Ian turned to face me, his brown eyes huge behind his glasses as he continued quietly, “The last time I spoke to her was on the phone. She had just left Aviemore and turned off for the Estate when her phone cut out. I traced it and found her car at the base of the Cairngorms, close to a stone circle. She couldn’t resist the demon’s call. At first, I couldn’t understand it. She wasn’t Dormant; she had always been stronger than most of the other Druids in the clan. It wasn’t until the doctor called that I understood why. Pregnancy dilutes a woman’s power, shifting it to protect the new life inside. She was so excited to share the news; I think she forgot how important it was to stay safe that night.”
I squeezed his cold hands, a reminder that he wasn’t alone, and said again softly, “I’m so sorry, Ian.”
His gaze dropped to our linked hands, as if aware of my touch for the first time. His gaze flew to my face. “I’m sorry, Brydie. I shouldn’t have dropped it on you like that.”
“It’s okay,” I whispered softly. “I understand loss. Events of the past shape who we are. Caroline was a huge part of your life, and she’ll remain with you as you move forward. I’m just really sorry you had to experience that—not just the loss of the woman you loved, but also your baby.”
There was a soft sheen in his eyes. “It’s my reason for continuing on this crazy ride.” He let go of my hand, adding, “Sometimes I wonder if I was chosen by prophecy because of what happened to me, or whether those events occurred in order for me to fulfill my role.”
Despite the heat of the fire, gooseflesh raced over my skin. I’d been thinking the same thing. So far, all the descendants were touched by loss. Gage with his grandfather and Nora, Ian with his fiancé and unborn child, and I with the death of my parents. I still hadn’t found out what McKenzie’s story was, but I knew without a doubt that it was also touched by loss. The woman exhibited a hard exterior and carried herself with aloof independence that screamed not to come close. Would the fifth descendant also be shaped by grief?
I watched the flames spark and splutter, chasing each other up the chimney as I considered all that Ian had shared. “Do you think that if we kill the demon, Talorgan will die?”
Ian leaned forward, face tight. “I’ve been wondering that myself. I think, at the least, that if we kill Falin, it’s possible Talorgan’s immortality will end.”
Which gave us a fighting chance. I felt the thrill in my stomach. It was hope. “So, how do we kill a dragon?”
The question sounded ridiculous. Even after all I’d seen and done these past five weeks. A dragon? A mythical being that no one had any proof had ever existed. But then, I supposed the same could be said for the Celtic gods.
Ian spread his hands. “I don’t know. There’s nothing in the Lore Book about Falin except a note that Arawn gifted the demon to Talorgan. I’ve also looked through other books on Celtic lore, but they all claim that a demon can’t be killed unless it’s by his maker.”
Arawn. The Dark God. I understood without asking that this wasn’t a course of action. Besides, he resided in the Underworld, in a world I couldn’t reach—didn’t want to reach. “Did you come up with any other options?”
Ian shook his head. “Another option is getting each party to mutually agree to break the contract they’ve made. Highly unlikely if Talorgan and Falin each receive a benefit from the agreement. It only leaves us with banishment, and I think that should not be attempted until all five of us are together—after your magic has come into its own.”
I held back my groan of frustration. Another reason to overcome the wall. Why couldn’t I access it? What was I doing wrong?
Thankfully, Ian wasn’t watching my face. He continued, “While I’m away, I can also look into other ways of how we could kill Falin. Which reminds me—I’m leaving for Perth tomorrow, early in the morning. It’s late, and we should both get some sleep.”
I nodded. “I should get to bed, too. Gage will no doubt be at my door again at first light.”
Ian’s brow furrowed as he came to his feet. “He’s not pushing you too hard, I hope?”
I shook my head. “He always knows when I’m at breaking point.”
Ian’s eyes narrowed on mine. “Don’t let him push you too hard.”
“I’ve got it under control,” I lied.
I waited while Ian banked the fire. We walked together to the west wing, and I said goodnight in front of my door, sad I wouldn’t have a friendly face around the Estate for the next five days. Once inside, I stripped down into my night tee and lay in bed, mind churning with all that Ian had shared.
I didn’t bother to close my eyes. I knew I would be incapable of seeking the oblivion of sleep.
16
Gage
I pulled my hands from the tarn’s icy waters, satiated physically, but nowhere near emotionally. The longer I trained Brydie, the more my sense of trust in this prophecy was being tested. I didn’t know what I would have done if I didn’t have this outlet, a place to expend my power.
Releasing a breath, I stood, cognizant of the moon high in the sky. I had few precious hours left before dawn beckoned—before training with Brydie resumed.
I began walking back to the Estate and probed the wards out of habit. They responded with a zap of energy, a confirmation that they were still secure. I breathed easier knowing they were still in place when the Daughter of Winter was out of my sight.
The Estate was a pale hulking form through the trees when I felt a tingle at my neck. But it wasn’t an indication of a threat, but rather of recognition. Her cinnamon apple scent was a forewarning of who approached. I came to a stop and let her come toward me. McKenzie never did anything without reason, and if she’d sought me out at midnight, it must be for something important. The forest afforded us privacy that wouldn’t be granted at the Estate.
As she walked toward me, her red hair blazed in the light of her magic, like living fire. McKenzie was a Dream Walker, but she also held a drop of fire magic, enough to craft light with.
She came to a stop in front of me. “I’ve been meaning to catch you all day,” she said quietly in greeting.
She didn’t question why I was out here. I suspected she knew anyway. “I’ve been busy with Brydie,” I replied.
“Without any reward, it seems.”
I stilled at her retort. “She’s trying.”
“Obviously not hard enough, if she’s made no progress!”
I snarled, conscious of the guilt that racked my soul over yet another reminder of our failed training sessions. “McKenzie! Do I need to remind you what is riding on her success? It is our duty to maintain hope. Without it, she’s lost—we all are.”
She looked away, but I caught the flicker in her magic—that tell of uncertainty.
“What have you done?” I demanded.
She lifted a shoulder, eyes unseeing on the forest around us. “I told her what I saw in my dreams.”
I froze. “You told her about Chloe?”
McKenzie shook her head, her emerald eyes cutting back to mine. “No. I told her of the future I’ve seen if she fails.” She hesitated, then added, “And I may have told her that she won’t get my support or respect until she comes into her legacy.”