“I know that I canna tell ye not to go with him, but I wish ye wouldna do so. I’ve seen what Machara can make another do. Calder was a good man before Machara gained control of him. He fought, he raged against her, but he was powerless to resist all that she called him to do.”

I appreciated Maddock’s worry, but there was no way I wasn’t going to follow Brachan down into the dungeon. If he needed me, I was happy to be at his side.

I also couldn’t help but wonder if this was how I was meant to defeat her? Could my belief in Brachan, my support of him, be enough to help him resist her, and as a result be the way that I was meant to fulfill my part in her destruction? Could it really be so simple?

I doubted it, but I was certainly willing to try.

“I have to, Maddock. Brachan won’t go down there without me, and none of this will be over until he stands before his mother and faces her once and for all.”

He paced the room as I dressed. “We should wait a few days. Try and prepare ye. Try and prepare him.”

With my dress pulled up to my shoulders, I turned my back toward Maddock so he could help me with the laces.

“We can’t wait, Maddock. Every day that passes it is more difficult for Brachan to resist her. To delay would only decrease his chances of defeating her. We should do this, and we should do this now.”

---

Things came together quickly. Sydney and her crew would leave via Morna’s magic and Mom and David would go into the village for safety, in case things turned south here at the castle.

Once all those not directly involved in the plan were away for the day, we gathered in Nicol’s room so we could all go down into the dungeon together.

Brachan was already inside when I got there, standing with his back toward the doorway. I walked over and placed a gentle hand on his arm.

“Hey.” He twisted to look at me, his eyes weary. “You don’t look so good.”

“I doona feel good, lass. My head aches dreadfully, and I feel like an arse.”

“Why do you feel like that?”

“I shouldna be asking ye to do this for me. But ye are the only one here who believes I can resist her. I…I need ye, Kate.”

I lifted my hand to his cheek and cupped it gently.

He looked so young, his eyes desperate and worried, but I knew he probably wasn’t much younger than me.

“It’s fine. I don’t mind doing this. And you can resist her. I know you can. Are you ready to do this?”

The rest of The Eight were now gathered inside Nicol’s room. There was no reason to wait any longer.

“Aye, lass. I’m ready.”

---

Machara said nothing as Brachan stepped into view, and she didn’t even seem to notice me as I moved over beside him.

She took her time looking him up and down. My heart ached for him as she did so.

She didn’t look at him as if he were her son. She looked at him as if he were a thing—a tool she meant to use for her amusement.

When she did speak, there was no love in her voice for him. “Ye certainly take after yer father, lad. The fae is barely visible in ye. Mayhap a little in yer eyes, but if ye dinna know to look for it, ye wouldna know.”

“Thank Brighid for that. Ye mean nothing to me, Machara. I want nothing to do with anything ye have planned for me. I willna harm my father. Nor will I harm the men who placed ye here.”

She laughed and flicked her wrist as Brachan dropped to his knees. He screamed and covered his ears with his hands. The sound of Machara’s laughter grew to other-worldly levels.

When she spoke again, her voice was different—booming, and scary as hell. “Can ye not see, lad? Ye doona have a choice. Ye are mine, and ye will do as I bid. Grab the lass next to ye, Brachan. Wrap yer hands around her neck and twist until it snaps.”

He turned toward me, and his eyes were filled with a plea. I kneeled in front of him and tried to keep my eyes locked with his.

“Block it out, Brachan. You are not hers. You are the person you want to be—your mother’s son, your real mother, the one who raised you. You are Nicol’s son. You were raised in goodness, and goodness is what is in your heart.”

He nodded as if he understood, but his hands shook as he pulled them away from his ears. He began to sob as he spoke, “I’m so sorry, lass. I doona want to hurt ye.”

He lunged, but Maddock was on him before he could reach me. In an instant the other men pulled him away, chaining him with magic as they hauled him from the dungeon.

Machara’s laugh echoed through the castle for hours.