success of his ice beetles through the scroll that he’d forgotten to check for any sign of intruders. The last thing he needed was his treacherous servant around when he took on his insect guise; Clagden couldn’t kill him, of course, but he could injure him enough that it would require all of Bodach’s power to heal himself. If the changeling had some means with which to imprison him while he was helpless, he could become as trapped as the McKeran Clan.

Nothing Clagden could ever do for him was worth that risk.

“Not now.” Quickly Bodach tucked the silver shrouds inside his jacket pocket. “I know you must be hungry, and I need to rest tonight.” He made a shooing gesture. “You may go.”

The changeling grimaced. “I promised my betrothed that I would dispose of the bookkeeper.” He retreated into the shadows and returned with the limp body of the mortal female over his shoulder. “May I throw her into the spell trap?”

“Certainly not.” Bodach went over and pressed two fingers against the side of the woman’s throat. “She’s not even dead yet. If you shove her inside, she’ll be healed by the enchantment. She’ll then tell the clan about what she remembers.” When Clagden shrugged, he added, “Such as what happened between you and Jean at the gallery. That will tell them that your little friend was involved with dark Fae.”

“Mortals cannot remember how Jean and I use them,” the changeling said, and patted the bookkeeper’s bottom. “She would only remember you, and what you did to her, Master.”

Is he trying to threaten me? “I erased myself from her memory before I left, dear boy. Kill her and dispose of her remains elsewhere—that prison, perhaps, where you used to feed on the inmates.”

“A good suggestion. Sleep well, Master.” Clagden carried the mortal away.

Bodach followed, and watched his servant drive off with the bookkeeper. The changeling had been testing him, perhaps in hopes of uncovering a weakness. He suspected that it hadn’t been his idea, but something his lover had convinced him to do. Jean must have sensed the enormity of his power while he’d been amusing himself at the gallery. She might only be half-vampire, but the demonic blood that ran through her veins would still render her insatiable.

As soon as Clagden drove out of sight he returned to the dungeons, reinforcing the wards as he did to keep his location cloaked. On his blank viewing scroll he watched Clagden carry the bookkeeper inside his lover’s gallery, where he put her back in her office. He then went into Jean’s office, where she rushed into his arms.

All a ruse, Bodach thought, and tapped the image to add sound to the window.

“He threatened me,” Jean was saying. “I do not want him to burn down my gallery with me inside it. I was only trying to free you from your service to him.”

“I only offered to be his servant to get close to him,” Clagden assured her. “I only kissed his hand. Among my kind, an oath to a new master is meaningless without bloodshed.”

The halfling didn’t appear convinced. “Regardless, it’s reckless to keep pressing him. He’s not a fool, either. We should flee to Ireland now. ”

“All I need is a little more time,” Clagden assured her. “Once I find the seat of his power I can destroy it and render him defenseless. Then I’ll force him to transfer his wealth to us before I slay him.”

Jean twisted a lock of her shining blonde hair around her finger. “It’s too dangerous. You never should have chosen a freak like this one. I’ve heard so many terrible tales about him.”

“They’re silly stories that our kind make up because he’s different from them,” her lover assured her. “You saw how he was tonight. He may be clever, but in the end all he cares about is his own pleasure. He doesn’t even realize he’s being set up.”

Bodach waved a hand over the scroll, silencing Jean and erasing the image. Of course, he should have guessed that Clagden had other reasons for approaching him, but the dilemma of finding and retrieving his treasure occupied all of his thoughts lately. He hadn’t gotten what he’d wanted out of him yet, either.

If he found his treasure today he could use it to assume rule over Elphyne. Once installed as king, he would send an army of hunter-warriors to track down and exterminate Clagden, Jean and all the other Fae-blooded miscreants in the mortal realm.

Bodach went into the spell trap a short time later in his butterfly guise and flew into the stables. Although he expected to find the loving couple frozen in the throes, the hayloft proved empty. Alighting atop a hay bale, he had the sense that he was being watched, and looked up to see the shining black eyes of two creatures clinging to the rafters.

Bats had warm blood, so the spell trap’s magic had ignored them—or perhaps they had been in the old barn since the stronghold had been enchanted. Why had he never considered using bats?

The hay bale under him lifted and tossed itself across the loft, rolling off the edge. He flew up to the rafters, lighting next to the pair of bats. Both creatures crept closer to him, obviously intent on devouring him. Shifting out of his guise for a few moments, he quickly cast a spell over the bats to enslave them.

Find whatever attacked me, he told his bespelled creatures, and bring it to me.

O livia stopped to look over her shoulder, and gasped when she saw ice forming over the inside panel of the passage door.

“Dinnae stop,” Alec said. “Time, ’tis no’ our ally.”

They had to make their way single file through the narrow spaces, which the torch she carried barely illuminated. Yet as they went deeper into the stronghold’s warren of secret passages she saw no signs of the beetles, just as Alec had predicted. He stopped now and then, looking out through tiny holes in the stone walls before shaking his head and urging her along with him.

Olivia knew they were probably the only two people in the castle who hadn’t been frozen, and wondered if they should be putting such faith into what she’d been told in a dream. In the real world she’d never do such a crazy thing. They were likely going to fail and be trapped like everyone else. As Alec stopped again to check a spy hole her fear grew overwhelming, and she curled her arms around his waist to give him a back hug.

“What’s this now?” he asked, turning and looking down at her.

“I love you, Alec.” She wasn’t sorry for telling him her last secret. “You don’t have to say it back. I just...love you, and if we don’t make it–”

“We shall prevail,” he said, and put his mouth on hers.

The kiss Alec gave her made Olivia’s head spin, and all her fear dwindled. She wished he could hold her forever like this, his strong arms keeping her safe. The taste of his mouth reminded her of being naked with him, entwined together in passion. He was everything she had ever wanted, and she was going to fight whatever she had to in order to have a chance at a life with him.

He didn’t say he loves you, too, Mae’s ghost sneered. He’s just using you because you spread your legs for him, you slut.

“Come back to me,” Alec said, startling her.

Olivia had realized she’d drawn back from him, ending the kiss. “I’m sorry.”

“’Tis time the Gods gave us balance for what we’ve suffered in life,” he said, touching her cheek. “Now come. The hall outside, ’tis clear, and we need but cross it to enter the tower stairs.”

Olivia nodded and held his hand tightly as he moved aside the panel and stepped out into the outer passage with her. On the stone walls and floors she saw thin scrolls of snow that the beetles had left behind as they’d crawled around, but no sign of the bugs. Alec looked from one side to the other before he led her to the first step of the staircase leading up into the tower.

A faint whirring sound came from one end of the passage but started to grow louder.

“It’s in there,” he told her, nocking an arrow onto his bow.