The Betrayal - By Ruth Langan Page 0,60
as lord?”
She nodded, too overcome to speak. Finally she said in a whisper, “Do not blame Dougal, for he is innocent of this.”
“I do not blame him.” Grant turned to the younger man. “He will always be the brother of my heart. As for you, Aunt…”
She shook her head. “There is a demon inside me. At times I can overcome it. At other times it overcomes me, and I give in to its voice.” She looked up, allowing her gaze to move slowly over Grant. Then she turned and studied Dougal as though memorizing every line and feature of his face. “You’re like him, you know. So like my beloved Ranald. Kind and patient and good. Forgive me, my son.”
In one smooth motion she reached into the pocket of her gown and withdrew a dirk. The razor-sharp blade glinted in the light of the torches.
Before any of them could move, she lifted it high and plunged it into her chest, then threw herself onto her lover’s crypt to die.
Dougal was the first to reach Hazlet’s side, lifting her gently away from the crypt and lowering her to the floor, while blood spilled through his fingers and pooled around her.
“Help her.” He cried to Kylia. “If anyone can save her, it’s you, my lady.”
“I wish it were so.” Kylia knelt in the dirt beside him.
“You are a witch.”
“Aye. But my gift of healing is weak. I would need my family around me to heal a wound as mortal as this.”
“Then summon them, my lady. I beg of you.”
Kylia looked to Grant, who stood over them, staring down at the woman he’d loved and honored for a lifetime.
He gave a grudging nod. “Aye, my lady. Dougal is right. We must do all we can to save her.”
Kylia closed her eyes and extended her arms. “My family. A boon I would beg of thee. Leave the comfort of your home and come to me.”
There was a roaring sound as though of a great wind. The light of the torches began swaying wildly. Suddenly in their midst stood three women in flowing robes. Each of them in turn greeted Kylia with an embrace.
“Mum. Gram. Gwenellen. I’m so glad you could come.”
“How could we not?” Nola said gently.
Suddenly there was another rush of wind. When the light of the torches settled, a fourth young woman stood in their midst.
“Allegra. Oh, Allegra.” The others gathered around to hug her fiercely.
“I was walking in the gardens with my beloved Merrick when I heard a voice summoning me. I fear my husband was a bit startled, but then,” she added with a smile, “he’s learned to expect the unexpected with a witch for a wife.” She turned to Kylia. “Why did you summon me?”
“I need you, Allegra.” Kylia turned to the others. “I need all of you. This is Hazlet, whose shame and guilt caused her to attempt to end her life.”
Wilona gently probed the wound. “It is grave, indeed. Perhaps it is best if she be allowed to enter the other side.”
“Nay.” Dougal’s cry had them turning to him.
“He has just learned that the woman he called aunt is really his mother.” Kylia caught her sisters’ hands. “Think of all the things in his heart that will never be spoken if she dies now.”
The women looked around, then began to form a circle around Hazlet.
Wilona turned to Dougal and held out a hand. “You are blood of her blood. It is important for you to join the circle.”
He took her hand in his.
Seeing Grant standing off to one side, Kylia held out a hand. “You, too, are blood of her blood, my love.”
At her endearment, the other women looked at one another in surprise.
As Grant caught Kylia’s hand, she stooped and picked up the wolf pup, tucking him into the front of Grant’s tunic. Then, as the circle was completed, she nodded to her grandmother, who began to chant the ancient words. Gradually the others picked up the words, until the room was filled with the sound of their chanting.
Suddenly the room fell away. They were no longer in the vault but were soaring high in the sky, with Hazlet still lying in the middle of the circle.
Though Dougal’s eyes rounded with amazement, he held tightly to the hands in his. Grant did the same, watching as Kylia and her family continued chanting the ancient words.
They floated over hills and meadows, Highland lochs and streams, and dense forests, before settling in a verdant meadow filled with the