Everwylde Page 10

  Chapter 14

  The brush of their fingers as Ravyn walked beside Carac to where Lord Randall was being held sent a charged rush of something roaring through her, a feeling so strong that she almost tripped over her feet.

  Lust scorched her, sending her up in flames so hot that she was singed from the inside out.

  And all from the barest of touches.

  What would it be like if she kissed Carac? Touched him?

  Took him into her body?

  She grew flushed, sweat trickling at her brow with the direction of her thoughts. No one at the abbey had ever urged her to use her body. Ravyn had done that on her own. She had never been ashamed of her curiosity or the pleasure that she found.

  But this...whatever this was...took her by surprise. She knew desire, had felt attraction, and had given in to temptation. The draw she felt to Carac was something more—something much, much deeper.

  She wanted to explore what it was, to see where it could lead. Yet, the fact that she was near a witch made her pause.

  Coven witches never hesitated to use others against the one they wanted to hurt. Sybbyl already suspected Ravyn. Given a chance, the witch would turn her attention on Carac...and he would pay with his life.

  The four walked through the damp, gloomy dungeon together. Above Ravyn, the ceiling was one arch after another, holding up the weight of the castle above. Behind her and Carac, Simon and Margery kept pace. No one spoke.

  Ravyn had always hated dungeons. They were never a good place, and while she understood the need for them, she also knew the horrors some were subjected to within the bowels of such places.

  She found it odd that there were no guards anywhere. Then again, with Sybbyl here, the witch wasn’t worried about Randall getting free or anyone helping him.

  They walked down rows of empty cells, each bleaker than the last, even with their doors open. At the very end of the corridor stood a closed, metal door.

  As they approached, she saw the figure in the back of the cell. His arms were chained to the wall. He was pitched forward, as if his legs had finally given out.

  The fine clothes of Baron Randall Bryce were soiled and ripped. The very posture of the man spoke of someone who had been broken both mentally and physically. This wasn’t the first time Ravyn had seen such a sight, but it didn’t make it any easier to witness.

  She halted before the door and wrapped a hand around a metal bar. The soft vibration she felt made her release it instantly and step back.

  Carac frowned at her. She shook her head and whispered, “Do not touch it.”

  “Magic,” Margery replied.

  Ravyn swung her head back to the man within. “Lord Randall, I come as a friend.”

  He didn’t so much as twitch. Ravyn didn’t know if he was asleep, pretending not to hear her, or if he was dead. She slung the strap of her crossbow over her shoulder and tried again.

  “What happened to your people is not your fault. Even if you had given Sybbyl what she asked for the first time, she would have taken those lives. It is what a witch such as she does.”

  The soft rattle of the chains filled the air as Randall slowly lifted his head of matted black hair. Ravyn inwardly winced when she saw the blood on his face from his broken nose and cracked lip. One eye was swollen shut, but she glimpsed the look of a shattered man in his good eye—and she hated Sybbyl all the more.

  “Who beat him?” Margery demanded.

  Simon said, “I suppose it was Sybbyl.”

  Ravyn shook her head. “The things a witch does to a person most often cannot be seen. This was the work of men.”

  “John’s knights,” Carac said, anger in every syllable.

  Margery turned on her heel and ran back the way they’d come as quietly as a ghost.

  Ravyn moved as close as she could to the bars. “Lord Randall, you are not alone. I will help you.”

  “Run,” he rasped. “Run far from this place.”

  “I cannot. I will not.”

  His face crumpled. “The Devil has come to Bryce Castle.”

  “Sybbyl is evil, but she can be stopped. I need to find that which she seeks.”

  Lord Bryce jerked against his chains. “Run!”

  Margery returned then with a loaf of bread. She chucked it through the metal bars, and it rolled to Bryce’s feet, but he wasn’t able to lean down and get it.

  “Please,” Ravyn begged him. “Tell me where the staff is.”

  Carac turned to Simon and said, “Find the key.”

  Ravyn didn’t take her eyes off Randall as Simon hurried away. She worried that he was too broken to understand what she wanted from him—or too scared to tell her anything.

