Page 34 of Her Highland Destiny

The men surrounding her glided forward, so quickly she almost didn’t have time to stop them. She drew all the force of her strength, unrestrained for the first time in her life, and enhanced with the force of the stone. Her fist connected with the first one and arced onward, to the second, the third, the fourth, and fifth. The men were launched into the air and landed nearly ten feet away from her. Three rose, two did not.

In fact, two were no longer there.

Cassandra crouched to the ground and splayed her open hands over the stonework there. She pushed her energy out and let it connect with the earth. The building groaned and dust sifted from the rafters. The flagstones underfoot trembled, a low vibration first before growing to a rattle. An unseen force wrapped around her. Squeezing, squeezing, squeezing, like a giant fist. The air crackled.

Magic.

She gritted her teeth and shot upward, breaking through the invisible hold. She put her hand to the floor and it rumbled violently. Deep fissures cut into the ground and jagged outward like the rays of a sun.

Something dark flew at her, but she deflected the advance of a soldier with the shift of her forearm. Another came at her so quickly, she was forced to lift her other arm. When the third came at her, she had no more arms. The man struck her in the face full force. She rocked backward and the grip of magic closed around her once more.

“Kill her,” the king snarled in the distance. “But get that damn necklace first.”

Cassandra flexed her body with the exertion of energy and ripped through the shell of magic. This time she focused her attention on the witch. Cassandra wrenched a clawed hand upward. Green vines snaked from the cracked floor and slithered toward Lachina. The woman backed up, but there were more coming from behind.

Lachina swept her palm outward, fighting the stone’s strength with magic. Some vines shrank back, but still others crept forward. Fergus staggered as the force keeping him held fell away, and ran toward Cassandra.

She vaguely heard his hoarse cry call her name, but she could not let her attention fix on him. Not when she had a very potent witch to contend with. A witch who was losing the battle.

A soldier cracked his fist against Cassandra’s head. She rocked, briefly acknowledging the pain of the strike. Sweat beaded on her brow as she fought the resistance from the witch and kept the vines racing onward. They had spiraled up the woman’s red skirt and twisted about her waist.

Another guard darted at Cassandra and swept his leg against the back of her knees while yet another still threw a solid kick directly into the center of her chest. Pain exploded at her breastbone and stole the breath from her lungs.

Her connection to the earth faltered for a brief moment and the vines shrank back.

Yet another man moved behind her in a blur of motion. He clutched her shoulders and jerked her backward. Cassandra lost her footing and connected with the hard ground.

In that brief moment, before she could suck in a deep inhalation to clear her mind, the soldiers were on her. Their black chain mail moved about with a speed that made them no more possible to capture than wisps of smoke. Brutal hands turned her over and jerked her arms back. She snatched her limbs back and leapt deftly to her feet.

She would not go down so easily.

The breath wheezed from her chest, each one as painful as though she drew in fire instead of air. Blood dotted the floor at her feet and a swirling in her head told her the strike to her temple had done some damage.

The stone may have imbued her with strength, but it did not increase the durability of her mortal body. Even with the soldiers charging at her, the witch was the greatest threat.

Cassandra swept her hand and drew all the breathable air toward her in a rush. The men coughed and choked, their magic as unprepared for the inability to breathe as her ability had been against protecting her from strikes.

Cassandra shoved her hands toward Lachina who wrestled with the vines still locked over her shins. The stone burned against Cassandra’s chest, but she ignored it and let all of herself be consumed with its strength. It blazed through her like the light of the stars and the moon and the sun all at once. White flooded her vision and streaked from her fingertips.

Her throat rasped with a scream and the vines redoubled their effort until they had wrapped the witch completely. They coiled over her shoulders, her throat, her face, the top of her head, and then she was nothing more than a writhing mass of rapacious vines pulsing and flexing around her.

The surge calmed and pulled with it the unnatural strength. Cassandra staggered back and gasped in a burning breath. The air whooshed back into the room.

“Dinna stop, ye fools.” The king’s impatience pitched into something of a shriek. “I want that bloody stone now.”

A soldier flew at her, but not in attack. He skidded over the floor before coming to a stop inches from her feet and fading. Another figure rushed in front of her, the movements slower, more natural. Fergus. He was at her side. His dark eyes met hers and he held out his left hand, his less dominant one when fighting.

They always were stronger together.

Cassandra placed her palm in his and the energy between them surged anew.

Fergus hadn’t realized how badly Cassandra had been wounded. Not until he touched her and was slammed by the wave of pain rolling toward him. Still, he kept his alarm guarded from her awareness. Though her body was badly battered, and her energy flagging, he sensed in her a determination that would not be stopped. Fear would only minimize her skills.

Damn Lachina for having kept him captive by her magic, away from the fighting. It had been torture watching her take hits he could have prevented. The fight had been unfair – until now.

He shared his ability with Cassandra, allowing her to see the intended movements of their foes at a speed she could match. The breath rasped from her mouth, but her strikes were sure and lethal. With hands clasped tight, the two of them fought side-by-side, talents and efforts combined.

The soldiers had lost the advantage of magic. One by one they fell beneath the power and the skill afforded to Cassandra and Fergus by the stone. Every now and then, a soldier might get in a punch or a kick, for it was impossible to block so many coming at once.