Bugling dragons dragged Sorcha’s gaze skyward. She expected to see dragons, but flying between them were Harpies. Three of them. Half bird, half woman, they were soul stealers.

Tavin tightened his hold on her hand. “Watch out for them, lass. If they get close enough, they’ll suck out your soul through your mouth.”

“I know. They visited Hell often enough. Goddamn it. What kind of influence does Rhea have? I’ve never known Harpies to do anything but what they wanted. They even told Satan to fuck off.”

“Doesna matter. When this is over, they’ll return to the Strophades Islands in the Aegean. Until something else crops up that interests them.”

“Battle lines,” Sean shouted.

Sorcha took a good, hard look and counted fifty-three Druids. A respectable number if all they faced were half a dozen dragons. The addition of three Harpies shifted the equation. The way they got close enough to steal your soul was their breath immobilized you. She’d only seen it happen once, and it hadn’t been pretty.

She ran lightly to the front line with Tavin and Gloria. They flanked Sean.

“Wait until they’re closer,” he instructed. “We’ll blow through too much magic striking from fifty meters away.”

The dragons held back, though. No doubt, they all knew about their fallen companion. Dragons were old and canny. They’d been part of the original making, their bones part of Earth’s beginnings. Sorcha pushed an image of the one they’d killed to a distant place, one where it wouldn’t haunt her.

The Harpies winged toward them screeching like a pack of vultures.

“Ward yourselves,” Sorcha called, augmenting her voice with magic to make certain everyone heard her. Huge white wings surrounded milk white breasts, and multihued hair that tangled with the feathers. The creatures straight out of legend would have been beautiful if she didn’t know how deadly they were.

Laughing and squealing, they divebombed out of the skies, pulling upward at the last minute. “They’re playing with us. Not attacking. Why?” Sorcha yelled.

“To demoralize us, why else?” Gloria yelled back, her gaze glued to the skies.

“’Tis rather like a game of cat and mouse,” Tavin muttered, “and I don’t fancy being the mouse.”

With a final cacophony of screeches, the Harpies flew back toward the dragons. The aerial host parted, and a griffon winged its way toward them with Rhea astride its back.

“Quite a show of power,” Sean said.

“We’ll find out why very soon,” Gloria growled. “Rhea always had a taste for the dramatic. So far, we’ve had the Greek chorus, but she’s the main attraction.”

“Only in her own mind.” Liliana’s words were bitter.

The griffon floated to the dirt a few meters from them. Rhea sprang from its back looking damned sprightly for a corpse. Dark robes swathed her skeletal form, and her black-and-silver hair fell to knee level. She rubbed her hands together.

“Well, well, well. I have all of you now. All my pretties. Ready to finally embrace what you were born for? Especially you.” She extended a bony index finger in Sorcha’s direction. “You’ve led me on quite the merry chase. Satan promised you to me, but you left before He could deliver.”

“How inconvenient,” Sorcha sneered.

“It was, a bit, but I’ve enjoyed chasing after you.”

“Terrorizing me, more like. Thanks to you, I’ve been on the run forever.”

“It can all stop right now.” Rhea spread her arms. “Come to me.” Compulsion hurtled from her, so strong Sorcha actually took a step forward.

Tavin grabbed her arm. “Hell no, lassie.”

She pulled demon power as fast as she could and threw it at Rhea. It bounced off, but at least the inexorable desire to walk forward right into Rhea’s outstretched arms abated. A Harpy flew near, hovering above her.

Tavin directed a flow of bright magic right at it. One of its wings began to smolder. It hissed at him but flew a few feet higher.

“What have you done with Arlen and Katerina?” Sean demanded.

Rhea narrowed her aquamarine eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to know? The deal is this, Druid.” The way she said Druid made it sound like an obscenity. “If you leave without additional fanfare, I shall release your pet Arch Druid. He can accompany you wherever you wish.”

“I’m not leaving without my daughter.” Liliana detached herself from the battle line, squaring off in front of Rhea.

“Oh you’re not, are you? You’re scarcely in a bargaining position, Liliana. Not after that shit you pulled impersonating Katerina.”

“You killed my husband.”

Rhea shrugged. “Still beating that tired old drum? I see you found another one. They come cheap. Druids are somewhat of an improvement over humans. But you’re a Roskelly Witch.” Rhea’s voice shrilled. “You bound yourself first to human scum and now to pathetic White Magic. Grow a set, granddaughter. Be who you were born to be. Claim the power that courses through your blood.”