  “It may be too late,” Carac whispered to her.

  But she wasn’t going to give up that easily. She nodded to Carac before she said to Randall, “You knew the staff was here.”

  His head dropped forward as he moaned in pain.

  “You knew it was here,” she continued, “because your family has been guarding it. You tried to keep it hidden from Sybbyl by pretending you did not know what it was. Let us help you.”

  “You cannot,” Randall mumbled.

  Carac jumped in before Ravyn could speak. “We can. It is I, Carac, my lord. You have my word that we will keep the staff out of Sybbyl’s grasp.”

  “Sir Carac?” Randall said as he lifted his head enough to look at them.

  Carac gave a nod. “Aye, my lord. We can help you.”

  “I am beyond saving,” Randall replied.

  “The staff is not,” Ravyn added. “You have no idea what will happen if Sybbyl gets it.”

  Randall made a sound at the back of his throat. “I know the Staff of the Eternal was never supposed to be unearthed. I know that it can be wielded to bring destruction to thousands.”

  “We have no wish to use it,” Ravyn said. “I know of a place where it can be hidden once more.”

  Carac’s head suddenly whipped around. He jerked his gaze to Ravyn. “Hide.”

  She didn’t need to be told twice. Both she and Margery went in opposite directions. The only place for them to hide was within open cells, and Ravyn wasn’t too proud to admit that it made her skin crawl to be inside one.

  Flattening herself against the damp stones, she waited in the shadows, her heart slamming against her ribs as she heard footsteps approaching.

  “Carac?”

  Ravyn recognized the voice but couldn’t place it immediately.

  “What are you doing here?”

  John. Ravyn should’ve known he would venture down here. No doubt Sybbyl was with him. If only Ravyn hadn’t touched the bars. Most likely, that was what drew the couple to the dungeons.

  “You wished me at the castle,” Carac replied.

  “Not in the dungeon,” Sybbyl said.

  Her voice was close. Ravyn fisted her hands and readied to leap out and begin her assault. With a little more coaxing, Randall would reveal where the staff was located, which meant there was no more need for Sybbyl.

  Carac grunted. “You did not say that before.”

  “I am saying it now,” Sybbyl snapped. “I have guests coming to visit Lord Randall soon, and they have no wish to see you or anyone else.”

  Ravyn frowned, unease stirring her gut. The only ones who would be coming at Sybbyl’s behest were more witches. The elders, even.

  Ravyn’s plan to kill the witch would either have to begin now, or she would need to wait. Frankly, as much as she enjoyed ridding the world of evil, she wasn’t so keen on going head-to-head with an elder.

  When Leoma had done it, she hadn’t known who Eleanor was. Now, the Hunters had names and descriptions of the remaining elders. And while any witch was a formidable opponent, none compared to an elder.

  There was a reason there were only four elders. It took powerful magic and years of wielding it in order to achieve such a rank. The elders were all intelligent, treacherous, devious women who ruled the Coven like their own kingdom.
>
  “When was the last time Lord Randall ate?” Carac demanded.

  John’s voice sounded nearly in the chamber with Ravyn when he spoke. “That is a good question.”

  “What does it matter?” Sybbyl exclaimed. “It is not as if he will live through this.”

  “If you continue saying such things, you will give him no incentive to help you,” Carac stated.

  Sybbyl muttered something under her breath. “I suppose you threw that bread to him.”

  “Aye,” Carac answered.

  “I knew someone was down here.”

  Ravyn dropped her head against the wall behind her. She shouldn’t have touched the door. Sybbyl would never have come if Ravyn had kept her hands to herself.

  “We should feed him,” John told Sybbyl. “He has yet to give us the exact location.”

  Sybbyl made a noise that sounded like a loud half-snort, half-laugh. “By all means, feed him. Not that it will make a difference once my friends arrive. If Randall wishes to save himself pain, he will tell me what I want to know before then. Otherwise, his suffering will last for months.”

