I force myself to steady my breathing and gather my wits. Edging around the doorway, I peek into the room. My father lies on hisbed, his eyes closed. He shows no sign of struggle or injury. If I didn’t know better, I might think he was taking a peaceful nap.
Harold MacVeigh leans over him, a dagger clutched in his trembling hand. His face is red and it’s hard to know for sure from this distance, but it looks like tears are streaming down his cheeks.
A woman stands on the opposite side of the bed, her arms crossed over her chest, her gold eyes flashing with malevolence. Lady M.
“You are weak and foolish. This is your destiny. This is my destiny! You know what has been Seen. Slit his throat!” Her screeches echo around the room, and I recoil from the sound.
I can’t see the other two from my position, can’t see if any others perch around the perimeter of the room. I hate the idea of going in half-blind, but I can’t wait much longer. Lady M’s rage is growing, her anger flustering MacVeigh even more.
All I have going for me is the element of surprise. And so I use it.
I dart into the room, heading right for MacVeigh. I tackle him to the ground, pinning him beneath me and knocking the knife free from his grip. It barely registers that this dagger is familiar, that I’ve run my finger over the ruby buried in its hilt when it was attached to Cate’s thigh.
A second later, I’m hit from behind, the wind pushed from my lungs as my body hits the floor. My attacker rolls me underneath her. Her fists pummel into my sides and I curl up, trying to protect myself. Her blows hurt, but they’re accompanied by a deeper pain that reaches down to my bones.
Lady M is shrieking, but I can’t make out any of the words as my attacker shifts her punches to my face.
Whatever hold she or her companion had on my father, though, seems to have dissipated when she turned her focus away. He heaves himself from the bed, kicking my attacker in the ribs, giving me enough space to shove her off me and jump to my feet.
“Run,” I tell my father, slashing out with my dagger and connecting with the woman’s shoulder.
She grunts but isn’t deterred, coming at me again. I’m bigger than she is, but she’s fast and her strength doesn’t seem to be waning. I dart out of the way, but she crashes into my father instead.
I bring my knife down on her back, but she spins before I can do real damage. Hoisting my father from the ground, I shove him in the direction of the door. “Go!”
“I’m not leaving you.” He glares at me and grabs for one of my knives.
I know we don’t have time to argue, so I turn my back to him, placing myself in the direct line of the attacker.
The two of us have been able to keep her at bay, but it looks like Lady M’s screeches have finally had an effect and MacVeigh comes at my father as the woman charges at me.
The room fills with the sounds of our fighting, grunts and cries as knives make contact. Thuds as we hit the ground and punches land. I can’t pull my attention from my opponent for even a second, so I let the sound of the fighting behind me reassure me that for now at least, my father is still alive.
I manage to swipe a large gash across my attacker’s belly, finally causing her steps to falter. Her hand moves to stanch the bleeding as she falls to her knees.
I use this time, spinning around to help my father just in time to see MacVeigh’s knife raised over his head. Just in time to watch it plunge into my father’s chest, that red ruby glinting in the firelight.
Everything goes still for just a moment, as if the whole world is frozen.
MacVeigh’s eyes meet mine, and the shock I feel is mirrored in his expression.
Time seems to slow, as muddy and thick as my head.
I move toward my father, my steps stilted and slow. I still manage to catch him as he collapses to the floor, his weight pulling both of us down to the ground.
MacVeigh stands over us, the bloody knife held limply in his hand, crimson drops splattering the floor.
I hold my father, one hand supporting his head, the other uselessly trying to stem the blood spilling from his chest, as if I can somehow manage to push it all back in, as if I can rewind the clock. It coats my hand in sticky scarlet and I know the sight will never be erased from my mind, my hand covered in my father’s blood.
“Callum.” My name slips from his mouth, choked and gasping. A trail of scarlet dribbles down his chin.
I tear my gaze from the blood and meet his eyes. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have…I should have…” I press my forehead to his. Part of me is unwilling to believe I’ve let this happen. The other knows I need to make my amends before it’s too late. “I’m so sorry.”
His hand reaches up, grasping for my cheek. “No time for that.” He sucks in a wheezing breath and another line of blood trickles from his lips. “Find a way. Protect Scota. You are the leader the world needs. Find a way.”
My grip on him tightens and tears clog my throat. “I will.”
“I love you, son.”
