Page 60 of Fletcher

The shape shifter returned to the upper deck, slamming the hatch shut behind her. As soon as they were alone, Fletcher put Lark on her feet and cradled her face, seeing that the head wound was only minor and her eyes appeared clear.

She brought up her hand between them. “I couldn’t get the ring to budge, but she just snatches it away?”

“’Tis her Fae power,” he said, glancing at the place where the ring had once been. He took her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. “We shall get away, I promise you. Mayhap you can–”

“I’ve already tried,” she said softly. “I can’t lift anything.”

Chapter Nineteen

Lark’s head throbbed miserably as she sat down on the stained floor of the cage. The entire hold stank of vomit and something like rotted meat, and she didn’t want to think about why that was. When Fletcher joined her, she put her head in his lap and looked up at him, glad that for once she didn’t have to deal with the jinx alone. Then she saw the weariness in his expression and wondered if he was blaming his curse for their situation.

She took hold of his hand, clasping it between hers to warm it. “It’s okay. Maybe it will come back.”

“No’ in here.” He reached out to tap the grate, which shimmered with a faint yellow glow for a moment. “’Tis been bespelled to null all other Fae power.”

That wasn’t good news. “When we don’t return, how long will it take before the clan starts looking for us?”

“No’ until the morrow.” He stroked his fingers over her hair. “Without my weapons or your power, ’tis no escape for us, lass. The Cait Sith shallnae waste the chance to discover where they may find the island.”

“I know.” She kissed his knuckles. “I’m really not looking forward to the torture.”

“When the shifter returns, and we dinnae tell her how she may find Caladh, she shall slay us, and drink our blood. ’Twill give her our memories, which she cannae take if we’re already dead.” He drew up his knee, making the chains of the manacle rattle, and drew out a short dagger hidden in the heel. “’Tis easy, opening a vein.”

Lark wanted to cry, but something in the way he was looking at her made her almost happy. “You’ll need to do that for me, too.”

He nodded, and pulled her up into his arms. “’Twill hurt but a moment, I promise you.”

“I’m not afraid to die this time,” she said, pressing her lips to his cheek before she drew back. “Whatever happens next, I hope we’ll always be together. I love you.”

The small knife suddenly flew out of his hand and sailed across the hold, burying itself in a wall.

“How touching.” A tall, dark-haired woman glided out of the shadows, approaching the cage in the same sinuous way a snake glided across the earth. “Even in the face of your doom, you MacMar spout such deceptive gallantries. You offer to kill the woman you love as if you’re giving her a gift, when all you really want is to prevent my shifters from taking her knowledge of your wretched little island.”

“Derdrui,” Fletcher muttered, his expression darkening as he rose.

Lark had never seen a more beautiful, menacing woman. Her dark coloring made her appear as if she’d been created from shadows, but the perfection of her features seemed almost angelic. When she looked into the woman’s eyes, she saw nothing but greed and emptiness, as if what she wanted in that moment was all that would ever matter to her.

“Do not even think to challenge me, you halfling idiot.” The enchantress smiled at him before she crouched down to regard Lark. “Your man here shall not bargain with me, so I will make the offer to you. Tell me where Caladh is located, and I shall set you free.”

The laugh that came from Lark sounded wonderful.

“Lady, please. You’ll torture and kill me no matter what I tell you.” She used Fletcher’s hand to steady herself as she stood. “My guy will break my neck before he lets you touch me. As to what he’s going to do to you and your shifters…” She grimaced. “You captured the one MacMar who has a bad temper, and a terrifying Fae power. He can lift whole islands out of the sea and into the air. The moment he steps outside this cage, you’re all going to die. Badly, I’m afraid.”

The enchantress drew back a step, and then hissed something in a strange language before she climbed up, shoved the hatch open, and stepped out. “Speal, where are you?”

Fletcher waited until the hatch closed again before he eyed her. “I’ve that terrifying Fae power?”

“You don’t know how to lie with the truth? Besides, you’re the immortal who’s hard to kill.” She wanted to laugh again, but decided against it. “I can’t believe she fell for it. What a moron.”

“Derdrui shall soon return, and the knife, ’twas my last weapon,” he said. “I may break your neck, and so I shall that I may spare you suffering at their hands. but killing a MacMar, ’tis damnably difficult.”

“We go with Plan A, then. We convince them to take us up on deck, which will get us out of this cage, and I’ll use my power to lift us off the boat and drop us on Ronalsee.” She curled her arms around his waist. “Or we jump over the side, I drown, and you stay underwater and swim back to Caladh with my body. I’d like to be buried somewhere pretty, by the way.”

Fletcher kissed her brow before he looked into her eyes. “You’re truly no’ afraid to die.”

“This is how I can help you protect the clan. I’d rather go than see these weirdos attack the island and kill everyone there.” Suddenly the cage around them began crackling with yellow light, and a small puddle of water appeared on the deck by Fletcher’s boot.

The water contracted, turning silver and green, and formed itself into a solid circle.