Free Highland Moon Sifter (a Highland Sorcery novel) by Clover Autrey Page B

By his dumbfounded expression he knew he’d been insulted, he just didn’t know how. Haddon glanced about at his fellows for assistance, but their perplexed looks offered no help.
    Shaw stifled the grin from settling into his features. The wee lass had them by rights.
    Haddon shifted from one foot to the other. “Maoil, go inquire of the Sorcerer what he would have us do with the betrayer.”
    A young warrior with the light features of the MacTavis bobbed his head and ran off toward the keep.
    Haddon rolled his shoulders in an attempt to regain the higher ground he was sinking on. “If ye’re truly here peaceably, ye’ll offer no resistance to binding yer hands.” The warrior stretched an arm out to the side and Eber Horsetooth placed a coil of rope in his waiting palm.
    In answer, Shaw placed his wrists together and stretched out his arms.
    Haddon made quick work of tying Shaw’s wrists and as a final touch, he removed a thin chain from around his neck and twined it around the rope.
    Iron. The superstitious dolt believed a wee bit of iron could undo his magic. If his magic stemmed from the ether or the absent Fae, mayhap that might weaken it, but his magic was born of moonlight and darkness where iron had no power.
    A fluff of cloud rolled across the sky.
    Haddon stepped back as soon as he completed binding Shaw as though touching the Moon Sifter somehow tainted him. “Now we wait to see if Toren Limont can be bothered to speak with one such as you.”
    “As reassurance that he’ll mind his manners with our Sorcerer…” Eber edged toward him. “I say we take his galladh within the yard for safekeeping.” His thick hand reached out to clamp onto Bekah’s arm, but the lass was quick and not to be taken so easily. Spinning out of Horsetooth‘s grasp, she dodged left, crouched and swept her leg out behind him, tripping the old warrior over to thud flat on his back.
    Which would have been quite amusing if Haddon hadn’t plowed into her injured side, taking her to the ground.
    “Do not touch her!” Full of rage, Shaw lunged forward, shoving Haddon off with his bound hands, while what little was left of his exhausted magic tingled beneath his skin, lighting in an aura of silver glow before spluttering out at the same time two more warriors threw themselves against him, knocking Shaw back onto his arse.
    Stunned silence choked off all sound and movement.
    On her hands and knees, Bekah’s eyes shimmered in apology, blurring as Shaw’s vision wavered in a bout of nausea. ‘Twas an inopportune time to expose his weakness.

“The iron has taken his magic,” Horsetooth whispered.
    The warriors gathered closer around him, their bravery growing in his obvious weakness and distress.  
    “We’ve well and truly caught the Betrayer.” Haddon smirked in triumph, his roughened features blurring even as the forest listed sideways.
    “No, don’t,” he heard Bekah cry at the same moment a blunt pain slammed into the back of his head and a blackness rimmed in swinging axes dripping blood raised up to swallow him whole.

    Chapter Eleven

    Shaw swam up to consciousness in stages. Bekah’s voice pierced in and out through a layer of fleece around his brain, reaming someone out as shrilly as a banshee swooping in low over her unfortunate prey. “…dare call him that…have no idea what he’s…sacrifi…save your asses…” He floated back under the swell of ashy haze.
    When he next awoke ‘twas to another worried feminine voice.
    “He’s dying. I can feel what’s been done to him, but I can’t unravel it.”
    He knew that voice, the exotic lilt, though he hadn’t heard it in years, did not know what had happened to her after his capture on the hill above his village. He’d assumed Toren had sent her back to her own time.
    Energy tingled inside him, a light searching touch of gentle mist. Healing magic, though naught was being healed. If it were, there would be pain.
    “What can be done for him?” Even