her palm directly to Bronwyn’s hand using the magic bridge. Bronwyn lacked magic, so he could send nothing. Still the spell furnished him unknown capabilities, including the power to feel her energy when he searched for it.
Unfortunately, wicked magic held in Bronwyn’s right hand transferred to Alaura. It had the capacity to steal her strength and make her ill. Whenever he encountered a mysterious item he believed possessed magic, he touched it cautiously. If he felt opposing pressure, he knew Alaura mentally forced the item from his hand. He obeyed instantly.
Since parting, Alaura had used the Transfer Spell once. His desperate state had spurred her into action. He had been lost for weeks on Blue Mountain and had exhausted his food supply. After three days with nothing to eat, he put his hand over his stomach, the same hand connecting him to Alaura. His stomach felt hollow, and a deep grumbling told him if he didn’t find food soon, he’d feel the ill effects of starvation. To his surprise, his hand warmed, and a full plate of food materialized. No sooner had he set down the ration when other foods appeared: bread, biscuits, apples, pears, green cheese, salted meat, cookies, canned beans, water, tea and his favourite bread-topper, fenberry spread. Alaura had delivered enough food to sustain him until he found his way off the mountain.
Through her energy vibes, the food delivery and the occasional magical item rejection, he knew Alaura to be alive and well. The question he couldn’t answer haunted him night and day: Where was she?
Bronwyn swept these thoughts from his mind to focus on the task ahead. With skill and luck, in a few hours he and Isla would be on their way to safety. His informant had confirmed the rumours and provided additional information. The transfer of prisoners from another castle to the one he prepared to enter had taken place today. A seventeen-year-old hauflin arrived with the prisoners. Bronwyn had paid a fair price for the information, but he’d have paid triple to rescue his daughter from five years of captivity.
The moonlight shined down on Bronwyn’s face as he peered from the slit beneath the outer defence wall. He had visited Tigh Na Mare only once, but he had entered through the front gates on that occasion. Tonight, with a little help from another informant, Jack Somerled, he would penetrate the castle undetected through an entrance guarded by secrecy. Don’t get caught, Somerled had warned.
Getting caught meant a fate worse than death. The female warriors who ruled the castle gave no mercy to men who crossed their lines. Four decades beforehand, the army of human women had forcibly taken the ancient Tigh Na Mare Castle overlooking Ellswire Harbour. Their ruler, a brute named Lord Orenda Nassen, had ignored Bronwyn’s request for assistance in finding Isla. To add insult to his rejection, she forced him to strip to his shorts and carry his possessions while he walked through the castle and the small settlement to the village gates. Along the way, the inhabitants taunted him with words and sticks, testing his self-control to remain calm.
Bronwyn slipped from the weed-covered hole, glanced to confirm the guards on the wall patrolled a safe distance away, then moved towards an inside corner of the castle. There, beneath the west tower, lay the steel grate the informant had spoken about. Bronwyn surveyed the area. This location put patrolling guards at a disadvantage because they could see only a small portion of this section of wall, making it the perfect spot to enter the castle unseen. He lifted the grate, slipped inside the tunnel and pulled the screen back into position.
Turning to face the narrow passageway, Bronwyn paused, allowing his eyes time to adjust to the dimmer conditions. It will darken enough to blind you, Somerled had said, but if your feet keep to the left, you’ll find your way. Upon approach to the dungeon, the torch light seeping through the cracks in the wall will illuminate your target. Bronwyn trusted Somerled. He met the human shortly after his search for Isla had begun and maybe two dozen times since. Somerled travelled The Trail too, but not for the same reasons as Bronwyn.
Tiptoeing forward, he became blind as darkness swallowed the passageway. He placed his hand on the left wall and let it guide him, taking each step with care to avoid making unnecessary sounds. Seeing a dim light ahead, he crouched low and continued. The concealed passageway ended near what Lord Orenda Nassen and her warriors called the Entertainment Room. There, unwelcome guests such as Bronwyn would feel their wrath. Given the lateness of the day, the room probably sat empty.
A soft thud stopped Bronwyn in mid step. He looked towards the grated entrance but saw nothing in the pitch black. Had a guard on the wall spotted him as he entered the castle? Or did another intruder use the secret entrance this evening? He crept forward, searching for a place to hide and discovered another tunnel and stepped inside.
Bronwyn clutched a dagger, ready to strike if necessary. If a guard discovered him, he needed to act swiftly. A scream, a shout or the slightest sound of a struggle could alert others. He held his breath and listened for the soft footsteps on the stone floor. He couldn’t guess the distance. The stealth prowler moved silently.
The intruder paused near the second tunnel entrance, and Bronwyn spied on the silhouette from the shadows. It was a male dwarf, not a guard. He recognised the pattern on the scabbard illuminated by a shaft of light but couldn’t place it. The intruder peered into the passageway. Bronwyn felt he stared directly at him but knew better—he crouched in complete darkness.
Bronwyn had a better look at the face and couldn’t believe his eyes. Impossible! What was he doing here? Could he be trusted? Bronwyn wondered what to do next. After an evaluation of what could happen with two break-ins occurring at the same time, he made a decision.
“Tam,” whispered Bronwyn. The swift movements of the dwarf with his weapon urged him to speak louder. “It’s Bronwyn. I mean no harm.”
Tam Mulryan gripped his dagger. “Bronwyn Darrow?”
Bronwyn stepped into the glimmer of light. “I can’t believe my eyes. We thought you were dead.”
“It’s what many believe.” Tam sheathed his dagger.
“Why are you here?” He watched him struggle to impart the information. They couldn’t be here for the same reason: to rescue Isla. Although Tam had participated in the kidnapping of Bronwyn’s daughter, he wouldn’t have spent five years searching for her. To him, she was only a twelve-year-old girl tangled in a shady deal by her blood sire.
“My sister.”
Bronwyn heard pain in Tam’s voice. So the guess he made many years beforehand proved correct. Tam must have agreed to steal Isla in order to free his sister. Now, five years later, he still fought to gain her freedom. “Was she transferred with the prisoners today?”
Tam nodded. “And you? What brings the honourable Sergeant Darrow to Tigh Na Mare?”
Bronwyn swallowed hard. Since losing Isla, he hadn’t felt so honourable. He had done things over the years he wanted to forget. Trail life was different from life at Maskil. Incidents he had no control over drove him to choose between being honourable and living. “Isla. She’s amongst the prisoners.”
“Isla?” Tam appeared confused. “You failed to rescue her that day in the mountains?”
Bronwyn nodded.
Tam gazed into the darkness of the passageway. “I didn’t know. I had slept a long time in the trunk of that tree. After I broke free, I drifted. I thought for sure she was safe.”
“She’s here.” Bronwyn pointed towards the dungeon. “If I’m right, I’m within a hundred feet of rescuing her tonight. And your sister. We’ll get them both.” Bronwyn stuck out his hand. “Together?”
Tam eyed him. Bronwyn thought he might walk away and continue to look out for himself, as life on The Trail had taught him.
“We’ll get them both.” Tam grabbed the hand and shook it. “But we follow the rule—if one of us falls, the other takes the women and doesn’t look back. Their freedom is what we seek.”
“Agreed.”
An explosion shook the walls. Bronwyn and Tam dropped to the floor. Pieces of loose rock and dust fell from the ceiling and clouded the dim light. When the rumbling stopped, the so
und of earnest voices echoed throughout the castle and seeped in from the grated entrance. Bronwyn motioned Tam towards the dungeon. Regardless of the turmoil erupting in the castle, he wasn’t leaving without Isla.