Page 60 of Dorchad

“I must learn what the MacRune know of the cluet,” the man said in a very different voice. “You will tell Umbraen all that you know, mortal. Now.”

She blinked against the grit in her eyes as the man’s boots turned shiny black and grew tiny, bristling silver spikes. They resembled the war master’s strange, prickly trousers, so Rebecca guessed Umbraen was also dark Fae. When she glanced up, the last rays of sunlight coming in showed that his garments had changed from the rough tunic and trews worn by the local men to a fitted, gleaming cat suit of red-streaked ichorous green. A black object like a codpiece with fangs covered his genitals, which bulged out under it, forming a tongue shape. Looking at his face made bile surge into her throat, as he'd disguised himself behind a grotesque mask with monstrous features, as if he were playing a boar-faced demon with huge curling tusks.

Rebecca’s whole body tensed as she realized that his cat suit was actually his skin, and the mask his real face.

“What would you like to know?” she asked, proud of how calm she sounded.

The dark Fae monster bent over, seizing her by the neck and shoving her against a stack of hay bales. “Did the clan find the rag? Do they now use it to wish back you females from other times? Where do they keep it?”

“I don’t know what to tell you.” Rebecca could hardly get the words out, his hold on her neck was so tight. She knew he’d probably kill her no matter what she said, too, so she would use her last moments to protect Dorchad and his clan. “I’ve never seen the thing you’ve described.”

“You lived among them,” he said, tightening his grip. “You saw what they did each day. Tell me where they searched.”

She tried to speak, but now she couldn’t get any air. When he finally loosened his hold she wheezed, “You’re mistaken. The MacRune kept me locked up.”

“You lie. The laird’s second beats you and uses you for his pleasure.” He let her slide down until her boots touched the ground, and then moved closer, breathing his hot, fetid breath into her face. “He made that plain on the night the queen came.”

Rebecca thought of that terrifying interlude that she and Dorchad had barely escaped with their lives. “So he did.”

“Does he not whisper his clan’s secrets to you?” Umbraen persisted.

She almost laughed at him. “The chieftain uses me as his bed wench. The fact that I enjoy it doesn’t mean he cares for me. He hates women, and would sooner confide in his horse.” She was about to say he should ask around about Dorchad, but she didn’t want to put other mortals in danger. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”

The dark Fae shook her until her teeth chattered. “You must know something about the treasure. Tell me all, now, or I shall slay you.”

The way he shouted that at her told Rebecca that her life would soon be over. For some reason she didn’t regret that, although she wished she could have spent more time with the man who frustrated her and confused her and made her happier than she had ever been.

Dorchad is the love of my life. I’m so lucky I was brought back to this time so I could meet him. He’s everything.

“You’re going to kill me anyway. Do it.” She closed her eyes. “Then go back to the hell that spawned you, because the clan will never give you what you want, you evil, ugly fiend.”

That earned her a hard clout from his enormous fist, which knocked her down to her hands and knees. She rolled over in time to avoid a kick from his spiked boots, but when she tried to scramble up he seized her and tossed her across the barn.

“You dare defy me.” Umbraen loomed over her, and bent down to grab the scarf around her neck. His hairy ears pricked forward but then swiveled in near circles as his gaze flicked to the barn door. “An intruder.” He glared down at her, tightening the cloth around her neck. “Time to end you.”

He looped the scarf around twice before lifting her by it. That made Rebecca instinctively claw at the fabric as he hung her from one of the hooks dangling from the rafters. Her body weight tightened the noose of fabric around her neck, cutting off her air and making her head pound with an ominous urgency.

This is how my life ends here, she thought dully as she stopped struggling, and saw the dark Fae monster change back into a woodsman before her vision darkened to black.

As her life faded, Rebecca thought of Dorchad smiling, and surrendered to her fate. She had lived, and she had traveled through time. She would always be grateful that she’d had the chance to keep living instead of dying at the hands of the hospital shooter. If only she hadn’t left her grandparents behind in her time, for they would torture themselves over her disappearance for the rest of their lives.

They dinnae do such, lass.

Rebecca found herself standing in the dark gray place where she had first seen her fate, but this time she was watching her grandparents walking through a familiar cemetery. They both looked much older as they stopped at her parents’ headstone, but instead of two names engraved on it, there were now three.

When she read the third name her throat tightened. “Why is my name on there?”

’Twas necessary for them to believe you died with your sire and màthair, the cluet told her. Else your vanishing should end their timelines too soon.

“So you stole me from their memories, and altered the grave.” It should have comforted her, but Rebecca grew furious. “How can you do things like that without any consequences?”

I shall suffer for eternity for my transgressions, child, I assure you. Now I must restore the balance.

To keep from seeing her grandparents in that cemetery Rebecca closed her eyes, and suddenly was thrown through time and space, tumbling through the darkness. When she finally stopped she arrived at a place so fantastic and horrific it seemed to crowd inside her head, too vivid and unbelievable and yet completely real.

It seemed to be an endless hall made of black rock and red crystal, the high walls seemingly growing out of the ground instead of having been built. A dozen fountains of inky black water sprayed from the bone-white floor high into the air, spattering the giant ruby crystals of an enormous chandelier, which cast its crimson light on everything. Out of crevices on the walls, small, shadowy creatures looked out, their big yellow eyes with vertical or horizontal slits, and flicked the air with black, slimy tongues. Giant spiders the size of basketballs skittered across the mirrored ceiling, each one radiating black snakelike tendrils of power.

Rebecca turned her head as two carved black stone doors opened and dozens of naked males walked into the hall. She drew back as they passed in front of her, afraid to look at them and yet more afraid not to.