Stone Guardian Read online

  How could he explain the cruelty of the vile beast to her? Torin scanned the scorched bleakness of the desolate valley rolling out from the base of the cliff. Not a hint of green remained on the stark landscape. The boulders and rocks scattered across the yellowed soil of the barren expanse appeared bleached on one side, and blackened and scorched on the other.

  An acrid, residual odor tainted the wind, a disgusting mix of sulfur, stale smoke, and rotting flesh. Bloated carcasses of half-burnt sheep dotted the length of the uneven ground all the way to the horizon.

  “The beast, Arach, comes from another realm. He’s walked this world for centuries bringing destruction and chaos wherever he goes.”

  “Another realm?” Emma kept her nose and mouth shielded with one hand, while holding her wind-whipped ponytail tight against her neck with the other. “How did he end up here?”

  “Through the portal.” Torin watched Emma’s expression closely. He had to awaken Emma’s protective spirit, nudge loose the instinctive defensiveness of a true stone guardian. If Emma didn’t desire to protect the ancient gateways, the full control of the magic wouldna come easily to her call. “Arach breached the portal from a reality rife with disease, destruction, and every misery known to humans. This beast thrives on carnage, desolation, and fear. He is known as the destroyer of worlds.”

  Emma turned, scanning the vista, her scowl deepened as she moved closer to the edge of the cliff. Her brows knotted into curled lines of reddish-brown fury above a pair of squinting eyes. “Who left the portal open? Who allowed him passage through?”

  Torin stiffened against the unspoken accusation echoing in her words. How could he make her understand? Turning into the foul, stinking wind, Torin crossed his arms over his chest and stuck his chin in the air. “I did.”

  Silence met this curt confession. Torin didn’t dare look Emma in the face. How could he bear the condemnation he would surely find brewing in her eyes?

  A sudden gust whipped down the hillside, stirring the powdered debris into whirling dust-devils dancing across the ground. Emma’s continued silence chilled his flesh more effectively than the raw biting wind. He turned toward her, tensing more at her unreadable face. What the hell was the woman thinking? “Say something, Emma.”

  “I’m waiting for you to tell me why, Torin. You seem to treasure this land and those standing stones more than most people value gold. There had to be a reason for what happened. Nothing in this world is ever black and white.”

  Relief coursed through Torin’s tensed body. His heart melted at her words. Sweet Emma. She might be a stubborn lass but at least she didn’t damn him before hearing his side. Uncrossing his arms as though donning his shield, Torin flexed his fingers as though the pumping action might help him spew out his tale. How could he tell her about Eilean? Make her understand his confusion and forgive him for all the errors of his past?

  “There was a time when the people of my clan filled this land from shore to shore. ’Twas our duty to guard the sacred stones and protect the gateway from intruders such as Arach.” Torin stole a glance at Emma’s face. Damnaigh. Her cloaked expression didn’t reveal her thoughts and his emotions ran too high in his blood to enable the reading of her mind. Damnaigh. Torin cringed at the Gaelic curse word echoing through his mind. He must calm himself and get control. Things never fared well whenever his silent curses reverted to his ancient tongue.

  Sucking in a chest full of the dank, stale air, Torin cringed and plowed on. “A joining was arranged by my advisors, the elders of my clan. A life mate was chosen for me.” Torin cut his eyes back to Emma’s guarded expression, knotting his hands tighter against his sides when she didn’t even nod. “A wife from another gifted clan across the water was found. The woman’s blood would mix with ours and strengthen the magic running through our people.”

  Emma smoothed a wild strand of hair out of her eyes and pulled her coat closer about her throat. “What has that got to do with leaving the portal unguarded? Did Arach sneak through during the wedding feast or something?”

  “No.” Torin turned away to stare across the ravaged land, squinting against a cloud of debris stirred by the rising wind. If only it had been that simple. Maybe if he didn’t look at her while he talked, this telling might come easier. “When Eilean discovered she carried my child, she accidentally took her life while trying to rid herself of the babe.”

  “What?” Emma grabbed his arm and turned him to face her. “Eilean was your wife, right?”

