Chapter 5

Chapter Five

T ristan paced restlessly back and forth in his chamber, his soft leather boots soundless on the stone floor. It was times like these, when he needed nothing more than to be on horseback riding at breakneck speed across open fields with no particular destination, that he abhorred the imprisonment the most.

Would he finally be free?

He pondered the terms of breaking his enchantment. It would be more difficult than any quest.

First, he was to find the enchantress whose presence would be a strong call to him. There was little doubt in his mind the raven-haired beauty was she.

Secondly, the enchantress would have to not only cast a specific spell, but she must fall in love with him, and then be willing to give up something very dear to her in order for him to be freed.

The influence to go to his home had been irresistible as soon as Gwyneth Lockhart had arrived.

His senses had changed and become razor sharp the moment she’d arrived in Scotland. Tristan’s only worry now—to help her find the specific spell. He didn’t foresee any problem with the third and fourth part.

Women had always fallen in love with him and professed their undying devotion to him when he’d been the Laird McRainey. And a woman in love was always more than willing to sacrifice anything for the man she loved.

He pulled the window covering back and studied the familiar landscape. A dense forest surrounded their keep. The thick woods hid deadly creatures, waiting for one of them to venture too close. Beyond the forest lay a wide expanse of land, Atlandia, a frozen arctic tundra, governed by royals who kept Meliot in line, protecting their people from peril at the hands of the evil wizard.

Two suns blazed on most days; right now one was setting, leaving the other behind to battle it out with the two moons rising on the opposite horizon. The sunset gave the landscape a dark-red hue, almost earthlike. The temperature in this alter-world was moderate at the moment. Daily, the weather could range from freezing to inferno. Seasons did not exist in this world.

They’d not had to wonder who’d sent the missive. It had to be from Meliot, always sowing discord.

Although he was sure the others didn’t believe he’d ever betray them, he wasn’t reassured. He’d gotten to know their captor well enough to suspect a catch of some kind. If the wizard had become concerned enough to cast doubt, there must be a good chance this might be his moment to defeat the enchantment.

Tristan turned away from the window, for the first time in a very long-time feeling anticipation for what lay ahead. The contemplation ended abruptly, when two arrows flew through the narrow window, one sinking into his lower back, the other into his right shoulder.

It took a few beats before the pain penetrated his brain and he fell to his knees, calling for the others.

Cursed centaurs, the only ones with good enough skill to shoot an arrow with such accuracy at a long distance, past Padraig’s spells, through the small window and still hit their target. Tristan fell forward hearing the fast footsteps of his friends coming to his assistance.

Moments later, he gritted his teeth and bit into a piece of leather while Niall pushed the second arrow through the flesh of his shoulder and broke it off. The searing pain was followed by Niall’s healing power flooding him, the warmth soothing away the pain.

“You won’t be able to travel to the other world anytime soon. The wounds may reopen,” Niall told him, his expression grim.

“Do not try to stop me. I must continue this.”

Niall nodded and looked away.

The others had yet to seem relieved. They wished for him to remain healthy enough to continue to travel to current time.

Their collective hope lay in the chance that, once his enchantment broke, it would start a chain reaction making it easier for them to be freed as well. Once on the other side, he would search for their enchantresses, not rest until they were all free.

There was no choice. He had to go, leap to present time Scotland and see the enchantress again. Being trapped here without hope would lead them all to madness.

For a moment Tristan and Niall locked gazes, communicating without words. Finally Niall let out a heavy sigh.

“I will heal your injuries as best I can and let’s hope it holds.”

Tristan lay back allowing Niall’s healing energy to flow through him. He closed his eyes until he heard footsteps enter.

Gavin stepped in, the large Scot having to duck to not bump his head in the doorway. Golden eyes watched as Niall healed him, a pensive expression on his face.

“When are ye planning to go again? Perhaps it’s best if ye wait for the wounds to heal.”

Having known Gavin since childhood, it was obvious to him something bothered his friend.

“What troubles you, Gavin?” Tristan asked. Enjoying the flow of warmth Niall’s healing brought, he closed his eyes again.

“The last time ye went, it was for too long. If for some unknown reason it becomes impossible for ye to return, remember that you will begin to age at a very rapid rate. Do not take that chance, Tristan.” The hoarseness in Gavin’s voice touched him. He opened his eyes, as Niall finished healing him.

Watching the quiet man leave, he got up and pulled on a tunic.

“I will pay heed to your concerns, Gavin, but I must go. Our freedom depends on it. It is only from the other side that I can work to find the other enchantresses and help the rest of ye.” Absently, he laid a hand over his wounded shoulder. “Is something else amiss?”

Gavin’s worry-filled eyes met his. “Nay.”

His friend was afraid, not of the dangers they faced every day, not of death, but of getting his hopes up, only to be disappointed again. Tristan allowed the lie.

“Come, let’s go downstairs and join the others.”