Chapter Seven
Two weeks later
Near Albany, New York
“What’s he doing?” Tavis asked, watching as the Seeker knelt down and put his face near the ground. Frustration sharpened his tone. They had arrived in America later than they had planned. It had taken them longer than expected to hunt down one of the demons. Then, a storm had delayed the trip. Once here, they had tracked Faelan from New York City to Albany and then on to a horse farm where he had taken a job. He hadn’t been seen for a couple of days, but his horse—which from its description bore a striking resemblance to Nandor—had been found wandering nearby.
“Checking the tracks.” Quinn Douglass moved closer, studying the ground.
It had rained recently, and the muddy field was covered with the tracks of men and horses. As if a battle had been fought, Tavis thought, his battle marks tingling. If Faelan had already battled Druan, where was he?
“Something’s wrong,” his father whispered. “We should have found him by now.”
Simon, a big black man with a bald head and sharp eyes, was one of the most powerful Seekers the clan had. The Council had sent their best. With all the warnings from the Watchers and worry over Faelan’s assignment to a second ancient demon, the Council wasn’t taking any chances.
After a moment, the Seeker lifted his head. Tavis waited for him to turn, but he continued to stare at the ground.
“Did you find something?” his father asked.
“There’s a time vault buried here,” the Seeker said.
Tavis frowned. “You think Faelan buried Druan?” Time vaults weren’t buried. They were returned to Michael.
The Seeker turned, and when Tavis saw the blank look on Simon’s face, he knew the news was bad. “It’s not a demon inside.”
“What?” his father asked, his face ashen.
A dull roar filled Tavis’ ears.
Seekers were always focused and calm. They had to be. But Simon’s hands trembled. “Faelan’s talisman is inside.”
A stunned silence met the Seeker’s announcement. The small group stared at him as the meaning of his words sunk in.
Tavis saw his father’s chin tremble. “Dig. We have to dig.”
Daylight was fading and they didn’t have proper tools. They made do with what they had, but knives and swords weren’t much good in the mud. Fearing his father would collapse, Tavis sent him to a nearby house to borrow a shovel. Quinn also went to keep an eye on him. They came back with two spades, but his father looked like he had aged fifteen years in the past hour.
“What did you tell them?” Ian asked.
“That we were looking for buried treasure,” his father said.
“A husband and wife live there,” Quinn said. “Frederick and Isabel Belville. They’ve invited us to stay while we search.” The Keeper looked relieved. He’d been acting odd the entire trip. Sneaking about at night, looking over his shoulder as if he someone was following him. And Tavis was certain that Quinn was hiding something in his trunk. When Tavis came upon him looking inside it on the ship, Quinn had looked as guilty as a thief.
When the time vault was finally uncovered, Tavis’ father yanked at the lid. It was locked. “Is he inside?” he asked, his voice strained.
They watched as Simon ran his hands over the vault. “I can’t tell if he’s there. But it’s his talisman inside.” And if his talisman was there, then he must be too. Unless he was injured, captured, or dead, Faelan would never allow someone to take his talisman.
His father leaned against the time vault. His shoulders shook, but he made no sound.
Tavis’s chest and throat felt so tight he couldn’t breathe. He raised his arms, putting his hands behind his head to expand his chest, hoping to pull in a breath.
Ian shook his head, his face pale, but didn’t speak. He and Tavis made their way to their father’s side and stood near the time vault. Ian’s cheeks were damp now, as were their father’s, but Tavis felt like stone inside. He couldn’t be gone. Not the Mighty Faelan. Not his big brother. Tavis looked back and saw all the warriors and the Seeker had bowed their heads.
Tavis turned back to the muddy time vault, unable to fathom that his brother might be locked inside, frozen in time. Time vaults were made for demons, not humans. Druan must have put him there, and without Faelan’s talisman, there was no one to stop the ancient demon.
Stiff with shock and grief, they searched the hole for the key, hoping it had been buried with the time vault, and when they couldn’t find it, they covered the hole so no one would know the time vault had been removed. Tavis sent two warriors to accompany the Seeker back to town and purchase a wagon. He insisted that his father and Quinn go to Frederick and Isabel’s house before they became suspicious, while he, Ian, and the others disguised the time vault with branches and waited for nightfall. When it was quiet, and the house was dark, they went to move Faelan to holy ground. In case Druan, or whoever buried it, came back. A soft rain fell, as if heaven mourned. Even with four warriors, the time vault was difficult to move. Tavis’ muscles strained as he lifted his end. “Careful, don’t drop it!” he warned, when one of the warriors stumbled under the weight. Panting, they placed the time vault in the wagon.
