a wisp of air brushed her arms. A chill raced up her spine. Madeline . Airin's heart beat faster. Her younger sister was no longer satisfied with haunting Beaton Hall, she had returned to her childhood home. Another shift. Airin kicked, connecting with flesh and blood muscle of a man as a low grunt sounded. So the phantom was human. She kicked again, hitting air.
Nausea rolled through her. She stumbled, dropping the box, and groped for the bed. She missed and crashed to her 10
The Pendulum
by Tarah Scott
knees. A flash of light blazed behind her. Fire? Had she died and entered Hell? She glanced over her shoulder. Her vision blurred, but she made out a candle lying beside flaming gold brocade curtains. Airin fumbled for the bedpost, felt wood, then held tight as spots raced across her vision.
Shouts went up in the courtyard as she forced her head up to see a cloaked figure disappear into the passageway. She tightened her grip on the bedpost and heaved to her feet. Her knees buckled, but she held fast, swinging around to face the fire.
The hallway door struck the wall with a crack. Airin twisted around and her heart leapt into her throat. A giant stood in the doorway! Stories of pagan Celtic gods rising from the underworld to claim their victims sprang to mind. The god charged. She reared back before registering the men who rushed past him carrying buckets.
"Airin," a deep voice shouted as she fell sprawling just short of the wall.
She glimpsed the fallen box lying halfway under the bed before a voice near her shouted, "Water."
Airin yanked her gaze up and nearly jumped out of her skin at sight of the towering plaided god standing over her—
then she blinked. Deryll? She jammed her eyes shut and shook her head in an effort to dislodge the specter. Pain rattled the gray within her mind and she grimaced. She was having that dream again, only this time, it had taken a bad turn. She wanted to laugh. Dreaming while awake was surely a bad sign. Cold water doused her head.
11
The Pendulum
by Tarah Scott
"What—" she sputtered, spitting water and shaking her head again. By the saints, her head throbbed.
Someone shouted for more water.
Fingers closed around her arm hard enough to hurt and a yank brought her to her feet. Someone rushed past as strong arms slipped around her, brushing the curve of her breast as he scooped her close. Warmth rippled through her. She suddenly wanted nothing more than to burrow into his warmth. The mouth, a bare inch from hers, snagged her attention. He had Deryll's full mouth and square jaw. Were Deryll's hands as warm as this man's?
She leaned back and squinted. This man's face was fuller, more angled and—He stepped into the well-lit hallway and Airin went cold at sight of the scar running down the right side of his cheek. A man raced from the room, bumping into them.
Despite the pain, she narrowed her eyes on her rescuer.
"Sir Scar-let ." She slurred the insult.
Amusement glinted in his green eyes.
"Airin!"
Airin tore her gaze from the Scarlet Knight and stared at the older man running toward them. He halted at the door, grasped the doorjamb on each side and leaned into the room.
He pivoted to face her, and demanded, "What have you done?"
She flashed a lopsided smile. "Hello, Father."
The pain wasn't so bad now, she thought, and swooned.
* * * *
12
The Pendulum
by Tarah Scott
Airin shifted against her bed pillows. "Gone?" She gave her father a quizzical look.
He snatched the fragment of purple velvet from the night table and tossed it onto the bed beside her. Shadowed hills and valleys leapt to life on the fabric's surface and she wished she could disappear in the beautiful landscape. She lifted her gaze. Light from two newly lit candles sitting on the far edge of the night table reflected in her father's amber eyes.
"When did I steal the brooch?" she asked. "I arrived but an hour ago and have since been surrounded by you and your servants."
"I heard your cross words
Nausea rolled through her. She stumbled, dropping the box, and groped for the bed. She missed and crashed to her 10
The Pendulum
by Tarah Scott
knees. A flash of light blazed behind her. Fire? Had she died and entered Hell? She glanced over her shoulder. Her vision blurred, but she made out a candle lying beside flaming gold brocade curtains. Airin fumbled for the bedpost, felt wood, then held tight as spots raced across her vision.
Shouts went up in the courtyard as she forced her head up to see a cloaked figure disappear into the passageway. She tightened her grip on the bedpost and heaved to her feet. Her knees buckled, but she held fast, swinging around to face the fire.
The hallway door struck the wall with a crack. Airin twisted around and her heart leapt into her throat. A giant stood in the doorway! Stories of pagan Celtic gods rising from the underworld to claim their victims sprang to mind. The god charged. She reared back before registering the men who rushed past him carrying buckets.
"Airin," a deep voice shouted as she fell sprawling just short of the wall.
She glimpsed the fallen box lying halfway under the bed before a voice near her shouted, "Water."
Airin yanked her gaze up and nearly jumped out of her skin at sight of the towering plaided god standing over her—
then she blinked. Deryll? She jammed her eyes shut and shook her head in an effort to dislodge the specter. Pain rattled the gray within her mind and she grimaced. She was having that dream again, only this time, it had taken a bad turn. She wanted to laugh. Dreaming while awake was surely a bad sign. Cold water doused her head.
11
The Pendulum
by Tarah Scott
"What—" she sputtered, spitting water and shaking her head again. By the saints, her head throbbed.
Someone shouted for more water.
Fingers closed around her arm hard enough to hurt and a yank brought her to her feet. Someone rushed past as strong arms slipped around her, brushing the curve of her breast as he scooped her close. Warmth rippled through her. She suddenly wanted nothing more than to burrow into his warmth. The mouth, a bare inch from hers, snagged her attention. He had Deryll's full mouth and square jaw. Were Deryll's hands as warm as this man's?
She leaned back and squinted. This man's face was fuller, more angled and—He stepped into the well-lit hallway and Airin went cold at sight of the scar running down the right side of his cheek. A man raced from the room, bumping into them.
Despite the pain, she narrowed her eyes on her rescuer.
"Sir Scar-let ." She slurred the insult.
Amusement glinted in his green eyes.
"Airin!"
Airin tore her gaze from the Scarlet Knight and stared at the older man running toward them. He halted at the door, grasped the doorjamb on each side and leaned into the room.
He pivoted to face her, and demanded, "What have you done?"
She flashed a lopsided smile. "Hello, Father."
The pain wasn't so bad now, she thought, and swooned.
* * * *
12
The Pendulum
by Tarah Scott
Airin shifted against her bed pillows. "Gone?" She gave her father a quizzical look.
He snatched the fragment of purple velvet from the night table and tossed it onto the bed beside her. Shadowed hills and valleys leapt to life on the fabric's surface and she wished she could disappear in the beautiful landscape. She lifted her gaze. Light from two newly lit candles sitting on the far edge of the night table reflected in her father's amber eyes.
"When did I steal the brooch?" she asked. "I arrived but an hour ago and have since been surrounded by you and your servants."
"I heard your cross words
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