  “Yes.” Torin shifted his gaze away from Emma’s eyes and lowered it to his feet. He’d faced horrifying monsters and worse while guarding the portal but he’d never faced anything as fearsome as the look on Emma’s face. Lore, please let her understand.

  A look of confusion wrinkling her brow, Emma stepped closer, ducked her way under his bent head and peered up into Torin’s face. “If Eilean was your wife, why didn’t she want to have the baby? Was she forced to marry you against her will or something? I hear that happened a lot back then.”

  “No.” Torin took a step back, turning away to escape Emma’s scrutiny. Damnaigh, if the woman’s gaze doesn’t burn as hot as Arach’s blaze. “No one ever forced Eilean to do anything. She was of Brude descent, a strong, beautiful woman come to our clan of her own free will.”

  Emma frowned, swiping her hair out of her eyes with an impatient flip of her hand. “Then why? It doesn’t make sense. Why would she want to get rid of the baby?” The fierceness of the wind howling down the hillside almost drowned out Emma’s words. Almost.

  “As I said”—Torin shifted his stance and cleared his throat—“Eilean was a verra comely maid. None were immune to her beauty.” Torin’s jaw tightened as he clenched his teeth. With a sweeping motion of one hand to span his body from head to toe, his mouth tensed into a grimace of disgust. “And I was…am…this.”

  “What do you mean you were…are…this? There’s nothing wrong with you.” Emma whacked his upper arm with the flat of her hand, her scowl darkening like a storm gathering on the horizon.

  Torin barked a humorless laugh. Emma’s possessive aggravation warmed his heart. “Shall we just say Eilean enjoyed the attention of others? She needed their fawning more than food in order to survive.”

  “I see. So…” Emma rubbed her thumb across her lower lip as she hummed her reasoning aloud. “You’re saying the baby wasn’t yours and she needed to get rid of it to protect the marriage contract? Is that it? She was afraid you’d boot her out into the cold because she’d been unfaithful?”

  “No, lass.” Torin shook his head. Sweet, innocent Emma. How could he make her understand? “Eilean never wanted a child to begin with. The woman didna wish to risk marring her beauty. She feared if her body stretched with the growing babe, no one would ever turn her way again.”

  “She tried to abort the baby because she was afraid she’d lose her looks?” Emma’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

  “Aye.” Torin shrugged. “And when she took the herbs the old witch provided, she mistakenly ended her own life along with the babe’s.”

  Emma closed her mouth; a disgruntled scowl plastered itself across her face. Eyes narrowed, her jaw locked, she just stood in front of him and stared.

  Lore, he wished she’d say something instead of boring holes through him with those damnable green eyes. Was she angry because he’d had a wife and hadn’t told her before now? “Speak your thoughts, Emma. I would know them, good or bad.” Torin held his breath as Emma’s silence scraped through him like the ragged shaft of a rusted spear.

  Emma’s eyes narrowed further. One booted foot tapped a cloud in the ashes scattered across the hard packed earth as though pounding out her thoughts. “I’m trying to sort out how a conniving slut who killed herself forced you to leave the gateway unguarded so a monster like Arach could come through.”

  Torin searched the expanse of pale blue sky. Where the hell was a lightning-filled cloud when he needed it? He’d rather be struck down where
he stood than tell the rest of this tale to Emma. “When I couldna save Eilean’s life, I decided to take my own.”

  “You did what?”

  Torin retreated a step. Perhaps if he jumped off the cliff Emma might forget what he just said. Saving his life might distract her from releasing the impending tongue-lashing he sensed was about to explode. “I tried to end my own life when Eilean died.”

  “Why in the hell would you do a dumb-ass thing like that?” Emma stomped forward, one hand planted on her hip while she jabbed a finger against the middle of his chest. Her hair flipped wildly in the wind like flames dancing about a piece of wood.

  Torin flinched, lifting his hands against her assault. “I know. I was a fool. But at the time, I thought I loved the woman.”

  “You are an idiot.”

  “Aye. I believe those were the exact words the Cailleach used. She most definitely agreed with ye.” With a shrug, Torin grabbed Emma’s jabbing finger and pulled her to his chest to cut off the attack. “The old woman of the moors refused to allow me passage from this life. She punished my ignorance by banishing me to the dark reality and keeping me there until ye called me out.”