“Someone’s coming,” Ian whispered.
They waited to see if they would be discovered, but the lone horse and rider moved past. When the path was clear, they continued their task. They unloaded the time vault outside the graveyard and carried it toward the crypt they’d seen earlier. It would protect Faelan for now. They were surprised, and relieved, to find the crypt empty. After placing Faelan inside the burial vault, they stood in a circle, their faces somber. Then the others left for town, where they and the Seeker had taken rooms.
Tavis and Ian spent the night in the crypt with their brother.
“Do you think he’s alive?” Ian asked.
“Aye. He doesn’t feel dead to me.” Not quite alive either, but not dead.
“We could find Druan and shackle him. Make him tell us what happened.”
“We’d never get close enough to shackle him,” Tavis said. “We would die. That would kill Ma, losing all her sons. We have to believe he’s alive and that he’s safe inside.” Tavis looked around at the crypt. “We need a permanent place to put him until then.”
“I wish we could take the time vault with us,” Ian said. “He belongs at home in Scotland.”
“Aye, he does, but it’s dangerous to move the time vault.” There were stories about the contents being destroyed if moved around too much.
“How do we know that?” Ian asked.
It was likely a fable, considering that time vaults were sent back to Michael and no one would have lived long enough to know such a thing anyway. Still, they couldn’t risk injuring Faelan more than he might already be. “The warning could have come from Michael. Do you want to risk it?”
“No. But we can’t just leave him here, unprotected.” Ian looked around at the small tomb. “This crypt would be the safest place. We wouldn’t have to move him again, and it’s on holy ground.”
“I think Frederick would notice if there was a time vault in his crypt. We could bury the time vault in the graveyard, but Frederick would notice that too.”
“I don’t want to put Faelan in the ground,” Ian said. “What if he can’t breathe?”
“He’s not breathing anyway.”
“We don’t know that. Maybe it’s different for humans. Maybe time doesn’t stop inside. Maybe it won’t open after a hundred and fifty years. Even if it does. What’ll he wake to? No family. Everything he knows dead and gone. That’ll be worse than death.”
“He has to be alive,” Tavis said. “His talisman is the only thing that can destroy Druan.”
“We have to find a safe place to keep him.”
“We could ask to buy the crypt, but I don’t know what explanation we would give.” Tavis sighed. “We’ll think of something. First, we have to find the key. Without it, nothing else matters.”
Tavis’ father and Quinn remained as guests of Frederick and Isabel under the pretext of searching for treasure, when in fact they were looking for the key to the time vault and keeping an eye on the crypt. Finding the key was crucial. Without it, the vault wouldn’t open, even after the proper time had passed. But they had no idea if Druan had the key or if he’d hidden it somewhere.
The next night, they got lucky and found a man sneaking around where the time vault had been buried. Tavis jumped the man, and he said that he was looking for a lost key. It was too much of a coincidence to believe that it was any key other than the one to Faelan’s time vault. With the right motivation, the man—one of Druan’s minions, they learned—admitted that he was helping the halfling, who had held the key for Druan that night. The halfling had lost the key and was terrified that Druan would find out.
They found Onca in the woods behind the chapel searching the path that led to town. He cooperated, telling the warriors what he knew, which wasn’t much. He didn’t know why Druan had locked the warrior away, except that it had something to do with revenge and this plot he was brewing. In return for their promise not to kill him and not to tell Druan what he’d done, Onca showed them the exact route he had taken that night, from the field where the time vault had been buried to Frederick and Isabel’s house, where he had stopped once to make sure they hadn’t seen the activity. Then he’d continued on the path to town.
They searched the area dozens of times, but the key was nowhere to be found. Even the Seeker couldn’t find it. It was as if it had vanished.
Just when it seemed things couldn’t get any worse, the warriors Faelan had sent to New York City returned with the urgent message Faelan had sent warning that Druan’s war was merely a cover for something far more deadly. He and his sorcerer were creating something that would destroy all humans. And it was almost ready.
“We should’ve stayed with him,” the oldest warrior said. “But we didn’t want to disobey his orders. This was his battle after all.” The warrior shrugged, looking miserable. “He is the Mighty Faelan.”
“It’s not your fault,” Tavis said. “He would have found a way to get you away from danger anyway.”
