Malcolm shoved against the bench with the backs of his legs as he pushed himself to stand. “I’ve a long day ahead of me and no time for any more of yer nonsense. Either of you.”
With as much dignity as he could muster, he nodded to each of them in turn and headed for the door.
He almost made it.
“She’ll die if you don’t find her, you know. Out in this weather. Unprotected. She’s but an innocent, sent here because of you. It’s your conscience that will have to bear the burden of her death.”
Elesyria’s prediction froze his feet to the floor as surely as if the stones beneath him had turned to ice.
“What say you? Who’s this woman of whom you speak?” He forced the words past a tongue gone thick and dry, turning slowly as he spoke to stare at the witch who claimed to be his mother-in-law. “I have no knowledge of any woman. And certainly no responsibility for her.”
She shrugged her shoulders, a perfectly fabricated look of innocence spreading over her features. “I know not who she is, only that the Goddess was to send her here because of you. Perhaps as a test? Though I suppose it matters not, since she has little chance of survival out there.” She fluttered her hand vaguely in the direction of the wall. “I do wonder, though, how long she might hang on. Suffering. In the cold. Lost. With no food or water. No protection. No—”
“Enough!” Malcolm roared, unable to listen to any more of her guilt-baiting.
What if the things she said were possible? There had been a woman central to his troubled dreams. He remembered that much. Could it be that this Faerie had conjured someone? Someone she’d stranded in the wilderness to meet some horrible fate? But why would she . . .
Revenge!The word lanced through his heart on a shaft of guilt. Revenge for the part he played in her daughter’s fate. Revenge for his having failed to keep Isabella safe.
“Where do I find her?” He all but choked on the question.
Her lips thinned, all veneer of innocence gone. “I have no idea. It was you the Goddess chose to share that information with. Not me. Only you know the answer to that question.”
His stomach lurched even as his breath caught in his chest, the morning’s helpless distress rolling back over him full force. He could not stand by and allow another innocent woman’s death. And yet, his dreams had been a jumble of unintelligible scenes and sounds. He had no way of knowing where she might be . . . if she even existed.
“You spoke of a ring of stones. I have seen such a place on my rides. A half day’s journey north of here.”
Malcolm jerked his gaze up, his attention riveted by his brother’s claim. “You could find this spot again?” Patrick wandered on occasion, exploring the land for days at a time.
“Aye. I believe I can. If you think it’s possible . . .”
Patrick’s words hung in the silence between them, a siren call he had but to answer.
“It is possible,” Elesyria broke the silence. “A stone circle has power to us. I would deem it more than possible, in fact. I would deem it probable.”
It was settled then.
“We ride.”
Without a word, Patrick was at his side, keeping pace as they ran from the keep to ready their mounts.
His only concern now was whether or not he could reach this mystery woman in time.
Eight
HOURS ON HORSEBACKhad brought them well into the mountains and still Malcolm had found no sign of any ring of stones similar to what he’d seen in his dreams. His patience wore thin, his spirits as damp as the fine cold mist that stung his skin.
He wiped the moisture from his face, refusing to allow himself to brood over how much they could have used this weather a few months past. Instead he focused on their current quest.
“Are you sure we—”
“Yes,” Patrick cut in, “just over this ridge, in the valley below.
Malcolm nodded, instinctively tightening his thighs against his mount’s sides. The big horse’s steps quickened over the rough terrain, moving faster as if keeping pace with the growing sense of urgency bearing pressure in his chest.
At the top of the ridge he pulled up the reins. Below him, the valley lay shrouded in a gray blanket of fine rain, all but obscuring a copse of trees off to his right.
“The stone circle lies at the very heart of the grove. If we’re to believe the Elf, we should find her there.” Patrick pulled his horse to a stop soundlessly beside him.
