This was worse than she’d expected. More dangerous. With a wound like this, it was much more likely that something vital was punctured. Only the most skilled healers could fix something like that. The most skilled healers were in Tara, days away.

  “Are you okay?” Edana frantically ran her hands over his stomach and chest before she pushed down on the open wound to staunch the bleeding.

  Phelan hissed out a breath. “Easy woman,” he snapped. He opened his eyes to look up at her, but they were glazed with pain. “Likely your care will do me in before anything else.”

  Edana glared down into his golden eyes.

  He gave a weak chuckle. “I don’t think it hit anything vital. We just need to stop the bleeding and find a healer.”

  Edana ripped the material of Phelan’s tunic and tied it tightly around his body.

  “I think you’re supposed to rip your own clothing. That’s what the ladies in the fairy stories do.” He offered a weak smile.

  Those ladies in the stories were idiots. Your shirt’s already torn and bloody. Why ruin my perfectly good one?”

  Phelan grinned before reaching up to check the scratch on Edana’s head. He wiped the blood away with his thumb. Edana felt her skin tingle, like a gentle hum just under the surface.

  “It’s not deep, and the bleeding’s already slowing. Were you hit anywhere else?”

  “My shoulder.”

  Edana sucked in a breath to scream as Phelan reached up to examine it. He wasn’t a very tender caregiver either. He pulled the material of her tunic aside.

  “It’s bruised pretty badly, but I don’t think it’s dislocated.”

  Edana released her breath carefully and pulled the material over her shoulder again. When his eyes met hers, Edana thought she’d never wanted to cry so badly. She hurt. She was exhausted, but Phelan needed to see a healer. Sleep would have to wait.

  But for one brief moment she let her eyes drift closed as she offered a silent thank you to the gods, followed by an apology for the lives they took to survive. Her guilt didn’t make up for it, but the justification lessened the guilt a bit.

  “Edana, I’m not feeling very well.” With that, his eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out.

  Edana lifted the makeshift bandage away from his skin to see that the wound was now angry red. She knew basic field dressings--her father had insisted she learn--but she’d never seen a wound go bad so quickly. The only likely explanation was poison.

  She had to get him to a healer immediately. What was the best way to pick up a wounded man almost twice her size when she was injured as well?

  It seemed her silent thanks to the gods had been a bit premature.

  CHAPTER 21--IANNA

  Ianna laughed quietly to herself as she made her way through the dark and damp depths of the tunnel leading out of the citadel. Likely hysteria was setting in, she told herself. She thought Edana would be proud of her resourcefulness. She’d even remembered to grab the money she’d stolen from Morfram’s office.

  Everyone in the family knew of the hidden passage leading from the King’s chambers. It had been opened nearly a hundred years before in case the walls of Tara should ever be breached and the king needed to make an escape. Her father had told Ianna and Edana about the passage years before. Excited and intrigued, they had explored and delved its secrets.

  Knowing the way out wasn’t the problem. The problem had been getting from her room to her father’s. The guards were making it difficult to do anything. Ianna had hidden behind the door and screamed softly. She didn’t want to draw guards from other parts of the citadel. When the man ran into her room, Ianna hit him over the head with a leg she’d pried off her dressing chair. After he’d crashed to the floor, Ianna ran. She didn’t even bother to check if he was still alive.

  She stumbled her way through the tunnel toward freedom, holding a chair leg and laughing. It had been ridiculously simple, which was why she couldn’t help but think that something was about to go horribly wrong.

  When fresh air and the muted light of the moon hit her face, Ianna knew that the tunnel would soon end. Her vision was beginning to lighten when a man-sized shadow stepped into her view. She swung out with the chair leg, felt it make contact. With her eyes squeezed shut, she couldn’t tell with what or who. Then her target began cursing. Ianna’s eyes snapped open and she lunged toward the figure, embracing him as tightly as she could manage. She’d never been so happy to see anyone in her entire life.

  “Hey no, Ianna,” Kyl said as he pulled back. “Are you alright?”