They decided that since they couldn’t destroy Druan without Faelan’s talisman, they could at least try to stop the sorcerer and destroy whatever he was working on. That might slow down Druan’s creation. But finding the sorcerer was a problem. The warriors spread out searching for Druan and his sorcerer. They found nothing but loose ends until a stranger approached Tavis and Ian outside town and said he had heard they were looking for Druan. The man was tall and dark-haired, but he kept his face hidden in the shadows, saying he preferred to remain anonymous. He said Jeremiah’s physician—which they reckoned must be his sorcerer—was leaving for Albany that night by stagecoach, and perhaps he could tell them where Jeremiah was staying.
The stranger’s manner and his use of Druan’s name along with his human identity made Tavis suspicious, and he insisted that the man identify himself. The stranger hesitated, and then said, “If you wish.” When he stepped into the light, Tavis’ heart crawled into his throat. He cursed and started to pull out his talisman even though it would be futile. As he touched the talisman, he felt numbness sliding over him.
“Don’t do anything rash,” Tristol said. “I mean you no harm. In this we have the same goal.”
Tavis stared into Tristol’s dark eyes, unable to look away. The numbness moved from Tavis’ body to his mind.
“Close your eyes and forget.” Tristol’s voice was soft, but commanding.
Tavis had no choice but obey. He felt his eyes closing. For how long, he didn’t know, and when he could open them again, the man was gone. A raven perched nearby, watching Tavis with dark eyes. Tavis felt a familiar chill. He pulled out his talisman and swung around in a circle.
“What just happened?” Ian asked. “There was a man here.”
“I don’t know,” Tavis whispered. He remembered the man—no, a demon—telling them where to find Druan’s sorcerer. “I think he was a demon.”
Ian frowned. “Aye, I think you’re right, but he wasn’t ugly like most of them. He was...beautiful. Bollocks. What did he do to us? Cast some kind of spell?”
“I wish I knew,” Tavis said, watching the raven watch him. “He said we had the same goal. I remember that.”
“It could be a trap.”
“I have a feeling he wouldn’t have needed a trap to kill us.”
“I feel like we should know him. There was something familiar about him, but I can’t remember. Maybe we’re dreaming,” Ian muttered.
Tavis punched him on the arm. “We’re not dreaming. Come on. We’re going to find this sorcerer. Trap or not, we have to check it out.”
They took a dozen warriors with them, just in case, and they found the stagecoach where the demon had said. When Tavis opened the door and looked inside, he first thought the man was a priest. Then he looked past the robes, at the long, gray hair, and he got a shock. “Old Donnal?”
“Bloody hell! It is him,” Ian said.
Old Donnal looked the same, except for the priest’s robes. He looked down his long nose at them. “My name is Selwyn.”
Tavis pulled the sorcerer from the carriage and put his dirk to his throat. “You’d best start explaining, Selwyn. How long have you been working for Druan?”
“Longer than you can imagine.”
“What were you doing in that apothecary shop pretending to be Old Donnal?”
“Druan paid me to follow another demon. He wanted to know what the demon was up to. The owner of the apothecary shop had recently died, and I needed a place to work on the virus, so I took over his shop so I could watch for the demon.”
“Virus? You mean Druan’s disease? You worked on it in the apothecary shop?” Ian asked.
“I’ve been working on this damned virus for longer than you’ve been alive. I’ve worked on it in so many locations I can’t recall them all.”
“We were in that shop when we were lads,” Tavis said.
“What is this virus?” Ian asked.
“It will destroy humans.”
Tavis frowned. “How?”
“I’ve said enough. If Druan finds out I’ve talked to you he’ll kill me.”
Tavis didn’t tell him but the sorcerer would be dead as soon as he told them where to find Druan and the virus. “Was this demon you followed to Scotland working with Druan?”
“I don’t think so. I don’t know why Druan was interested in him. I saw him only once,” Selwyn said.
“Why was he there and why was Druan spying on him?”
“The demon was there to kill a warrior.”
“What was the warrior’s name?”
“Something with an L. Liam, I think.”
Tavis felt as if his bones had crumbled. He remembered Old Donnal looking out the window, his face shocked as the demon dragged Liam away. Beside him, Ian looked stunned. “Liam Connor was our brother,” Tavis said. “He was killed by a demon when he was only two.” They’d always assumed Liam was killed out of revenge against their father.
“I remember,” the sorcerer said. “I was there when it happened.”
“Who was the demon?” Ian asked.
