THE CHAINS LOOPED between Rowan’s shackles bounced against her thighs as she walked out of the stables. Normally she wouldn’t go for the big theatrics. Performing was Perrin’s thing. But no one yet knew what she’d told Lily and Taran. She also had a point to make, and that required some show as well as tell.

“Quit looking so guilty,” she told Taran as he took hold of her arm in front of the maze entrance to the stronghold. “It’s going to be hard enough for Lily to keep a straight face when she sees us. Wait, I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. I am really done with telling you what to do.”

“Indeed.” His mouth hitched. “I’m no’ with touching you.”

The joke made Rowan utter a low chuckle before she put on her best scowl. “Okay, but later. In the meantime, don’t ruin this for me. I’ve earned my fifteen minutes.”

As soon as they entered the great hall every guard drew a sword. Brennus had gathered his clanmasters and their mates around the table, where they were studying a scroll map with the old druid. Perrin gave her a hurt look, while Kanyth glared. The chieftain slowly rose and moved to intercept them.

“’Tis no’ the time for this, Tran,” Brennus said without looking at Rowan.

“Rowan shall speak in her defense now, Chieftain,” the horse master said calmly. “Or I shall challenge you.”

Being threatened never went over well with Brennus, and Rowan saw all the tell-tale signs of his volcanic temper starting to build. But when he glanced at her, a strange regret softened his gaze. Reluctantly he nodded.

Yep, that soft spot for the ladies wins every time.

Rowan made sure to clank her chains as she went to stand at the end of the long table. Taran touched her arm before he took his seat beside Cadeyrn.

Lily’s eyes warmed as she gave her a tiny nod.

“I didn’t make Hendry’s totems while we were being held at the settlement,” Rowan said, resting her hands on the edge of the table. “They were already done. I sabotaged their arms and legs.” She paused to take in the stunned looks. “I created internal gaps and flaws in the wood of every limb and joint. As soon as they start moving their own weight will cause them to collapse. They’ll end up a bunch of really large building blocks.”

Bhaltair’s expression turned skeptical. “You’ve a powerful gift, Mistress Thomas, but the traitors would have sensed your using it.”

“That’s why I volunteered my services to Hendry,” she told him. “I needed an excuse to use my mojo. All he saw was me refining the limbs to be more flexible and have more range of movement. I did a pretty good job of that, too. The actual sabotage I kept out of sight.”

“You’re channeling your power now,” Ruadri said. “I can feel it.”

“Very perceptive, Shaman. But you don’t see me doing anything with it, right?” When he nodded she stepped back from the table. “Hendry made the same screw-up. You guys really need to learn how to play chess. Okay, Taran, it’s ready.”

The horse master stood and struck the table with his fist, making the women start and the wood shudder. An eerie groaning, cracking sound came from within the table.

“All of you, up,” Brennus ordered and tugged Althea out of her seat. He stepped back as the table began to shake.

“By the Gods,” Bhaltair said and allowed Kanyth to help him to his feet. “’Tis madness.”

“Nope. ’Tis my mojo, Old Guy. Only five more seconds. Three, two, one.”

Rowan grinned as the thick legs snapped and the table top plunged to the floor, where it broke apart.

Ruadri stared at the shattered wood before he regarded her and put an arm around Emeline. His moon skinwork began to glow.

“Stand down, Witchdoctor Mountain. That’s what I did to every totem limb I worked on for Hendry.” Rowan crouched down and touched the debris, reforming it as she stood and restored the table to its original state. “Which was all of them, by the way. Great client. He really liked my work.”

Brennus reached out and touched the surface of the now-solid top. “How long before the limbs of the totems fail?”

“They’re a bit bigger than this, so it’ll take a little longer before the weight stress triggers the failure of the wood.” Her chains rattled as she took her hands away from the edge. “Maybe five minutes. I figured the clan could keep them busy for that long.”

Cadeyrn’s eyes gleamed with pleasure. “Aye, lass. That we can.”

“As for the rest, I was using Ochd as a spy to gather intel on what the druids were doing. I waited too long to tell Brennus about it, and Taran and I got grabbed. Ochd protected me—and that’s another long story that’ll have to wait—but I knew Hendry would toss Taran to the famhairean as soon as we got to their camp. So, I bargained for his life. I convinced Hendry that I hated him and all of you.” She looked at Althea. “You got it in one, Doc. I was playing along to keep us alive. But while I was there I also did what I could to help even the odds and give the clan a fighting chance. Those totems are toast.”

