Chapter Thirty-Six

"A heart filled with love is like a phoenix that no cage can imprison."

Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi, 1207-1273, Persian poet & philosopher

Sara felt the heat against her back as the fire broke through the door and the roof. Staring down, she pulled in a mouthful of smoke as she gasped. Her father's cruel words had filtered up to her, and his saying them to Rory turned her stomach to stone.

"Climb onto the ledge," Kenan called out to her, going toward his own horse and mounting. "I'll catch ye if Rory…" He didn't finish his sentence because Rory roared, running straight at her father's horse that barreled down on him.

At the last second, Rory dodged to the side in a vertical leap, his sword slashing out as an extension of his arm. If her arms weren't strapped to Kenan's bizarre contraption, Sara's hands would have flown to her mouth. Rory's sword shot out with his momentum, sliding through Walter Macdonald's weakest point, his throat.

The horse kept riding as her father's head slid from his shoulders and his body slumped, falling to the side and off the saddle, foot caught in the stirrup. The horse dragged his beheaded body out through the open gate, trailing fresh blood from the open stump of his neck. People screamed at the sight as the horse continued toward the battle on the moor.

Relief, not horror, threaded through Sara, and she closed her eyes. Forgive him, Lord . Her heart wasn't in her prayer, but the man was her father.

Rory hadn't slowed in his run toward Airgid. He turned back to Sara once he'd mounted. "Fly, Sara! Fly!"

"Wait until he gets beyond the village," Kenan called up to her, seemingly unaffected by their father's head sitting several yards away. Kenan held his arms out to her. "Unless the roof is caving in or ye can't stand the smoke."

She stood up on the seat before the short wall. The wings were heavy across her back, and she looked over her shoulder at what she could see. Wind and currents of heat buffeted her, catching the wings and trying to pull her off her feet. She dropped her arms down, thankful Kenan had built the center bar to collapse so the sides of the glider could slant down to stop the breeze from taking her before she was ready.

The feeling gave her hope because the contraption felt too heavy to stay aloft.

"Only step up when ye're ready to jump," her brother yelled. "And make sure that bar in the front is open and rigid."

Her heart beat with near panic as she stared down the drop. What had her mother thought as she looked down? Had she had time to contemplate anything while defending herself? "Sweet Mother Mary."

"Sara, ye can do this," Kenan called. "I know ye can."

"I can do this." I'm not afraid of heights, she thought. "No, I'm merely afraid of smacking into the ground," she said, feeling like she might vomit. Would that make her lighter?

She tried to take a deep breath, but the smoke made her cough. She caught sight of Rory breaking through the edge of the village, pushing Airgid toward the field. Many of the warriors had stopped fighting and surrounded her father's horse. Men pulled his body from the stirrup. Rory's army surrounded them, waiting to see if they'd still fight.

"Is he out there?" Kenan yelled.

"Almost."

Boom! Crash!

Sara yelped, trying to see behind her. Fire. Smoke. The flames roared up from a hole near the doorway that led below, which was now engulfed.

"Fly, Sara!" Kenan yelled. "Now!"

…

"Get out of my way!" Rory's voice tore through the rumbling of men and horses.

"Look!" someone yelled, and Rory saw Jok pointing behind him. "On the castle roof!"

Rory turned Airgid in a loop behind the last group of his men. "Sara," he said on an exhale.

He could see her far off, standing on the edge of the castle roof. Fire licked up into the sky behind her with billowing smoke puffing like a huge chimney. She wore red so she was easy to spot. He watched her rise onto the wall. "God protect her," he said.

"She's a Phoenix," Brodrick yelled, pointing with his bloodied sword.

"Rising from the fire," came from another warrior.

"Seraphina, the Flame of Dunscaith," one of the Macdonalds called.

She teetered forward and jumped.

A collective rumble of awestruck curses rose over the two staring armies, their feud momentarily forgotten as they watched. Rory sat on Airgid, holding his breath, his muscles taut and ready.

Wind caught under Kenan's contraption, and she rose in the air.

"Bloody hell, she's flying!"

"She's turned into a bird!"

But Sara was still a flesh-and-blood woman desperate to save herself from burning with Dunscaith. "Feet up, Sara," Rory murmured.

The nose of the false wings pointed slightly upward, but she was still lowering too fast. Rory saw Kenan riding out the gates and through the village, relying on his horse not to hit buildings as he stared up at his sister, his arms raised as if to catch her. But Sara quickly outpaced him, and then the wind swept under her. Sara pitched upward, her red dress flapping out behind her, and her hair streaming with it.