“Druan didn’t tell me his name,” the sorcerer said. But his dark eyes narrowed, almost taunting, and Tavis was certain he lied.
“What demon could have known Liam was a warrior?” Ian asked. “He was just two.”
“One of the demons Liam would have destroyed when he grew up.”
“How did the demon find out about Liam?” Ian asked.
“If your name is Connor,” the sorcerer said, “then you must be the Mighty Faelan’s brothers.”
“Aye, we are,” Tavis said. “Why did Druan lock Faelan in the time vault?”
“I wasn’t there. I don’t know his plans.”
But he didn’t question what a time vault was, so he knew more than he was saying. Tavis dug the point of his dirk into the sorcerer’s chest. “Is Faelan alive?”
“I believe he is,” the sorcerer said, trying to get away from the dirk.
“Is he injured?” Ian asked.
“I don’t know.” The sorcerer threw up his hands when Tavis started to stab him again. “I tell you the truth. I don’t know what happened. I wasn’t there.”
“You were there when Liam died. You know who killed him.” Tavis was so full of anger and frustration that he knew he needed to step away before he did something he would regret.
Ian, reading his thoughts as Ian often did, pulled Tavis aside. “I know how you feel. I want to know who killed Liam, but we have to remember what’s important. Liam is dead. Faelan is lying in a time vault. Probably alive. We might be able to save him.”
Tavis swallowed and nodded his head. A warning cry rose from the warriors surrounding them, and Tavis turned back to see the sorcerer chanting and waving his hands. Ian pulled out his dirk and buried it in the man’s heart.
Tavis cursed. “Why’d you do that?”
“I thought he was casting a spell,” Ian grumbled.
“You and your bloody spells. Now we’ll never know where Druan and the virus is or who killed Liam.”
“He wouldn’t have told us anyway. He would have killed himself first.”
“You’re probably right. Let’s hope killing him stops Druan’s virus. Or at least slows it down until Faelan wakes and can destroy Druan.”
While Tavis and Ian went to tell their father the news, the warriors split up. Some stayed to dispose of Selwyn’s body, while the others continued searching for signs of Druan. They knew not to approach him, but they still hoped to find and destroy his virus. If it wasn’t for the pain it would cause Ma, Tavis would be tempted to take on the demon himself and weaken him as Kieran had Onwar. But Tavis couldn’t bear the thought of Ian having to tell Ma that she’d lost two more sons.
“You were right,” Ian said, as they rode back to Frederick and Isabel’s house.
“About what?”
“Old Donnal. You always said he was a sorcerer.”
“Right there under our noses,” Tavis said. “I wish he’d told us who killed Liam. We need to know how a demon knew Liam would destroy him. We’ve got to warn the clan.”
“I’m sorry I killed Selwyn, but he was looking right at you when he was casting that spell.” Ian’s jaw tightened. “I won’t lose another brother.”
Tavis sighed. “It’s probably best. But Druan’s going to be pissed that his sorcerer is dead.”
A raven cried out. Startled, Tavis looked up just as something dark flew over their heads.
“What was that?” Ian asked.
“I don’t know.” But it was too big to be a bird. He felt the same odd chill along his spine that he’d felt the other times he’d seen the raven.
“This has been a bloody strange night,” Ian said. “A demon we can’t remember clearly helping us find Druan’s sorcerer, and now we find out he’s Old Donnal. I would wonder if the demon was the one Selwyn was spying on, the one who killed Liam, but I don’t think he was as ugly.”
“I can’t remember clearly either, but I’m sure he’s not the one. This demon was...different.”
“I thought they worked together against us.”
“Maybe demons suffer from the same jealousy and greed that they spread.” It still concerned Tavis that he couldn’t remember what the mysterious demon looked like. He was certain he knew him. “What are you thinking?” Tavis asked.
“Wondering what Da will say when he finds out he wasn’t the reason Liam died.”
“I don’t think we should tell him until we get back to Connor Castle. He’s already troubled over Faelan. I don’t want to remind him of Liam.”
“I’d wager he’s already thinking about Liam,” Ian said.
“Aye, I reckon you’re right. He’s taking this hard. I’m glad Quinn’s with him so he’s not alone.”
Ian nodded, but didn’t speak. His brow was bunched into a frown.
“What’re you thinking? You’ve got that look.” God knows enough had happened tonight to puzzle over for the next decade.
“Why do you think Quinn really came?”
“He said it was to find out more about Nigel Ellwood,” Tavis said.
