Page 9 of Once Upon A Haunted Castle
Elle turned to the window, walking slowly toward it.
“The dagger, lass,” the ghost said, an urgency in his voice.
“I have no dagger,” she lied, feeling the cold metal of hersgian dubhagainst her forearm and the second one hidden against her ankle in her boot. She could have pulled her weapon on Beiste earlier when he’d thrust her in this room, but one should only attack when a semblance of victory could be imagined. And right now, in her weakened state, she was fully aware that she’d not be successful in any attack.
“Use the fire poker then.”
Elle rolled her eyes at the idea of taking the thick fire poker to her finger or forearm. Any way she went about it with the tool, her blood oath would likely end with her life, for she’d have to stab herself hard with the dull edge of the poker to cut her skin. “I will not make the blood oath.” And then she ran toward the window, intent on leaping through the narrow slit, ending it all now. “Forgive me!”
But as soon as she reached the stones, the MacDougall leapt in front of her. Whatever power he’d been able to summon caused a blunt wall of force to shove her backward.
Elle fell on her rear, jarring her entire body up and through her jaw. She was momentarily stunned, unable to figure out what happened until MacDougall loomed once more in front of her—a black shadow, formidable. Any previous doubts of his existence were quickly wiped away.
“Why did ye do that?” Her voice was filled with accusation.
“I canna allow ye to take your life. Not if ye’re wanting to get out of being the fairies’ maiden.”
“What?”
“A blood oath is all that’s required. If ye choose to end it now, then ye’re as good as agreeing.”
He wasn’t making sense. “So I must remain alive?”
“Well that is your choice.” MacDougall tugged at the shadow of a long beard. She had the sense of the stubble not being attached to anything but air and this movement was one he did out of habit.
“But I have no choice! Ye’ve just said I will be damned whether I throw myself from the window or not.”
The ghost shrugged. “I suppose I should have told ye, ye’ve no choice. But damnation is far from what they offer. The fairies have decided to gift ye with eternity.”
She slammed her hands down on the wood floorboards, shouting, “Then why did ye even ask me? I dinna want it!”
“I’m sorry for misleading ye, lass. I’d hoped that if ye said aye, ye’d have thought it was your own doing.”
“But ye knew all along I had no choice.”
“Sometimes, when there is an appearance of choice, one is more easily able to accept one’s fate.”
Elle’s chest burned with anger. “But I didna choose this.”
“I didna choose to be killed by the bastards out there.”
“And I didna choose for them to attack my family, either.”
“And my family. Ye see, life is really only filled with the appearances of choice. The rest is simply our response.”
Elle shook her head. “Nay. I refuse. I refuse to believe I am walking through this life waiting for things to happen to me. I never did so before and I willna do it now.”
MacDougall chuckled, but rather than it being a jovial sound, it scraped over her nerves. “Ye’re a feisty lass.”
“I am my mother’s daughter.”
“A Viking, she was.”
“Aye.”
“Never met a fiercer woman.” He nodded at her. “Ye do remind me of her. I still remember the day I met her. Pulled her from the water myself.”
“Her ship had crashed.”
