Page 11

Chapter Eleven

A fter a hot shower—one of the things he missed the most when not in Scotland—Padriag felt renewed. Glad to be fully clothed and with shoes on his feet, he strode from the bedroom he’d woken up in and hurried to find the others. There wasn’t any time to waste, they had to figure out what happened before he felt the pull to return to Esland.

Once on the first floor, he followed the sound of voices into the dining room. Everyone surrounded the table and was eating when he walked in. They looked up.

Erin’s gaze swept over him, which affected him as much as if she touched him where her eyes roamed.

“Join us,” Gwen said, “Discuss while we eat.”

The chair next to Erin had been left empty, so he pulled it back and lowered to sit. “Where are Sabrina and Gavin?”

Tristan replied, “He accompanied her to work, in London.”

“It couldn’t be put off. As much as they hate not to be here to help,” Tammie added. “Gavin will be returning in a couple days. In case he is needed.”

The fact that the pair was doing something besides trying to save him was gratifying. “I am glad. All of you should be living your life instead of putting things off because of me.”

“It will be a battle. You are aware we will never give up, so stop bringing it up,” Liam said walking in and giving Padriag a pointed look. “You could have left a note when you left Esland.”

Padriag returned the look. “I was asleep. Then next thing I know I’m in a strange kitchen wearing one piece of clothing ...” He frowned. “What do you mean by a battle?”

Taking his time, Liam pulled a chair and sat next to Erin’s cousin, Aubrey, who studied him as if he were a work of art. The Brit was attractive, Padriag supposed.

After leisurely buttering a piece of bread, Liam met his gaze. “All I know is that the path to freedom will be hard fought, my friend.”

“Meliot has gained some of his powers back. He is affecting things here,” Tristan stated. “What we cannot understand is how.”

“Davina’s death released her powers into the realm and, of course, since they were dark powers, Meliot must have acquired them,” Liam said, his tone somber.

Tammie blew out a breath. “Is that why it will be hard to free Padriag?”

Liam nodded. “Yes. Then there is the matter of finding a home. We cannot remain in Esland much longer.”

“What about a spell?” Liam asked.

Erin slid a notebook from beside her plate. “We have been working on it while Padriag ... er slept.”

“You slept?” Liam frowned at Padriag and looked to Tristan. “Why did you let him sleep? He has work to do.”

“I had to use magic.”

Liam nodded again, understanding what had occurred. “Let me see.” He read over whatever was on Erin’s notebook.

“I think we should try it,” Gwen said, sliding a look to him. Padriag was almost positive it wouldn’t work. Not after what Liam had stated. There was more the Brit wasn’t saying. When Liam left details out, it wasn’t an indication anything good was to come.

“I agree,” Tammie said. “If nothing else, we will get a sense if we’re on the right path with what we’ve come up with.”

When he turned to look at Erin, it was obvious by her pinched expression that she was as unsure as he was. Despite knowing everyone around the table was serious about saving him, Padriag wanted nothing more than to enjoy the meal and spend time with his friends. Too soon it would be harder and harder to return to Scotland. He was weak, though he did his best to hide it. The magic he’d used to cut through the fog had taken a toll on him.

Erin cleared her throat and looked down at the words she’d written. “Here we go.”

Everyone was solemn, Gwen and Tammie held hands and closed their eyes.

“By love unbroken, by bond unshaken,

I summon the heart that fate has taken.

By moon’s soft glow and sun’s first light,

Break these chains, undo the night.

Through endless time, through veil and mist,

Let not our bond be lost, dismissed.

By whispered vow and promise sworn,

Return, this knight, from where he was torn.

From shadows deep and silent grave,

Rise once more, be strong and brave.

By fate’s design and heart’s decree,

The knight’s return will come to be.”

An expectant heavy silence hung in the air, each person seeming reluctant to break whatever, if anything, happened from the spell.

Noting tears sliding down Erin’s face, Padriag took her hand in his.

All of a sudden something traveled through him, a spark of sorts. The hairs on his arms stood on end and there was a slight tingling at his nape. Whatever it was must have affected the others because everyone was looking at their arms. Still no one spoke as if not wishing to scare away whatever would happen next.

The lights in the room brightened and dimmed, then flashed before they went out, leaving the room lit only from the light from the corridor.

Tiny sparks of light floated in the air, twirling and flitting about like fireflies. Like stars in the sky, there had to be thousands of them.

