Page 37 of The Highland Curse
“Where are ye taking me?” she demanded, straining against his hold. “There’s nay reason for us tae climb tae the high tower.”
But he didn’t answer, nor did he loosen his grip. Adrina had no choice but to follow him up the winding stairway.
Many years before she was born, the high tower was the place where prisoners were kept, and in some instances, they were tortured and executed there. On a dare, she had gone to the tower once when she was a bairn with some of the servant children. An eeriness clung to the small chamber as if the spirits of all the tortured prisoners haunted the space. She had nightmares about the room for weeks, and she decided that she would never set foot in that dark chamber ever again. But now she would be locked in the room.
Almost too soon, they came to the wooden door that barricaded the tower chamber.
“I’m nae going in there,” she said.
“I’m nae giving ye a choice,” he said tightly. It was clear that he was losing patience with her. If she continued to aggravate him, there was no telling what he would do to her. For the time being, she had to stop resisting him. Perhaps when they entered the chamber, he would let down his guard long enough for her to break free. It was only a matter of biding her time until an opportunity arose. She just prayed that she didn’t have to wait too long.
With his wiry grip still trapping her arm, Fingal used his free hand to obtain the large key from his sporran. Unlocking the door, he thrust his foot at the wooden panel.
The oak door crashed open, hitting the stone wall with a resounding thud.
He shoved her inside the chamber, the sudden movements disturbing the dust particles and tossing them into the cool air. Leading her to the far wall, he abruptly forced her down to the floor. Adrina dropped to her knees while the rough surface scraped against her skin. She saw the heavy chains piled on the ground, and knew that her chance for escaping would soon disappear. Ignoring the sharp pain at her knees, she scrambled to get up. But Fingal easily snatched her by the waist, and slammed her against the wall.
“Ye are nae going anywhere,” he growled. Reaching down, he picked up the manacle.
“Nay, please dinnae do this, Fingal,” she pleaded, changing her tactic, and not caring that she now begged. But he was immune to her appeal, and before she could continue, he secured the shackles around her wrists.
“Bastard,” she spat in his face. “Ye will pay for this ill-treatment! When my parents return from their travels, I’ll have ye chained here in my place. And then ye will suffer.”
“Och, sae ye believe that ye can do this, hmm?” His lips curled into a sneer. He wiped the spittle from his cheek with the back of his hand. “Well, ye can forget about it. Your parents willnae be returning tae Dunnvie Castle.”
There was a finality to his tone, and she ceased her movements. “What do ye mean that my parents willnae be returning?” she asked, her voice sounding faint. The stale air in the small chamber suddenly felt even more stifling, and she could scarcely breathe.
“Tell me what ye have done with my parents,” she said, the anguished words coming out before she could stop them.
He studied her for a long while, and then he smiled at her, showing his ugly teeth. “I was just going tae leave this chamber, but I think ye have persuaded me tae change my mind,” he said, walking over to the exit. Adrina didn’t know why, but when he closed the door, it felt as if he had closed off the entire world. The half-smile on his lips brought a chill to run down her spine. She now knew that he planned to leave her chained to the wall. And with no one to help her, it was certain that she would be locked in her prison indefinitely.
“They’re dead,” he said, his tone nonchalant.
“Dead?” she repeated. She leaned heavily against the wall. Somehow the revelation couldn’t penetrate her mind right away, and she stared at him, wide-eyed and numb. She had hoped and prayed that the visions she had of her parents had been wrong, that the pictures were only a part of her overactive imagination. She might have even convinced herself that she had lost her mind, as everyone suggested. But in all the years that she had known Fingal, he had never made a jest. And the gloat on his face assured her that he was sincere in his admission. Her skin began to crawl, and the feeling of dread ballooned in her chest. She had already suspected that something had happened to her parents, but to hear the actual words felt as if a bucket of icy water was tossed over her head.
If the solid wall behind her hadn’t provided support, her legs would have buckled. All at once she recalled the image of her parents being ushered to the gallows. Even now she could picture the stoic look on her father’s countenance while her mother had fallen to pieces.
Adrina placed a hand to her throat as a choking sound emerged. There was no doubt in her mind what happened next.
Fingal folded his arms over his chest, watching her. His slender fingers stroked at his gray beard. “I guess it wouldnae hurt tae tell ye how they died,” he drawled.
“Ye used my great-grandmother’s book of magic,” she said, the bile rising from her gullet.
He tilted his head to the side and gave her a curious look. “How did ye ken that?”
“I perceive that the book that ye carry isnae for your reading pleasure.” She glared at him. “I saw ye conjuring a spell in the spare chamber. Ye cast your sorcery for evil gain.”
Fingal pulled the book out from his belt and looked at it. “Och, now that would explain it. I should have locked the door while I worked. But there’s nay need for me tae worry about what ye saw. Ye forget that I’ve convinced everyone that ye are possessed by demons. Nay one would ever believe what ye say.”
“When the other clans discover ye have taken over Clan MacGill, ye will be questioned.”
“When they arrive here, the curious ones will discover that I’m the proper laird here.” He let out a laugh, his meaning clear. “Anyone who enters the gates of Dunnvie Castle will be put under my influence, and they would be none the wiser. ‘Twas fortunate that I discovered your brooch.” He dug into his sporran and pulled out the jewelry. Holding it up in the air, he admired it. “I wondered for a long while how ‘twas only ye who were unaffected by my spells, but now I understand.” He lifted up his hand, and set it next to the clasp. “This ring was stored away with the book of incantations. At the time I thought ‘twas just a pretty trinket, but now its genuine purpose is revealed.”
“When the MacGregon brought ye back here, ye had me worried,” he continued, and dropped the gold ornament back into his pouch. “I thought about using my potent magic on ye, however I’ve since changed my mind. I think ‘twould give me greater satisfaction tae witness your agony, and have ye ken the reason for it.”
Her hand clutched at the iron links, making the chains rattle. She wished that she had the strength to break the restraints from the walls and launch herself at him. Unfortunately she neither had the power nor the brawn to overpower him.
“What will ye do with me afterward?” she asked.
