“Oh, he has.” Marcail shrugged, a twinkle in her eye. “But I saw you and wanted to speak with you.”
Isla straightened and dusted off her hands. “About what?”
Marcail pointed to a section of the path that veered off to the left. “Cara told me about this path. Would you like to take a walk?”
“All right.” Isla glanced at the castle. Whatever Marcail wanted to say, she wanted it done in private.
She followed Marcail for a ways down the path. It was several feet below the edge of the cliff, but Isla could tell that at one time it had been a well used trail.
“Quinn told me that they used to use this path to hunt when he was a lad,” Marcail said. She looked over her shoulder and shrugged. “Cara used it when she ran away. She thought to leave so Deirdre wouldn’t harm Lucan.”
“Deirdre would have come for Lucan anyway.”
Marcail paused and turned to face her. “I know that. I saw for myself the evil that Deirdre is. Larena saw a small part of it, but Sonya and Cara have only heard stories. I’d like to keep it that way.”
“We all would.” Isla had seen more horrors than anyone could comprehend, but she wasn’t about to tell Marcail that.
Marcail lowered herself onto the ground and drew her knees up to her chest. Isla followed suit a moment later, and though her gaze was on the sea, she knew Marcail was troubled. It didn’t take Isla long to realize what it was.
“You cannot recall the spell to bind the gods, can you?”
Marcail sighed and shook her head. “Those magical black flames Deirdre threw me in did something to my magic. Even after Quinn pulled me out, I nearly died.”
“That fire was not meant to keep you alive like the blue flames for my sister. The flames Deirdre put you in were meant to keep you locked away from everyone. It would have killed you. Your magic protected you, but in doing so, you lost some of it.”
“I lost nearly all of it. I wasn’t a very strong Druid to begin with.” Marcail smiled sadly. “My mother thought it was time we moved on from the old ways. When she died, I had lost years of valuable time in which to learn how to use and control my magic.”
“What happened?”
“My grandmother was an especially powerful
Isla’s mouth fell open. “You remembered it? Why didn’t you use it?”
“I recalled parts of it. My grandmother had made it so I would never know the spell until I had fallen in love.” Marcail dashed at her eyes to wipe away a tear. “When I went into the black flames, it took the spell. I’ve tried everything I know to remember it.”
Isla reached over and put her hand atop Marcail’s. She hadn’t willingly touched anyone until she had come to MacLeod Castle. Now, it seemed almost natural. “Has Sonya or Cara not been able to help you?”
“Cara is still learning her magic. She knows even less than I do, and Sonya has tried to help me. Nothing has helped.”
“You want to know if I can do anything.”
Marcail turned her unusual turquoise eyes to her and nodded. “You have powerful magic. Is there anything you can do?”
“I wish I could.” She looked back out to the sea, unable to watch the hurt in Marcail’s eyes. “Once your magic has been taken, you cannot retrieve it. The fact you have any left at all tells me that you had great magic inside you.”
“And I lost it.”
Isla stood and held out her hand to Marcail. “You did what you had to do to keep the spell from Deirdre. Do not discount your valor, Marcail. You did the right thing.”
“Did I?” Marcail used Isla’s hand and stood.
“Aye.”
Marcail blew out a harsh breath and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. “Tell that to the Warriors. They are still waiting on me to remember the spell.”
“Does Quinn know you can’t recall the spell?”
“Aye, and his brothers know.”
“Then the others need to know as well. It is better that they not continue to hope.”
Marcail looked at her with such sorrow that it nearly brought tears to Isla’s own eyes.
“They know it’s a possibility that the spell might have vanished forever. I just hate to disappoint any of them.”
Isla knew all about disappointment. “They’ll understand.”
“Thank you anyway,” Marcail said and began to retrace her steps back to the castle.
Isla lifted her sodden skirts and hurried after her. “Marcail. Wait. There is one thing you can do. I don’t know if it will help, but since you are descended from powerful Druids, it just might.”
“What is it?” Marcail asked, her face alight with hope as she swung toward Isla.
“Find whatever feeds your magic, be it the earth, trees, water, whatever. Go there and open yourself to the magic.”
“That’s what I did while in the Pit.” Marcail’s brow furrowed in concern. “I nearly lost myself in the magic.”
Isla nodded. “There is a chance of that, aye. You need to have someone with you, someone who can pull you out if necessary. With the babe, you might not want to chance it now.”
Marcail looked down as her hands cradled her stomach. “I don’t want to hurt my child. Quinn has lost so much already, I couldn’t bear to face him if something I did harmed our baby.”
“Then wait,” Isla advised. “A few months won’t matter. Feed your magic until then. The babe inside you should help to strengthen the magic you lost.”
“You mean the child will have magic?”
Isla shrugged. “I don’t see why it wouldn’t. Even with what happened in Cairn Toul, you still have magic.”
Marcail laughed as tears began to spill down her face. “I feared there would be nothing for my child.”
Isla wasn’t so sure that would have been a bad thing. Magic in these times wasn’t a positive, not with Deirdre and the Christians who feared anyone who believed other than they did. But Isla wasn’t about to condemn Marcail’s dreams for her unborn child. The world would do that soon enough.
Deirdre wanted to scream her frustration, but she couldn’t. She floated as nothing more than a spirit, unable to do anything other than communicate with Dunmore and her wyrran. And even that exhausted her limited magic.
She had tried to contact Isla numerous times, but either the little bitch was dead or her magic was so inadequate that Isla could ignore her. Neither was good.
Deirdre needed Isla. If the MacLeods and their Warriors had not defeated her, Deirdre would know in an instant if Isla was dead or not.
Of course, if Deirdre had her full power restored, finding Isla dead or alive wouldn’t be an issue. Now, Deirdre had to focus her wyrran on finding a Druid just so she could once more have a body.
Until then, if Isla was alive, she was free to do as she wished. Afterward … Deirdre smiled. Afterward, Isla would do as she commanded, and then Isla would pay with her life.
Deirdre floated from her chamber down the corridor to where she had found Grania lying dead in a pool of blood. Deirdre didn’t know who had killed Grania, but she would discover who did it and flay the skin from their bodies.
Grania had begun as a test to see how far Deirdre could push Isla, but after several decades, the child had grown on Deirdre. They had spent much time together, and Deirdre had known then she would keep Grania with her always.
Now the child was gone from her, taken without so much as a blink.