  Ianna nodded and blinked the moisture that threatened to spill over out of her eyes. “We need to get out of here. I don’t know how long it will be before the rest of the guards know I’m gone.”

  Kyl hugged her again briefly and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “You’re right. I’ve got horses and supplies nearby.” He stepped back and grabbed her hand before turning to pull her along with him. “Let’s go.”

  After her adrenaline rush left her, Ianna was too exhausted to question what he was doing there. As they made their way to the horses and freedom, Ianna told herself she would be sure to get the full story later.

  ***

  “What do you mean you left her with Phelan?” Ianna demanded as they rode west.

  Kyl sighed and only irritated her more. Ianna would prefer to have this argument with both feet on the ground. It would have made it easier to give Kyl the beating he deserved for leaving her sister, and his own best friend, with a criminal.

  As if reading her thoughts, Kyl explained. “There are some…things I’ve learned about Phelan.” His voice was hesitant.

  “Like?”

  “Phelan used to work as one of Cian’s spies.”

  “What does that matter?” Ianna interrupted. “Morfram just proved that we can’t trust anyone other than ourselves.”

  Kyl held up a hand. “Will you let me finish? Phelan is Aral’s son.” He held up a hand again when Ianna started to speak again. “And Aral, who is a sneaky bastard, I might add, is--or was--your father’s spymaster. Aral sent Phelan to protect Edana after Cian died.”

  Ianna stood in shock for a moment. Then the questions and doubts began assailing her all at once. “If Aral worked for my father, why is he helping Morfram? And how did we not meet Phelan before now?”

  “Aral said it was part of his job. Cian told him to stay close to Morfram. And I didn’t get the full story on Phelan. I was more worried about you.”

  Ianna offered a smile. It was nice to be worried about. “Ok, but why doesn’t Aral just kill Morfram now and end all this?”

  “I honestly don’t know.” Kyl ran a hand over his short brush of hair in frustration. “Morfram’s been buying and turning soldiers against the crown. I don’t know what would happen if Aral killed him. Someone else might come forward to lead these rebels, or the mercenaries might turn on the civilians in Tara. Who’s to say?

  “Do you trust him?”

  “Who? Aral or Phelan?’

  “Both, I guess.”

  “I trust Aral,” Kyl said slowly. “I’ve known him for a long time.”

  “But he’s a spy. Lying is his job.”

  “It doesn’t change anything for me. A good man is a good man. Aral’s helped me out enough over the years to get the benefit of the doubt.”

  Ianna nodded, considering. “What about Phelan?”

  “I don’t know exactly. The man’s an ass, no doubt about that, but he seems capable enough. If Aral says he’ll protect Edana, then I believe him.” Kyl hesitated before continuing. “At the same time, there’s something he isn’t saying. Something important. I know it.”

  As he told her the rest about the Druid woman sending them west toward the cliffs of Moher, Donal working for Morfram, his meeting with Aral, and planning her rescue, Ianna was consumed with a sense of uselessness. And disillusionment. Not for the first time. Her father was dead, her mother taken, the person she considered an uncle was trying to kill her sister for reasons unknown, and her sister was on a mission from Fal to recover a sacred sword that held unknown powers so she could rescue their mother and defeat Morfram. To top it all, Edana had only the mysterious Phelan for help.

  Ianna had thought being locked in her room without a clue as to what was going on outside her four walls was bad. She had once longed for adventure. She’d never dreamed it would be anything like this.

  “What are we going to do?” she asked.

  “We’re going west. If we’re lucky, we can catch up with Edana before she reaches the cliffs. I want to be there in case something goes wrong.”

  “I’m not a fighter, Kyl. I won’t be any help if it comes down to that.”

  Kyl reached over and squeezed her hand. “You have other strengths. Your mind, for one. You’re clever. You think through everything. If we’re going to help Edana get the sword and save your mother, we’ll need a plan.”

  “You don’t think Edana will already have one?” Ianna asked doubtfully. “She’ll probably have several in case something else goes wrong.”

