Highland Sorcerer

  Shaw slammed his dirk into the tree, forearm vibrating at the impact.

  Toren was lost to them and that thought alone brought a pain to his chest so intense that he barely remained standing under the strain. He'd be damned before he lost his younger siblings as well.

  "'Tis as ye thought." Donnan scratched at his chin through his bright red beard. Though the thick warrior’s magic was attuned to calling tumultuous storms, he bore the patience of a rock. Though even now clouds gathered above them so mayhap Donnan was not as peaceful beneath his surface as he seemed. "Their tracks lead off toward the witch's castle. We'll go after them in all haste."

  Shaw nodded, the muscles of his throat clamping tight. He swallowed around them. "Take Hugh and Angus only. Go as far as the burn."

  Donnan swung around, shock scrunching his wide features. "And if they’ve traveled beyond the burn? Ye do not mean to leave them."

  Shaw yanked his blade free of the tree, leaving an ugly wound in the bark. "If they've gone beyond the stream, you'll not reach them before the witch. They'll be beyond our aid."

  "Then we'll bluidy well go in after them." The usually quiet warrior thundered like the storm summoner he was. In the distance, a bolt of lightning speared through the roiling clouds. "All of them. As we meant to do for Toren."

  Shaw pinched the bridge of his nose between forefinger and thumb. He'd like nothing more. In truth, his blood burned to force his way into the gray castle and avenge the wrongs Aldreth had already inflicted upon Toren. The thought of his brother suffering under her hand—

  Fury sang through Shaw's veins, stirring the latent magic always rumbling just beneath his skin. It would take the barest loosening of his control to let it flare out of him and destroy all those he held dear.

  As a family, the Limonts were the tip of the sword that the world's magic between good and evil balanced upon. As an entire clan, they were the sword.

  As a Moon Sifter, the only one born within five centuries that anyone was aware of, Shaw struggled hourly with his own internal balance, perpetually holding the overpowering force of his innate dark magic at bay.

  No one, not even his siblings knew the strength and blackness of what flowed through him. He had never unleashed it fully for any to sense the tidal power within. He had never dared. It overpowered him.

  Once Aldreth managed to turn Toren, what was left of the magic in this world would be overcome by darkness. Darkness would enshroud his people. Would overtake what he barely managed to keep at bay within himself. There was no other possible outcome and he could not allow that to happen. A chill raced down Shaw's spine at the dire foreboding, yet even turning a sorcerer as powerful as Toren would be nothing should Aldreth discover what lay beneath Shaw’s own dark surface.

  Should Aldreth get her hands on his magic—he squeezed his eyes against the building headache—the force within him would do more than disrupt the balance. Far, far more.

  More than his siblings could guess. He would unmake the world. He loved his family, but if he did not get the clan into the Shadowrood…if he did not get his own magic safely within the Fae realm…a shudder rolled through him. They would perish regardless.

  "How would we free Toren?" he said to Donnan. His voice sounded as defeated as he felt. "The witch has spelled herself to him. My brother cannot use magic against her."

  Donnan's face fell. "Mayhap the young lass and lad can find a way…?"

  Shaw's heart pulled, worry and grief tearing at him with serrated teeth. The witch would take the younglings, use them to further break Toren.

  "Go, Donnan. Go now and bring them back." Everything inside Shaw screamed to go after them himself, save the last of his family, but he locked his knees, steeled his heart.

  Donnan nodded. "And you?"

  Fists clenched hard at his sides, Shaw revolted at his next words. "I'm gathering the clan. Meet us at the standing stones."

  The ruddy man's complexion went completely white. "Ye mean to take our people into the Shadowrood then? Take all our magic from the land?"

  Shaw's heart turned to ice. He had no other choice. Once Toren gave in to Aldreth, it would be the only way to keep darkness from devouring the world. The only way to keep the darkness of his own magic, moon magic, out of the witch’s claws. Once she had access to Toren’s magic, she’d have control over all their magic, the entire clan’s. His. A lone tear slid along the side of his nose.

  He hated himself. Despised the choices forced upon him. "We are the protectors."

  Chapter Fifteen