The Magic Knot (24 page)

Tristan looked her up and down and raised an eyebrow. “My daughter has blossomed since last I saw her.” He gave Niall a speculative glance. “Your doing, I take it?”

Niall gripped Rose’s elbow and pulled her to his side. “Where’s Ana?”

“You do have a tediously single-track mind for someone with such a rich and creative heritage.” Tristan held up a decanter. “Don’t suppose I can tempt you?”

Niall scowled, and Tristan placed the decanter back on its tray with a sigh.

Rose leaned into the strong warmth of Niall. He obviously didn’t intend to let Tristan separate them this time. Despite Niall’s attempt to block her out, spikes of his anger darted into her as he glanced around the room.

Tristan crooked a finger at Jacca. “Bring the little creature in.”

Niall’s grip on Rose’s arm tightened to the point of pain as he stared at the door. When Ana trotted in, dark curls bouncing around her wrinkled face, Niall released Rose and dropped to his knees. He took Ana’s hands. “Are you hurt?”

“Naw, lad.” She stroked his cheek, then smiled at Rose. “I’m right as rain now that you’re here for me.”

Niall stood, Ana’s hand clasped in his, and glanced at the door. “Michael’s waiting for you. I’ll take you out.”

“Not yet,” Tristan said. “The girls stay with me until you’ve unloaded the paintings and taken them downstairs.”

Niall cast Tristan a fierce look that made the hair prickle on the back of Rose’s neck, but he didn’t argue. He led Ana across to Rose. With a silent brush of caution across her senses, he gave her a meaningful look and put Ana’s rough little hand into hers. “I’ll not be long.”

Rose glanced nervously at her father as Niall and Jacca walked out. She didn’t want Niall to leave her, but he obviously didn’t have any choice. She remembered now that the last time she was here her father had told her he wouldn’t let her go. She’d never discovered why. Tristan smiled, razor sharp with victory, and her skin crawled.

Backing away, Rose pulled Ana to a leather sofa at the far end of the room. They huddled together in silence while Tristan poured a drink and sank into a chair by the fire.

“Me lad won’t leave us for long,” Ana said. She smiled again, folding her wrinkled brown face into a mass of crinkles. With a stubby finger, she brushed the bump of Niall’s stones beneath Rose’s shirt. “I do so love being right,” she whispered, and chuckled. “That lad would have you thinking he’s got no heart, but don’t go believing him. ’Tis soft he is inside.” She nodded to herself. “Aye, soft as thistledown, and equally fragile. You’re a lucky lass. There’s no finer fellow, believe me. He won’t go letting you down, like some scoundrels.”

Ana’s total belief in Niall helped relieve Rose’s
sense of unease, but didn’t squelch it altogether. Chills of foreboding raced up and down her spine as Tristan watched her with an air of confidence that made her think he knew something she didn’t.

Niall and Jacca seemed to take forever, but eventually the men returned to the room, looking dusty and hot. “All done,” Jacca said to Tristan.

“Well, then, Niall. It seems you’ve fulfilled nearly all your part of our bargain. Nightshade will escort your sister out to Michael. You have my word she’ll be safe now.”

Rose stood at Niall’s side and watched Jacca leave with Ana. “Aren’t we going as well?” she whispered to him.

He cut her a quick sideways glance. “There’s one more thing.”

After downing the last of his drink, Tristan rose from his seat. Niall stepped behind her and curled his arm around her waist. Welcoming the reassurance of his presence with her father so close, she leaned against Niall.

Tristan’s nostrils flared like those of a predator scenting prey. “I hope you haven’t gotten cold feet, Niall,” he said, his eyes sharp with anticipation.

Fear streaked through her. Something wasn’t right. “Niall?” She pressed back against him, seeking safety.

“Shh, love,” he whispered. “Trust me.”

Before she could summon questions, Jacca returned and cast an apprehensive glance her way. She clutched Niall’s arm and snapped her head around toward Tristan. He grinned with a tight malevolence that turned her blood to ice water.

“Someone tell me what’s going on. Niall?” Out of the corner of her eye she caught the glint of a blade in
Niall’s hand. With sudden horrific clarity, she sensed what he was about to do.

Still as death, Rose froze, the chill in her blood invading her heart. Time slowed. She opened her mouth in slow motion. Words bumped around her brain, but didn’t make it past her numb lips. The Ten of Swords had spoken true.

