He could feel the cold steel of the blade against his skin, a chilling reminder of what he was about to do—what hewas willing to do in order to save Anna. He glanced at her. Her face was a mask of stricken terror.
“I love ye, Anna,” Emeric whispered, his eyes meeting hers in the silence that had fallen over the room. “Remember that, always.”
“Touching,” Maria snapped.
Her magic lashed out, proof that he’d guessed right and that she could not complete the ritual without him. He could feel it like tendrils of frost snaking around his wrist and attempting to pry his fingers open.
He snarled in defiance, struggling against her power. Resisting with all his might, he braced himself against the onslaught. His grip tightened on the hilt of the dagger even as Maria’s power fought to tear it away from him. His knuckles turned white under the strain; his muscles screamed in protest but he did not release his hold.
Then suddenly someone moved. Not Anna, still weak and woozy. Not Laird MacDonald, still unconscious. Not the priest, frozen by fear.
It was Duncan MacDonald.
He grabbed the heavy wooden cross from atop the altar and swung it with all his might. Straight at his grandmother.
Maria turned, but too late to fully dodge the incoming blow. The cross slammed into her shoulder, sending her staggering backwards. The spell around Emeric snapped. In one swift movement, he threw his dagger. It spun end over end, flashing in the sunlight, and buried itself up to the hilt in Maria’s chest.
She let out a strangled gasp, staggering backwards with a look of utter shock on her face. “No...” she whispered, hereyes wide with disbelief as she stumbled back a step, then two. She tried to pull the dagger out but hissed in pain as her fingers touched it. “Iron,” she hissed the word like a curse.
“Aye,” Emeric said. “Seems those wheezing old gasbags in the Order of the Osprey know their arses from their elbows after all. And they know what can kill a Fae.”
Maria turned to run. Duncan dropped the cross and lunged after her, but Maria’s form flickered like heat haze and then disappeared. The silence that followed was almost deafening. Everyone simply stared at where Maria had been standing.
The moment was broken by a low whistle from Duncan MacDonald. “Damn it. She was faster than I expected.”
“Where is she?” Anna asked.
“Gone,” Emeric replied. “And I doubt she’ll be coming back.”
Anna let out a whimper and staggered over to him. He wrapped his arms around her. Lord, it felt so good to hold her.
Duncan MacDonald gave him a lopsided smile. “Killing yerself? What kind of mad plan was that?”
“Any madder than betraying an Unseelie Fae?” he responded.
Duncan shrugged. “What can I say? I must have gotten tired of being on the wrong side. Perhaps I’m my mother’s son after all. She always hated the evil old bitch. And besides, I have friends in the Order of the Osprey to protect me now.” His gaze sharpened on Emeric. “Dinna I?”
Emeric studied him. He had never liked Duncan MacDonald but he knew the courage it must have taken to do what he’d just done. “Aye,” he said finally. “Ye do.”
Duncan sighed. “Good,” he said. “Because if she lives, I’ve just made a dangerous enemy.”
From outside came the thump of footsteps and the heavy wooden doors of the chapel burst open with an echoing crash. MacDonald guards burst through, weapons drawn.
“Arrest Laird MacDonald for treason,” said Duncan, stepping forward to meet his father’s men.
The guards faltered, glancing between Duncan and the unconscious Laird MacDonald lying on the floor.
“He tricked us into war with our neighbors and has led our clan to the brink of destruction! If ye wish to live, ye will arrest him and surrender to the Mackintosh!”
The leader of the guards snarled. “We swore oaths to yer father.”
Duncan stepped up, coming eye to eye with the man. “Ye swore oaths to clan MacDonald! The Mackintosh are in the castle! Do ye wish to die today? No? Then ye will arrest my father and then surrender! I have it on good authority that we will reach favorable peace terms.” He looked at Emeric. “Is that not right?”
“Aye,” Emeric said. “It is.”
The guard captain looked around, as if assessing his options. Then bowed to Duncan. “Aye, my lord.”
They hoisted Laird Alexander up and carried him out. Duncan followed but paused in the doorway. “I will see ye in the great hall to talk terms.” His gaze shifted to Anna. “Inever wanted this,” he said by way of apology. Then he strode after the guards, taking the near-hysterical priest with him.