  There was a click and then a loud creak as the cell door swung open. Ravyn turned her head to listen, but the earthen floor made it difficult to determine much movement.

  Minutes passed in silence. Ravyn was still toying with the idea of attacking Sybbyl. Margery would be waiting for a sign, and it would limit the number of people who could get hurt.

  If Ravyn managed to kill Sybbyl, she would still have to deal with the arrival of the other witches. Even if she found the staff and got out in time, those left behind would pay for what she had done.

  Enough innocents had felt the wrath of the Coven. Ravyn couldn’t, in good conscience, do such a thing. She’d become a Hunter to rid the world of Coven witches, but also to protect those who couldn’t defend themselves.

  If she ran away instead of facing the other witches, she would be going back on everything she stood for. Her other options were to kill Sybbyl and face the arriving witches—be they elders or not.

  Or, she could wait.

  The smart move would be for her to be patient and discover who was coming to Bryce Castle. Information was what the abbey needed, especially if this Staff of the Eternal were part of the First Witch. As much as it pained Ravyn, she must hold off on her attack.

  “Satisfied?” Sybbyl asked sarcastically.

  There was a pause, and then Carac said, “He needs water.”

  “I have some,” Simon said as he walked through the dungeon.

  Ravyn hated not being able to see. She listened as Carac and Simon gave Randall food and water, but it ended quickly as Sybbyl ordered them out.

  The slamming of the metal door echoed through the dungeon like an ominous hammer—or blade—being dropped. Ravyn listened as John droned on about his army, but the voices didn’t move away.

  In fact, they remained very near to Ravyn.

  Sybbyl shushed John. A moment later, John asked her, “What are you looking for?”

  Ravyn couldn’t remove her crossbow for fear of making a noise. She silently withdrew the dagger at her hip and waited for Sybbyl to walk into the cell.

  Several tense moments went by before Sybbyl huffed loudly and said, “Everyone out. Now.”

  Ravyn listened as John, Sybbyl, Simon, and Carac left the dungeons. Getting out unseen now would be a challenge, but it also gave her a chance to talk to Randall once more.

  Chapter 15

  Worry knotted painfully in Carac’s gut. No matter how many times he tried to return to the dungeon, his way was continually blocked either by men or locked doors. But Ravyn was still down there.

  And he couldn’t just leave her.

  Simon was also trying to find a way to rescue Ravyn and Margery, but Carac wasn’t optimistic. The entire time Carac had spoken with Sybbyl and John, he noted how the witch’s gaze kept going to the various empty cells.

  As if she knew that Ravyn was there.

  There was a part of him that wanted to see Sybbyl do magic so he would witness the proof himself. While he believed Simon, and Ravyn’s story was believable, he needed to see it for himself.

  At the moment, however, his focus was on Ravyn. If he didn’t find a way to get her out of the dungeon, it was only a matter of time before Sybbyl found her. And the thought of that infuriated him.

  His strides were long after he dismounted and handed his horse to Rob before heading to his tent. He had all but been kicked out of Bryce Castle. Which did nothing to lessen his growing ire. Or worry.

  Carac might think of Ravyn as a warrior woman, but she was first and foremost, a female. It had been ingrained in him from birth to protect women, and that’s what he was desperately trying to do.

  Shoving aside the flap, Carac stepped into his tent and immediately drew up short at the sight of a crossbow on the table. Ravyn. His gaze swung to his bed to find a cloaked figure. She raised her hands and shoved back the hood of her overgarment.

  Without thinking, he made his way to her, stopping short of grabbing her and pulling her up and into his arms. “How did you get out?”

  “It was not easy,” she confessed while glancing at the entry to the tent.

  “No one will bother us the rest of the night,” he assured her.

  “Not even Simon?”

  “He announces himself before entering.”

  Ravyn nodded and relaxed.

  Carac glanced around for something to do. He spotted the jug of water and hurried to it. After pouring two goblets, he turned and held one out to her.

  Ravyn glanced at the drink before rising to her feet. She closed the distance between them and grasped the goblet from his hand. “Thank you.”