"From the flames!"

"The phoenix rises."

The men of both armies were in awe, watching Sara fly closer but still too high. Rory pressed into Airgid's side, and they took off. "Make way," he roared, and men leaped to the sides as he tore a path through them to intercept Sara.

"Level out," he yelled up to her.

"Bloody foking hell," she yelled, her voice a mixture of absolute fear and desperate determination.

"Point the nose a bit back down," he called, turning Airgid to follow her. The horse, used to quick changes of direction during battle, pivoted to chase the beautiful bird who wore red silk instead of feathers. Rory guided Airgid with his knees, leaning one way or the other as he stared up at Sara.

She'd managed to catch one foot in the loop at the back of the machine, and her other foot wrapped around the first. Maybe she needed to drop her feet.

"Make way," he called as he chased her, and what once was a frenzy of fighting was now clusters of men staring up into the sky. Some held their arms up as if wanting to catch her, too.

"Turn before ye reach the woods," he called up.

"Turn?"

"Tip the nose one way."

She let out a small scream as the machine tipped, turning her away from the woods.

"Drop one foot down, Sara!"

"Kenan said not to!"

"We need to get ye down!"

She'd lowered to the level of the tops of the tree canopy, from which she'd turned away. Rory rose in his stirrups as Airgid chased after her.

"Down a bit more, Sara!"

Kenan pulled his mount alongside Airgid, and they surged forward together. "We need to grab her," Kenan said.

Sara's arms were extended outward now as she pushed the bar she was holding forward and her body backward, and it seemed to slow her in the air. Rory was able to catch up to her. "Keep circling and slowing," he yelled.

"Dearest Lord, get me down," he heard her pray. She turned again in a wide arc, and Rory raced to put himself into her path.

As she was closing in, he rose up again in the stirrups while Airgid ran. Rory lifted his arms. "Drop yer legs!"

Without questioning him again, Sara dropped her legs. Rory grabbed them and was immediately yanked off his horse into the air. "Bloody ballocks!" he yelled as he flew, the two of them dangling over the men who ducked to avoid his boots.

Sara screamed. "I can't hold on with your weight."

"Hold on. Lower the nose!" he yelled.

His weight pulled her backward, but she still held the bar, and the rope around her waist kept her from falling straight down. They were closing in on the ground. "Slow up! Slow! Slow!" But neither of them knew how to slow the winged machine. Rory's boots brushed the grass, and he resisted the human desire to cling to the earth and jump down. Not without Sara.

As they flew close to the ground before the forest, the wind, as if tired of tossing its toy, abandoned them, and the machine slowed even more. His feet touched down, but he fell forward. Refusing to let go of Sara's legs, he let the wings drag him until finally their bellies scraped across the grass. They stopped.

Without the wind whipping past his ears, his voice was loud. "Sara?"

Her breaths came fast and hard. "I'm alive."

He let go of her legs and found his knees under him. Without waiting to stand, he crawled to her where she lay under the wide sprawl of the wings. Around them, horses thundered as men rode to the fallen phoenix.

"Sara!" Kenan's voice rose above the others.

"I'm well," she called out. "I think."

Rory crawled up alongside her spread body, lying in the grass and wildflowers, her forehead resting on her arm. "Are ye hurt anywhere?"

She turned her face to his. "I don't believe so."

He smiled broadly and caught her to him, but she was stiff in his arms. His smile faltered. "My prayers are answered that ye are safe," he said.

She stared into his eyes. "You didn't let go. This time." Accusation edged her words.

"Lift the wings carefully," Kenan called, and the stretched parchment rose slowly while Sara's gaze left Rory's, moving to her arms. She pulled them out of the straps.

Rory's fingers dropped to her waist. "I need to untie her middle." Once the knot gave way, Kenan and several men, from both sides, lifted the wings off her. Sara pushed into a sitting position.

Despite the hundreds of men standing around them, no one said anything. She looked around and then took Rory's proffered hand, letting him help her rise. Her hair was tousled and tangled, and black soot smeared across her gown and the smoothness of her face. But she was still radiant, her back straight and her cheeks full of rosy color.

Slowly at first, a cheer rose, building in strength.

"The phoenix has risen from the flames!" a Macdonald warrior shouted.

"To the phoenix!" the others called, and the entire field of two thousand warriors, Macdonald and MacLeod together, beat their swords against their shields in applause.

Before it died down, Rory grabbed Kenan's shoulder. "We need to end this," Rory said.

