"Language barrier still a wee bit of a problem, is it?"

"Driscoll remains behind-and aye-"

"I will give it, PenDragon."

He met his gaze, a challenge in his eyes. "How much do you offer to heal this land?"

"My word, my honor."

Gaelan searched his eyes for the lie and didn't find it. He nodded, then held out his hand. They clasped, fist over wrist in a warrior's bond. "'Twill do-for now."

With a quirk of his lips, Ian stepped back, then headed to his horse, and Gaelan wheeled Grayfalk toward the gates.

Rhiannon raced to his side. "What will you do with him?"

Gaelan's face was an unforgiving mask as he stared down at her. "I would sever his hide from his body, but we need him to end this."

"He forfeits the lives of his family, they all do"-she gestured to the bloodstain in the dirt without looking-"to help you."

Gaelan refused to be baited by her tears. Had she spoken up, this would have been solved faster. Had Patrick come to him, he could have stopped this feud before so many were slaughtered like livestock. He leaned down and said, "I have no more mercy."

She staggered in horror.

The young O'Donnel stepped forward. "My lord. O'Niell keeps the families in Coleraine." Gaelan's brows shot up. "'Tis why there is so little to share, I'm thinkin'. There are too many new families without men to hunt and protect."

Gaelan nodded, then called for his soldiers. "Markus. a.s.semble three squads, take two wagons of provisions to Coleraine with young O'Donnel here, and bring back any who wish to live in Donegal."

"Or south," Ian said, his mount sidestepping.

Gaelan eyed him for a moment, then called for Driscoll. "You are in command." Driscoll frowned, clearly wanting to join the search, yet did not gainsay the order. "I want a guard on her every second." He pointed to Rhiannon, then met her gaze. "Your sister will have no say in your fate, Rhiannon, understand this. Tend to DeClare and my son."

Driscoll grasped her arm, ushering her toward the keep. Gaelan ordered the weapons and mounts restored to Maguire's men, the prisoner under Ian's supervision. Ian crossed to Patrick. Before he reached him, Rhiannon tore from Driscoll's grasp, her body slamming against Patrick's, arms clutching him, her sobs m.u.f.fled against his chest.

"Shhh, love, shhh," he murmured against her hair. "Do not cry for me."

"I cannot bear it."

"You will, you must. We were never meant to be, not in this life. Our treachery has done this and we must suffer the price."

His voice was resigned and she hated it, hated that she could not have the man she loved, that he'd abandoned her only to return and destroy them again. She tilted her head back to meet his gaze.

"Give me my dignity in this and keep your own." His voice fractured, softened. "Do not let my last sight of you be in tears." He bent and kissed her, a ferocious soul-stripping match that stirred all who looked on. Then he stepped back and allowed himself to be hoisted into the saddle and bound to it. Ian took the leads, riding after PenDragon.

Patrick looked back over his shoulder only once. Rhiannon stood alone and proud, honoring him with her stiff spine, her unshed tears. They pa.s.sed through the gates and she remained perfectly still until they closed behind him.

Then she sank to her knees and wept for the forever her lies had cost her.

Chapter 33.

The sea raged, the crush hammering at her stone prison. Rain splattered, and she flinched with each drop, the icy water sizzling against her body. The air was colder, the breeze swifter, brushing her hair back from her face as she lifted her head. She glanced about, suddenly aware she was not alone.

Across from her perch, a yawning hole stood where a door had once been. The storm cast shadows darker than night, silhouetting the figure framed in the crooked stone entrance.

She cursed him behind the gag.

He chuckled, thinly sinister and brittle with suppressed anger. And madness.

"I wish I could kill you now."

Her eyes spoke for her. Do it then.

"Not yet."

Suddenly he leapt the empty s.p.a.ce between them, stones falling over the crumbling edge of the floor, and Siobhan pressed against the wall till it bit into her back. He squatted and pulled the gag from her mouth.

She spat, working feeling into her jaw. "Who are you?" She could not see his face.

But he snickered as if she was a fool.

She felt the shielding warmth of his body as he moved closer, then the coldness of a blade against her unprotected cheek. "So pretty," he whispered and with a quick flick, p.r.i.c.ked her skin.

She turned her face away, but he caught it, forcing her to meet a gaze she could not see. "Why do you do this? I know naught of you."

"I know. 'Tis the sweetest victory, my lady." He's English, she thought. "You will die and never know by whose hand."

"Then what victory is that?"

"Only mine." He dragged the blade against her jaw, down the slender column of her throat, and Siobhan told herself if he wanted her dead, he would have done it before now. Was he a coward? Or just taunting her?

"Her face peeled away from her skull like the rind of an apple," he whispered close to her ear, and cold wracked her. "She stared into my eyes as I took her nose, her lips."

Siobhan's stomach recoiled at the image.

