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“By God it is,” Duncan interrupts. “Quinn said my Clan is in there.”
“I’m not arguing that, MacGregor,” Dugald says. “But even if we save the castle, which is highly questionable, it won’t resolve the real problem. The darkness is free. It must be returned to its cage before the last light of the Tree of Life fades.”
“Or it’s all over,” I say.
“Yes,” Dugald says.
I place my hand on the book in its satchel. The spells in this book are powerful. Even touching the book warms my skin to the point of discomfort and the power of them calls me. Enticing, tempting me to use them all. Power that can reshape the world to my will.
More power than any one person should probably ever wield, and this is what my mom has been protecting in a mirror realm for most of my life. I look at her with a renewed sense of wonder and awe. She had this power while trapped and tortured, but never once did she give in to the temptation to use it. I can only hope I’m as strong as she was.
“How do I cast the spell?” I ask. “I know it, but where? When?”
Dugald shakes his head.
“I’d hazard to guess at the Tree itself, Quinn,” Mom says.
“I have to help at the Castle,” Duncan says. “I cannot let them fall.”
“I know,” I say, my heart swelling with pride and love while fear creeps through my belly.
“We cannot reach the Fae realms directly from here,” Dugald says. “We’ll need to return to earth to travel there.”
“Then we go through the mirror,” I decide and motion towards it.
No one argues and Duncan leads. He stops before stepping through, grabs my arm and pulls me in, then kisses me. His kiss tastes of resolve tinged with desperation. He’s not a fool; he knows what we’re up against.
“I love you, Quinn,” he says into my mouth. “Forever.”
“Live,” I command. “Live for me, Duncan.”
He breaks the kiss and his boyish grin lights up his face.
“They cannae kill a MacGregor that easily,” he says jauntily, then steps through the mirror.
He steps onto the hill looking out over the writhing horde of demonic creatures. No shirt, unarmed, but he stands tall and proud. The wind whips at his long hair, tossing it about and trying to lift his kilt.
Duncan looks around at the fallen bodies, both demonic and human, and then he strides ahead and kneels. When he stands, he has a sword and sheath, which he slips over his shoulder. I smile as he rushes ahead, heading for the castle and the army of monsters that are besieging it.
Dugald hesitates at the mirror, one hand on the frame. He looks down, then over his shoulder to me, a storm of emotions playing on his face.
“I am sorry, Quinn,” he says.
“For what?”
He shakes his head.
“You deserve better of me,” he says. “I love you. I always have and I always will. That does not give me any rights to jealousy or to put demands on you.”
It feels like a hammer slam onto my chest and my heart shatters. I put my hand on his face, cupping his smooth cheek.
“Dugald,” I whisper. “I know now. We will always love each other and that is so much more than what we do with these bodies.”
He nods and forces a smile.
“Aye,” he says, turning and stepping through the mirror without further words.
That’s my Dugald. Man of mystery and few words. Now there is only my mom and I left on this side. The swaying of the tower is so pronounced now it is almost making me motion sick. We don’t have much time, but Mom and I exchange a long look filled with all the unsaid things between us. She shakes her head, raises her shoulders and arms, then drops them back to her side.
