Immortal Desires (Well of Souls) (21 page)

***

Highlands, September 1505

Ian paced along the walk at the top of the curtain wall, the guards averting their eyes from his thunderous mood. Deanna had already been gone for a month but that didn't mean she couldn't come back at any moment, even if the others had given up hope.

He waited each day for his mother to tell him she'd seen something new about Deanna's return. Each day she gave him a little shake of her head, her sad eyes a reflection of his sagging spirit. Each night Ian argued with the Gods, waiting for an answer as to why they allowed this to happen. They gave him only silence in return.

***

"I'm going to see the Cailleach," he announced one morning after Deanna had been gone for almost two months. Isobel wrung her hands, her face turning pale with fright. Only his mother knew how dangerous forcing a meeting could be. She opened her mouth to argue, then closed it without a word and lowered her head.

"I'm riding with you," a firm voice said behind him. Ian turned to find Tomas standing rigid, his face a mask of stubborn determination.

Ian considered it a moment, then nodded. Perhaps it would be best to have a witness along…in case the Cailleach didn't let him return.

They left as soon as they could gather supplies for the journey and rode hard, reaching the standing stones of Clach an Righ before full night. Ian left Tomas outside of the circle with the horses, not willing to risk his captain to the Cailleach's wrath.

Ian stepped inside the stones and cleared his mind, waiting for the transformation of the secret place to be revealed to him.

Nothing.

He stayed inside the circle all night, vacillating between entreaty and threats. Still the Goddess ignored him, although why she didn't strike him down was a mystery.

Dawn blazed with a light that only autumn can bring, piercing his heart with its beauty. He remembered the way the sun glinted through Deanna's hair whenever she tilted her head…

"My laird." Tomas stood at the edge of the circle, heedless of the danger to himself. "Come away from there. You must eat and rest."

Ian knew that the guard had done neither himself, instead standing watch over his laird throughout the night. Knowing Tomas was right didn't make it any easier to admit defeat. Ian walked out of the circle with his head held high, though a sourness churned in his gut. He'd run out of ideas to bring Deanna back to him.

***

Highlands, April 2011

"The old stories say the walls are thinnest between here and the Otherworld at certain times of the year," Mr. MacFegan said as they sat eating supper together. "One of those days is Bealtuinn, which starts at midnight tonight."

Deanna was taken aback by the offhand way he said it, as if he were discussing the weather. Hope surged through her and she closed her eyes against the dizziness it brought.

How could she have forgotten that? It was on May 1—Bealtuinn—a year from now that she'd first disappeared.

"You're right. Thank you." She jumped up and leaned over, planting a kiss on his cheek. His face turned pink as he smiled at her.

"I've enjoyed your company, lass." His eyes shone with an odd light for a moment, so quickly that Deanna wasn't sure if she'd imagined it or not.

Seeing her puzzled look, he smiled wider. "Dinna fash yourself. Be happy."

"I will," she managed to stutter. Who was he really? She'd probably never figure it out and he didn't seem inclined to tell her. It didn't matter anyway.

Deanna rushed upstairs to stare at the clock and wait for midnight to approach.

Chapter Forty-Two

Deanna paced in her room, finally slipping outside bundled in a heavy coat fifteen minutes before midnight. At 12:01 a.m., she planned to be gone. Excitement raced through her veins, giving off its own kind of heat as she thought of her reunion with Ian. The last two weeks had battered her psyche. She wondered how he'd fared. Did he think she'd left on purpose? The thought turned her stomach at the betrayal he must have felt.

By 12:10 despair started to slither back down her spine. She'd been so sure of her plan. Pain cramped Deanna's fingers as the sides of the brooch bit into flesh. She eased her grip and stared at the cold-looking jewels, willing them to perform their magic. Still she stood there, surrounded by the dead as her only companions.

Her feet flew out from under her when a noise like a crack of thunder blasted behind her. Deanna landed on the ground, the impact jarring the brooch out of her hand. A raven mocked her from a nearby branch as she crawled on the ground, her hands flailing through the dirt in an effort to find the brooch again.

What if the earth had reclaimed its prize? Wasn't Cailleach the Goddess of the earth? "No! You can't do this to me. I demand the right to go back."

Her breathy sob came to a shuddering stop as her hand closed around the piece of jewelry and she clutched it to her chest, ignoring the bite of pain to her fingers. The cold of the night seeped into her body, weariness blanketing Deanna in a fog of disorientation. She couldn't stay out here all night, yet the thought of leaving and going back into the hotel was a decision she couldn't confront. Deanna stayed on the ground and hugged her knees to her chest, letting her forehead drop down to rest against her legs.

A wind lifted her hair and Deanna opened her eyes to peer into the darkness. Had she fallen asleep? It didn't seem likely but the cotton-stuffed feeling inside her head told her a different story.

A low howl vibrated in her ears, at first sounding like an animal before enveloping her with no way to escape it. The vortex was back, both frightening and welcomed. Deanna struggled to her feet and spread her arms wide, reaching for the wind as if to embrace a lover.

She fell into the abyss—turning, twisting, seeking no direction in particular except a way back to Ian. Deanna held onto the thought of him like a beacon as her body stretched and tumbled through the night. She landed with a thump that knocked the breath from her; the only light to reach her eyes that from the glow of a fire.

***

Highlands, November 1505

Ian sat staring into the fire, his mind adrift with memories. Deanna had been missing for three months now. The Cailleach still refused to grant him entrance to her world, despite repeated trips to see her. The only vision Isobel had was of the lass surrounded by a bright light.

He hung his head as the fire coughed and spit in front of him, not wishing to see the images any longer. Life must go on and he had a duty to perform. Ian stood and banked the fire before walking out the door and heading into the night. It was time to light the fires for Samhuinn and usher in the winter months. His people needed protection from any mischief the Fae might bring on this day.

