Page 53 of Rory

“Good to have goals.” Harper knew if she messed with him he might order his zombies to rip her into little pieces, and now that the enchantment was busy eating itself instead of fixing and healing things she might not be put back together again. “Look, Torra isn’t the only MacBren in the spell trap. Maybe you should try a reasonable substitute.”

“Her father doesn’t count.” His eyes narrowed. “You’re not talking about Turo. It’s you. That’s why you remind me of her.”

Harper grinned. “Last of the MacBren, right here.” As he raised his hand she added, “Probably shouldn’t do that. I was born inside a very special tree, and lived there until I was seven.”

Beaumont’s expression darkened. “So that’s what it is. A Fae-spawned freak like you should have been killed the moment you stepped foot in the mortal realm.”

“Not spawned, Stinky,” she countered, and reached into her pocket for the shielding stone Rory had given her. “Protected.”

The apricot glow that began radiating from her as she gripped the stone made the goblin’s stench vanish as if burned away. Beaumont shuffled back until he bumped into one of his creatures.

“It’s not too late for you.” Harper lifted her hand to admire the pretty light shining from her skin. “I won’t hurt you if you march this bunch back out of here. I can’t help you when the spell trap collapses, but if you stop now maybe the Gods or whatever will take pity and only have you burn in eternal fire for half of forever.”

“Fuck you, you overgrown red-headed freak.” He turned his back on her and said to the army, “Take the castle. Kill everyone who stands in your way.”

Flaming arrows zipped over Harper’s head, raining down on Beaumont and his zombies like fiery hail from the stronghold’s window slits. She turned and ran for the stronghold, stumbling a little as the radiant apricot glow of her power started to spread out in front of her like a shield.

“I’m okay,” she muttered, holding her arm to keep her shoulder from moving. “Protect the castle, why don’t you?”

The glow suddenly dispersed on either side of her, and she reached the door to the kitchens just as an arrow buried itself in the wood an inch from her cheek. The door opened and Doon dragged her inside. Three guards then rushed to close the door and brace it with their shoulders.

“Put back the barricade, lads.” The cook shoved firewood back into the only open window slit before she turned to Harper and grabbed her, careful to avoid the broken arrow in her shoulder as she hugged her tightly. “Never do such again to me, lass.”

I probably won’t get a chance to. Wait, no, I don’t have to. In that moment she solved the riddle Torra had told her, and it stunned her. Okay, so how do I make that happen?

Harper became distracted by a peachy glow outside the slats of the window. That made her look down at her hands, where the same glow was starting to fade from her fingers. Whatever power she’d had, she was pretty sure she’d successfully used it to shield the castle. She also guessed that wouldn’t last forever. The reason the arrow had found her, however, was another problem. When she opened her fist, the shielding stone Rory had given her had crumbled into a little mound of dust.

I don’t need his druid magic to survive this. I can survive this with my own power. All I need to know is how I can free everyone.

“We must remove this arrow and bandage your shoulder,” the cook said.

“It can wait,” she told Doon. The answer to all this was hovering, just out of reach, but she had the sense that it would come to her soon. “Where are Ava and Tasgall?”

“Watch yourself, lad.” Darro jerked Sawney to one side as an arrow came flying at his chest. “The MacBren’s just arrived, and he’s sent his archers to take the inner wall. The watchers and guards, they’re barely holding back the army of slog. Shall this Gods-cursed day never end?”

The other man looked down from the outer curtain wall where the men stood and pointed at a strange river of apricot light flowing around the stronghold. “The fack is that, Chieftain?”

From the color it seemed to be magic cast by their new arrival, Darro guessed. If that was her intent, she’d done well to protect the stronghold with her power. If it held it would buy their defenders inside some time to barricade doors and set up some traps against the MacBren’s faceless archers and the army of the dead. Esme would be safe inside with the castle defenders for a time; that left him to deal with either one enemy or the other.

“Hey, mi Corazón.” The small dark figure of his lady darted out from the weapons cache and dodged several arrows as she came to squeeze between him and Sawney. As she saw his face she pouted. “You forgot again during battles I don’t hide with the girls. I sneak out and fight with you.”

He pulled her close, holding her against him while he fought back the urge to shake her until her teeth chattered. “You shall end me, no’ the MacBren or the slog.”

Esme wriggled until she could pull back enough to kiss the cleft in his chin. “Then I’ll kill myself and we’ll go together. No, Sawney, don’t stand up or you’ll get an arrow in the face. It’s happened like nine hundred times before now and it always grosses me out. Don’t you think you should become a cook or something safer?”

The clansmen chuckled and then suddenly vanished.

“Some of those the MacBren slew in the past that the enchantment returned, they’re being taken again,” Darro said as she gasped, and stroked his hand over her back.

“Poor guy. Whatever Harper did, it’s keeping them from storming the castle.” She wrinkled her nose. “I caught a whiff of Beaumont—that Bodach guy—from the window slit near the lists. He smells so bad he’s like a hundred skunks mixed with toxic waste, but he doesn’t look so good, either..”

“I saw his hideous form,” he reminded her.

“This is uglier. He’s turned pink like stomach medicine.” She gestured at her own face. “He has sores everywhere and they’re leaking crusty yellow fluid. There seem to be these big tumors on his arms and legs, too, and they’re pink. The guy is a real cochino.”

Darro suspected Bodach’s condition was the price for whatever he had done to create his army of the dead and bring them into the spell trap. He also knew that just because their immortal enemy stank and appeared revolting that it wouldn’t kill the goblin. He heard the sound of a dozen arrows whistling overhead and covered his lady with his big body. Then an even bigger man crouched over them both, shielding them both and jerking as the arrows struck his back. With a groan the armorer collapsed, and the sound he made caused the wall to shake beneath them.

“Rory, you eejit.” With Esme’s help Darro pulled him over to the door to the weapons storage and got him inside. To his lady he said, “Stay with him. Dinnae attempt to pull out the arrows.”