Sorcha tensed. Rhea’s compulsion spell was back in play. She kept a close eye on Liliana, ready to launch countermeasures if necessary.

Liliana spat in the dirt. “I’d rather die.”

Rhea raised a hand. “You said it. Happy to accommodate a traitor.”

Sorcha’s power was primed and ready. She launched a volley at Rhea’s feet, hoping the witch hadn’t bothered to ward herself that low. Rhea screamed like a banshee. Her robes caught fire, and she hopped from foot to foot.

Magic flew from her in uncoordinated volleys until she got herself and her burning garment under control. Most of her insidious dark enchantments bounced off warding, but a few moans from behind Sorcha told her some had found targets. More witches poured into the fray. They could have come through a portal or emerged from the earth. It didn’t matter. Not all of them were dead, and anger pulsed from their ranks. Somehow, Rhea had managed to amass an army.

The Harpies—all three of them—flew overhead screaming encouragement.

“Charge!” Sean ordered.

Druids ran headlong toward the ragtag witch throng, magic arcing from extended hands. The griffon paced behind Rhea, wings extended, lion’s tail swishing back and forth. Rhea barked a command, and the creature wheeled, ready to strike. Sorcha focused the power she shared with Tavin and shot it between the eyes. Its head blew apart, and a piece of the skull hit Rhea in the back.

Fury pumped from the old witch, and she raced forward, clearly intent on retribution. Sorcha yanked her blade free from its scabbard. She’d only get one chance. Rhea was sunk in bloodlust, but she had to get closer.

Out of the corner of her eyes, Sorcha saw Tavin draw his blade as well. He’d been a warrior in another time. She hadn’t. That he was backing her meant everything. Sorcha dropped her warding to lure Rhea nearer.

She skinned her lips back from what was left of her teeth and attacked. Dark power rained from her hands. It burned where it touched Sorcha, but she could take it. Her demon side was tough. She raised her blade. “You want to fight, Rhea? Come on. I’ll stand you a good scrap.”

“You’re a fool, Sorcha. I could have offered you the world. Instead you chose poverty, men pawing at you.”

“Freedom has quite the allure.”

“No one is as free as a Roskelly witch.”

Rhea stood before her, clearly not cowed by the raised length of steel. Why? Behind them, the sounds of battle rang out. Shouts, cries, the sizzle of white magic hitting dark.

Sorcha swung the blade. When it connected with Rhea’s neck, it stopped. Black Witchcraft surged up the blade heading straight for her heart, but she was powerless to stop it. Too late, she understood her kinswoman had lured her right into a trap.

“Drop the blade, Sorcha!” Tavin screeched just before he raced behind Rhea and swung his broadsword from the top of her head all the way through her body. It cleaved her in two. The insidious darkness that had already reached Sorcha’s hand stopped there.

She shook her arm, trying to get feeling back into her fingers. The blade that would have been her death fell into the dirt, but the blackness didn’t leach out of its edge.

Tavin stood over Rhea’s twitching remains and barked a few words in Gaelic. Mage fire sprang to his command, and Rhea’s body turned into a smoking pyre. A Harpy flew far too near, but it was behind Tavin. He was so intent on feeding magic into his fire, he didn’t seem aware of it.

Sorcha reached deep. Power jetted from her hands. The one that had been numb felt as it someone had soaked it in liquid ammonia, but she didn’t let up. This time, the Harpy was warded, and Sorcha’s magic sloughed off its feathers.

“Tavin. Behind you.”

He spun. The Harpy was close. He staggered, but before she could immobilize him with her breath, he tugged the dragon’s horn out. It blazed blue-white as he threw it at the Harpy. When the birdwoman, her attention diverted by the shiny object, reached for it, he swung the broadsword one more time. The Harpy’s head rolled from her shoulders, still screeching.

Sorcha ran forward and gave the head a good kick. It soared through the air and bounced a few times. The Harpy flew to its head, picked it up, and set it back in place. The wound began to knit together while fury poured from her whirling silvery eyes.

Tavin stared. “What the bloody fuck?”

“They’re truly immortal,” Sorcha said, breathing hard, “but I bet what you did will be enough of a deterrent they’ll leave. They enjoy the game, but not when they’re losing.”

Sure enough, the Harpy wheeled and flew away from them. The other two joined her, and they vanished in a blast of golden light. The dragons had left as well. Without Rhea as ring mistress, nothing was driving them to remain.

Sorcha turned and gazed at fallen Druids and witches littering the field. Greasy smoke still stained the sky from Rhea’s pyre. Gloria and Liliana ran to her. “We still have no idea where Kat and Arlen are,” Gloria said. “I checked where I thought they were, but it was a false lead.”