“I told you, she’s not a traitor.” The botanist nudged her husband. “I’m always right.”

“Indeed, my heart. I regret I’ve misjudged you, Rowan,” Brennus said, eyeing the table and shaking his head. “Cade, take those shackles from her.”

“Let’s leave them on for now,” Rowan said, also enjoying this part. “Lil mentioned that you’re planning to attack the settlement tonight. I’d like to help. I’ve taken the full tour of the place, I know where everything is, and—obviously—I make a wonderful stealth termite. Also, for some reason Hendry needs me to finish the Wood Dream’s solstice ritual, and it’s not just to restore the tribe’s lands. Consider me excellent bait.”

Emeline gave her a bleak look. “But he’ll kill you, lass.”

“Not if I hang onto these.” She held up her shackles and turned from side to side like a runway model. “I make a pretty convincing escaped prisoner, don’t you think?”

Cadeyrn and Brennus shared a long look, and the old druid nodded his approval.

“No,” Perrin said and shot to her feet. “I’m not going to let you go back to that place.” When her husband took her arm, she jerked away from him. “I won’t have it, Ka. This time they’ll kill her for sure, and she’s been through enough.”

No one said anything as the dancer rushed over, her hands shaking as she fumbled with the shackle locks. Finally, she tugged them off, threw the cuffs and chains to the floor, and kicked them away.

Perrin stared at them. “Emeline told me everything. What you said about Marion was true. She tortured you for years, and I did nothing but let her spoil me.” She turned to face her. “It’s unforgivable.”

Looking into her tear-filled eyes, Rowan saw amazing love and terrible guilt. “You still don’t remember, but I do. You tried to stop her every time you heard me scream or saw her hurt me. You always tried. It’s why she made you forget, too.” Telling her they were cousins suddenly didn’t matter to her anymore, because in that moment she knew they would always be sisters. “Marion’s dead. We’re not. Let it go, and forget about her.” She lowered her voice to a whisper . “Nothing would piss off the old hag more than that.”

Suddenly Rowan had her arms filled with a laughing, sobbing Perrin. As she looked over her sister’s fiery gold head at Taran, she saw the love there, too.

She’d finally buried Marion for good.

* * *

Taran sat beside Rowan, holding his lady’s hand as he listened to her talk with Perrin. Rowan seemed happier than he’d ever seen her, and it made him feel envious. He wanted his dark lass to shower him with such smiles and laughter. The delight she shared with her sister revealed a side of her she’d kept locked away, and made her glow.

Brennus called for Kelturan to serve the morning meal, but kept his clanmasters and their mates gathered around him.

“Cadeyrn shall advise the men once we’ve decided on the details of the final attack.” He regarded the old druid. “You’ve worked this out by now, I reckon.”

“Aye, Chieftain.” Bhaltair unrolled the map showing the eastern lands, which had been marked in several places. “I propose to trap the traitors and the giants where they now hide. While the clan surrounds their camp, Mistress Thomas shall divert their attention with her escape ruse. As she does, Lady Lily will divert the waters of the loch toward the giants.”

“I’ll build a grand wave, and then smash it down and divide it into streams,” the chef added. “Should send them all running.”

“Aye, do, Chef,” Kelturan said as he brought a tray of steaming mugs to the table. “Or mayhap toss Rowan berries at them to make them sweeter, as you’re wont to do with near every haunch we put to roast.”

“Still resisting my superior culinary expertise,” Lily said, and toasted him with her mug. “I could use them to stuff you. Then maybe you could take a wife without resorting to kidnapping.”

The clan’s cook smirked with appreciation, noticed Cadeyrn’s cool gaze on him, and hastily retreated.

Bhaltair cleared his throat. “As you say, Lady Lily. ’Twill drive them to the sacred grove in the clearing here”—he touched an oval drawn on the scroll—“as the clan closes ranks around it. ’Twill be there that Lady Althea shall begin her work as the clan moves into position by the trees at the clearing’s edge.”

As the old druid detailed the closing of the trap, Taran felt his ire grow. He remembered the day long ago when Bhaltair Flen had come to the clan with his scheme to trap the famhairean and the mad druids. The way he had spoken then sounded exactly as he did now.

“In order for me to cast the spell,” the old druid said, regarding Rowan, “I shall need you to first finish the Wood Dream’s solstice ritual. You did claim that Murdina taught you the particulars?”

“Yeah, she told me everything I had to do, including making a human sacrifice,” she countered. “Which, obviously, I’m not making.”

