Spell of the Highlander
Page 81Dageus blinked down at the glass. ’Twas lying faceup on the lawn and stuffed nigh to bursting with an enraged Cian MacKeltar.
One of his ancestor’s hands was braced at the side of the mirror on the inside of the glass, the blade of his other hand to his forehead as if shielding his narrowed eyes from a glare.
For a long moment, Dageus simply couldn’t find any words with which to form a sentence. Then, “What the hell are you doing in there, kinsman?” he managed blankly.
There was a man inside a mirror. His relative. His ancient relative. He thought he’d seen it all, but he’d ne’er seen aught like this. Dozens of questions collided in his mind.
“Sun. Blinding. Pick me up,” his ancestor snapped.
Dageus glanced up. The sun was directly above him.
He glanced back down. Mystified, he bent and stood the glass up on end, facing him. He handled it gingerly, trying not to touch much of it. Because his grip was not firm, it slipped from his fingers and nearly went right back down again. He scarce managed to catch it in time.
“For Christ’s sake, be careful with the damn thing!” his ancestor hissed. “ ’Tis made of glass. Sort of. In an odd sense of the word. Are you always so clumsy?”
“I’ve a bad—” His ancestor broke off, raising his hands as if to ward off further talk on that topic. “Forget it. I doona wish to ken what they say about me.” He glanced around the lawn. “Where the hell have you taken me?”
“Castle Keltar.” Dageus thought a moment, then added, “A second Castle Keltar, not the one you likely knew.”
A muscle worked in his kinsman’s jaw. “And how far would this second Castle Keltar be from Inverness?”
Dageus shrugged. “Half an hour or so.”
“Let me guess, you interfering barbarian. For some reason, you took my vehicle?” the mirror snapped.
“I’m a barbarian? Look who’s talking,” Dageus said indignantly.
“You bloody fool, you will go back down there and get my woman. Now.”
“Aye.”
Dageus shook his head slowly. This was leverage. “Nay. Not until you tell me what’s going on, and explain yourself to my brother. What are you doing in the mirror? I ken full well what it is. ’Tis the Dark Glass, an Unseelie Hallow, and the Keltar have no business with Unseelie relics. How are you using it? Are you practicing black magycks? My brother will not permit such doings in his keep. Drustan suffers no—”
His kinsman pounded his fists on the inside of the mirror, actually rattling it in the ornate frame. “Go get my woman! You left her unprotected, you son of a bitch!”
“Nay. Answers first,” Dageus said flatly.
“Not a word until she’s here,” Cian said just as flatly.
They glared at each other, at an impasse.
A sudden thought occurred to Dageus. Why wasn’t his temperamental, formidably gifted ancestor bursting forth from the glass and going after his woman himself? What could stop a Druid as mighty as Cian MacKeltar. “You’re stuck in there, aren’t you?” he exclaimed.
“But you were out earlier. How? Why—”
“You said you had a woman of your own,” his ancestor cut him off roughly. “How would you feel if she’d been left by herself in the middle of a city she’d never been in before, and there were trained assassins hunting her? My woman is in danger, damn you! You must go after her, man! Then I’ll tell you aught you wish to ken!”
A fist closed around Dageus’s heart at the thought of Chloe in such a situation. He’d seen her in danger before and it had damn near killed him. A man’s woman took priority over everything else. Questions could wait. The care and well-being of loved ones could never be deferred.
Never.
“Och, blethering hell, I didn’t know. I’ll go get your woman,” he said instantly. Tucking the mirror beneath his arm again, he hastened with it toward the castle.
“We’re going the wrong way!” the mirror shouted for the third time, as Dageus walked up the front steps and entered the castle.
“Nay, we’re not. I told you, I’m not taking you with me,” Dageus said flatly. “I will find your woman far more quickly if I doona have to be worrying about breaking you. I know what she looks like. I’ll find her, I vow it.”