“Are you suggesting I should have stood still and let Rhea kill me, so she’d still be around to question?” Sorcha asked.

Gloria wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed hard before letting go. “Not at all. Just stating facts.” She twisted her head from side to side, scanning the field. “Aha. I know that one.”

“Which one?” Tavin asked, but Gloria had already taken off at a run to where Sean grappled in the dirt with a witch with matted black hair.

“Sean!” Gloria’s tone was sharp. “Don’t kill her. Not yet anyway.”

He glanced her way, and the witch took a swipe at his face, aiming for his eyes.

“Esmeralda,” Gloria cooed in dulcet tones. “You don’t want to hurt that nice Druid.”

“I don’t?” the witch sounded confused, and Sorcha understood Gloria was employing some sort of hypnosis. She hurried closer, hoping to pick up the mechanics of Gloria’s casting.

Sean rocked back on his heels. “If you can get anything out of her, more power to you. I’ve interrogated every single witch I’ve gotten my hands on. None of them told me shit.”

“You didn’t go about it the right way,” Gloria said and turned her attention back to Esmeralda, hunkering next to her.

The witch stared at her through unfocused eyes. “Gloria.”

“Yes, dear. It’s me. Rhea’s gone. Really gone.”

Esmeralda’s blue eyes filled with tears. “So I can finally be dead? Truly dead? No more being dragged from my crypt?”

Gloria nodded. “Yes. Truly dead. Where are the captive Druid and his Roskelly witch mate?”

Esmeralda struggled to a sit, rheumy eyes darting from side to side until they fastened on the smoky pyre. She pointed with a bony finger. “Rhea?”

Gloria nodded. “Like I said, truly gone. Not something I’d lie about.”

“The Druid and his mate are locked behind an enchantment.”

“I assumed as much. Where?” Gloria persisted.

Esmeralda drew in the dirt with a broken fingernail. “A lake lies about a kilometer from here. To the northeast. Their prison is on its far side.”

“How are they bound?”

“Black Witchcraft.” Esmeralda cackled. “How else?” Her voice developed a singsongy aspect. “One strand widdershins one strand not. Coiled at midnight with oil of rattlesnake and a bit of spider’s blood.”

Gloria smiled resolutely. “I know that binding. And its antidote.” She sat back. “Thank you. You’re free to go to your eternal rest, Esmeralda Roskelly.”

The space where the witch had lain developed black edges. Smoke rose, followed by black flame. When it cleared, Esmeralda was gone.

Gloria pushed to her feet.

Sean had moved away and was pacing through the field. The fighting was over. The only witches who remained lay motionless.

“Should we cut their heads off and burn them?” Sorcha asked.

Gloria shook her head. “Rhea was the ringleader. Many of them are a lot like Esmeralda. All they want is peace.”

Sorcha snorted. “After a long life of sowing mayhem and discontent.”

“True enough, but I’m more invested in freeing Arlen and Kat. These witches won’t bother us.”

“What makes you think Esmeralda told you the truth?” Tavin spoke up.

“I set a truth spell between us and added compulsion. She had no choice.”

Sean ran to them. “I’ve instructed everyone to return home.”

“Losses?” The skin around the corners of Tavin’s eyes pinched with concern.

“Three Druids fell today. The others will see they’re taken away from this place. Once we’re all back in Scotland, they’ll receive heroes’ burials. You found out where Arlen and Kat are, right?” he asked Gloria.

“Yes. We’ll teleport. It’s faster.”

Liliana joined them. Morgan too. “I still can’t believe Rhea’s really dead. As in permanently,” Liliana said. “I’ve hated her for as long as I can remember.”

“You’ll hate her even more before we’re done,” Gloria retorted. “We have to cast Black Magic to free Arlen and Katerina.”

“A small price. Let’s go.”

“Maybe if you tell me the spell,” Sorcha said, “I can do it and spare you. My power has dark roots.”

Tavin draped a hand around her shoulders. “Our conjoined magic should do the trick. It was enough to run the Harpies and dragons off.”

“And enough to kill Rhea, once and for all,” Morgan said in a satisfied voice.

“We’ll see if anything except Black Witchcraft will work to reverse the binding.” Gloria didn’t sound hopeful. “I’ll send you an image of where we’re going.”

Sorcha saw a lake, intuited where it was, and summoned magic to take her and Tavin. Sean, Liliana, Gloria, and Morgan shimmered into being next to them. The lake was an oddity in the borderworld’s barren landscape. Judging from the white residue rimming it, the water was either alkaline or outright poison.

