Jan Delima - Celtic Moon

Without hesitation, Sarah turned toward the woods, issuing a sharp whistle. Malsum and four other guards came forward, bathed in moonlight while they listened to a brief explanation from their female comrade. As several doubt-filled eyes landed on Sophie, she lifted her chin, not caring if they thought her insane.

She recounted her vision, adding details with useful location markers, “I saw a man, in a field by a cluster of white birches. There was a dead tree in the distance, with a bird carved on its trunk. They have Taran and her daughter. Taran told them where we are.”

“Taran wouldn’t betray us,” one of the guards murmured.

“The man was beating a child I believe was Taran’s daughter,” Sophie countered. “There were shadows on the ground. Shapes that weren’t moving. I’m not sure if it was your guards or not. I just know it felt too real to be ignored and we need to get a message to Dylan.”

“I know the field you speak of. It borders our land.” Malsum had silenced the other guards with a displeased glare. “Sarah, you will leave now and apprise Dylan of his mate’s warning. Use Yellow Moss Trail.” He turned to one of the other male guards. “Michael, you do the same, but follow East Branch south and warn the others before circling back. Whoever gets there first, tell Dylan we’re returning to Rhuddin Hall on foot and that we’ll follow the back Arwel passage.”

Sarah and Michael dispersed in the directions they were ordered, while the remaining three guards looked to Malsum for further instruction. Their grave stance grounded Sophie’s conviction that danger was imminent. Her stomach tightened with unease.

And she wanted Dylan with her; she wanted to be back at Rhuddin Hall, with her family safe and under his direct protection. In just a few days she had unknowingly embraced a side of herself she hadn’t acknowledged for such a long time, a softer side.

Unfortunately, Dylan wasn’t there. She was. And there were children who needed to be evacuated to another safe house. A calm determination settled over her, a focus built from sixteen years of preparation for an attack. That time had come, though not as she’d predicted. No matter. She may not be as strong as Malsum or the other remaining men watching her with apprehension, but she knew how to run, and she knew how to hide, and she most definitely knew how to keep those she cared about safe.

And, if needed, she also knew how to fight.

“I think we should separate into four groups.” She spoke directly to Malsum, trusting him, at the very least, to listen without contempt. “Let the others find a secure place with the children, a place that no one will suspect, and stay hidden. Without sharing their destination,” she added. “We can continue to Rhuddin Hall.”

She assumed he would balk at such a noncombative suggestion, and was pleasantly surprised when he gave a sharp nod for the others to begin. “The plan is sound,” he said. “Do as Dylan’s mate has instructed. We’ll ring the church bell when it’s safe to come out. Dylan’s family will stay with me.”

“Call me Sophie,” she added after his second referral to her as “Dylan’s mate.”

“Sophie,” Malsum returned, “go gather your family.”

“What about Taran and her daughter? We need to find Luc and tell him what’s happened, about the Guardians . . .”

“I trust Luc is already aware of the situation,” he said. “If Taran and her daughter are still alive, he will bring them to Elen.”

“Okay.” His conviction eased her conscience. Moreover, Sophie had learned a bit about Malsum after his lesson with Joshua. He was second in command under Luc in Dylan’s guard, a shifter and the chosen warrior of his father’s people. His heritage was Abanaki and Celt. His wolf, she now knew, came from his Celt ancestors, but his human side was just as prevalent. His skin flaunted the rich tones of his native heritage, golden brown and smooth. His eyes were soft brown, but beneath the kindness was an unmistakable strength of will. Of honor.

Sophie trusted his judgment.

The removal of the children and their parents took less than a minute. They were led out the back door of the basement, camouflaged by cedar hedges and cottages not built in rows, but rather like a maze with hidden backyards. As she checked the basement one last time, she couldn’t help but ponder over how much her life had changed in just a few short days. Trust, it seemed, was a powerful persuader to an even greater emotion. These people were not only Dylan’s, but somehow they had become hers as well.

“Everyone is cleared from the basement,” she announced, returning to where her family huddled on the back lawn, Elen included, although her sister-in-law kept trying to leave and was unaccustomed to being told no.

After the groups dispersed in different directions with their precious cargo underfoot, Elen turned to Malsum. “I will go to the clinic and wait.”

“No,” Sophie repeated for the third time, shaking her head. “Somehow the Guardian knew you weren’t there. They must be watching it.”

She pursed her lips. “But if it’s me they’re after, then at the very least I must separate from you.”

“No.” Francine joined the argument, frowning with clear disapproval. “My daughter’s right. Our family stays together. We can all squeeze into one car—”

“A vehicle is too visible,” Malsum cut her off. “And the road circles away from Rhuddin Hall. If we move now it will be quicker on foot.”

“Fine.” Francine marched toward a cluster of low-growing trees, where the hidden passage began that Dylan had shown them earlier. She turned, clearly annoyed that the others hadn’t immediately followed. “Let’s move, people.” She snapped her fingers, motivating them into motion, even Malsum.

“ENOUGH OF THIS BULLSHIT,” RYDER SPOKE UP FOR THE first time. “I, like Dylan, feel the Guardians are restless. Once they learn a shifter has been born from this land, they will come. Frankly, I’m surprised they haven’t sooner. It’s time to band together. I will join your alliance, Dylan.”

“Count me in as well,” Madoc announced, glaring at the remaining leaders in disgust when they didn’t immediately voice their support.

“Thank you,” Dylan returned with a nod.

“This is not a decision to make lightly,” Isabeau said gravely. “I will consider what you’ve shared this night . . .” Her voice trailed off, suddenly distracted. Her head cocked toward the forest.

Dylan also heard the movement of sound, too focused to be random. Sarah emerged within seconds, running as a wolf in their direction. “She’s one of mine,” he informed the others before they reacted with force, his gut tightening with dread.

When Sarah reached their circle, she shifted. Panting, eyes wild, she turned to Dylan. “We’ve moved the children from the safe house. Your wife . . .” She swallowed, took a ragged breath. “Your wife believes she had a vision. She believes the Guardians are here.”

“Where is she?” Dylan grabbed Sarah by the arms and shook, too desperate to hide his reaction. “Where are my wife and son?”

“They’re on their way here. Malsum and Elen are with them. They took the back Arwel passage.”

THE NIGHT SKY WEPT SHARDS OF ICE THAT TURNED TO rain, acting like a troubled soul, sleeping one moment and screaming the next. “Is this weather normal?” Sophie asked Malsum.

“Define ‘normal,’” he whispered back with a hint of humor in his voice.

“Point taken.”

The trail widened once they moved beyond the undergrowth that concealed the opening. Buds had begun to form, but many branches remained bare, their leaves not open enough to offer protection from the steady drizzle of rain. Moss covered rocks and roots, while puddles formed in the dip of the trail. The pungent scent of wet pine filled the air. Sophie concentrated on her footing, bracing her steps on the slippery ground. Her clothes clung to her skin, pasted by rain and sweat, as Malsum quickened their pace.