“He hasn’t even mentioned Nigel since we arrived. He’s hiding something.”
“He is acting strange. He’s guarding that trunk of his like it’s full of gold. But we don’t have time to worry about Quinn now.”
It was nearing dawn when they arrived at Frederick and Isabel’s house. They didn’t want to wake everyone so they decided to rest in the crypt. They were walking toward the graveyard when Tavis heard a noise. “Did you hear that?”
Ian’s head was tilted, listening. “It came from the woods behind the chapel.”
When they reached the path, Tavis sniffed the air. “I smell blood.” He drew his dirk. “I have a bad feeling.”
He’d no sooner spoke when Ian cursed and scrambled toward a pile of rocks. Tavis followed and they found their father lying on his back, his body bloodied, eyes staring beyond the trees.
“No!” Tavis knelt beside Ian and touched his father’s chest, feeling for a heartbeat that wasn’t there. It was apparent what had happened from the slashes across his chest.
“A demon,” Ian said, his voice raw.
Druan? Tavis heard a moan and dragged himself to his feet. He found the Keeper not far away under the shelter of a pine tree. “It’s Quinn.”
“Is he alive?” Ian called, still hunched over their father’s body.
“Aye, he’s breathing.” There were similar slashes across Quinn’s chest too.
The Keeper opened his eyes and saw Tavis. “Demon...stop him.”
“Who did this?” Tavis asked. “Druan?” Had the demon already learned of his sorcerer’s death and retaliated?
Blood trickled from the corner of Quinn’s mouth as he tried to speak. “Not Druan...Voltar.”
Voltar? Tavis’ heart knocked against his ribs. Voltar was here too?
“Mistake...made a mistake,” the Keeper said.
“It’s all right, Quinn. It’s all right.” Whatever he’d done, he wouldn’t regret it much longer.
Quinn grabbed Tavis’ shirt and pulled in a rattling breath. “The book, you must find it.”
“What book?” Tavis asked, with a terrible sense of foreboding.
“The Book of Battles...stolen.”
Bloody hell! “Is that why you’re here? Did the Council send you to get it back?” That would explain Quinn’s odd behavior and what he was guarding in his trunk.
“Council doesn’t know...traitor....”
“There’s a traitor?”
“A traitor...I thought I could get it back.”
“How long’s it been missing?”
“Decades...”
If it had been missing for decades, it was a wonder any of the warriors were still alive. “Who’s the traitor?”
“I should have told someone...” the Keeper broke off with a cough, bringing up more blood. “I thought I could fix it. They will use the book to destroy the clan. You must find it, keep it safe.”
“I’ll find it,” Tavis said. “Do you know which demon took it?”
“No, but I think I know...I know where to look. In my sporran, an old letter...from Nigel Ellwood.”
“Nigel?” Why would Quinn have a letter from Nigel?
“Swear you’ll protect the book. Swear it.”
“I’ll protect it. I swear on my life.”
A tear slid down Quinn’s cheek. “Mistake...” He squeezed Tavis’ hand and went still.
They kept the bodies in the crypt until they could be buried. Frederick and Isabel, kindhearted souls, offered them spots in the graveyard. Tavis convinced Frederick to sell him the crypt, and in the night they buried their father in the spot meant for Quinn, and put Quinn in the hole where they had removed Faelan’s time vault. They couldn’t let anyone know Faelan was already in the crypt.
In Quinn’s sporran they had found the letter Nigel Ellwood had written long ago to the chief elder at that time. From the letter it seemed that Nigel suspected there was a traitor who was selling warrior’s names to a demon. Several warriors had died under suspicious circumstances. Nigel was worried that the Keeper, who would have been Quinn’s father at that time, was involved. He went to the Council and they appointed a secret group to look into matters. Nigel convinced them to let him find a place in America for the clan, a second clan seat so that they weren’t all in one place. He had taken the book with him and hidden it in America. Most of the Watchers who were investigating Nigel’s claims had also died mysteriously. Nigel hadn’t known who to trust, so he kept the book in America while he started work on the second castle. He figured the book was safest if it was believed missing, so he pretended to disappear himself. But now he was alarmed because he had spotted four ancient demons nearby. He was worried about the Book of Battles and had written to the chief elder asking him to send warriors to transport the book back to Scotland. He stressed in the letter the importance that the Keeper not be told.
“The Council didn’t mention anything about this letter from Nigel,” Ian said.
“I doubt the Council ever saw it. Quinn’s father must have taken it to protect his own hide.”