  Kyl shook his head. “Edana has blind spots. Morfram knows her and how she thinks. For some reason, this is personal for him, which means he already knows how she’ll react to anything he throws at her. She’ll need you to think creatively. You weren’t trained the same way Edana was, so your solutions could be what save us. Stop doubting yourself,” he said firmly. “And stop comparing yourself to Edana. You’re not her, and she’s not you. Focus on how you can help.”

  Ianna blinked owlishly at his words. Kyl sounded a little angry there at the end, and for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why. She didn’t compare herself to Edana. At least, not much. It was natural for her to look up to her big sister. Edana was strong and beautiful, after all. She could fight. She’d been included in their father’s meetings with his council of nobles. Edana was a leader. Ianna had never needed to be.

  She opened her mouth to respond, to explain, but nothing came out. Her throat felt thick. She nodded and cleared her throat. “You’re right.”

  Kyl grinned, letting her know that his anger had passed. “I’m always right. I’ve been telling you this for years.”

  Ianna shook her head in mock disgust as they continued to ride. Kyl was right. She couldn’t use a sword or a bow as Edana could. That didn’t mean she didn’t have weapons of her own. Her mind was her greatest weapon. She would use it to destroy Morfram for what he was doing to her family. She just needed to work out a plan.

  For one brief moment Ianna felt her heart flutter. They were on the run from Morfram and his soldiers to find her mother and sister. She fervently hoped they would prevent a civil war, as well. Despite all the darkness and fear of the past week, and likely, the near future, there was one bright light that she would cherish all her life. Kyl, the man she had secretly loved for years, the man who came back for her when he knew she was in trouble, was riding next to her, his fingers still intertwined with hers.

  Ianna would find a way to beat Morfram. She had to, because she didn’t think she could live without the absolute rightness she felt at that moment.

  CHAPTER 22--MORFRAM

  “What do you mean she’s gone?” Morfram asked, his voice cold and deceptively quiet.

  The soldier, a recent hire, stood before him and held a hand to his bleeding head. “I heard a scream, sir. When I went in to check on the princess, someone hit me from behind. I don’t know how long I was out, sir, but when I woke up, she was gone.”

  “And what did you do next?”

  “I came to tell you, sir.”

  Morfram sighed. Instead of sounding the alarm to lock down the citadel, the idiot had run to tell him that his prisoner was getting away. His actions, or lack thereof, practically guaranteed that she already had escaped.

  Morfram stepped toward the man and struck a hard blow to his face, knocking him to his knees. “You’ve just caused a serious dent in my plans.”

  “Sorry, s-sir,” the man stammered.

  “I’m sure you are,” Morfram hissed as he took the ornate dagger off his belt. “And your mistakes will serve as a reminder to the others that it would be wise not to disappoint me.”

  “Sir?” the man asked, confused by Morfram’s now out-stretched hand. When his master said nothing, the man gripped his hand and was pulled to his feet. Before he could react, Morfram’s dagger was buried in his stomach.

  Driven by the man’s obvious pain, Morfram pulled his dagger out and stabbed again and again and again. When the rage cleared, Morfram stared at the bloody heap on the floor at his feet. The soldier was now unrecognizable. His body was torn and mutilated.

  Morfram turned and raised the dagger again as his chamber doors opened.

  Aral walked in and looked down at the body on the floor. One eyebrow lifted, and he frowned slightly.

  Morfram sheathed his dagger and wiped his blood-covered hands on his own tunic. “Have someone clean this mess up. And our timetable’s just been moved up. We leave for Moher at once.”

  “Ah. So you know Ianna’s escaped?”

  “How very observant you are, Aral. How, may I ask, did you come by this information?”

  “I saw her riding north out of the city,” Aral answered dryly.

  “And you just let her go?”

  Aral shrugged. “She wasn’t necessary to the plan.”

  “She was necessary to my plan!” Morfram yelled.