  “Have you eaten?”

  She took a drink, waiting until she swallowed before shaking her head. “There was no time.”

  “And Margery?”

  “Outside your tent. We do not intend to remain long. I just wanted you to know we are safe.”

  He set aside his water. “Sybbyl is looking for you. I even sent men searching. You cannot go out there.”

  “Of course, I can,” Ravyn replied with a smile. “We are good at remaining hidden.”

  “Perhaps. Yet I doubt you will rest easy. No one will search for you here.” As soon as the words were out, Carac knew that he would do anything to keep Ravyn in his tent.

  With him.

  “And Margery?” she asked.

  While he wanted time alone with Ravyn, he couldn’t very well tell her that. “She can remain here with you. She could also sleep in Simon’s tent.”

  “Carac,” Simon called from outside.

  He looked at Ravyn to await her nod. Once she’d agreed, Carac bade Simon enter. His friend’s gaze immediately landed on Ravyn. He gave her a welcoming smile.

  “Ravyn, I wanted to let you know that I have given Margery my tent. No one bothers me. Ever,” Simon stated. “You both can sleep there undisturbed the rest of the night.”

  Carac swung his head to Ravyn to find her lips curving into a grateful smile. The thoughts that filled his head of kissing her, removing every inch of leather from her body, and laying her on his bed rolled away like smoke.

  “That is very kind,” Ravyn told Simon. “I cannot thank you enough.”

  Simon bowed slightly. “We are fighting this war together. Carac can show you the way.”

  With that, Simon turned on his heel and departed.

  “Margery wanted me to tell you about us,” Ravyn said. “She thought you might help.”

  Carac raised a brow. “You did not agree with her?”

  “I am more wary of others.”

  “That is probably wise. I can have food brought to you and Margery.”

  She smiled. “We would appreciate that.”

  “And where shall I have it sent?” Surely, he wasn’t the only one who felt the attraction between them. Ravyn had to feel something.

  “Simon’s tent.”

  Carac barely
held his disappointment back.

  “For Margery,” Ravyn finished.

  He couldn’t hold back his grin. “And you?”

  “I wish to take your offer. Of sleeping here. With you.”

  All the blood rushed to his cock at her words. Did the woman have any idea what she did to him? How nothing but her words had him ready to drop to his knees and beg to touch her?

  She softly set her goblet beside his, her eyes lowered to the ground for a brief moment. “Does my forwardness shock you?”

  “Actually, I quite like it.”

  “Really?” she asked, stepping closer.

  He nodded, moving so that their bodies brushed together, and he rested his hands on her hips. “Indeed.”

  “Would you like to hear more?”

  “Aye.” The word came out like a hoarse whisper. With the desire coursing through him with such speed and heat, he was surprised he could speak at all.

  Her brown gaze swept over his face as she put her hands on his chest. She flattened her palms against him and moved her touch upward to his neck and then his jaw.

  The feel of her hands was like a brand, even through his clothes. If this were what she did to him now, he was likely to go up in flames when he finally got her naked. Just the thought of her bared before him made his mouth go dry.

  “I have wanted to touch you since I first saw you,” she confessed. “You stood so imposing, so strong, that my body was drawn to you of its own accord.”

  His hands slid around to her back where he splayed his palm against her and pulled her closer. Blood rushed through his body, pounding in his ears.

  It felt as if he had craved Ravyn for an eternity. Holding her made him feel alive. As if he had just now woken from an eternity of sleep. That, somehow, her touch pulled away the veil that shrouded the world, allowing him to finally see it clearly.

  See her.

  Everything was alive and vibrant. But all he saw was her. Inky black hair, seductive eyes, and a smile that pulled him ever closer.

  His hunger grew with every beat of his heart. The longer he went without tasting her lips, the more he yearned for her.

  His gaze dropped to her mouth as she rose up on her tiptoes. Her lids slid shut as her lips parted in invitation. He stared at her upturned face a moment more before he closed his eyes and lowered his head.