“I love you,” Niall whispered against her ear. His presence flowed into every cell of her body, overwhelming her senses. Despite her fugue, she felt pain lance her side, so hot and sharp it forced the air from her lungs in a keening wail. Fire invaded her belly. Ice filled her chest, splintering her heart and piercing her soul. Niall’s essence floated away like mist on the wind as the room faded. Rose strained to hold on to him as darkness sucked her down toward oblivion. Betrayal hadn’t required ten swords in the back. One knife in the side was just as deadly.

Rose opened her eyes. For a moment she wondered if she really had raised her eyelids or just imagined doing so, because the darkness was impenetrable. A flutter of cool, salty air brushed across her skin. Dense silence hummed in her ears. She moved and became aware of cold, unyielding rock beneath her.

For a few seconds she was disoriented; then the darkness pressed against her like invisible hands. Panic snatched her breath. Where was she? Underground? In a tomb? Instinctively she extended her consciousness, seeking Niall as the terror of being trapped tightened around her chest. The reassuring glow of his presence was close, but shielded from her. A little spurt of anger shot through her. Why did he always shut her out?

Then the memory of what had happened trickled back like ice water into her grave.

Tears sprang to her eyes, and Rose fought to breathe past the burn in her chest. Had Niall been working with Tristan all along? How bad was her wound? The pain had been horrendous when the knife went in. Now she couldn’t feel anything. Gingerly she touched her side and found a dressing taped beneath her shirt.
She pressed her fingers against the gauze and was surprised the wound didn’t hurt. Maybe they’ given her painkillers.

The tender words Niall had breathed against her ear as he’d made love to her the previous night fluttered in her mind. How could he stab her after all they’ been through together?

Righteous anger seared away her pain. She smacked her palm against the rock.
Damn him!
She’d kill him if he had betrayed her, and she’d bloody well kill him if he hadn’t and this was all some ploy. Oh, yes, knowing Niall, that made more sense. No wonder he hadn’t explained everything to her. He’d swamped her with his presence as the blade went in, probably trying to distract her from the pain. Well, it had still hurt like crap. She had half a mind to walk out and leave them all to it. Except there was nowhere she wanted to go.

Her bravado collapsed, leaving her hollow. Her human life, the career she’d worked so hard for, her past, all seemed like a dream. She belonged here now, with Niall and the piskies—or she’d thought she did. Although she’d tried to change and fit in, she still didn’t understand how the fairy world worked. Ignorance had nearly gotten her killed in Ireland. Maybe now
it
would be the death of her.

Rose rubbed her eyes. Niall had never shown her the note listing Tristan’s demands. Stabbing her must have been part of the bargain to release Ana. For a few seconds jealousy and anger swirled through her, overwhelming reason. Did Niall love Ana so much more than he loved her? Was it possible he’d sacrifice Rose’s life to save his sister’s?

But Niall had risked his own life to save her in Ireland. None of this made sense. The sweet memory
of the previous night rolled through her. He loved her. He could not hide his emotion when they were joined physically, mentally, and spiritually. Why would he hurt her?

A faint scraping sound made her freeze. She opened her eyes and stared into the pitch darkness. Jacca’s presence brushed her senses, darkly sweet like a blossom opening at twilight. A hand landed on her arm and she jumped.

“It’s me, Rosenwyn,” Jacca whispered in the darkness.

“And there’s me thinking it was room service with the champagne and caviar.” Despite her bravado, she tensed beneath his touch. What part had he played in her predicament? “I hope you haven’t changed sides again.”

“No.” The edge of distress in his voice reassured her more than the word. “You’re my queen. I’ll protect you.”

“Huh! I think your definition of
protect
must be slightly different from mine.”

“Check the wound, Rosenwyn.”

She frowned and pressed her fingers against the dressing again. “Niall stabbed me. I felt the blade go in.”

“Wait.” Cool air replaced his heat as Jacca moved away. An oil lamp flared to life on a scrubbed wooden table, illuminating the damp walls and gray dome roof of a small cave. He lifted the lamp and carried it closer, the light chasing ghoulish shadows across the speckled granite. “Examine your wound.”

Rose shivered as she imagined what she’d find. His encouraging smile persuaded her to peel back the dressing and check. Her skin was pink, but showed no
damage. She pushed up on her elbow for a better look and poked at the spot. “That’s impossible.”

