“We have our sacrifice, sister.”
Gaspar looked up to find the witch and her twin standing farther down the corridor. One carried a small torch.
“What do you mean?” he demanded. “What is to be sacrificed?”
They laughed. “Not what ye think, Dragon,” said one. “The passage requires both love and sacrifice. There is love aplenty, I see, but James will sacrifice many an adventure, I think, to go along.”
Her sister nodded. “Not to fear, giant. Ye may return to us yet. We canna say.”
James tipped his head to one side. “Ye canna say? Or ye doona ken?”
The sisters laughed. “We canna say.”
James grinned broadly and rubbed his hands together. “Weel then. Yer brother awaits, Isobelle.”
Gaspar tried not to think of Monty and Morna as just more people who will soon vie for Isobelle’s attention. That, in a way, was a sacrifice on his part.
Ewan took Isobelle’s hand and pulled her away. “Me bride awaits, as well, Isobelle. I must let ye go.” Then he gave a list of messages he wanted relayed to her brother. “And give Morna a kiss. And Jillian—that will make Monty sore, so dinna forget to do it, aye?”
“Who is Jillian?”
Ewan laughed. “Jillian is the faery lass. Did James not tell ye the tale?”
Gaspar resisted the urge to cross himself again, but he thought that since the Muir Witches had been real people, then maybe this faery would be as well. His heart lightened instantly when Isobelle returned to his side and slid her hand into his.
They moved further into the cellars, then filed into a small room. He thought it ridiculous to climb up into the small stone tomb, but he could not falter for Isobelle’s sake. He simply placed all his trust in James.
And if James had led them astray, Gaspar would beat him to a bloody puddle.
“Dinna fash,” James repeated once the three of them were inside. “We’ll just cover the hole here…” He scooted a heavy round of wood, a slice of a stump, into the hole at their feet without bothering to light a torch beforehand.
“Where is the door?” Gaspar reached out and pushed against the nearest wall.
“There is no door but the hole in the floor.” James said. “But I think it best if we hold tight to each other for a moment before we open it.”
“James,” Gaspar said with warning in his voice. “Where do we go from here?”
A large hand reached out and took hold of Gaspar’s tunic. “It is not so much that we go anywhere. But I believe the tomb itself…goes, and we are…taken.”
“You are mad!” Gaspar whispered. Then he noticed Isobelle was shaking again. “Here. Open the hole again. We are finished with this.”
James’s hand held firm for a minute more. Then he sighed. “I hope it was long enough.”
There was a bit of whispering in the room below and as James fumbled with the wood, Gaspar grew more and more furious. But he would see Isobelle tended to before he took her kin to task. No matter what their secrets, their silliness could not be overlooked. First thing in the morning, she could bid them all a final fare thee well, and together, they would be gone from this place.
“Witches,” he sneered to himself.
The hole in the floor was suddenly open and the room below much brighter than when they’d left it.
“Don’t be grumbling about witches,Dragon.” An ancient woman frowned up at him. “You’ll thank us before the day is done.”
A strange ladder was suspended below the hole and James climbed down upon it first. Then the device was gone and a large man stood beneath the hole and frowned as the old woman had. “Is she up there, James? Ye didna come back without her, did ye?”
“Nay, Monty. She’s there, if her dragon will let her out.”
“Monty!” Isobelle fell to her knees. Then suddenly she squeaked and tipped forward. Gaspar barely caught her by the backs of her calves.
“Here, now. Let her go, ye bastard. I’ve got her, but ye must let her go.”