“How did Quinn get it, and why didn’t he tell anyone? He’s endangered the entire clan by keeping this secret. I knew he was hiding something.”
“Quinn’s father was the Keeper. Quinn was probably protecting him. That makes him as bad as a traitor.”
“Quinn’s father must have sold Liam’s name to a demon.”
“Bloody hell.” Tavis rubbed a hand through his hair. If Liam hadn’t died, he would have been a warrior. He would likely be with them now, grieving for Faelan. “I have to find the book. I promised Quinn I’d protect it.” And he would find and destroy the demon who had killed Liam if it took his last breath and his last drop of blood.
It took some doing to find the castle. Tavis, Ian, and the other warriors went by it several times and finally decided that Quinn, or Nigel, had gotten the location wrong. Then Ian stopped to piss. Ian could out-piss any of them. Standing in the middle of nowhere, a remarkable thing happened. Ian’s stream disappeared in mid air. “Bollocks!”
Tavis stuck out his hand and it disappeared. Cautiously, he eased his head through and echoed Ian’s curse. “It’s a castle. Our castle. Nigel duplicated it. Do you think he cloaked it? I didn’t know Watchers could do that.”
The Seeker closed his eyes. “This isn’t the work of a human. It’s been cloaked by a spell.”
“By a demon?” Tavis asked.
The Seeker frowned and moved his hands through the air as if touching something. “I’m not sure it’s demon.”
“If it’s not human, what else can it be?” Ian asked.
As soon as they entered the cloak, they saw dozens of demons and halflings, and a few minions, lying dead over the castle grounds. “They’ve been slaughtered.” The warriors walked through the mess with swords drawn, but everything here was dead.
The inside was the same, bodies everywhere. “But who did the slaughtering?” Ian asked. “Warriors didn’t do this or the bodies would have disappeared.”
It took the Seeker a long while to find the book. It was hidden inside one of the secret passages, in a compartment in the wall. The compartment had been cloaked, just like the castle.
They weren’t sure what to do with it. No one wanted to touch it since the Keeper was the only one allowed to touch the book.
“There’s something here,” the Seeker said, leaving the room. He moved through the castle with his hands extended in front of him, as if sensing messages in the air. He walked up the stairs leading to one of the towers and paused outside the door. “Something evil was here.”
“The demons, you mean?” Ian asked.
“No. Not the demons.” The Seeker opened the door. “Something else.”
There had been a fire in the tower and everything was burnt black. “Why a fire here and nowhere else?” Ian asked. A lone body lay in the corner of the room. Ian knelt beside him. “Look at this.”
“Looks human. Must be a minion,” Tavis said, joining Ian.
“Look at his neck. What do you make of that?”
The minion’s neck had two gaping, bloody holes. “Claws?” Tavis said.
“Looks like a bite mark.”
Demons had been known to drink the blood of their victims and eat the flesh. “Who do you suppose took a bite out of him?”
***
Earlier that night
Tristol left the scene of Selwyn’s death in a fury. The demons on the other side of the cloak which veiled his castle never saw Tristol coming. He destroyed them and moved on, decimating everything in his path. When he was finished, all of Druan’s demons who’d been ordered to guard the castle lay dead. Tristol turned to smoke and streaked through the castle toward the tower where Druan had been staying. One minion stood outside the door. He was one of Druan’s trusted minions. His eyes widened when he saw Tristol.
Tristol turned from smoke into his vampire form and grabbed the minion by the throat. “Where is it?” he roared.
“What?”
Tristol lifted the minion until they were at eye level. He could feel his eyes burning hot inside him. “Where is Druan’s virus?”
The minion’s eyes darted toward the door to the tower room.
Dragging the pathetic human by the throat, Tristol burst through the locked door and surveyed the room. “Where?
“There.” The minion pointed to a small trunk in the corner. Druan had owned the trunk for centuries.
Still holding the minion, Tristol broke the lock and opened the trunk. It appeared empty inside, but Tristol could smell the spell disguising the interior. He reached inside and found a smaller metal box. “Is this it?”
The minion was shaking so hard his nod was hardly noticeable.
Tristol opened the box and looked at the bottles inside. There were several of them, all filled with liquid. He left the bottles and dragged the minion from the room. Outside the door, he called forth a spell and a ball of fire rolled out from his fingertips. He shut the door before the flames reached the bottles. Still enraged, his blood surged, filling him with an uncontrollable thirst. He sank his teeth into the minion’s throat. Warm blood flowed over his tongue, calming his rage. He drank until the minion stopped twitching, and then drank more. A roar behind him startled his feeding. He turned and saw Druan behind him, his ugly face filled with horror.
