Chapter Thirty-Five

"I have always felt it is my destiny to build a machine that would allow man to fly."

Leonardo da Vinci, 1452-1519

Rory used his knees to guide Airgid through the melee of Macdonald warriors. Sara . He must get to Sara. She was trapped in Dunscaith, and the castle was on fire. The smoke came to him on the wind, bringing memories of being trapped in the chapel. Daingead! She must have gone to the roof because the entrance was consumed.

Rory saw Kenan yelling up to a guard who raised the toothy portcullis. As soon as he could, Kenan ducked under it to race through the bailey. Gilbert ran after him. Winnie Mar escaped the smoke-filled bailey on Gilbert's arm. She'd gone to Dunscaith?

Rory ducked low over Airgid's neck as he clopped under the still-rising portcullis. He swung down from his mount as Kenan turned to him. The doors of the castle were braced. "Bloody foking hell!" Rory yelled. "Someone trapped her inside!" He and Kenan worked quickly to kick the braced wood away. Rory yanked the door open, and a huge cloud of smoke billowed out like poisonous gray exhales from a giant while flames licked out like lethal tentacles.

"'Tis impossible," Kenan called to him, and they stood staring at the fiery maw.

Rory's hands fisted at his sides. "I'll drape myself and run—"

"Ye'll be burned before ye can reach the steps," Kenan said. "Even if ye made it through, ye wouldn't be able to bring Sara down that way."

"I won't leave her to burn!" The words roared out of Rory as if he yelled back at the monstrous flames. He couldn't let her die. His chest squeezed as he gazed up the four stories. Sara stood at the top, balanced on a step with smoke rising up from behind her. "I'll climb up."

He ran to the castle wall, trying to find finger holds. But he was only able to climb a few feet before the smooth stone gave him no aid. His blood raced as if to supply him with berserker strength even though he could not scale the bloody wall.

In times of siege, the smoothness would deter the enemy from climbing, but right now, he cursed the masons who'd sanded away any finger or footholds.

Rory shook off Kenan's arm as he tried to snatch him down and threw himself at the unclimbable wall once more. "I must reach her," Rory yelled. "Sara! I'm coming for ye!"

"You can't climb it." Sara's words were barely heard over the sounds of war and the crackle of feasting fire.

He could see lines on her dirty cheeks. The evidence of tears shook him to the core. "I won't let ye burn, Sara," he yelled up. "Ye're the phoenix, remember?"

She spread her arms as if to show she didn't have wings. "I wish I had Phoenix's wings." Then her arm covered her mouth as coughing wracked her body.

The note of desperation caught at Rory's throat, and he coughed, too, as the smoke billowed forth, filling the bailey.

"Wings!" Kenan yelled. "My wings are up there." He coughed, too. "Tucked in a corner by the west turret. Get them, Sara!"

"Wings?" Rory asked, looking at the man. Had the smoke and thought of losing his sister struck him mad?

Kenan grabbed his upper arms, shaking them, a hopeful grin on his gray-streaked face. "After we returned…I studied da Vinci's plans." Kenan pulled Rory into the center of the bailey.

Sara had disappeared along the roof. Crash!

"Sara!" Rory called as the massive crash from somewhere inside continued to rumble with the sounds of splintering wood and whooshing fire. "Sara! Where are ye?"

"Here!" Her voice came a moment before she reappeared on the edge of the wall, her arms full of folded tan hides.

Rory almost sank to his knees in relief, his heart hammering. She hadn't fallen through the roof to be consumed by the flames below. Not yet anyway. "Stand only on stone, not wood," he called.

"What do I do with this?" Her eyes sought out her brother. The wind was blowing from the sea inland, making the smoke blow past her out toward the fighting on the moor.

"Open them up," Kenan said, spreading his arms wide. "I changed da Vinci's design by attaching the front points. There's a bar there for ye to hold on to."