She deployed a reveal spell, scanning back and forth until a cage made of what looked like bamboo staves came into view. Roughly three meters square and two high, Arlen and Kat were indeed within it. Sprawled on the ground, they appeared to be sleeping.

Or dead.

Sorcha switched up spells fast, seeking heartbeats. Breath whooshed from her. “They’re alive.”

“The coma is part of the spell Rhea bound them with,” Gloria said crisply. “Ensures they don’t manage to escape when she’s not here to prevent it.”

“Do you know the casting well enough to reverse it?” Liliana asked.

Gloria didn’t answer. She paced around the prison, probing here and there with magic.

Sorcha and Tavin joined her. “I don’t understand why the enchantment hasn’t collapsed,” Tavin said. “If Rhea’s magic was what powered it, the cage should have fallen along with her.”

“Doesn’t work that way,” Gloria said. “Not with Black Witchcraft. Things crafted with it last forever.”

Sorcha probed with her own magic, examining what held the enclosure together. Strands, red, black, and violet came into view. They wrapped around Arlen and Kat many times before winding around the pieces of bamboo in an intricate pattern.

“Why can’t we just cut the strands?” she asked.

“If we do, we’ll kill Arlen and Kat,” Gloria replied.

“What’s the matter?” Liliana joined her mother. “Why aren’t you doing something?”

“Because if I get this wrong, the whole thing will go up like a torch. Damn Rhea to her scorched bones. She added a few things to this casting that I’ve never seen before.”

“If Arlen and Kat were awake,” Sean said slowly, “they could work from within to neutralize their bindings.”

Tavin finished his sixth transit of the cage. “Not sure this will work,” he said, “but I could fly inside. Once I’m there, Sorcha can add to my magic. Maybe it would be enough to wake them.”

Gloria nodded tersely. “While you’re about it, I’ll begin unraveling the magic wound around the pen. It will take a long time because there’s a lot of it, and I have to be careful not to let the different colored strands touch each other.”

“What happens if they do?” Sorcha asked.

“Not sure, except it won’t be anything good,” Gloria muttered.

“I’ll help you,” Sean said.

“What can I do?” Liliana stretched her hands toward her comatose daughter but stopped shy of grasping the bamboo staves.

“You and I will begin unwinding from the opposite end Sean and Gloria are working with,” Morgan said. “’Twill go faster that way.”

“Be very careful to keep the strands taut,” Gloria cautioned.

“We will,” Liliana said, adding, “I’m as invested as you in this working, Mother.”

For once, Gloria didn’t snipe back.

Tavin had stripped out of his clothes. His falcon formed fast and flew around the cage. Sorcha bit hard on her lower lip. He’d have to cant sideways to make it inside without touching anything. Her raven broke free, wheeling overhead as it, too, assessed the problem.

With a determined cry, the falcon twisted and flew into the pen, fanning its wings almost immediately to avoid hitting the other side. Tavin fluttered to the ground, staying clear of the binding threads.

Sorcha walked as close to the cage as she could get without touching it and fed magic to Tavin. The air around the falcon brightened and pulsed. He pecked lightly at Arlen’s ankles.

The Arch Druid groaned.

“Arlen.” Sean’s voice was sharp. “Do not move.”

“Got it.” Arlen’s voice sounded rusty as if he hadn’t used it in centuries.

“You’re bound in Black Witchcraft,” Sorcha told him. “We’re working on freeing you.”

“Kat?” Arlen asked, desperation lining his question.

“Right next to you,” Sean answered.

Tavin moved to Katerina next. It took a lot of pecking up and down one leg until her eyes fluttered open. “Don’t move,” Sorcha cautioned.

“Where’s Arlen?” Kat slurred her words.

“Next to you,” Sorcha replied. “Tavin, I need you back out here.”

The falcon flapped, but there wasn’t enough room for him to become airborne. He fluttered back to the dirt and waddled to where Morgan and Liliana were working.

“Hang on,” Morgan said.

Liliana clipped a black strand. It fell away, and she kicked it aside while Morgan held the rest of the weave taut, so the strands didn’t touch. Three more cuts, and the opening was big enough for the falcon to push through. A feather sizzled where it brushed a red bit, but Tavin was through and shifting before any damage occurred.

He hurried to Sorcha’s side, not bothering with his stack of clothing. “I’m not familiar with this casting. What happens next?”

“I’m not either,” Sorcha said, “but once you begin dismantling anything, speed is critical. In case the whole mess is programmed to explode.”