Then, what looked to be something like a ribbon of light formed as the lights joined into long streamers and continued their odd motions, twisting in the air, circling over their heads.

His skin tingled, goosebumps formed on every inch of his body, it wasn’t unpleasant, but more as if warmth filled him. When everyone turned to look at Padriag, he lifted his arms noting that the little lights covered his skin.

A strange surge of energy shot through his body, and he jerked back onto the chair, barely hearing the exclamations of surprise from the others.

Then, just as gently as the lights came, they floated upward and vanished.

“Are you alright?” Erin asked, her hand pressed to his upper chest. “Can you talk? Breathe?”

Padriag nodded, although honestly not sure how he felt.

Pushing back from the table, he stood, feeling strong and renewed.

“I think whatever that was gave me strength. I feel great.”

Liam’s lips curved. “You are ready to face all that will come your way.”

Giving his friend a droll look, Padriag crossed his arms. “Look Obi One, stop talking in riddles. Just tell me the truth. That Meliot is about to unleash holy hell on me.”

Tristan and Niall looked between him and Liam. Tristan let out a huff. “Liam, what do you know?”

“Nothing more. Like I said, he will face trials, and his release will be harder fought than any of ours.”

Tammie gave Liam an exasperated look. “Can you at least give specifics of what he needs to prepare for?”

“I will speak to Padriag alone. What I have to say is only for him to hear,” Liam replied.

The familiar tug from the alter-world urged his return. “Let’s talk, then,” Padriag remarked. “But I want Tristan and Niall to be present.”

He slid a look to Erin. “I expect them to fill you in on whatever they deem pertinent.”

Tears sprang to her eyes, and she gave him a shaky smile. Even with a reddened nose and shiny eyes, Erin was beautiful. He wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and hold her. He prayed to have the opportunity before having to leave.

The four men went into the library and settled into comfortable chairs after Tristan closed the doors.

By Liam’s expression, it was obvious what he would impart was not good news. Padriag stood, uncorked a crystal decanter and poured whiskey into a glass, downed it and then served himself another two fingers.

When he sat down, Liam spoke again. “Not everything I saw is exact. However, as we have learned my visions always come to be.”

“I don’t want to know. Not now.” Padriag’s voice shook with emotion.

Just as Liam started to speak, Padriag jumped to his feet and stormed from the room, down the short hallway and out the front door. He kept walking without a destination in mind, unseeing past the sudden blurriness. Tears of frustration slid down his face and he made no effort to brush them away.

Despite the renewed strength coursing through him, Padriag was bone-deep weary. Not just tired in body but hollowed out in spirit.

Somewhere along the way, he’d lost the will to continue fighting. He collapsed onto the grass, letting gravity take over, his back pressing into the earth as if hoping it might absorb some of the ache lodged inside him.

Above him, the sky stretched vast and endless, a tapestry of blue streaked with clouds so soft and white they barely looked real. They floated lazily, like they had all the time in the world. A cruel contrast to the relentless pressure building inside him. The beauty of it struck something raw. There were no skies like this in the other world. No scent of moss, or the subtle, grounding blend of sun-warmed soil and wind-whipped grass.

That world felt sterile. Harsh. Hollow.

But here … here was Scotland. And in this fleeting moment, it was the only place in the world he wanted to be. The sounds, smells of moss and pine with just a hint of salty sea, soothed his weary soul. Reminded him of who he was before everything had fallen apart. He clung to that sense of belonging like a man drowning clings to a raft.

“It’s a beautiful day,” Erin said softly, sinking down to lie beside him with deep breaths that hinted she’d run to catch up. Her breath was quick, chest rising and falling, but her presence was a balm. Quiet. Steady.

She reached for his hand, threading her fingers through his without another word. And thank God for that, because if she’d said anything more, he might’ve broken and, worse than tears, he feared he might actually sob. So he stayed still, letting her warmth seep into him, breathing in the scent of earth and her and peace.

Minutes passed, how long he didn’t know. Time somehow seemed to soften around them.

Then, with a tenderness that struck deep, Erin nestled against his side, her voice soft, gentle. “I cannot imagine what you’re feeling. What you and the others have endured is beyond cruel. It’s not fair. None of it is. And no one blames you for wanting to stop fighting. You must be so very tired.”