Magic swirled around Ian as he lit the fires, growing stronger as the flames licked the air. Something didn't feel right. He whirled around with dirk in hand, startling one of his men. The feeling continued to pulse in his blood, bringing on the fever of battle.

"There is magic in the keep. Follow me," he commanded and his warriors fell in behind him as Ian set off at a run.

They entered the hall in time to see a great light explode in the room, blinding them all for a moment. Somebody groaned and Ian cast his knife away, calling for torches. He recognized the magic cloaking the person on the floor and his heart seized before falling back into rhythm once more.

"Deanna? Answer me!"

"Ian? Am I really back?" She coughed as if she couldn't catch her breath and Ian knelt down beside her. His arms wrapped around her, clasping her body to his chest lest she disappear from sight again.

"I've missed you, mo chridhe," he whispered into her hair. "These past months have tortured my mind, wondering if you'd never return again."

"Months?" She wiggled back to look at him but he stopped her with a kiss. There would be time to talk later. Deanna persisted, though.

"Months?" she repeated, mumbling against his lips.

He released her mouth with reluctance. "Aye. 'Tis been three months. Today is November 1, the Samhuinn."

"For me it's only been two weeks, although I traveled back to a year before I came here in the first place. I don't understand any of the dates." Deanna shook her head, her eyes two pools of light shining in the glow of the torches. "Did the brooch come back with me?"

Everyone helped search the hall but didn't find it. By then, his mother had come downstairs and clutched Deanna to her, weeping as women do.

"I don't ever want to see that blasted brooch again," Deanna declared and smiled at him through a veil of tears.

"Raise the keep," Ian shouted. "The wedding's at dawn. I willna let the Immortals take my Lady from me again."

Pandemonium broke out as the men scattered, banging on doors and shouting the news. Tomas knelt in front of Deanna and took her hand in his.

"I pledge my life to you, Lady Deanna, the same as to my Laird." He bowed, touching his forehead to her knuckles.

"Thank you." Her voice wavered and Ian moved to her side.

"Are you feeling all right?" he asked as she leaned against him.

"I'm fine, just a little overwhelmed right now. I can't believe I'm really here." She grabbed his arm and turned her face up to him. "This isn't a dream, is it? Tell me I'm not going to wake up and find that none of this is real."

"It's no dream, lass. You're here with me where you belong." He gave her a kiss that ignited the yearnings he'd tried to suppress all these months. She was back to stay. He'd make sure of that.

Chapter Forty-Three

Boulder, October 2012

The figure arrived in a shaft of light, its robes concealing the face in shadow. Ian and Robert knelt before the Aeneas Council member for the unexpected visit. At least unexpected as far as Ian knew. Maybe Robert had an idea as to why the Council had picked this particular time.

"I bring you news of the kidnapped souls." The feminine voice spoke inside of Ian's head, picking through his thoughts while she was there. He steeled himself against the intrusion and heard a peal of laughter at his discomfort. "The Conrí have hidden the humans in the Otherworld, in a place warded against Aeneas magic."

"Then they are lost to us?" Robert asked.

"Not necessarily. A Druid would be able to penetrate their wards." The hooded robe turned toward Ian and his mind burned with the intensity of being scrutinized. "Your Immortal powers can be temporarily stripped, freeing you to enter their realm with ordinary weapons."

"But mortal weapons canna kill a Conrí," Ian protested.

"True, but they would suffice as a distraction for a Druid of your ability—at least long enough to free the captive humans."

"And if he dies while unable to use his Immortal powers…?" Robert seemed angered at the suggestion.

The robe shrugged. "It is his choice whether to try this or not, Kyndeyrn. The question is not for you to answer."

Ian nodded. He might have a choice but there was only one honorable answer. "I will go."

"And I'm going with him," Robert declared.

"You canna help me." Ian gripped Robert's shoulder and pulled his attention away from the Council member. "You're no a Druid. You'd have no power at all to protect yourself."

"I can still fight alongside you, my young friend. We will go together."

"It is decided," the woman said, cutting off any further protests that Ian would have made. "Prepare yourselves to leave at nightfall." She faded out in another burst of light, leaving Ian to glare at Robert for his foolishness.

"Why are you doing this?" Ian asked later that evening as the sun dipped behind the Flatirons. Robert had avoided him all day as they each made preparations to leave. Now they stood in a meadow as Ian checked the sword strapped across his back one more time. Knives hung from his belt and peeked out from his boots as well. He noticed Robert bristled with as much weaponry as he did.

"You would do the same for me." Robert's calm words shut Ian up. It was true and he didn't have an argument prepared for that.

The gloaming settled in, the deep shades of orange transforming into purple. The first star appeared overhead, then a Council member arrived before them. Ian didn't know if it was the same one until she spoke. "It's time. Are you both still prepared to go?"

They each answered, Ian shooting one last look at Robert before giving up on trying to convince him to stay. Robert was as proud a warrior as he was. Ian had no right to dishonor him by refusing his aid.

Light enveloped them both and Ian staggered a bit as a force tugged at his body.

"Don't fight the sensation," she said. "Relax and let the magic go."

Ian felt the chill of the wind upon his skin and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end from the cold. He hadn't felt those sensations in five hundred years.

Robert rubbed his arms, his mouth dropping open. "It's cold out here. I never realized what that really meant."

***

Otherworld, outside of mortal time

The light flashed around them and they came to stand on a barren strip of land, caught between a mountain and a forest. The sky gave off light but didn't have a sun hanging overhead. Ian reached out with his senses and felt the magic shimmering like a wall in the mountain's direction.