“I think we need to concentrate on your ceremony first. After all, it’s only three days until Latharn makes an honest woman of you.” Trish nodded toward the desk, dropped the folders on the chair, and frowned at an oddly carved stone lying in the middle of the blotter. “What’s this? I thought we’d crated up this week’s artifacts. Whose head are you gonna have on a plate for leaving this one behind? And it’s not even properly labeled.”
Nessa rose from behind her desk, brow furrowed as she leaned closer to the ancient rock. “I’ve not seen this one before. Maybe they just found it this morning. But they know better than to bring it in here. I can’t imagine any of them being this careless. Every one of them has been more professional than I could have ever hoped.”
Nessa opened the drawer, fished out a pair of gloves, and snapped them on her wrists. She cupped the football-sized stone between her hands. Turning the stone, her eyes widened as a surge of energy jolted up her arms. She grimaced and tried to set the stone back down on the desk. She panicked when she realized she couldn’t pull her fingers away from its surface. “Trish, I can’t put it down! This thing won’t let me let it go!”
Trish rushed to her side, trying to grab the stone. Whenever she reached for the artifact in Nessa’s hands, the stone yanked itself, as well as Nessa, out of her reach. “This isn’t an artifact from the site, Nessa. That thing’s carrying some kind of a curse meant for you alone. You’ve got to find a way to put it down. You’ve got to concentrate on letting it go!”
Nessa struggled, pulling against the invisible force, her body trembling as she fought to break free. Terror overtook her with the realization that nothing she tried worked.
Nessa cried out, battling against her rising hysteria. “Get Latharn! He’ll know what to do. Hurry, Trish. Before it’s too late. Trish!” A roaring wind drowned out her words. The inside of the tent. Trish’s face. She couldn’t hear, couldn’t see the words Trish’s lips formed. Spinning. If she closed her eyes, she might be able to stand but she feared she’d never see Trish again. She stumbled, the spinning increased, and the out- of-focus whiteness snapped to black.
* * *
Latharn triedto get through Trish’s panic as she grabbed her keys and stumbled for the door. “Latharn,” she bellowed again at the top of her lungs. “Latharn! You’ve got to hear me. Nessa’s gone!”
He felt her attention focused on him. Latharn shushed her.“I am with ye, Trish. I can hear ye. Ye must calm down. We will save her. Just get here as quick and as safe as ye can.”
“She just disappeared. She just vanished!” Trish sobbed as she pounded on the steering wheel.
Latharn let her anger play itself out before speaking again.
Trish moaned. “Who the hell could’ve done this to her? Where could she be?”
“I swear to ye, Trish. We will find her. I did not wait six hundred years to be with my love only to have her torn away. And I will not forfeit my children either. Now, calm down and get here as soon as ye can.”
Alerted by the horn as Trish roared into the driveway, Latharn yanked open the door and pulled her from the seat almost before the tires had stopped turning. “Ye must tell me every detail of what happened at the site. Ye must leave nothing out if we are to find where Nessa has been sent.”
Trish blinked at him in confusion. “Where Nessa has been sent? You sound as though you expected this to happen. Are you telling me you knew she was in danger all along?”
How could he explain it? There wasn’t time. Raking his hands through his hair, Latharn struggled to make Trish understand.
Brodie rushed to his side. “Brodie and I have been watching increasing darkness, a growing disturbance among the mists and the ripples of time. We felt sure it was the evil of Gabriel Burns and his negativity disturbing the energies with his rage. But with this kind of magic, the strength of this kind of curse...I just don’t know for sure. We can take nothing for granted.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Fiona emerging from the outer shed. She was dusty from head to toe from searching through storage shelves. Pale, her eyes shadowed with shock, she brushed her hair back with a trembling hand. With a nod from Latharn, Fiona clutched at Trish’s hand. “I saw the vicious devil practicing the darkest of magic. I saw his altar once when he didn’t know I was around. But always before, his spells failed. That was part of the reason for all his anger.”
Latharn steadied Fiona’s shoulders as she shifted a box filled with jars labeled in an ancient script higher on her hip. Her dazed look deepened as she recalled Gabriel’s dark habits aloud. “As far as I knew, Gabriel was only capable of physical evil against women. Not once did any of his curses come to pass. I once found the journal he kept where he tried to discover what he did wrong. I just assumed he didna have the gift.”
Brodie growled and fisted his hands. “This time he will die if he’s the one to blame for this evil. We will send him to meet his master of darkness in the very pits of hell.”
Taking the box from Fiona and settling it in the back of the jeep, Latharn turned to find Trish glaring at all their faces.
“If he’s the one to blame?” she said. “You mean you’re not even sure Gabriel’s the one we’re after? If not, Gabriel, then who? Or what could be to blame for Nessa being zapped out of existence into thin air? Latharn, what’s going on? You promised me Nessa would be safe!”
His rage drummed the call to battle; his body tensed, ready to attack. Latharn jerked his head in Trish’s direction. He didn’t have time to explain, especially not to a novice such as Trish. Growling, he yanked open the back of the jeep. All this chatter solved nothing. They must get organized, plan their attack. They had to move. “Enough. There is no time for this banter. We must get to the castle. A hidden library is there that will aid us in our search. If we are unable to find her before the full moon, she may be lost to us forever. The autumnal equinox could realign the stars and hide her away from this reality for an untold number of years.”
Spurred into action by Latharn’s words, Fiona set the dusty carton down and held out her hand to Trish. “Come help me, Trish. We must gather the rest of the bottles and books that we’ve kept hidden here over the years.” Fiona pulled Trish by the arm and led the way to a hidden room behind the storeroom walls.
Latharn directed the two women as they filled every box until nothing remained in the room. He selected vials and bottles of morbid-looking objects, wrapping them to ensure they survived the journey. He packed ancient texts that would make any archeologist tremble in excitement. Latharn double-checked everything they packed, nodding his approval before each box was sealed.
He turned one last time to scan the now bare room, to ensure they’d left nothing behind. Latharn wouldn’t entertain the thought that they’d not get to Nessa in time.
They reached the castle just as the edge of the fiery orange sun had dipped below the horizon and the glowing white moon had begun to rise. The promising light shimmered upon the rippling waves of the ocean, oblivious to the malevolence in the air.
Latharn’s gaze settled on the home of his birth for the first time in hundreds of years. His chest tightened as memories of his childhood flooded his mind.
Shadows of children at play, of women as they bustled about the castle grounds danced before his eyes. Images of ancestors laughed, slapping each other on their backs as they walked their horses in from the courtyard gate. His emotions squeezed the wind from his chest as he watched three brothers laugh and wrestle in the mud.
Latharn shook himself free of the ghosts of the past and made his way into the great hall. Once Nessa was safely back at his side, the memories could surface then. He led the others to the northernmost tower and up the spiral steps. Yanking down on the iron sconce on the farthest wall, he waited for the timeworn stones to obey the forgotten command. An eternity passed before the answering grind of the stone gears rumbled from far beneath the floor.