Kenan nodded. The two men stood side by side. When the noise lowered like the wind fading from a storm, Kenan spoke first. "My father has died a warrior's death, and I now stand in his place." A cheer rose sharp and powerful from Kenan's men, making Rory wonder how loyal they had been to Walter Macdonald. "Dunscaith burns."

"Started by Father Lockerby to burn the Fairy Flag inside," Sara said.

The men cursed, their faces filled with anger. Kenan continued. "We must work to put it out and then rebuild."

Kenan looked at Rory and then back out at his men. "Rory MacLeod and I were imprisoned together in England, as ye know. Both of our old, warring chiefs have died, and a new generation is beginning."

Rory's gaze fell on Brodrick as he began to speak. "A new generation that fights the tyranny of the English and not fellow Scotsmen." His gaze slid along his men who had loosely gathered to the left while Macdonalds stood opposite on the right. "A united Scotland is strong. A divided Scotland will fall to its foreign enemies."

Kenan turned, grabbing Sara's hand to bring her to stand between Rory and him. "My sister, Seraphina, has proven that we can survive the flames and destruction of our past, rising up from the ashes both on MacLeod land and Macdonald. And from those ashes, we rebuild and train together to defend our country."

Rory watched the men look across at their enemy. Anger and revenge still marred their faces, but they did not spit or curse or refuse. They were battle weary and had seen their comrades injured as well as the Macdonald chief riding without a head.

"Today," Rory said, "we separate and honor our dead and heal our wounded."

"And then we rebuild," Kenan said.

There wasn't a cheer. It was more like an affirmative grunt that rose and fell like a shallow wave. There was work to do to fix decades of anger and resentment, encouraged by two old chiefs who gloried in fighting the battles between neighbors instead of the bigger war against invaders of Scotland.

Jok's voice rose. "Let's start by putting out that raging inferno." He pointed toward Dunscaith where flames shot out the top.

"Where is the Fairy Flag?" a Macdonald warrior asked.

Rory exhaled and pointed to the castle. Everyone turned to stare at it.

"See to the injured and dead," Rory called. "And then we will put out the fire. MacLeods will leave at first light." Around them, the men moved off. The battle had lasted less than half an hour before Walter's headless body had halted the action.

Kenan stood next to Rory. "Did ye have that speech already planned?" Rory asked. "Because it was…good." His hand slapped down on Kenan's shoulder. "Rebuilding from the ashes."

"Created on the spot."

"If ye don't like being a chief, ye could be a bard," Rory said, his tone light although he felt the weight of unsaid words between Sara and him.

Kenan turned and strode off toward Walter's body on the ground near his horse.

Sara stood beside Rory, her eyes on her ancestral castle. "'Tis a miracle ye came away from that alive," he said, his words low.

She didn't look away from the fire. "I was certain I would die this day," she said, the wind catching her words so he almost didn't hear them.

The thought of her lifeless eyes, her lovely lips that would never smile again… It tore through him like a cannonball. Rory moved to stand before her, and her gaze rose to his. "I would have ye return with me to Dunvegan."

Her lips pinched tighter before she spoke. "Why?"

He caught the back of his head with one hand. "Eliza is there. And Gus misses ye."

She crossed her arms, her brows arching higher. "Did Gus tell you that?"

A gust of breath escaped Rory. "I'm a foking arse, Sara."

Jok ran up to them. "No MacLeods dead but eleven injured. Injuries aren't serious."

Daingead! He'd never get a quiet moment here to talk with Sara.

Jok's face shifted between them. "Brodrick and I will lead the men to form a wet fire block around the inside of the wall."

"Good," Rory said, and Jok ran off.

Rory stepped closer to her, and she took a step back. "Come back with me to Dunvegan," he said again. "So we can…talk."

Sara met his gaze evenly. "About you being a foking arse?"

"Aye."

"About you abandoning me, throwing me out of Dunvegan."

Excuses popped into Rory's head. He'd sent money with her to go somewhere safe. He had to think about leading his clan, keeping them safe. He needed to make certain no one tried to harm Sara with her staying at Dunvegan.

But he said none of it, because none of it made up for the fact that he had abandoned her, and he knew how that felt.

"Sara," he said while meeting her gaze. "See the truth in my eyes. When I thought ye would die up there, die in the fire, it made the foking flag mean nothing. I am exceedingly sorry."

She looked back for a long time, her face unreadable. "I'll discuss visiting the twins with Kenan." Sara turned and walked down the hill toward the village. With each step she took away from him, another knot formed in Rory's gut.