"She was alive then," he hissed. "Alive." He tisked, a sound lacking in sympathy or remorse. "'Twas you I wanted. Only you."

"Why?"

"'Tis my right!"

"Who are you?"

"Your king."

Shadows moved.

Stones crunched.

Lightning cracked in rapid succession, glowing the sky a blistering white and gleaming off the silver blade in his hand.

She inhaled, wrenching back as the tip neared her throat. A swipe, and she felt the sting rip across her skin.

He leapt the creva.s.se, his figure a winged beast in the dark. "Know that whilst you sit here in your lavish castle, bleeding your precious regal blood, the b.a.s.t.a.r.d will breathe his last."

Her breath shrank in her lungs. Oh dear G.o.d!

His knowing laugh slithered between the raindrops. Ugly. Poisonous. "Suffer, lady of Donegal. For all you cherish will be dead by morn."

Siobhan cursed him, aware she was alone again.

My family dies this night, she thought, tugging wildly at her bonds.

Blood dripped faster down her throat, a warm rivulet splattered by the rain.

Thunder shook the land, threatening to tear it apart. But it was the beat of hooves that brought the villagers out and to the edge of the street as the PenDragon rode into the tiny hamlet.

He skidded to a halt as Fionna raced forward. "Where is she?" he demanded, and when her expression fell, Gaelan lost the last vestiges of hope. He bowed his head, raking his hand over his face and releasing a long, shuddering breath. "Oh G.o.d."

Ian observed him, the agony in his features he thought no one saw, the way his hand shook slightly as he brought it to the pommel. The way his fingers tightened, and the wood beneath the leather cracked.

Fionna stared up at PenDragon and hated to add another burden to the pile weighing his broad shoulders. "Forgive me, PenDragon."

Gaelan frowned, sliding from the saddle. She was terrified. "I will not take this out on you, woman. My G.o.d -"

"Then why do you bring him?" She inclined her head to the Maguire.

Gaelan sent a speculating glance his way. "Not as well loved as you think, eh, Irish?"

Ian left his saddle with a jolt. "She holds a grudge." Fionna advanced on Ian like a hawk to a mouse, and the man stood his ground, his expression masked. "Because of my deed for you, I was banished, Maguire. I have lost my home, my family. Only for this one sennight in years have I known my cousin again." Tears glossed her eyes and Gaelan stepped protectively closer. "And when she is found, they will all turn their backs on me again!" With two hands, she shoved his chest and whirled away.

Gaelan ordered Ian to stay put and followed Fionna, catching her arm and forcing her around. The proud Irish Wiccan stared at her bare feet.

"Forgive my behavior, PenDragon. 'Twas foolish to waste energy on that man. I should simply turn him into a toad and cage him."

Gaelan gazed down at her bowed head, thinking her much like her cousin and wondering what crime she'd committed to get herself banished.

She sniffled, composed, and lifted her gaze. "I found the hole in the earth."

"Show me."

Returning to the mounts, Gaelan swung up onto the saddle, hoisting her before him.

He leaned close to whisper, "He lives, la.s.s."

Her posture withered with relief and Gaelan wondered how long she'd have waited to ask.

"Stupid English fool. I warned him not to go." Gaelan heard the affection in her voice. "DeClare is stubborn to his duty."

"DeClare?" She twisted to meet his gaze, clearly shocked. "Pembroke's-?"

"Nephew, aye," he finished. "He's rather proud of the a.s.sociation. I am surprised he did not mention it."

"He was not in the mood for talking."

Gaelan's lips flattened into a thin line. "He does not recall you any more than a dream, I fear."

"Good. He does not believe my kind exist."

"Neither did I, but then, he will survive a killing wound only because of your help."

She twisted to meet his gaze. "'Twas magic that saved him, PenDragon, not me."

"Then for both, I am in your debt."

She looked skeptical.

"You have my word; ask, and if I can provide, I will."

Her gaze sketched him again, as if testing the truth in her mind before she faced forward, silent as they rode into the forest, the trees thick with bramble and low, dying branches. She called him to halt, then she slipped to the ground, going down on her knees and feeling the earth. Gaelan followed.

"'Twas here, I swear!"

Gaelan knelt, touching her shoulder. "I know it is, la.s.s. Be patient."

"How can you be when she is gone, English?"

"I have no other choice."

Under a flash of lightning, Fionna saw it. He was in agony, tormented with the unknown. Fear clawed at his will and she admired him for his restraint, for the heart so strong he would keep his composure when he was wont to rage.

"Here, PenDragon." Ian pulled the ring, the rope, then heaved. "'Tis empty."

Gaelan spun away and paced, grinding a rut in the earth. No one spoke, no one moved. The rain came, quick and drenching, and still none uttered a word; Even as his boots splashed. Even as lightning severed the blackened sky. Then he stilled, and in a burst of paralyzed rage he threw his head back and roared like the dragon he was named.

"Feel better?"