He nodded, a slight jerk of his chin. Tired wasn’t even the word. He was wrecked. Drained. And fed up with Meliot’s twisted games. Every time he thought he could rest, something else ripped peace away.

When Erin pressed her lips to his jaw, his eyes fluttered shut. God, it had been torture not to reach for her last night. Pure willpower had kept him from crossing the line, from taking what his heart had long since claimed. But now, with her hand in his and her lips on his skin, the ache in him deepened. If they had made love, he knew—he knew —he would be lost without her.

Her voice came again, quiet but unwavering, threading through the chaos in his soul like a lifeline.

“Just one more fight, Padriag. Not for anyone else but for you . For your freedom. Dig down deep. Find whatever’s left andhelpus.”

If only it were that simple. If promises alone could carry him through. His body might just have enough left in it. But his heart? His spirit? He wasn’t so sure.

“I don’t know,” he rasped. “I don’t know if I can.”

She turned his face to hers with gentle fingers, her eyes, those green, expressive long-lashed eyes, piercing straight through his defenses.

“You can,” she said, fierce in her softness. “Iknowyou can.”

And in that moment, words were useless. He reached for her, covering her mouth with his in a kiss that was both surrender and plea. She tasted like hope and something sweeter than mercy. Her arms wrapped around his neck, drawing him closer, her kiss full of fire and devotion. She didn’t need to say another word, he felt it all in the way she held him. She’d fight for him. She already was.

Padriag crushed her against him, needing the warmth of her, the weight of her, therealness. The scent of her hair, the softness of her skin, he soaked it in, desperate for the reminder that life still held something beautiful.

“Fight for me,” she whispered, lips brushing his ear, her breath sending a shiver through him.

Damn if she didn’t make him feel like hemattered. Like he was still the hero of his own story.

“I will,” he whispered back, though the words came hollow and unsure. He wanted to believe them. Needed to. But truthfully, Padriag wasn’t sure if he could.

Maybe, just maybe, he’d find a way.

It was strange to have a woman’s hand in his, but holding Erin’s was like having an anchor that kept him from floating away.

They walked into the house. No one was in sight. The women had gone, to allow the men privacy.

“Go,” Erin whispered, rising up on her toes to kiss his cheek.

When she released his hand, Padriag took a deep breath and walked into the library and saw that Gavin had joined Tristan, Niall and Liam.

The Brit gave him a bored look. “Now let’s get on with this. Padriag and I have to return immediately.”

“What exactly did you see?” Tristan’s voice was low, tense, his gaze sweeping the room like a man searching for threats in every shadow. “If something’s coming, we need to be ready.”

Liam didn’t answer right away. His eyes like still, icy water, the weight of what he carried evident in the set of his jaw. “It’s going to take all five of us,” he said finally. “Every single one. No exceptions.”

The room stilled. A cold dread spreading like smoke.

Padriag’s stomach turned to stone. Whatever Liam had seen was unimaginable. His mind whirled in anticipation.

Liam took a breath, and when he spoke again, his voice was quieter but heavier. “This is the last quest. We will all return to the other realm. And if we fail ... we don’t come back.”

Silence fell like a blade.

No one moved. No one spoke. They just sat, still as stone, as if moving might make Liam’s words real.

Padriag stood, fists clenched. “No. I won’t allow this. Not after what you’ve all been through. You earned your freedom, you can’t be dragged back into that place.”

Liam met his eyes, and despite the gravity of the moment, there was a strange warmth in his smile. “It’s not about what we want, Padriag. It’s happening, whether we’re ready or not.”

“Good,” Niall said, breaking the tension with a steel edge in his voice. “Then we go. Together we are stronger and this time we won’t fail.”

Liam nodded once. “You’ll each need a weapon. Keep it close. I don’t know if you will be given any time before you are compelled back.”

Gavin raised an eyebrow. “Can I bring a gun? Better yet, a machine gun?”

“They won’t work,” Tristan said grimly. “Not in that place.”

“Not against dark magic,” Liam confirmed. “Steel, fire, skill—that’s what we’ll need.”

Padriag sagged. As if the warlock hadn’t already brought them centuries of penance, now, once again. They’d have to beat a quest to win their freedom. If it was at all possible.

Tristan stood, already half-turned toward the door. “I’m going to find Gwen. If we’re being pulled back ... I need to spend as much time as possible with her.”

He paused, looking back at the others. “You should do the same. We may not get another opportunity.”