Page 40

Alasdair

Alasdair awakened to find himself chained to a wall in some unknown place. The cool, damp environment told him he was probably in a dungeon. He opened his eyes slowly so he could take in the situation without letting anyone know that he was awake.

It was dark. A torch set the only light they had through the small window in the top of the door.

He studied the chamber he was in. He sat on a pallet, one foot chained to the wall, his bound hands in front of him allowing him little movement.

Another bed held John, and the sight of him lying there looking so helpless nearly undid him.

What the hell had happened out there? They’d never been overtaken by so many before, something they hadn’t expected.

It was as if they knew they would be coming.

John was asleep on the small cot, his hands and feet tethered by rope to the bed. Lia sat on a smaller bed near him, her hands tied and covered with some fabric.

She was awake, watching him.

“Lia?”

“Aye, my lord?”

“Alasdair. Is John all right?”

“Of course he is. His safety is the reason I’m here, my lord. I mean, Alasdair.”

“Kelvan or Glenna?” he whispered, needing to assess the situation as quickly as he could. He may be chained to a wall, but he was far from helpless.

“Both are here somewhere.”

“His sword?”

“I hid it under his tunic. Kelvan tried to touch it, but it burned his hand. It does not matter how much I warn him, he continues. Just like he did with Grant, and that wee lad burned his skin ferociously. Foolish K learned not to make that wee laddie angry. Now he needs to learn to leave John alone.”

Alasdair had to smile at the lass who’d been along on the worst ordeals. “Will we ever stop needing you, Lia?”

“Jake says aye. He sent me to you.”

“Jake? Jake who?”

“Your sire. John Alexander Grant. You look much like him.”

Alasdair’s eyes misted, though he had to wager that it was probably something in the chamber, not his emotions. Not the fact that he missed his mother and father every day of his life, or that it pained him to think that his parents had never met his wife or their bairns.

Neither he nor Aline had living parents, so their children hadn’t had the luxury of grandparents to spoil them.

“But your grandfather spoiled them whenever he could,” Lia whispered.

“I didn’t say that. I was thinking it.”

“I could hear it. Some thoughts are so important that they carry to me.”

“What else can you do, Lia? Will you untie us so I can get us out of here?”

Lia sighed and untied the mitts on her hands, folding them in her lap. “Some things I am instructed to do, and others I’m not.”

“So, you untied your hands? Release me, please.”

“But I don’t have the key.”

“Find it? I’m guessing you can.”

Lia chuckled. “I will when I’m told to find it.”

“I don’t understand. I want John to be safe.”

“John will be safe. You will never have to worry about your son. He is a chosen one to bear the weight of the sapphire sword, and with Grant, they will have powers that even you won’t understand. But there is time before that happens. For now, we must be patient.”

“Why?”

“If I set you free and you untie your son and remove him from here, what would happen next?”

“I would find a way to walk away.”

“And …”

“And what?”

“Kelvan and Glenna would still be free and alive to haunt and taunt you more. Steal more bairns. Stab more elders.”

He was having a difficult time trying to reason with a lass younger than John who had the power to do what she wished.

Sitting there with her hands folded, Lia appeared to be in complete control of the situation.

Why the hell wouldn’t she set the two of them free and escort them out of this hellhole?

“If you got us out of here, we would come back for them. And for Kyla. Where is she?”

“She is staying in a chamber in another area. You won’t find her without help. And I don’t know where she is yet.”

Alasdair felt like he was talking in circles. If she would just unlock the chains, he would get John away. They could return for Kyla later.

“But they would move again.”

He was beginning to understand. Something else needed to happen. Uncle Connor needed to bring the forces of Clan Grant down upon these evildoers, or the suffering would continue. “Can you read all my thoughts?”

“Nay, only the ones that are sent to me.”

“Is my sire still here?”

“He is.”

“Would you ask him why I am here? Why John?”

She paused for a moment and closed her eyes. “They will need someone on the inside to lead them to Kelvan and Glenna. Both must be destroyed, or Clan Grantham will never be free.”

“So, we are here to help the others find us.”

“Or Kyla would never be found. And she needs to be. They could take her and leave the area, never to return. But it’s not her time yet.”

“I still don’t understand how we can help.”

“It’s simple, actually. No one can hurt John. Me, I’m a faery, so I am immune to their weaponry. And the two of us can protect ourselves and find our way out when the time comes.”

“True. So I have no purpose?”

“Alasdair, there is another man standing next to your sire who looks like both of you, though he is taller.”

Alasdair could barely contain himself, his thoughts going to the two men he adored and admired more than any other—his sire and grandsire. “Grandda?” His voice cracked, something he was powerless to stop.

“Aye. His name is Alexander. And he has a message for you.”

Alasdair looked at every corner of the small chamber, wishing he could see any of the three—his father, his mother, or his grandfather. “I’m listening.”

“Alex says, ‘You have a verra important purpose and you must listen carefully.’”

Alasdair teared up. “I’m listening, Grandda.”

“You were brought here for my daughter. Your grandmother and I pushed you to do all you did for this purpose. We will take care of your son, Alasdair. We cannot help Kyla. You must.”

Alasdair covered his face with his bound hands, so humbled by the possibility that his grandfather was speaking to him. “I’m honored, Grandsire. I’ll make you proud.”

Then he swiped away the tear that had rolled down his cheek.

He had a job to do, and he would see it through.

On his honor as the grandson of Alexander and Madeline Grant.