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“I have control of all the elements,” Rye said. As if on cue, a strong wind whipped around the cottage, whistling, screaming like a wounded animal. It died suddenly and completely a moment later.
“Telekinesis?”
“Like you?” A lamp, a book and a cup of tea floated around the room so smoothly not a drop of the tea was spilled.
All three items returned to their proper places. Cassidy didn’t twitch, didn’t so much as wiggle her little finger. There was no way for Doyle to know that she’d been the one to provide the demonstrations.
The man who had been a valued employee for eight months gave the idea some thought. Rye began to sweat. What if he turned down the offer? What if he still wanted Cassidy?
Without magic, could he save his daughter?
“We’ll do it at the stone circle,” Doyle finally said, edging toward the door. “If I don’t like what I become after I kill you I’ll continue as planned, with the girl.”
At least he was no longer lying about his intentions. Someone would die in the stone circle, and Doyle would become a formidable force in the magical world.
“Fine.” Rye followed.
He thought of Echo, wished he could reach out to her as he once had. But he was not the man she’d fallen in love with, and he was on his own.
At this moment, nothing mattered but Cassidy.
Chapter 25
Echo ran. Others had heard her words and followed, but they’d fallen far behind. She’d never run so fast. She’d never had reason to.
Gideon was hurt, but not seriously. She hadn’t had time to stop and tend to him, not after what she’d seen in the vision that had taken place as the people of Cloughban had fought for their home. Brigid had nodded at Echo, had all but dismissed her as she knelt down to tend to Gideon’s head. The final act of the last standing invading soldier—a short blonde with ears too big for her head—had been to conk Gideon on the back of the head with the iron skillet she’d taken from Maeve. Hope had stayed with her husband and the healer, and with an annoyed Maeve, who’d angrily snatched her skillet back from the wounded soldier. Gideon would be fine; he was being well cared for.
Echo’s place was with Ryder and Cassidy. Now and forever. They were her family as much as Gideon. She’d traveled around the world to find them...
The attack on Cloughban had been nothing but a distraction. She’d seen it in her vision, a vision which had once again come too late. Doyle. Doyle! She had never suspected him, not for a moment. The attackers had distracted the entire town from the real purpose on this day. Taking Cassidy.
She saw everything now. The pieces of the puzzle had finally come together. When he’d hired the soldiers to attack Cloughban, Doyle had promised them the magic they lacked. Four of them possessed a minor ability, three were entirely without magic. He’d promised to make them all Ansara wizards in his new order, to make them his trusted council when he ruled the magical world. Lies, all lies.
Doyle was desperate to rebuild what had once been a powerful, and evil, clan. With himself as Dranir.
He wanted Cassidy, wanted her amazing abilities for himself, but in Echo’s most recent vision it had not been Cassidy Doyle stabbed; it had been Ryder. The knife had slipped into his body. She’d felt his pain as if it were her own, had felt the warmth of his blood flowing out and down his body.
It started to snow again, fat flakes and icy bits of sleet falling in spurts. Around her, ahead of her, behind. She couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop it. The air turned frosty as big white flakes fell to the bright green grass and hung there for a moment before melting away.
She ran for what seemed like a very long time...had she missed it? Had she somehow passed the stone circle? The air turned colder, and the snow that fell did not melt away quickly. It clung to grass and rocks. Was she headed in the right direction? Was she too late? The sun had set. Soon it would be dark. She had no chance of finding Ryder and Cassidy once that happened.
Suddenly the way was lit with those sparkling lights she’d seen once before. Pink and yellow and blue and la
vender, those colorful lights twinkled against the snow in a slightly waving line that canted to the left. She could see that line all the way to the crest of the next hill. Fairies? Maybe, maybe not. Whatever they were, they had led her to the stones once before. She followed their lead.
The lights danced around her feet, broke apart and moved ahead as she ran. “Please take me to them,” she whispered, not knowing if whatever created the lights could hear her and understand. If she didn’t find Ryder and Cassidy, if she found them too late...how would she survive? They were hers. Hers to protect. Hers to save on this cold night.
She crested a gentle hill and finally, finally, saw the stones ahead. Tall and majestic and shimmering with power, they called to her in a way they had not before. She ran harder, all her focus on the stones. A few seconds later she saw the three standing there. Ryder and Doyle. Cassidy, standing close but not too close.
Doyle held his knife against Ryder’s side. Distracted by the unexpected and unnatural snow, he tipped his head and looked up. A few flakes landed on his face and he smiled. She read his lips as he looked at Ryder and asked, “You?”
“Yes,” Ryder answered. She was close enough to hear his voice when he added, “Get this over with. Do it now.”
Doyle chanted a few words she did not understand—so few words, not enough, not long enough, not enough time—and then the knife plunged deeply into Ryder’s body. Ryder fell; he dropped to the ground. Echo screamed. Cassidy screamed. The earth shook.
Just as in her vision, Echo felt the blade as if it had punctured her skin as well as Ryder’s, but she didn’t stop running. She didn’t even slow down. The sparkling lights that had led her here disappeared. They didn’t fade away; they were just suddenly gone.
Alerted by her scream, Doyle turned around and looked at her. And smiled. Murderer. Traitor.