“She’s mad, lass. It neednae be human blood,” Bhaltair assured her. “Goat shall do as well, or sheep. I can provide that.”

“It’s so great that you keep some on hand.” Rowan’s dark brows drew together for a moment. “Wait, you’re not a member of the Wood Dream tribe. Why do you need me to finish the ritual?”

“Druid magic—my magic—draws its power from nature,” Bhaltair said. “Everything there has been locked in death.”

“Whatever Hendry wants to wake up will be made viable, too,” Rowan said. She rubbed the back of her neck as she brooded. “All right, if we time this perfectly, you’ll be dumping him in the portal before he can do whatever he’s got planned. Or maybe I should–”

“You’ll do naught,” Taran said and found himself on his feet, his hands fisting. “This old man lies whenever his lips part. He’ll use you and the rest of us to get what he desires. No’ again,” he told Bhaltair. “I’ll no’ stand by and permit my lady and this clan to be made sacrifices on your facking altar.”

The old druid avoided his gaze. “As you wish, Horse Master.” He got to his feet with clumsy haste. “I’ll leave Dun Mor at once.”

“Tran, be easy now.” Brennus glanced at the druid before he said, “’Twas a mistake, I reckon. No’ planned, as I’ve long thought.”

“You dinnae see this bastart as I do, Chieftain.” He came around the table to block Bhaltair’s escape. “I ken what you bred me to be now. Half-Pritani, half-druid. Shall I call Ruadri my brother in truth?”

“No, lad.” The wrinkles around Bhaltair’s eyes and mouth deepened. “Your Pritani mother possessed druid blood, but she wasnae aware of it. Indeed, we didnae ken it until after your birth.”

“Why didnae you tell Taran?” Ruadri demanded.

“The elders thought him too weak to survive training.” Bhaltair sighed before he faced Taran. “They didnae recognize the strength of your gifts. By the time they did, ’twas too late. You’d bonded with the other Skaraven lads, and despised us. To take you from your clan would have torn your spirit in half.”

“So, you left me believing your lies.” Taran gripped the hilt of his dagger. “Why did Rowan share my other incarnations, and now the dreams we have of them?”

Bhaltair now looked shaken. “In those lives, were the two of you lovers?”

“Yes,” Rowan said before he could reply. She saw the Skaraven all around exchange looks but she plunged on. “We’re different people every time, but we always find each other and, ah, get busy.”

“You and the horse master have soul-mated,” the old druid said quickly. “Likely a choice you both made during your first lives. ’Tis very rare among our kind. No matter how many incarnations soul mates have, or who they become in them, they’re fated to come together. For eternity you may mate only with each other.”

“’Tis another great revelation,” Taran said, his voice heavy with pent-up hatred. All the sound in the great hall disappeared as he focused on the old druid’s perspiring face. “But no’ for you, Tree-knower. You saw it.”

“I admit, I suspected it,” Bhaltair corrected him. “The connection you share with the lady radiates a certain magic. ’Twas something I felt when visiting some old friends who’ve soul-mated.”

“Taran,” Brennus said, his deep voice tight. “Step away from him.”

“Since my lady came here, you said naught of your suspicions.” His dagger gleamed as he drew it. “You left Rowan and me to flounder, vexed and confused. ’Twas your silence that caused all this. You nearly ended us both. As you ended the clan twelve centuries past.”

He took a step toward the old druid, only to be caught and dragged back by the chieftain’s brutal grip.

“Put away your blade, Brother,” Brennus said, as gently as if he spoke to a raging stallion. “We need the old meddler’s magic to defeat the enemy.”

“Mayhap you forget, Chieftain,” the horse master growled. In disgust he drove his dagger back into its sheath, and Brennus promptly released him. “He cast the spell over the battlefield that defeated them, and yet never told us that ’twould take our souls as well.”

“I didnae ken ’twould happen as it did,” the old druid said. “I’d never attempted such a powerful spell. ’Twas why I ever meant to bring you back as immortals, to repay my debt to the Skaraven.”

“Are you saying that the giants didn’t kill you?” Rowan asked, her voice strained. “This old guy did?”

“Aye,” Cadeyrn said. “Though I reckoned ’twas no’ his intention.” He directed a wry look at Brennus. “No’ all Skaraven share my forgiving nature.”

Althea winced. “Well, that explains a lot.”

“Think on that now,” Taran said, “before any of you trust this bastart with your lives. I shallnae.”

He turned his back on the old druid and stalked out of the stronghold.