His gaze moved past the minion to the tower room door. He ran toward it and opened the door. The room was blazing inside. “What have you done?” Druan screeched.
“I’ve destroyed your virus. How dare you bring this into my castle?” And then Tristol realized that Druan was staring at him in shock.
Tristol looked at the minion dangling from his hand. He dropped him and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Blood.
“What are you?” Druan asked.
Tristol experienced the first rush of fear that he’d felt in centuries. He’d protected his secret for over two thousand years. He shifted from his vampire form to his demon form, and Druan’s expression went from shock to speculation, followed by satisfaction. “You’re part vampire. Does the Dark One know?”
Tristol considered killing Druan, but it would draw unwanted attention. “No more than he knows about your virus.”
“Half vampire, half demon.” A smile touched Druan’s lips. “An abomination. I believe we are at an impasse. We can kill each other or keep our secrets.”
It wasn’t an impasse. Tristol could kill Druan before he had time to blink, but if he did, the Dark One would investigate, and Tristol couldn’t risk close scrutiny. He needed more time to build his army. “An impasse then. I keep your secret. You keep mine.”
There was further speculation in Druan’s eyes. He looked around him. “I’ve always been partial to this castle. I believe I would be even more inclined to protect your secret, if this were a gift.”
Tristol knew why Druan wanted the castle. Because his warrior was buried nearby. But he merely smiled. “Accept it then as my gift, a token to seal our pact.”
***
“What are we going to do with it now that Quinn’s dead?” Ian asked, staring at the book sitting on top of the burial vault. Neither of them had ever seen the Book of Battles. It was closely guarded by the Keeper of the Book. Tavis didn’t know any warrior who had ever seen it, much less touched it. It was thicker than he had expected. Leather, with bindings on the front. They hadn’t known what to do with it so they brought it to the crypt.
“What do you think is inside?” Ian asked.
“I don’t know, and we’re not going to find out, so wipe that look off your face.”
“You sound like Da,” Ian said.
Tavis stared at the book some more. “We’ll have to take it back to the Council.”
“What about Nigel’s letter? He believed there was a traitor in the clan. What if it wasn’t only Quinn’s father? I don’t know why the clan wasn’t already destroyed, since a demon had the book, but we can’t risk losing it again.”
Tavis shook his head. “Nigel wrote that letter before we were born. Quinn’s father is dead, and so is Quinn. If there’s another traitor, he’s probably dead too.”
“How did Quinn get that letter? It was meant for the chief elder dozens of years ago? How did no one find out the book was missing? Someone else must be involved. Maybe one of the elders. I don’t trust them. I think we should hide the book until we’re sure it’s safe.”
Tavis frowned. “The new Keeper will find out and send Seekers to search for it.”
“It will take a while to appoint someone to replace Quinn. We may know by then if there’s still a traitor. If we still don’t know, we’ll tell the Keeper but no one else.”
“If we’re going to hide the book, we shouldn’t tell them about the castle or Faelan either. The fewer who know he’s here, the safer he’ll be.”
“We can tell them he died. We’ll have to tell Ma the truth. And we’ll have to find a good place to hide the book.”
“You’re better at hiding things than anyone I know,” Tavis said. “Simon and the others will have to be sworn to secrecy. We can’t have them telling anyone when we get back.”
Ian looked at the time vault. “I don’t think I can go home and leave Faelan here alone, with no one to protect him. What if Druan comes looking for him? Onca said he wanted revenge. What if Druan knows the time vault’s secrets?”
“I’ve been thinking about it. We have to tell Frederick and Isabel.”
“Are ye daft? We can’t tell anyone outside the clan. You know that.”
“How can we not? You’re right. We can’t leave him unprotected. Someone has to watch over him. If we stay and Druan spots us, he’ll become suspicious. Isabel and Frederick won’t draw suspicion. And I trust Isabel. There’s something different about her. I can’t explain it but I know she’s honest.”
“Honest or not, she won’t live forever,” Ian said. “What happens after she dies?”
He had an idea, but Ian wouldn’t like it.
That night, Tavis had a visitor. Michael came to him with an order, and for the third time in a decade, an ancient demon was assigned to a Connor warrior.
