Page 58 of Alec

Chapter Fifteen

In the colorless version of Dun Talamh Ava stood unmoving, but not from the paralysis of the glassy shroud encasing her in the waking world. She was no longer in Tasgall’s arms; she couldn’t see her husband anywhere. Here she wore a bleached version of her gown and boots, which made sense in a strange way. She could see others also turned to icy statues everywhere around her; the sculleries, Doon, even the guards who had been barricading the entries into the stronghold—but the man she loved more than life had vanished.

Hell is whiter than snow.

She watched the colorless scene around her, slowly turning her head this way and that until she spotted a dark silhouette sitting on top of the inner curtain wall. It wasn’t Tasgall, but a fair-haired girl waving her hand. She stood up as if she meant to jump off the other side of the wall, and then seemed to disintegrate, blowing away as if she’d been made of nothing but colored ash.

A big hand curled around hers. “I’m here, my lady raven.”

Ava glanced up at her husband, who appeared out of nowhere. He was wearing white versions of his tunic, tartan and trews. Hugging and kissing him were her next priorities, but she couldn’t seem to move very fast.

“I think everyone is here, except Alec and Olivia.” She tucked her arm through his. “We should keep moving as long as we can.”

Tasgall led her back into the stronghold, passing the vassals slowly working in the kitchens and down the passage into the great hall. There Farlan was herding the maids and guards into some sort of circle dance, although they appeared to be moving as if under water.

“My lord.” The seneschal walked slowly over to them. “My lady. I fear we’re trapped in another place.”

“It’s like a white-washed RenFaire,” Ava said, nodding.

“’Tis a dream,” the laird told him. “We’re safe for a time, I reckon.”

Even their voices were slowing down, she thought, and then saw a cloaked clansman walking rapidly past an arch. “Rory, wait.”

The moment she said his name he turned his head, lifted a hand as if to stop her from looking at him, and a halo of greenish-brown light appeared around him. Suddenly she could move freely again—as could Tasgall and Farlan, judging by their swift, startled reactions. They all looked at the armorer, who changed direction to come into the hall and join them.

“Forgive me, my lord, Seneschal, my lady.” He sketched a quick bow. “I only just arrived, and I cannae stay long with you.”

“Did you do this?” Ava asked, gesturing around them. “Or was it Torra MacBren?”

“Neither, my lady. ’Twas enchanted creatures hatched here in the spell trap. They’ve frozen our bodies and sent our spirits here. ’Tis a trap within a trap, meant to keep us from the first.” He glanced down at his white garments. “I’m looking for the matriarch beetle, the first that came into the trap, so I countered the freezing spell cast over me for a time.”

“For a time?” Tasgall echoed.

“I cannae match the power of the enchantment used to create the golach. Forgive me, but I must hurry now.” Rory bowed again and rushed off, moving so quickly he was gone before the laird could utter another word.

Ava touched her husband’s arm. “Let him go. He’s looking for a way to help us.”

“We should do the same while we can still move easily,” the laird said, and then regarded Farlan. “Seneschal, check any place you reckon this matriarch may be on the first and second level. My lady and I shall begin with the solar garden and make our way down.”

Tasgall didn’t say anything more until they had climbed up to the very top of the stronghold, where he stepped in front of her and inspected the view from the landing.

“If the mama beetle is white, too, we likely won’t find her soon,” she told him.

He turned around and embraced her. “I ken, but we must try. If Alec and Olivia fail–”

“They won’t. I think Rory is buying them time by whatever it is he’s really doing.” Ava stepped back. “Why don’t we start in the solar?”

Her husband escorted her into the glass-walled atrium, one of the features of Dun Talamh that had spontaneously appeared quite recently. The walls and garden now appeared white, just like everything else at the castle. Ava had inspected the hot house before now, but with all the plants turned the same color it appeared very different. This time she could clearly see the architectural features, which included four fountains, several benches and a large round circle of wood hemmed by flowering shrubs that normally would have hidden it from view.

“What’s that there?” she asked her husband and pointed to the circle.

“I cannae tell you,” he admitted. “I never noticed the thing before now.”

She went over, crouched down, and lifted one edge of the wood, allowing a puff of steam to escape. When she pushed it up higher and stood she uncovered what appeared to be a sunken hot tub made of the same wood, just large enough for two people, with one long bench seat beneath the water. The hot water that filled it came from a smaller version of Ben’s pipes, only this one had been made of wood as well.

“’Tis a bath.” Tasgall looked perplexed. “Healer never improved the solar.”

“It’s like a hot tub from my time.” Ava closed her eyes and searched through her memories until she recalled the last time she had heard that phrase.