made the creature invisible.
A screeching sound burned her ears as the grate tore away. More rubble poured down, and Rhianne threw up her arms to protect her face from the cutting stones.
Another flash burned its way past her closed eyes as Rhianne was hauled upward by a pair of large and immensely strong hands.
Whatever pulled her out was massive, its strength unreal, but it set Rhianne gently on her feet, the grip easing away.
One more flash of light. Rhianne gingerly opened her eyes, expecting to find a colossus hunching over her.
Instead, she saw a man about her own height with dark skin and hair and the blackest eyes she’d ever seen. They sucked her in, those eyes, and that in only one instant of dazzling light.
The light vanished, and the man gripped her hand.
“Hey there,” a rumbling voice said in perfect Tuil Erdannan. “I’m Ben. I’m here to rescue you.”
Chapter Two
Ben couldn’t see much of his rescuee in the dark, but her hand in his was soft and sweetly warm. And strong. She clung to him without squeamishness.
Another flash from where Cian was enjoying himself blowing up pieces of castle showed Ben a mass of very red hair and a chiseled face that wasn’t like Lady Aisling’s at all. The face was grimy and bloody, as were the young woman’s loose trousers and shirt, which made Ben’s fury boil.
Then blackness. Their only connection was the firm clasp of their hands.
The ceilings on the dungeon level were low, built to stymie the tall hoch alfar and dokk alfar, but they were perfect for Ben’s height. His lady’s too. Rhianne mac Aodha appeared to be only an inch, if that, taller than Ben. Unusual for a Tuil Erdannan, but Ben wasn’t complaining.
His night-sight took them unerringly to the stairs at the end of the corridor. The door that had barricaded it leaned raggedly against a wall, torn from its bronze hinges. Ben had been too impatient to pick the lock.
Ben started up a flight of stairs, pulling Rhianne behind him. Flashes and rumbles sounded from above, the walls shaking in a manner that alarmed him.
“What is that?” Rhianne asked in Tuil Erdannan, probably figuring Ben was fluent in it.
Ben wasn’t. He’d learned a little during his sojourn in Faerie so he could speak to Lady Aisling when needed. Not that Lady Aisling didn’t know many other languages, including several human ones. Today when she’d met Ben at an ancient sundial in the woods and marched him to her house, she’d told him his task in perfect English.
My daughter’s been taken by that wretched Walther le Madhug, she’d said in rage, but Ben had felt her great fear behind the anger. He’s a high lord among the hoch alfar and far too full of himself, but he has grown dangerous. He wants to force Rhianne into marriage, believing it will help his bid to become emperor. Ha! You are to rescue her and then keep her safe for me.
Sure, your ladyship, Ben had thought. Easy-peasy.
Ben said to Rhianne now in careful Tuil Erdannan, “Don’t speak your language much.”
“Parles français?” Rhianne went off into a string of French, until Ben squeezed her hand.
“English?” he suggested. “Or one of twenty Native American languages? Some don’t exist anymore. Up to you.”
“I don’t know English as well as French.” Rhianne answered in English without a falter. “Mother goes to Paris so often that she likes to speak French.”
“Well, it’s that or hoch alfar, and I’m not sullying my mouth with that.” Ben gummed at his tongue, reflecting he was seriously thirsty. He hadn’t been able to finish his beer. “Since I’m thinking you don’t know my language, English it will have to be.”
“Agreed,” Rhianne said.
Another flash rolled down from above, and the entire castle shuddered, dust showering them. Over the loud rumbles came the sound of maniacal laughter.
“That’s Cian,” Ben explained. Cian could dig his fingers straight into walls, handy for carving niches for incendiaries. “I hope he leaves enough of the castle standing for us to escape.”
“I hope the entire place explodes into dust,” Rhianne growled. “We should run.”
“Word.” Ben leapt up the last step of the staircase from the dungeon, Rhianne directly behind him.
Light filmed the corridor on the next level, courtesy of the holes Cian had blasted in the walls, plus the glowing stones the hoch alfar used so they wouldn’t stumble in the dark and bruise their little toesies.
The place was a maze, but Ben had marked the walls as he’d made his