Page 95 of A Rogue in Moonlight
“I do. You will lose your glen without the funds I am offering you.”
“If you had my whisky stock and the rights to the spring,” Dougal went on, “what then? You do not know how to produce whisky. Little good the rest would do you.”
“Glen Kinloch distillery would produce it for me.”
“I sincerely doubt the glen folk who do the work would cooperate.” Dougal kept his voice low, controlled, though he vibrated with anger. “There is one problem with your scheme. If the fairy brew is ever sold, that will undo its magic, so the legend says. Oh, but it is just a legend,” he drawled. “What does it matter?”
“What do you mean?” Eldin leveled the pistol at him. “You lie. The stuff is powerful, and the magic of the Fey is what gives it potency.”
“If I take money for it—if any money changes hands—that will render the product to just a modest peat reek. The spring would cease to flow, would never again produce water for the fairy brew. According to tradition, that is. It might be all nonsense.”
“Not true. I heard none of that said in my inquiries,” Eldin said.
“Because it is a secret, you nasty man!” Lucy said. “Only our kin know. Not you!”
Quickly Fiona covered the child’s mouth, leaning to whisper to her.
“What do you mean, girl?” Eldin demanded.
“She is just a child speaking out of turn,” Fiona said, and sent the three children to the back of the cave into shadows. As she turned, Dougal saw her motion surreptiously to him, tipping her head and pointing to the back of the cave. No one saw but himself.
Frowning, he nodded slightly to tell her to stay back with the children. He wanted them out of harm’s way if it came to violence. She inclined her head again, and he understood she meant to go to the back of the cave for safety. Good, then.
“Child, what do you know?” Eldin barked. “What is the secret?”
“She is a bairn, and can be ill-mannered,” Dougal said. Lucy opened her mouth indignantly to speak, but Fiona clapped a hand over her lips again. “Enough, Lord Eldin,” Dougal continued. “Your so-called bargain would ruin the value of the fairy whisky forever. It would cease to be special, so legend claims.”
“You would say anything to protect that brew,” Eldin said.
“Put down the gun.” Dougal drew his pistol then, cocked and ready.
“Kinloch is an excellent shot,” Hugh said. “I would beware, sir.”
“Patrick has a good aim too,” Dougal said calmly. “He has not wavered a bit.”
“You would be guilty of shooting a revenue officer if you try,” Eldin said. He lifted the pistol once more. “You forget I am also a customs officer appointed to this region. MacGregor of Kinloch, I now arrest you in the name of the king for smuggling, and for a treasonous plot to steal revenue from the Crown.”
“Nicholas, please stop this!” Fiona said.
Eldin ignored her. “Put down the gun, Kinloch, or be shot—and others with you. I call it a good bargain indeed to catch such a scoundrel with his supply of whisky.”
“You are named an officer by title only,” Patrick said. “You paid for the position. He never rides out,” he added. “But he has some authority. Blast it all, Nick.”
“Eldin, do not be a fool,” Dougal said. “There is too much at risk here.”
“I ceased to care long ago, when my heart was taken from me. I need fairy magic to replace what I have lost in life,” he said in a low and dangerous voice. “Fairy magic of great strength, if I am ever to reclaim my heart and soul.” He glanced toward Fiona. “You wanted to know what happened to me? What I want? I want to feel again.”
Dougal looked toward Fiona. And stared. The back of the cave was dark. Empty. She was gone, and the children with her. Eldin noticed too.
“Fiona!” Eldin stepped toward the cave. As he turned, MacIan picked up the lantern and threw it toward Eldin, striking him on the shoulder, spilling sparks. It tumbled to the floor, but miraculously the light still glowed.
Eldin turned and fired the pistol toward Dougal and Patrick. The reverberation blasted through his ears, his skull, and the ball buzzed past like a metal bee, hitting the rock wall with an explosive crack. Moments later, a great rumbling shook the walls and grew to a trembling underfoot.
Part of the sheer rock wall cracked, then split, and the thunderous noise grew, peppered now with the hiss and sifting of dirt and smaller rocks.
“Fiona!” Dougal shouted, just as Patrick and Hugh threw themselves toward him in a heavy tackle that tossed all three backward to the upper slope of the walkway. Nearby, Eldin tumbled too, as limestone walls began to collapse around them, spewing rocks, dust, and shards of stone.
*