***
Tavis and Ian had a long talk with Frederick and Isabel, which was received surprisingly well. Ian had been reluctant to tell anyone, after all, it was forbidden, but Faelan had to be protected. And Ian trusted Isabel too. As Tavis had said, there was something unusual about her. It was strange, but she felt familiar.
“I sensed something was wrong,” Isabel said. She looked so young. She was only eighteen. A beauty with all that dark hair and lovely green eyes. Frederick was a bit older, and he watched her as if she were a piece of glass that might break. It was obvious that he adored her, and it made Ian think of Bessie, back home in Scotland. He hadn’t told anyone that he’d already gotten his mate mark for her. It was early. Too early. But no one had noticed the mark so far. It was small, and he kept it covered with his hair.
“Your mother, how she’ll suffer.” Isabel put a protective hand over her stomach. Frederick had told them she was carrying a child.
“Aye,” Ian said. “But she’s strong.”
“This is a heavy burden,” Tavis said. “Are you sure you’re willing to take it on?”
Isabel’s green eyes clouded, and for a moment she seemed far away. She blinked and stared at them. “I am.” She looked at Frederick, who was nodding. “We are. We’ll guard it with our lives.”
“I don’t mean to be indelicate,” Ian said, “but when the time comes for you to…” He cleared his throat. “Eventually, when you’re...”
Frederick raised a dark brow. He was a pleasant looking man, serious, but with a kind face. “When we’re dead, you mean?”
Ian nodded.
“We’ll tell someone else.” Isabel touched her stomach again. “We’ll make sure someone in the family will look out for him. Then they can appoint someone else.” Her eyes grew misty. “If he were my family, I would want someone to help me.”
Ian was hesitant to tell them about the time vault key. They were outsiders, and too much had already been shared, but finding the key was crucial. The halfling had lost it near here, and who best to look for it without suspicion? “There’s another matter,” Ian said. “There’s a key to the time vault. It won’t open without it.”
“A key? What does it look like?” Frederick asked.
When Ian described what the key looked like, Isabel frowned and left the room. Ian thought perhaps she wasn’t feeling well. He remembered how Ma had gotten sick when she was carrying Alana. But Isabel returned a moment later.
“Do you mean this?” she asked, holding out her hand.
“Shite!” Tavis said. “Uh, forgive me, but where did you get it?”
“I found it in the dirt near the extra room Frederick is building. I thought it would make a good luck charm.”
“It’s good luck for us,” Ian said. “We’ve been searching everywhere for this. We can’t free Faelan without it.”
They decided it best to leave the key here. With possible traitors and an ancient demon to worry about, the key was better off hidden in plain sight. Hopefully, Druan wouldn’t be looking for it. He would think Onca had it. And Ian and Tavis didn’t want to have it on their persons as they traveled in case it got lost, or God forbid, the ship wrecked. Frederick and Isabel agreed to keep the key safe until one of the brothers returned for it. Tavis and Ian told them to keep crosses in the house and to have the house blessed, which might help keep Druan away if he figured out that the time vault was missing and came looking for it.
Then Tavis and Ian wrote letters for Faelan, explaining all that had happened, and left them in Isabel’s house, which they hoped would still be standing and still in the family in a hundred and fifty years. Afterwards, they went to draw a map so that when the time came, when it was safe to let the clan know about Faelan, they would know where to find him.
“Did you bring something to write with?” Ian asked, looking at the graveyard.
“Aye.” From his sporran, Tavis pulled a quill, a bottle of ink, and a piece of paper borrowed from Isabel. “You do it. You have a steadier hand.”
When the map was finished, they went to the crypt to say their final goodbye. Whether Faelan was alive or dead, they would never see him again. They pushed back the stove cover hiding the time vault. “This’ll kill Ma, losing him and Da after she’s already lost Liam.”
Tavis clenched his jaw. “Ma’s strong. All mates know the danger that comes with being married to a warrior.”
“Another fortnight and he could’ve stopped trying to carry the world on his shoulders.”
“That wouldn’t have stopped him. Not the Mighty Faelan.”
Ian touched the time vault, wishing he could see inside and know that Faelan was okay. “He was almost finished with his duty. Now he’ll never meet his dream lass.” Ian thought about Bessie, and he swallowed a lump in his throat. “She’ll be dead when he wakes up. Everyone and everything he knows will be dead.” Except Druan. “He’ll have no family. What if they forget to wake him?”
“They won’t. The map will tell them where to find him when it’s time. And Isabel’s family will know too.”
And they could only pray that Faelan was still alive. He had to be.