Rory watched her clumsy movements as she tried to extend the massive pieces of tanned parchment.

"Be careful not to puncture them or they won't hold ye aloft," Kenan yelled.

"Sweet Holy Mother Mary!" she yelled. "I don't want to be aloft."

"Ye do," Kenan yelled, "at least for a bit. Hold the whole thing behind ye and tie the rope around yer waist."

They watched her fumble with the rope. She wore a red gown, and her hair blew in the smoke-filled wind, rising and falling on the currents of heat and air.

Kenan's hands were raised up as if he were helping her fit them on her back. "Slide your arms in the leather straps there and hold onto the bar." He cursed and Rory looked at him.

"What?"

"I haven't tested them. The materials are heavy for her and 'tis made for someone my size."

Rory grabbed his shoulder. "Ye have to get her down."

"I know, but she's terrified of heights, especially since Mother fell," Kenan said. He looked back up at Sara, speaking loud and calm. "Ye're going to have to get yer feet through the leather strap behind ye, so they don't drag ye straight down."

"Fok," Rory said, scratching his hands through his hair so hard he might have drawn blood.

Sara glanced behind her at the length of the contraption.

"Somehow, get your legs out behind ye," Rory yelled. "Slide the loop closer to the point at the front." She disappeared for a moment, and Rory held his breath until her head reappeared.

Kenan was almost jumping up and down with his need to fit the wings to his sister. "Slide your arms in the leather straps," Kenan said. "Then ye are going to stand up on that ledge, point the nose out, not down, out over the moor—"

"Nay, she'll land in the fighting," Rory said.

Kenan looked back up. "Try to fly over them toward the forest."

"Fly?" Her eyes were wide, and her voice held fear. It twisted Rory's stomach.

"Sara," he called, and her face turned to him, their gazes connecting. "Ye can do this. Yer brother is brilliant, and this is yer way out of that inferno. Like Phoenix, ye'll spread yer wings and aim for the forest. I will ride out and catch ye."

"You'll catch me?" she asked, panic making her words sound like curses.

"Just stay aloft."

"Or land if ye're close to the ground before ye hit the trees," Kenan yelled. "Keep the point up. The wind will carry ye the way ye point but keep yer legs behind ye."

Sara's lips moved as if she were reciting all the instructions Kenan was throwing at her. Either that or she was praying.

"Aye, God, keep her aloft," Rory added to the prayer. He turned to mount Airgid and stopped as a deep voice cut across the bailey.

"Ye foking bastard, burning down my castle!" Walter Macdonald rode his horse under the portcullis straight at Rory as if to run him down.

Rory lunged to the side, hitting the ground in a roll that brought him to his feet. He had no time for this.

Walter glanced above. "What the hell is she doing?"

"She's going to fly out of there," Kenan said, pulling his sword.

"And I'm going to catch her," Rory said, leaping to his feet.

Walter laughed. 'Twas chilling despite the heat. "She stole the Fairy Flag from ye. Brought the damn thing here to me and then stole it back. She's a traitor to us both."

She stole the Fairy Flag. The words funneled through Rory's head.

Walter tipped his face to his daughter. "Ye will burn, Seraphina, ye traitor!"

Traitor to us both. Blood rushed in Rory's ears, and he had to shake his head to clear it. Sara stood with Kenan's wings strapped to her, her beautiful face smudged with smoke, her eyes wide with fear. She didn't refute Walter's condemning words.

She just stared down into Rory's eyes.

Faith.

Air moved in and out of him, and his blood slowed with his heart. Faith . Rory realized that he had faith in the beautiful woman above him. No matter what truths or lies Walter yelled, Rory knew Sara had a golden, caring heart. Whatever she did, she did it for good reasons, and he would never turn his back on her again.

The Macdonald chief turned his mount from the castle. "And now ye will die, too," he said.

The decision to kill Walter Macdonald was decided the moment he condemned his daughter to burn.