Page 5 of Bound By Deception

She’d hoped for a break, but she wouldn’t be getting one. Most of the time, she lived under the illusion that she was in control of her destiny—that if a job didn’t suit her, she could decline. But today had shown Bree that she couldn’t say no to the Raven Queen. Despite the generous payment she received for each kill, she was Mor’s servant, herweapon.

3: THROUGH THE STONES

Three days later …

BREE TRAVELED TO The Ring of Caith alone.

Leaving the white walls of Caisteal Gealaich at her back, she set off northwest toward the stone circle. Tivesheh ran swiftly, bounding over lush meadows and glittering streams, the moon rising above them and the stars winking in the inky heavens.

It took her all night to reach her destination, and by the time they drew up at the foot of a large hill, the sky was glowing to the east. Dawn was breaking with the promise of yet another lovely day. Swinging down from the stag’s back, Bree placed ahand on his warm neck.This is goodbye for now … I don’t know when I’ll be back.

Tivesheh dipped his head.Just whistle, and I will come.

Bree sucked in a deep breath and turned away from her stag. She wasn’t one to linger over farewells.

Squaring her shoulders, she strode toward The Ring of Caith. The ancient stone circle loomed above her, grasping toward the sky like a claw. Climbing the hill, she tried to ignore her quickening pulse.

Aye, she was nervous—only a fool wouldn’t be.

There were many portals between the realms, most of them the barrows of long-dead kings. But traveling through the stone circles was dangerous to her kind, for Marav druids often lurked on the other side.

Although such places were important to the druids, they hadn’t made them. Instead, the Ancients—a long-dead race who’d once inhabited Albia—had raised the giant stones and worshipped their gods.

Bree had never dared get this close to The Ring of Caith before and hadn’t met anyone who’d crossed through this way. Mor’s last spy at Duncrag—a healer named Bryce Elmsong, who’d lived amongst the enemy for two years before going ominously silent—had done it though.

The queen had assured Bree that traveling through the stones wouldn’t inflict any lasting harm, although Bree had doubted her. As such, she’d gone down into the archives the day before and enlisted Gil’s help to find texts about the stone circles. Her brother had been surly and reluctant, but she’d bullied him into helping. There wasn’t much. Nonetheless, when Gil had dug deep, he’d discovered an old parchment, crumbling with age, that confirmed that it was safe for a Shee to pass both waysthrough the stones—an act that would kill any Marav who attempted it.

According to the text, when she returned to Sheehallion through the stones once more upon a solstice or equinox, she’d change back into her Shee form.

Halfway up the hill, Bree halted. She then drew her long thin steel-bladed dagger from its sheath, her fingers flexing on the bone hilt. She wasn’t entering Albia unarmed. The Day of the Hag was a sacred time for the Marav. Although The Ring of Caith was far from the nearest village or fort, it was wise to be cautious. There might be a host of druids dancing on the other side. She needed to be ready for them.

The Shee were a powerful race, but there were two things they feared: the kiss of iron on their skin, and the earth magic of druids. Enforcers—warrior-druids—wielded both, which was what made them such formidable opponents in battle.

A grim smile compressed Bree’s lips. Her people might not be able to summon earth magic, but they had many abilities that gave them the edge over their enemies. They were faster than the Marav, for one. They could also glamor themselves to take another form temporarily, meld with the shadows when they wished to pass unseen, and touch minds with animals.

Nonetheless, the race that lived beyond the veil in Albia wasn’t to be underestimated.

Bree exhaled sharply. She had to walk between the two largest stones that beckoned like lichen-encrusted, gnarled, upthrust fingers against the lightening sky. The sun needed to crest the heavens, breaking free from the line of mountains to the east, and appear directly between those two stones, at the same time.

Trying to ignore the thud of her pulse in her ears, she glanced over her shoulder, looking for Tivesheh. However, like his name—Ghost—the stag had disappeared. She was on her own.

Facing forward once more, she kept walking. “It’s just another job,” she reminded herself. “You haven’t failed Mor yet.” Bree’s fingers flexed once more upon the hilt of her dagger then.There’s always a first time.

The sun glinted ahead of her, and she lengthened her stride. Dressed in her usual hunting leathers, her fine blue cloak rippling behind her, she glided across the dew-laden grass.

Bree crested the top of the hill and paced toward the two stones.

Up here, the air felt different, charged, as if a thunderstorm loomed overhead. On the hillside below, there had been the whisper of the breeze, and the chirp and trill of birdsong, but up here, an eerie silence settled.

Upon the stones, she caught sight of engravings, ancient markings that gave this place its power.

The fine hair on the backs of her arms prickled. Unlike the barrows, which her kind usually traveled through whenever they wanted to reach Albia, these stone circles were infused with earth magic. Being so close to druidic energy made sweat bead upon her skin.

Don’t hesitate.

Setting her jaw, Bree headed for the gap between the stones. And the instant she stepped inside the stone circle, the rest of the world disappeared.

Suddenly, mist shrouded her, and the air grew heavier still, pushing against her on all sides. Pressure built in her chest, and she stumbled. It was like wading through a bog.

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