  Pulling free of his grasp, Emma motioned toward the wasteland spread with ash and carnage. “What about your clan? Couldn’t they protect the land in your absence? Choose another chieftain?”

  Remorse burned like a glowing ember in the pit of his stomach. Torin closed his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest. Guilt forced his voice to a hoarse whisper filled with centuries of pain. “My clan was lost without their chieftain and I left no heir with the blessings of my blood. Only a blood chieftain…” Torin forced his eyes open and nodded toward Emma. “Or the chieftain’s true mate can focus the energies of the clan’s magic and control the powers of the dimensions.”

  Emma turned away, glaring across the desolate land, the color rising on her cheeks. “What happened to them, Torin?”

  Torin steeled himself against the memories he’d buried long ago when he’d heard their horrified screams echoing through his unnatural dream. “Arach breached the last lock of the portal. He destroyed their bodies and ripped their souls from the physical existence of this world. Cailleach na Mointeach gathered the most faithful ones to her breast. She banished their pain and led them safely to the next place…but not before they suffered sorely ’neath Arach’s torture.”

  “‘The next place’?”

  Torin nodded. “Aye, Emma. The next place.” Sweeping a hand across the desolate scene before them, Torin forced his words through gritted teeth. “She left me here and took all I’ve ever known and loved to a much better reality. ’Twas my punishment for testing her patience. My chosen people are gone to a place I canna go until I satisfy the Cailleach’s demands.”

  Emma’s silence weighed heavy in the air. Torin curled his fingers around the haft of his dirk. He wished he could slice through the silent doubts and accusations building a wall between them.

  “You can stay here, Torin. With me. You could restart your life here.” Emma held her whipping hair out of her eyes, her trembling voice nearly lost in the wind.

  Torin’s heart fell. She didn’t understand. He’d have to find another way to make her see.

  Chapter Forty

  “Arach toys with us and he’s sensed Emma.” Torin stood beside the center stone of the circle, his arms outspread to the wind. “Ye must end this now and send the beast back. Ye brought him here. Now make him go.”

  “I cannot, Torin.”

  “Cannot or will not?” Torin glared unblinking into the fading sun until his eyes stung for the want of tears.

  “I told ye before, Torin. I never shouldha released the beast upon this world. He’s grown too strong over the passage of time. Arach has evolved into the highest level of demon.” The wind picked up, stirring the dried grasses around the stone circle until the rustling sounded like frantic whispers. “I did not jest when I said it would take the two of ye to rid him from this world. Train Emma but be quick about it. The longer ye take, the more brazen Arach will become.”

  “I will not risk Emma to the likes of Arach.” Torin lowered his arms to his sides, resting his hands atop the sword at his side and the dagger at his waist. “Ye know as well as I do that the beast always tortures before he kills. Emma is too inexperienced to stand against such a demon.”

  “Then ye’d best prepare her and show her the Ways quickly, Torin. For ye’ve no choice but to face the monster with Emma at your side. If either of ye make the mistake of facing Arach alone, then both of ye will be destroyed.”

  “I will ne’er forgive ye for the misery ye’ve brought to me and my kind, old woman. When this is done, when Emma and I purge Arach from this world, I will come for you next.”

  A humorless laugh rode the chilling breeze whistling among the stones. “I look forward to that day, my fine chieftain. I grow weary with this existence and I’m ready to be put to rest.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  “Which flight did you settle on? The late one arriving at Heathrow or the early one into Glasgow? We’ve got a lousy connection and I didn’t hear what you said.” Emma adjusted the speakers on her laptop. The Internet call connection wavered in and out, interrupting Laynie’s voice with static. The image on the screen flicked with gray-white specks. She could barely see the outline of Laynie’s face.

  “I said don’t worry about it. I’ve made arrangements to fly all the way into Lewis.”

  Anticipation shivered through Emma. She missed baby sister so much. “That’s fantastic. I can’t wait until you get here. Be sure to pack plenty of sweaters. The winter wind here cuts through you like a knife.”