“Niall’s smoky quartz blades can be enchanted to cut away bad energy from people without leaving physical damage.”

“He stabbed the blade into my side.”

“Penetrating your body with the blade cleansed your energy field.”

“Unbelievable.” Rose sat up, ripped off the dressing, and tucked in her shirt. “He stabs me and you’re trying to tell me it was for my own good. I wasn’t born yesterday. Let’s have the truth.”

“Don’t think too badly of him. Tristan had to believe Niall was going to betray you so he could stay for the ritual. Niall also needed your blood on the blade to raise the piskies.”

“Why the hell didn’t he warn me?”

Jacca gazed at his feet and shrugged. “He thought it would be worse if you knew what was coming. This way you didn’t worry about it beforehand.”

Anger at Niall’s twisted male logic warred with the flood of relief that his motives were good. She stared at the flickering shadows cast by the oil lamp, and goose bumps rushed across her skin. If he did stupid things like this, how could she ever trust him again?

She crushed the wound dressing in her hand. “I thought he’d betrayed me.” For a moment tears burned her throat. “It hurt.”

“I’m sorry…” Jacca touched her hand. Anguish filled his eyes, sending a frisson of fear skating through her.

“There’s more, isn’t there?”

“I must take you to the great hall for the ritual.”

“The one Niall wanted to stay for?”

Jacca nodded.

“To free the piskies?”

“We must play along with Tristan’s plans. He wants to sacrifice you with a ritual blade before the paintings to show the piskies they have no hope of rescue.”

Fear fisted in her belly. One taste of a blade was enough. She shook her head.

“Niall’s planning to release the piskies while Tristan’s occupied with the ceremony. We won’t allow any harm to come to you.”

Much as she hated the idea of putting herself at Tristan’s mercy again, if her people were freed, it would be worth the risk. A rod of icy resolution straightened her backbone. “Okay, tell me what Niall intends to do so I’m prepared.”

“I don’t know. Niall said he’d give a signal when he wants me to fetch the globes containing the piskies’ minds and spirits.”

“Great!” Rose slapped her palms on the rock. “Tristan plans to sacrifice me, and Niall’s going to wing it.”

Jacca smiled apologetically. “We’ better go now. I’ll leave the bonds loose when I tie you to the stone table. Relax and close your eyes. Tristan must think you’re still unconscious.”

Niall’s presence nearby hummed like high-voltage cables. What ever he planned, he was keyed up and ready. Despite his obdurate behavior, she was certain he loved her. She stood up and brushed off her clothes. All she could do was trust the man she loved.

When Jacca scooped her into his arms, she relaxed against his chest and remembered how terrible she’d felt on the flight from Ireland. She hadn’t expected to face death again so soon. As they entered the dark corridor, she closed her eyes and pressed her cheek
against his warm skin. This was her destiny. The lives of seventy-two piskies rested in her hands. What ever it took to put right her mother’s mistakes and her father’s evil deeds, Rose was determined to pay the price.

Niall waited beside Tristan in the center of the great hall beneath Trevelion Manor. Every muscle in his body tensed when Nightshade appeared from the shadows with Rose’s limp form cradled in his arms.

Extending his senses, Niall reached out to reassure her. She was conscious, but emotionally he sensed…nothing. Then a fog of fear and pain drifted between them, blurring his link with her.

He pushed harder, trying to strengthen their connection, let her know she was safe. No response. What was wrong? The stab wound should have healed within an hour, leaving her cleansed and strengthened to face Tristan. Apart from the initial pain, which he’d tried to alleviate, there should have been no adverse effects.

Niall stared at Nightshade until the man met his gaze and blinked, his expression unreadable. The stalker was supposed to have explained Niall’s motives for stabbing her. Had she understood? Had Niall pushed her trust in him too far?

After Nightshade laid Rose on the stone table in the center of the chamber, he secured her wrists and ankles. She rolled her head and groaned, obviously pretending to regain consciousness for Tristan’s benefit. Niall stayed inside her mind, trying to connect with her. She thrust him away and retreated behind sharp points of anger and hurt. Her name jumped to his lips and he bit it back. Tristan mustn’t doubt his intentions. A chill settled in the pit of his stomach. Had he
devised a plan that would save her people yet lose him her love?

Tristan shuffled over to where Rose lay and lit four black candles positioned on the corners of the stone table. When the druid gave her a malevolent grin, Niall suppressed the urge to race over and protect her.

