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In response, he slammed her to the floor with a blaze of mage energy pulled from some hidden recess of knowledge. Held her there.
She glared up at him, loathing visible in the strained muscles of her neck, her white, bitter features as she lunged for the weapon.
He tore the dagger from her hand. Touched it to her throat. “Will you surrender all for vengeance? Máelodor’s got the tapestry. All he needs is the stone and Arthur will be his.”
Her mage energy battered at him like a hurricane tide, and only his newfound battle-magic kept him on his feet and dead-steady.
“If St. John and Máelodor succeed in starting this war, it’s the end of the Other.”
He saw her mind chewing over his words.
“The Duinedon are too numerous. Too strong. They’ll slaughter you all.”
Her spells eased. Just enough so his every breath didn’t come laced with broken glass. He used the respite for one last appeal. “What do you stand to lose?”
A tense moment followed, suspicion vivid in her gaze. Finally, she spoke through a hissed indrawn breath. “What’s your proposal?”
He pulled her to her feet. “Aid me. If I’m wrong, I’ll accept any punishment the Amhas-draoi mete out.”
“And if you’re speaking truth?”
Scathach. Warrior goddess. Head of the Order of Amhas-draoi. True Fey.
A thought hit him like a blow. A flash of inspiration. “Scathach sends me back.”
“You want her to—”
“Kill me. Aye.”
She raked him with a long prescient look. “So right or wrong, you end with what you want.”
He thought of Sabrina. The damaged memories she’d loosed. Of her. And him. And a past that could never have happened. The fragile dreams she’d evoked. Of the two of them. And a future that would never be theirs.
“Do I?”
She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she strode to the window. Looked out on the night for long quiet minutes. When she turned back, her face held a frightening and grim determination. “You have a deal. I’ll see what I can find out. But you must do something for me.”
“Go on.”
“Help me find Douglas.”
“If the Amhas-draoi haven’t found him in seven years, what makes you think I can?”
“Simple.” She lifted a brow in coy s
uggestion. “Ask Lady Sabrina.”
Aha! Just where the clerk told her it would be. Sabrina pulled the book from the lending library’s shelf as Jane appeared from the next aisle over.
“Have you found what you were looking for?”
Sabrina held up her one fat volume in answer: A Full History of Wales As Recounted by a Most Learned Professor and Traveler of That Fine Country.
The title had been squashed onto the spine in a font so tiny one needed a magnifying glass to make it out.
Jane cocked her head. Grimaced. “Yikes. Trouble sleeping?”
Did she ever.