  The screen grayed out with static fuzz. The connection finally failed. Her cell phone vibrated, hopped across the counter, then burst into the irritating song Laynie had downloaded into it before Emma left. Emma grinned as she hit the talk button. Laynie would never sign off without having the last word. “Hello, Laynie.”

  “Okay. What was the comment about the wind?” Laynie’s voice buzzed in her ear, the noise of a boisterous crowd, clinking glasses and loud music echoed in the background.

  “Where are you? I thought you were at home. Did you take your laptop to a bar? Just because you’re over twenty-one doesn’t mean you have to go crazy when I’m not there to watch over you.” Emma tightened her grip on the phone, irritated protectiveness perked through every big sister sensor.

  A heavy sigh rattled in her ear. She could just see Laynie rolling her eyes. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, Laynie,” she goaded in her bossiest voice.

  That brought a giggled response. “I love you, sis, and I’ll be there in two weeks. Now stop being such a worrywart. You’re going to have to accept the fact that I’m grown. Your job is over.”

  “I love you too, Laynie. Travel safe.” Emma swallowed hard against the knot of emotions closing off her throat as she clicked off the phone. Staring at the gadget in her hand, she wondered if she’d ever be able to do what Laynie said. She’d always watched out for Laynie—even before their parents died. She still remembered the day she’d first set eyes on the yowling, pink bundle Mother had settled onto her lap. As soon as she’d wrapped her spindly arms around the red-faced baby, the caterwauling stopped. Trusting blue eyes gazed up into hers. It didn’t matter that Laynie shared her parents’ bloodline and Emma didn’t. She and Laynie had bonded from the start.

  Emma closed her eyes against the memory, against the renewed stinging of tears. She couldn’t stomach her newly discovered destiny of either watching Laynie grow old and die or losing little sister forever when she traveled to another reality. Torin’s words echoed in her mind. He’d promised never to leave her alone. Her heart swelled and unshed tears ached in her throat. Could she really trust him? Everyone else she’d ever loved always left her, whether by choice or by chance. If she took that step and opened to Torin, could she handle it if he disappeared too?

  She closed the laptop and rubbed the warm surfa
ce of the machine as though wishing a genie out of a magic lamp. That’s what she needed. A magic genie. Emma snorted out a bitter laugh. In essence, wasn’t a genie what Torin was? And what about her own magic?

  Emma stared at her fingertips. Magic. How could this strange power really be possible? The memory of the spirit walk among the stars pushed all other thoughts out of her mind. And what about the day she’d fended off the glob of flying sheep pellets? Emma rubbed her fingertips together, startled when an eerie tingle rippled up through both hands. Slowly turning while still rubbing the tips of her fingers against her thumbs, Emma spied the over-flowing basket of peat bricks squatting beside the hearth. I wonder… She narrowed her eyes and focused on the uppermost chunk of peat balanced on the top of the pile. Emma stretched her right hand out toward the peat and tensed with concentration. Nothing.

  She stared at the end of her outstretched hand pointed toward the hearth. Why didn’t her so-called magic work whenever she pulled the trigger? Maybe she wasn’t focused enough or maybe…could it be...she focused too hard? Isn’t that what Mom had always said? Clear your mind, Em, and believe in yourself. If you do that, you’ll never fail at whatever you’re trying to do. The key is to believe. Her mother’s long ago mantra echoed from long buried memories, triggering a shiver across her flesh. Had Mom known about the magic and just never said anything about it? How much had her parents found out about her heritage when they’d brought her home from the adoption center?

  Emma cleared her mind with a slow, deep breath, closed her eyes and stretched out her hand again. She could do this. The energy was there. The intensity of this strange blessing tingled through her and pulsed into an increasing sting the longer she held her breath. She opened her eyes and focused every powerful feeling she’d ever had on the innocent brick of peat.

  The basket of black bricks exploded into a choking cloud of debris. Miniscule chunks of turf whizzed past Emma’s head and bounced against the wall. As the smoke cleared, Emma tucked her hands deep into the pockets of her jeans and stared at the scorch marks on the stones of the hearth where the basket once sat.