Page 51 of Darro

Chapter Fourteen

Inside the hidden passage he’d taken from the forge to the great hall, Rory waited and listened. He could hear others moving around inside the big chamber, but none of them spoke. As quietly as he could he went to the stairs that led up to the blind that Lady Ava used to watch meetings between the laird and the MacBren.

Below in the hall, clansmen, vassals and some of the outsiders milled about, sometimes bumping into each other as they searched the hall. A maid tore down a tapestry, which fell over her, and continued to search although she couldn’t see anything. More enchanted males and females filed in, but once they saw the others they turned about and left again.

He stiffened as he sensed someone come up swiftly behind him, only to relax again when Torra MacBren’s spirit swirled around to hover before him. She only took possession of his body to permit him to rest without allowing him to talk in his sleep; this to protect the stronghold from the lethal power of his voice. Now, however, she merely floated in front of him, or perhaps she too was looking down at the spectacle of the mindless searchers.

Rory stretched out his hand in invitation, and the mist engulfed it. At once Torra began speaking in his head.

Your brothers and vassals, they’ve been bitten by enchanted spiders. The poison in their venom, ’twas altered so they might turn mortals and immortals into zed. They’ve bitten nearly everyone in the stronghold now. I locked Chieftain Darro and his lady in the solar to protect them as I tried to find Lady Grace. The healer and his husband, they’ve barricaded themselves in his workshop along with a maid. Some watchers and guards that escaped the garrison hall before the creatures found them now stand atop the tower roofs and put to the torch the spiders who climb up there.

For what do they search? Rory asked.

My spirit. Bodach came inside the spell trap in the guise of a mortal, and commands the zed to find me.

He thought quickly. If the enemy took Torra into himself, he could then remove her from the spell trap, take her power and use it to possess another immortal body, leaving his true form as an empty shell. All he would need to do then was break the enchantment, allow the backlash to destroy his original body, and then flee the mortal realm for Elphyne.

Can you come into me, lass, but permit me retain control of my thoughts and body?

Aye, but ’tis different when you sleep. If I stay more than an hour your spirit shall be forced out by my presence. Then you shall truly perish, Armorer.

I trust you, Torra MacBren. Come then. Rory spread his arms as her spirit surrounded him, and then sank into his flesh.

While asleep he never became aware of the spirit coming into and possessing his body; as she entered him he endured a wrenching torment unlike any he’d known. It seemed as if another form had been planted inside him, and now stretched and grew into his limbs and head. He became aware of just how ancient her spirit was, and the potency of her magic. Torra could end him with one thought, and inhabit his immortal body forever without anyone being the wiser.

I dinnae betray my friends, nor steal bodies. When ’tis time to part from you, I shall go without complaint or regret. Just as your lady màthair did.

She knew everything about him, Rory realized, as she was inside his mind as well as his body. She could see all his memories stretching back to the very beginning of his existence; she understood exactly who and what he was. That was like taking a blow from one of Chomha’s murderous kin, who liked to carve the heart out of a victim’s chest and hold it over an altar to the dark gods while it yet beat before they burned it.

Apologies, lass. At least she was not screaming in horror. I never wished anyone to discover the truth of my bloodline, or what ’tis made of me.

You’ve fought long and well, Armorer. You’ve made a man of yourself, ’tis all. I see naught you should ever regret. Now, we must go up and help those on the rooftop. Can you find the path there from here, or shall I guide you?

I ken the way. When Rory stood, however, weakness came over him like a cold fever, and his legs shook with the effort of straightening. How much longer can you remain with me?

No’ as long as I reckoned, Torra admitted.

He trotted through the hidden passages, stumbling now and then before reaching the panel that allowed him to access the watch tower. He opened it just enough to look out and see one of the patrol captains using a torch to burn a stream of tiny black spiders that were pouring through a crack. Rory stepped out, took down another torch and went to help him burn the creatures, which glowed reddish gold before trickling like molten pitch down the stone wall.

“They’re everywhere,” the captain told him. “My lads, they’re atop the roof. We stand watch in turns and burn those that try to come in.”

“The spiders, they’ve no’ yet found their way into the hidden passages.” Rory came out of the tower room in time to see Darro and Esme hurrying toward them. “Call your lads down, Captain. We’ve another battle to fight.”

Bodach stretched lazily as he reclined in the big, throne-like chair in the laird’s chamber. Mirry had been right; the enchantment was too busy to kick him out. Finding the bottle of very old cognac in the kitchens had been his reward for his patience; the stuff tasted like Louis the Thirteenth without the sixty-thousand-dollar a bottle price tag. The primitive food here could hardly do it justice, but he’d take pleasure from that as well. For now he was king of this place, and it was oddly satisfying.

Just call me Laird Bodach.

There was a great deal to be happy about now. His latest scheme had worked, and his very helpful new army would soon find Torra MacBren’s hiding place and capture her in one of the soul globes he’d enchanted and distributed to his zed. Then he would gobble her up like a tasty meal and walk out through the barrier with nothing more to fear for the remainder of his existence. Just thinking of how easy it would be to conquer the light and dark Fae courts made him chuckle and take another sip of cognac.

“You shall never prevail over my brothers,” a tired voice said.

Bodach looked up to see Laird Tasgall McKeran carrying a soul globe. He approached with the shuffling steps and slack-jawed visage of a zed, but eyes that burned with awareness. For a moment the sight made him uneasy, for under the sway of the spell, the Scotsman should never have been capable of any act but what Bodach had commanded of him.

“My dear laird, you surprise me again. How are you able to speak to me?” He thought for a moment. “Ah, that’s right, your mother was that officious little slut who chased after Keran like a rock star groupie. How many of you did she spawn while she was his whore? I cannot recall.”

The big man stood powerless, his gaze seething with loathing. “’Tis snowing outside. Winter has arrived three moons early, and the days and nights are speeding out of order. Your spell, ’tis unraveling. How shall the magic come back to you when ’tis shattered, Goblin? You’ll possess no time for more games with us when you face such fury.”

“Thank you for worrying about me, my lord,” Bodach said, wishing he could kill something in this godforsaken place by thought instead of fire. “Once I acquire my treasure, I shall return to conquer Elphyne and destroy your miserable realm.”