wouldn’t be the woman he loved. I realized in that moment both how much I loved him and that we could not be together. I felt the brooch pulse once over my breast, and the spell echoed in my head.
At a signal from William, the Stewards raised the plaid field to enclose the circle, trapping the three nephilim in the courtyard. The monsters opened their mouths and made a terrible sound like crows cawing. In answer came the beating of wings above our heads. I looked up and saw the shadow of black wings against the moon. Hundreds of nephilim. So many they soon blocked out the moon. Another signal from William triggered the Stewards to raise their arms. The tartan arced over the courtyard, forming a dome that protected us from the nephilim in the air. We had only to deal with these three.
Facing Endymion, I felt the energy of the tartan thrumming through me. It could be channeled through the stone. I held up the stone and aimed it at Endymion, but at the same moment Endymion gave a signal to the two other nephilim and they dropped their torches on the bonfires. I heard Nan and Una and Mordag screaming. I aimed the stone instead at the nephilim closest to Una. A beam of white light shot out of the stone and struck him. He burst into flame, his screams like the caws of a crow. The second nephilim was running toward me, but I aimed the stone and struck him a glancing blow that set his cloak and hood on fire. He clawed at his burning mask with gloved hands. As the mask burned off, it revealed a face beneath with the same long black beak and glowing red eyes, only now the beak snapped angrily, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth. The burned-away gloves uncovered long yellow talons, which reached out and grabbed me by the throat, pulling us both into the burning pyre. Searing pain scorched my back, and the stench of the monster’s breath—a smell like rotting meat and burning flesh—filled my lungs. He opened his mouth wide as if to swallow me … Instead, he seemed to swallow himself, dissolving into black ash that coated me with a sticky resinous film. I blinked in the black rain and saw above me another figure cleaving the flames, but this was not a nephilim. I had seen this creature before—a dark-cloaked man riding a wave of white moonlight, just as my demon lover had come to me. William strode through the fire and lifted me in his arms, his tartan cloak shielding us. I looked back only long enough to see two Stewards wade through the flames, their cloaks protecting them as they rescued Nan, Una, and Mordag.
When I turned back, Endymion stood before us. The fire had burned away his cloak and gloves, revealing eerie white flesh that glowed with a bluish light. Unlike the other two nephilim, Endymion’s face was beautiful—the face of an angel. His unfurled wings were golden in the firelight.
I felt William’s muscles tense. He slowly lowered me to the ground, placing me beside him. I clenched the stone in one hand, William’s hand in the other. Endymion smiled.
“What a worthy opponent you’ve turned out to be,” he crooned, his voice gentle as a lover’s. “I look forward to meeting you again.”
Then, before I could aim the stone at him, he rose straight into the sky, his great wings beating the air into a maelstrom of ash and sparks. The tartan dome, weakened by the breaks in the line as the Stewards tended to the accused witches, shattered. A rain of multicolored sparks drifted to the ground. I stared up, waiting for another attack, but nothing came. The sky above was clear, the full moon pouring white light into the courtyard like cool water to bathe our burns and clean away the ash. I looked at William. His hair, singed from the fire, stood up in wild peaks, his face blackened with ash and streaked with blood. He resembled one of the wild blue-painted Picts that had defended Scotland from the Romans centuries ago. Like a warrior. I glanced around the courtyard and saw that the Stewards and the villagers were all stained with ash and blood. Una and Nan were tending to them. The glow of the tartan was still on them, and Nan was using it to bind wounds and heal burns. She looked up from treating a gash on Jamie McPhee’s forehead and caught my eye. She administered a quick stitch in glowing blue thread, told Jamie he was a “braw lad,” and came toward us.
As she approached, her eyes were on my hand that held the stone. I still held William’s hand in the other. She reached out her hand for mine, and I laid it in hers. She gently un-pried my fingers from the brooch. I heard William gasp. As I’d used the stone, the silver of the brooch had heated up and burned my skin. The silver was embedded in my flesh. Nan lifted the brooch as gently as she could but not so gently that it didn’t hurt like hell. William squeezed my hand as I bit back a scream. Seared into my palm was the pattern of the two interlocked hearts. Nan laid her hand over mine and emitted a healing green light, which smelled like mint and felt like a balm. When she moved her hand, the pain was gone, but the mark was still there.
“Aye,” Nan said, “some marks are worth keeping.” She lifted her eyes from my hand to my face. “Remember us when you look on that. The Stewards of Ballydoon will always remember you. You’ve given us a way to protect our village. And now that ye have the stone, you can save yours.”
She squeezed my hand again, bathing it once more in her healing green light, then nodded, her eyes shining, and turned to go back to tend her village.
“I know ye must go,” he said. “Do you have to leave from a particular place?”
“No,” I said. “I’m the door, so I can open a passage anywhere. But I don’t want it to be here. I have an idea of where it should be. Will you come with me?”
William smiled and touched my face. A bit of the red from the tartan warmed my cheek. “Whither thou goest, I goest.”
We walked out of Castle Coldclough and down into the blasted ravine.
“You still have to get past the Fairy Queen,” William said as we walked. “She cursed you, too, remember.”
“Yes,” I said. I hadn’t let myself think about that until I had the stone, but now I did. “I think I can convince her to remove the curse. I understand now that the tithes she’s been paying have been to save her people from the nephilim. But when she sees that I have the stone and that I can protect her people in the future, she’ll have to see reason.”
William made a skeptical noise—he knew the Fairy Queen better than I did—but he didn’t argue. He seemed to be working something out in his head. I was, too. If the Fairy Queen was willing to bargain to let me through Faerie, mightn’t she be convinced to let William through, too? But if I brought him with me to Faerie and she didn’t let him into my time, then he’d be trapped in Faerie again. I couldn’t take that chance. It was better to leave him here in Ballydoon, where he was safe. Perhaps he had also figured out the same thing in his head. We walked in silence to the bottom of the ravine, where the petrified vines twisted together like a nest of snakes.
“Here?” William asked. “It isna a verra pretty place.”
“No,” I admitted, “but it once was. And it can be again.” I let William’s hand go and took a step back. I closed my eyes and uttered the words I’d used when I first tied myself to the door.
I opened my eyes. A small white light was glowing amid the blackened and petrified vines.
“I don’t want to leave you,” I said. The light wavered like a candle in the wind.
“I know you must go back,” he said, taking my hand. The light grew into a pillar and then swelled into an arched doorway. As its light touched the petrified vines, they turned green and flowers bloomed. The air was heavy with the scent of honeysuckle, the scent that had first brought him to me.
“I love you,” I said.
William smiled and shook his head. “You love the man I will become …” He bent his head to mine and kissed me on the cheek, whispering in my ear, “… And so I must become that man.” Then he wrapped his arms around me and stepped us both through the door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
