Fallon wiped the sweat from his face with the sleeve of his tunic. The clouds had begun to gather just after noon, shielding most of the sun. Rain was in the air, and he wanted the roof Larena had fallen through fixed before it began.
“Almost done,” Logan called down from above him.
While Fallon had worked, his mind replayed Broc’s visit and all he had been told. He hoped Broc hadn’t been lying when he said Quinn was all right. Just thinking that his youngest brother might be suffering was like a noose tightening around his neck.
He prayed Quinn stayed strong while in Deirdre’s mountain. Quinn had been so perilously close to losing it before Cara had come to their castle. And seeing Lucan and Cara’s obvious love for each other had just made things worse for Quinn.
Not once since the deaths of his wife and son had Quinn ever spoken of them. Fallon and Lucan had bowed to Quinn’s wishes and didn’t ask questions. So, when Quinn confessed that he had never loved his wife, Fallon couldn’t have been more stunned.
He had thought their union was one born of love. Quinn had fooled everyone, including himself. Fallon wanted the best for his brothers, and each of them deserved the kind of marriage their parents had had. He didn’t want Quinn settling again.
Fallon rubbed his neck as he felt the ache that settled at the base of his skull every time he thought of Quinn. Quinn was strong. He would know they were coming for him.
“Hold on, little brother,” Fallon whispered.
“Finished!”
Fallon looked above him. Logan had repaired the hole so well it was hard to determine where Larena had fallen through. Fallon walked out of the cottage and nodded to Logan as he jumped to the ground.
“Well done.”
Logan shrugged and dusted off his hands. “It was an easy task. I used to have to repair my family’s roof.”
Fallon waited to see if Logan would speak further about his past. It was a rare occurrence when any of them spoke about the time before they had been turned into Warriors.
When Logan said no more, Fallon piled more pieces of shattered beds, chairs, and tables on the fire. Most everything had already been burned, and by the end of the next day, the rest would be gone as well.
“Things are moving well,” Lucan said as he walked up with Galen and Camdyn. “Already the village looks better.”
Fallon handed his brother a water skin and looked up at the dark clouds coming their way. “We have six more cottages that need to be torn down and burned. The rain may delay things.”
Lucan drank deeply before offering the water to Camdyn. “The rain willna bother my work, and if need be, I can work with you in the rain removing the cottages.”
“Nay, work on the construction of the furniture,” Fallon said. “Logan and I can handle the rest.”
“And I can help,” Camdyn added.
Fallon nodded to the most recent arrival. A glance at his brother told Fallon that Lucan liked Camdyn, which was good. The more Warriors they had to fight against Deirdre the better.
“It looks like Broc has returned,” Galen said.
Fallon turned around to see Broc flying toward him with something in his arms. The way Broc flew as if he were injured gave Fallon pause. Without a word to the others, Fallon started running toward Broc.
The winged Warrior was flying low, barely missing the tops of the trees. He landed heavily as Fallon came to a stop in front of him.
“He’s hurt bad, but not dead,” Broc said, and laid Malcolm on the ground between them.
Fallon noticed the cuts and blood on Broc as the others fanned out behind him. “What happened?”
“I saw him being beaten.”
“By whom?”
Broc rubbed his eyes with one hand while he flexed his other shoulder. “It doesn’t matter.”
But it did. Fallon waited while Lucan knelt beside Malcolm then nodded that the man was still alive.
“Why did you help him?” Fallon asked.
Broc’s gaze met his. “Malcolm is an innocent. He is neither Druid nor Warrior. There was no need to harm him.”
Fallon was taken aback by the anger in Broc’s barely controlled voice. Then he noticed the injuries on Broc’s body. Not all the blood on him was Malcolm’s. “He helped Larena. In some people’s mind, that is enough to condemn him.”
“Not in mine.”
Fallon blew out a breath. “Thank you.”
Broc said nothing as he jumped in the air and flew away once more.
“I’m not quite sure what to make of him,” Lucan said of Broc’s retreating form.
Fallon shook his head. “Me neither. Let’s get Malcolm to the castle. Larena will want to see him.”
But when Fallon bent down to lift Malcolm he noticed the extent of his injuries, including the bone protruding from Malcolm’s arm. Fallon met Lucan’s gaze and sighed. Malcolm’s arm hung at an awkward angle, and Fallon feared trying to use his powers to move him to the castle and what it might do to Malcolm’s arm.
“Logan, I need you to find Sonya and bring her here. Tell her we have an injured man she needs to see to immediately. Lucan, find Larena.”
Lucan rose to his feet, his face grim. “What will you do?”
“I’m going to move Malcolm into a cottage. We cannot treat him out in the open.”
Camdyn moved to stand at Malcolm’s feet. “I’ll help you carry him. The more of us that hold him the better.”
“I agree,” Galen said.
“Then Logan needs to stay,” Lucan said. “I can get Sonya and Larena.”
“Hurry,” Fallon urged his brother.
Lucan spun on his heel and ran toward the castle. Fallon wiped his hand down his face and looked at Malcolm. He could barely recognize his face.
“All right,” Fallon said after a moment. “I want to take him to the cottage we just repaired, Logan. The bed was still intact, wasn’t it?”
Logan nodded. “Aye, and there are a couple of chairs that also hadn’t been destroyed.”
“Good. I want us to lift and move him carefully. He’s unconscious, and I’d like for him to stay that way for the time being.”
“Will Sonya be able to set his arm?” Camdyn asked. “It looks dreadful.”
Fallon swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. “I honestly don’t know.”
The four of them lifted Malcolm with the care they would have shown an infant. Their steps were slow and measured as they walked to the cottage. Thankfully, it was the closest one.
Malcolm groaned in pain when Fallon stumbled over a rock and jerked. Fallon wanted him on the bed and some of the blood washed away before Larena saw him.
“The door is narrow,” Logan said. “Camdyn, you go first, but step carefully over the threshold. Once he’s through, Galen, you go next.”
Camdyn eased through the door with Malcolm’s feet. Galen had some trouble getting through, but after they angled Malcolm’s body, he was able to walk into the cottage. Logan was next as he squeezed through the doorway without bumping Malcolm once.
Fallon had Malcolm’s shoulders and easily stepped through the door, then turned to lay him down when they spotted pieces of the roof on the bed from when Larena fell through.
“Hold him.” Logan moved with efficient speed as he cleaned off the bed and pulled back the covers.
It took all of them to lay Malcolm down without incident. Fallon straightened and jerked his head to the door when he heard a startled gasp and found Larena gripping the doorway so tightly her knuckles were white.
Larena’s face crumpled, but she didn’t cry, not that Fallon would have thought less of her had he seen the tears.
“What happened?” she asked in a strangled voice.