“If it were going to do that, it would have already,” Gloria said, not looking up from the place she and Sean worked.

“Arlen,” Sorcha said. “Join your magic with Kat’s and see if you can address the binding around your bodies. If we can sever your connection with the cage, it will make things easier.”

She grabbed Tavin’s hand to more readily access Druid magic and funneled an additional boost to Arlen. The air around him and Kat brightened and pulsed. One by one, the threads of Black Witchcraft surrounding them fell away, writhing in the dirt as if they were alive.

“Did I get them all?” Arlen asked tersely.

“Looks like it,” Sorcha said.

“Does that mean we can sit?” Kat asked.

“Maybe. Hang on.” Sorcha let go of Tavin and walked around the cage, surveying its occupants from every angle. “Yes. You can sit.”

“How are things going?” Tavin asked Sean.

“Not particularly well. This thing’s like a Gordian knot.”

Sorcha had already tested her magic on a few of the strands. Dark magic had boomeranged back at her, which told her pushing harder wasn’t the answer.

“Fuck!” Gloria cursed. “Sean, hang onto your end.”

“I am,” he protested.

Fire snapped and crackled between two of the strands, spreading fast.

“Teleport,” Sorcha shrieked at Arlen. “Do it now.”

His expression grim as death, Arlen wrapped his arms around Kat. Druid power glistened silver around them, but it exacerbated the fire problem. Sorcha looked through her third eye. Dark power did battle with Arlen’s, effectively subverting his teleport spell.

Tavin recognized the problem. His power slammed into her, and she sent a whopping load of magic winging to Arlen. All of it. Druid. Witch. Demon. No time to be elegant. Or careful. Arlen’s magic took off. The spot where he and Kat had been was empty, but the surfeit of power ignited the strands, and the cage turned into a raging inferno.

Sorcha hustled backward, along with everyone else.

“Where are they?” Tavin shielded his eyes with a hand and scanned in a full arc.

“There!” Sorcha pointed to where Arlen and Kat had just come into view.

Liliana ran toward her daughter, scooping her into a hug. Sorcha reached them in time to hear her say, “Thank all the goddesses you’re all right. I’ve never been so scared.”

“You and me both.” Kat clung to her mother for another minute before she let go and fell into Arlen’s arms.

Arlen reached around his wife and shook Sean’s hand. “Thank you.”

Sean grinned. “Och, I had ulterior motives up the ass, mate.”

“Why do ye think I appointed you as my second?” Arlen returned Sean’s smile.

Tavin was getting back into the armload of clothes he’d scooped up before putting distance between himself and the fire.

“Is there any way to put that out?” Sorcha asked Gloria.

“No. But it will only burn until the power imbued in it is consumed. Not much longer.” A breathy sigh pushed between her clenched teeth. “Touching Black Witchcraft makes me feel dirty.”

“Hopefully, you’ll never have to do it again. Besides, we won. Nothing else matters.” Tavin draped an arm around Sorcha.

“Won as in, Rhea’s gone?” Arlen locked gazes with Tavin.

“Aye, beheaded and burned to a cinder.”

“Wahoo!” Katerina whooped and left the shelter of Arlen’s arms to do a victory dance.

“You’re right then,” Arlen concurred. “Nothing else matters. Let’s go home.”

Sean laid a hand on his arm. “We sustained losses. Three Druids.”

“We’ll honor their memory.” Arlen’s tone turned somber. “Who fell today?”

“Gregor, Luke, and Moira,” Sean replied.

Kat joined them. “We shall, indeed, honor their courage. I’m ready to leave this place.”

Sorcha circled Tavin’s waist with an arm. “Home sounds good. Not that I actually have one, but Sean’s castle will do for now. We need to talk.”

“Aye, that we do, lass.”

Sorcha tried to smile. He sounded serious. Was this where he told her she was a nice girl, but not quite who he had in mind?

She stood tall and summoned the power to return them to Inverness. She’d say what she had to, tell him how important he was to her. If he didn’t share her feelings, she’d find a way to live without him. Somehow.

She’d been on the move forever. She’d done her part here, and now she could settle anywhere. Actually make a home for herself. She wanted that home to be with Tavin, though. Not knowing if he felt the same was a huge stumbling block to making future plans.

I’ll figure it out. I always do.

Big words, but this was one place where hubris wouldn’t carry her through.

Tavin wove his magic in with hers, and the teleport spell snapped them up.

“Next stop, Inverness,” Tavin joked.

She gripped his hand, and he squeezed back. She took it as a positive sign, but maybe she was deluding herself.