He snatched his sword from the floor, moved across the room, and started searching in a chest. He was tempted to kill her while he could, but according to the curse, if Wilona died, he'd remain a kelpie forever. He did not know the truth, but he would not risk it.
With a bang, a puff of smoke burst from the bed, and only the chain remained.
'Slud! She'd shifted. He glanced around. Where had she gone? Something black swooped toward his head. He ducked and peered at the ceiling. A bat.
"Cat, hurry. Wilona has shifted."
"This must be it!" Cat held up the flat, dark stone. She crammed it into a velvet pouch, and then into her satchel.
"Good. Come!" Torr ushered her down the stairs and along the corridor toward the shattered window. She climbed out first, her skirts snagging on the remaining glass shards. He released the material and followed. The bat fluttered out the window and dove toward his head. He flung a hand up and knocked the varmint into a bush. Once through the broken door, he grabbed Cat's hand, and they raced toward the wood.
Several hundred yards distant, they stopped, their breaths coming fast.
"Are they following?" Cat asked.
"Nay, but they will."
Still breathing hard, she held a hand to her side. Her vivid blue eyes shone with excitement, and a wee grin appeared. "'Twas fun."
Was the lass daft? "'Tis nay fun to be a witch's target. It can be catastrophic. And I should've never trusted Finnian's damnable chain to work. She escaped it."
Cat's smile vanished, and he regretted his harsh words. Indeed, he loved her smile and wanted to see it more often.
"Well, Sir Dark and Gloomy, it worked long enough for us to find the keek-stane and escape with it."
Did she always have to be right?
"Indeed," he admitted. "Come. We must travel back to Blacktower on foot." He wouldn't shift into a kelpie until that night.
"We should've borrowed their horses."
"I'll nay be accused of horse thievery. Come, get on my back."
"What?" She scowled. "You're a human."
"I can still carry you."
"I'm fully capable of walking. I'm nay a delicate flower." She sounded petulant and still vexed with him.
"But we need to get well ahead of the two brigands. Can you run for miles over the moor this day?" he asked.
She shrugged. "Probably not miles, but I can run a short distance."
He pointed to his back. "Climb up."
"Very well, but you will soon find out how heavy I am."
He snorted, crouched, and helped her onto his back. "Oh aye, you're as weighty as a robin." Once she was in position with her arms around his shoulders, he put his hands under her legs to hold her in place. Trotting forward, he increased his speed.
In truth, she was almost as light as a wee bird. Besides, his kelpie strength made him about two or three times stronger than a regular warrior.
After a few miles, Cat said into his ear, "You must be exhausted."
"Nay. I could run another twenty miles."
"Are you hungry?"
"Of course not."