Narrowing his eyes, Tristan surveyed the paintings of the pisky troop that were leaning against the walls. “Behind those frozen expressions they see everything.” He stared at Rose as he withdrew a bone-handled knife from his robes. “Let’s hope they enjoy our little show.”

Rose shifted. She turned her head toward Niall. Unshed tears in her eyes glittered in the candle flames.

Niall’s muscles vibrated with the effort to remain still.
Steady, love
, he whispered into her mind, and felt a flood of relief as she opened to him.

“We’ve come full circle, my dear,” Tristan said. “Your mother lay here when I took her blood to destroy your people. Now you lie in her place as queen.” Tristan passed his blade through a candle flame, a satisfied smile on his face. “The blood of the royal line condemned them. Only the blood of the royal line can restore them.” He touched the ritual blade to his lips, then leaned over Rose, his face inches above hers. “On your death, the ungrateful wretches will be trapped forever.”

Rose remained motionless, but Niall sensed her hanging on to their thread of connection like a lifeline.

Tristan raised his hands above his head. The wide sleeves of his robe fell back to reveal emaciated arms.

Time to give Nightshade the signal. Niall looked at the stalker, who nodded once in acknowledgment and slipped away to fetch the two glass globes and the wooden box containing the broken Magic Knots.

Niall flexed his wrist and let the bloodied blade he’d used on Rose slide into his palm. Timing was crucial. Although he didn’t know how powerful Tristan was, Nightshade swore the druid’s black magic was capable of killing them all. Niall had to wait until Tristan entered a trance state before he took action.

Tristan’s Gaelic litany echoed around the underground chamber. Most Niall understood. He wished he didn’t. Evil words from the mantra of eternal damnation hammered into his soul like rusty nails. Niall swallowed and concentrated on controlling his catching breaths. How much worse it must be for Rose. Yet she held on to their connection, trusting him. Her life in his hands.

He mustn’t let her down.

When Tristan’s voice dropped as though he were nearing the end of his incantation, Niall flexed his muscles, ready for action, and watched for Nightshade. The druid ceased speaking, face turned up toward the ceiling, eyes closed. Silence hummed in the room.

Come on, Nightshade. Where in the Furies are you? We need to act now.

Niall edged toward the door, counting off the seconds of Tristan’s trance in his head. When Niall reached two hundred, Tristan sucked in a breath and looked down at Rose.

Dagda!
They’ missed their best chance. With a wary eye on the tableau being played out on the stone table, Niall continued his silent steps toward the doorway where he expected Nightshade to reappear.

With the backs of his fingers, Tristan stroked Rose’s cheek. Her dread tugged at Niall, but he couldn’t be distracted now.
Hold on a little longer
, he whispered into her mind. Nightshade must return soon.

Tristan hooked his finger beneath the leather thong around Rose’s neck and pulled out the Magic Knot. Niall froze, breath locked in his chest, every scrap of attention fixed on his stones. He hadn’t foreseen this. Killing Rose was enough to put an end to the piskies. Why did Tristan want the stones?

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nightshade slide back into the chamber, dark as a wraith.
Grand bloody timing
.

If Tristan smashed Niall’s stones, Niall would join the pisky troop in oblivion. A surge of pain swept through him. He was about to be rent asunder and he’d never actually told Rose he loved her.

Rose gasped. “Not the stones.” She shot a panicked glance his way.

“Ah, at last you show some spirit.” Tristan followed her gaze toward Niall and frowned when he noticed he’d moved. Then he turned back to Rose. “I thought you’ given up as easily as your mother. I expected more from you, since you carry my genes.”

“Don’t remind me,” Rose spit.

The druid jerked the thong around her neck taut and whipped his blade across it. She cried out as the thin leather bit into her flesh before it snapped.

Tristan dangled the stones before her. “Say goodbye to your lover, my dear.”

He hurled Niall’s Magic Knot at the ground.

“Niall!” Rose screamed.

Niall leaped as the stones left the druid’s hand. He caught them an inch above the ground and rolled over onto his feet. Tristan blinked in surprise, mouth agape. In the few seconds it took the druid to react, Niall pocketed his stones, turned, and sprinted toward Nightshade.

The stalker hesitated a second, then took off toward Niall, carrying the box of Magic Knots. Niall flipped the bloodied dagger blade out and held it ready. He concentrated on the box, imagined plunging the blade among the broken stones to rejoin them.