Jenna said nothing. How could she explain that she wasn’t afraid for herself but was terrified for him? For the people of Skye?
Taking a deep breath, Jenna knelt once more by the stone. She closed her eyes and reached out, this time laying her palm flat against the cold surface. The alien magic lunged at her like a snapping hound.It was all anger and seething rage, ocean storms and the dark, angry depths. She steadied herself. Took a deep breath. And slowly, slowly, began to push her own magic towards it.
She wrapped the anchor stone in tendrils of golden power, laying strand over strand until it was covered in a glimmering net. Then she began to contract that net, pulling the strands of magic tight against the stone and the alien magic within. But it fought her. The magic pushed back and it was woven through the anchor stone so tightly that she couldn’t seem to get a good grip on it. She was soon breathing heavily, and sweat was pouring down her face.
Come on!she shouted inwardly.Break, damn you!
But it didn’t. Jenna fought and struggled but was unable to make a dent in the magic of the anchor stone.
Weak, she thought.You’re too weak. You’re going to fail!
But then, just as her strength was giving out, she felt new vigor flooding into her. Arran had his hand clasped to her shoulder and somehow he was feeding her strength. Vitality rushed through her, pushing away the exhaustion, filling her with energy.
With renewed determination, she focused her magic on the stone. Arran’s strength intertwined with hers, and she used this combined force to haul her net of magic tighter, tighter, tighter, pulling with everything she had until finally, with a retort that shook the cave, the anchor stone cracked. The top half toppled backwards and crashed to the floor in a shower of dust.
Jenna collapsed onto her hands and knees, breathing heavily, hair falling forward to curtain her face. She felt dizzy but also slightly euphoric. She had done it! Correction:theyhad done it. She pushed herself onto her knees and turned to look at Arran.
He was kneeling behind her, both hands pressed against the smooth stone floor. His hair was matted to his face with sweat and his chest was heaving as if he’d just run a marathon. He looked up at her, blue eyes bright.
“We did it?”
Jenna nodded, feeling a grin spread across her face. “We did it!”
She felt the strongest urge to throw her arms around him but held herself back. Now was not the time. They might have broken Njord’s anchor stone but there was still a fleet of raiders fast approaching and she had yet to restore Skye’s magic.
From outside, she heard a sudden shout and then the twang of bowstrings. The air was suddenly filled with arrows and the shouting of men. The fleet of boats had almost reached the beach and now the occupants were flinging themselves over the side, some to avoid the arrows that were raining down on them, others in a bid to reach the shore. From either end of the beach, Arran’s warriors came running, a terrible, ululating battle cry coming from their throats.
The beach would soon be soaked in suffering and bloodshed. She had to stop it.
Arran was staring at the raiders too, his lips pulled back from his teeth in a snarl, the veins in his neck standing out. His biceps flexed as he strode to the cave entrance and raised his claymore, ready to fight anyone who tried to get close. But he couldn’t keep fighting forever. Sooner or later one of their blows would get through his defenses and Arran would get injured—or worse.
No,she thought.He won’t. I will not let that happen.
She had broken Njord’s anchor stone. Now all she had to do was repair Skye’s magic. She hurried to the back of the cave and went to her knees by the original anchor stone, taking a moment to trace her fingers along the whorls and glyphs carved into its surface. It was broken, dead. But that didn’t mean that it couldn’t be revived.
Closing her eyes, Jenna tried to shut everything out. The sound of roaring men and clashing steel that now sounded from the beach. The harsh rasp of Arran’s breathing as he guarded the cave mouth. The thump, thump, thump of her own rapid heartbeat.
There was only her and broken stone and the magic inside her.
She reached out and laid her palm flat against the anchor stone. The net of golden energy sprang into her mind immediately and now that the alien magic was gone, it seemed to shine brighter than before, almost incandescent in places.
Yet it was still black as pitch in others. Still corrupted. Still broken.
Gathering her magic, she channeled energy out into the golden net just as she’d done twice before. And just as before, she reached the holes in the net and paused. Despite breaking the influence of the alien magic, there was no change or sign of the magic healing itself. It needed help, and she was the only one able to give it.
She began weaving her power into strands and using them to bridge the gaps in the golden net. There was less resistance this time and she wove the patches with unexpected ease, the magic melding and growing beneath her touch as though eager to obey.
A thrill of elation went through her. Yes! It was working!
When every last drop of darkness had been patched, she drew the magic into the broken anchor stone and tied it off, completing the web. Then, slowly, carefully, she withdrew her magic. The golden net thrummed through the very bedrock of Skye, right from its origin at Bail Nan Cnoc, from the darkest cave to the highest peak. The land suddenly feltalive. She could feel the energy thrumming in every rock and blade of grass, in every tree and flower. Even the waves lashing against the shore suddenly seemed to hum with a life force of their own.
She turned to Arran. “Arran, I’ve—”
The words died on her lips. Raiders were swarming outside the cave mouth, fighting to gain entrance. Fighting to get to her. They were only stopped from doing so by Mal and a group of his men and a fierce battle was raging. The clang of steel on steel, the cries of wounded men, and the stink of blood filled the air. Arran had not moved from his position by the cave entrance but from the tense set of his shoulders, Jenna could see how much he longed to go join his men,how much it cost him to hold his position while they fought and died.
Jenna’s pulse ratcheted up several notches. Fear coursed through her like ice-water. What was happening? The magic was restored. Any enemy of Skye should not have been able to penetrate its magical wards. So why were they still fighting?
“I don’t understand,” she whispered, her voice hoarse as she stared at the carnage that was inching ever closer to where she knelt. “I fixed it. I fixed it!”
