“Are ye ordering me now, brother?” Fire flashedin John’s eyes.
Another louder, more urgent shout. Bruce pulled a dagger from his belt and pointed it at Brianna.
“Just go check. I’ll keep an eye on these two.”
Scowling, John ducked out of the tent, leaving the two of them alone with Bruce. The moment he was gone, Jamie lunged for the dagger. Brianna yelped a muffled surprise as he shoved Bruce backward. The two of them struggled, each one vying for control of the weapon. They were locked in battle. Bruce stumbled backward toward her. She stuck out a foot and tripped him.
Down he went, tumbling to the hard ground with a muffled oof. As he did, Jamie snatched the dagger out of his hand and pointed it at the man.
“Stay down,” he warned.
A fine sheen of sweat was on Bruce’s face. He glared up at Jamie as he shoved to a sitting position, clutching his elbow.
“I know you have it. I can hear it calling to me,” he said.
Jamie ignored him as he scurried behind her and quickly slashed the rope binding her hands. She shoved off the gag and then she smelled it.
The acrid tang of smoke. Her eyes flew wide as she looked at Jamie.
“We havena much time.” He grabbed her by the hand and dragged her toward the tent flap.
Bruce was getting to his feet, sniffing the air. “You bloody fool. You killed us all.”
He charged toward Jamie, a snarl on his face, as he reached for him. Jamie ducked. Brianna spun in the tent, looking for something—anything—that could be used as a weapon, but the tent was sparsely decorated. She heard a sickening thump and realized Jamie had knocked him out. He lay sprawled on the dirt floor of the tent.
He reached for her hand, taking it, and pulling her to him. There was an urgency in his eyes as he looked at her. Then he held up hishand, showing her his burned palm. A burn that resembled hers.
“What—how?”
“When ye gave me the stone. The tapestries changed. I’m the one on the hill with ye. No’ yer sisters.”
“I don’t understand.”
“We have to go.”
He tugged her out of the tent. The camp was in chaos. The fire spread from both ends of the camp, heading for the middle, where they’d been. Flames licked the pale dawn sky, turning it into a chaotic inferno. Men shouted, running for water.
Worst of all was Rory MacDonald running for the tent wielding his great axe. Thankfully, the weapon wasn’t glowing. Yet.
The moment he saw them, his lips curled into a cruel snarl of a smile. Before they realized what was happening, they were surrounded. Jamie was ripped from her, their hands yanking apart. Someone grabbed her from behind while another one of the MacDonald men punched Jamie in the gut. He sputtered a breath as he doubled over.
His surrender was supposed to save her. Instead, it had doomed them all.
Rough hands wrenched her arms behind her back.
Figures emerged from the smoke and in the distance, she heard familiar voices shouting. Callum and Malcolm. Their plan to set the camp on fire had unraveled quickly. A blade was pressed to her throat as she stood rigid against the man holding her.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Callum and Malcolm fighting their way to them. One of them fell but she didn’t see who, as they were driving in retreat from the camp inferno. Smoke billowed into the sky and tumbled through the tents. She tried to hold her breath but she started to cough and sputter.
“Bring them!” MacDonald shouted.
He turned and fled the camp, heading away from it and toward the slope that would lead up to the castle ruins. Theman holding her wrapped a meaty hand around her arm and dragged her along. She stumbled and tripped over the edge of her gown, nearly falling face first. The only thing that kept her on her feet was the man.
It was hard to see through the smoke but as they headed away from disaster, she saw Rory MacDonald hold aloft his great axe.
It was glowing.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