  Aral only shrugged again. “I was fond of the girl. I would rather watch her escape, where, I might add, she can do no harm to you, than have your thugs rape her for your amusement.”

  “Careful, Aral. I won’t tolerate your insubordination. For your information, I had no such plans for Ianna. I wanted Edana to think that was the plan. I’m pleased even you bought it. Next time, though, when I give an order, you follow it.”

  Aral gave a small smile and bowed before leaving the room.

  Morfram kicked the body at his feet. In the past twenty-four hours, his spymaster had suddenly gained a conscience, Donal hadn’t returned with Edana in tow, and he’d lost control of his temper.

  He glanced down again at the result of his own violent temper.

  He detested it.

  Not the killing. Morfram learned at a young age that killing carried a thrill with it. The heart would pound. Senses could be dulled or heightened depending on the method used. Morfram enjoyed many different methods. But he hated to lose control.

  He moved to his wardrobe and took out a clean pair of breeches and a dark-colored tunic. He changed quickly. Order, even in one’s clothing, was a reflection of that person.

  Briefly he turned back to the body and smiled down at it. Despite losing his temper, the violence of the act had been cathartic. He suspected that when Edana’s death came, he would know true joy.

  The thought made him chuckle. Just the thought of her blood on his hands, splattering his face, was intoxicating. Only a few more days.

  CHAPTER 23--EDANA

  “Wake up already, you bastard,” Edana growled at Phelan’s prone body. He’d been unconscious for nearly a full day.

  Luckily, they had been close to the village of Lahinch when he passed out. From there, it had been a simple matter to find the healer since the healer’s wife ran the only inn in the village.

  The withered, white-haired man had been waiting for them. He cleaned and stitched Phelan’s wounds and spoon fed him broth, while the man’s plump, younger wife had brought bread and cheese for Edana.

  After Edana ate, the healer Gwidd, applied liniment to soothe Edana’s aching shoulder and told her to get some sleep. She’d slept for nearly eight hours. When she woke, she’d hoped Phelan would be well enough to continue.

  That wasn’t the case.

  “Phelan, please wake up. We don’t have time for this. You’re the one who said you would help me, and I don’t want to leave you here when you’re hurt, but I need to find my mother. It might hurt your feelings--if you even have any--but my mother means more to me than you do.” Edana laughed, but the sound was hollow. “I don’t even know you. The gods and this stupid situation forced you on me. I’m pretty sure I still don’t like you, but for some reason I don’t feel comfortable leaving here without you. For better or worse, we’re in this together.” And you were hurt because of me, she added silently.

  If she hadn’t been so determined to help the people of Loughrea, they would have noticed the trap sooner. Phelan had been the one to pay the consequences. Edana thought again how right Ianna had been about her. Her arrogance was responsible for the situation. Next time, she promised herself, she would stop and think about her actions before she got someone else hurt. For now they were stuck here until Phelan healed.

  “There’s a reason for your unease, child.”

  Edana whirled around at the sound of that deep, ringing voice. Fal stood behind her but soon walked to the other side of the bed. He looked down at the sleeping Phelan with an odd look on his face.

  “He looks so much like his mother.”

  Edana looked down as well. Even in sleep, the planes and angles of his face were sharp. His stubbled cheeks made him look rough, as always, but his mouth had softened and relaxed. Edana reached out to brush away a lock of hair that had fallen in his face. “She must have been beautiful then,” she blurted.

  Fal chuckled. “She died when he was only a boy. She was the most beautiful woman ever born. She was kind as well. People or animals, it didn’t matter.”

  “So you knew her?”

  “She was my daughter.”

  Edana blinked up at him. “What? Phelan’s your grandson?”

  Fal only smiled.

  “Why didn’t either of you tell me?” She was slightly mad at Phelan. They’d agreed to share information. This qualified as information.

  “He was to be the one to tell you when the time was right.”

  “What does that even mean? When the time is right?” Edana paced away from the bed before turning back. “I knew he was hiding something, but how could he hide something like this? How could you?”

 

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