“And don’tyouthink it’s up to the people of the Isles to decide what they want?”
Phillip shook his head. “Ye are as stubborn as Jamie, ye know that?”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She met his eyes. Cold, calculating blue. No warmth. No remorse. “You know Jamie will come for me.”
“Oh, I know,” Phillip said softly. “In fact, I’m counting on it. He’s been integral to my plans from the start. A pity he turned out to be so stubborn. A pity he had his head turned by a woman from the future he can never have. All this would have been so much easier if he’d just signed that damned marriage contract.”
Her chest tightened. Jamie. What would happen when he returned to Dun Mallach and found her missing? What if he thought she was dead?
“What do you want with me?”
Phillip crossed the chamber and crouched so their eyes were level. “I want what I have always wanted,” he said quietly. “Stability. Order. A future for our people. War is coming. Ulster threatens invasion. But now we have the weapon we need to keep them at bay.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh, I think ye know. I didnae recognize what ye were at first. I thought ye just another spellweaver like yer sister and niece. But after ye blasted the king’s ships that day out on the water? Well, I began to suspect then. The shield you cast on Barra? Remarkable. Crude, untutored—but powerful. With ye by our side, Ulster willnae stand a chance.”
“You’re crazy,” she snapped. “I’ll never help you.”
Phillip gave a long, weary sigh, as though she were being painfully naive. “I hoped ye wouldnae force this ugliness, Elise. Truly.”
He rose and crossed to the window shutters, pushing one open. Gray daylight slashed across the room. Then he pulled her roughly to her feet and dragged her over to the window. She was back in Dun Arach, in a tower room by the looks of it. The courtyard lay below her window.
People were lined up there. Or, more accurately,prisonerswere lined up there. Elise recognized Jamie’s men, Albie among them. They were bound, bruised, shoved to their knees by Phillip’s guards. At least a dozen. Maybe more.
Elise’s heart lurched. “What have you done to them?”
“Nothing,” Phillip replied. “Yet.” He rested a hand lightly on the shutter, almost contemplative. “But if ye refuse to help…” He shrugged. “Those men will pay the price.”
“You bastard,” she hissed. “Those are innocent men.”
“They are prisoners of war,” Phillip replied. “But ye dinna have to be responsible for their deaths as long as ye cooperate.”
Elise squeezed her eyes shut. This was a nightmare. How had it come to this?
Phillip’s voice softened. “Elise, this doesnae have to be painful. Ye could do so much good. Think of yer power—truly think of it. A War Weaver could save hundreds, perhaps thousands, from the coming war.”
She opened her eyes. “Don’t you dare pretend this is noble,” she hissed. “You betrayed Jamie. Betrayed your own people. And you want me to help you? Help the king subjugate the Isles?”
Phillip’s expression hardened. “I want ye to help stop a war. The Isles are already lost—they just dinna know it yet. Jamie is clinging to old loyalties and childish dreams of defiance.”
Her teeth clenched. “You underestimate him.”
“No.” Phillip’s eyes were cold. “I understand him perfectly. But understanding doesnae change reality.”
She barked a laugh—brittle, disbelieving. “Even if I agree to help you, I can’t. I can’t control it. Half the time it doesn’t even work.”
“Because ye havenae been taught properly.”
He walked past and picked up a satchel from the floor beside the door and tossed it over.
Elise glanced from it to Phillip and back again. “What is this?”
“Take a look.”
Elise opened the satchel. It was filled with books. There were at least half a dozen thick volumes bound in leather and even more rolled scrolls tied carefully with red ribbon.
“I know ye found these in my study,” Phillip said, “despite my efforts to hide them. That is everything I’ve been able to uncover over the years concerning MacFinnan spellweavers.” His gaze sharpened. “Including War Weaving.”
