Page 60 of An Unlikely Knight

Erin shrugged.

“It should probably be you, Aubrey, who summons him,” Gwen informed them.

Aubrey’s eyes rounded like saucers. “Oh no, I just had the idea. I am not into any of this.” She made a circular motion with her right hand. “That man was huge and scary and he’s probably a bad guy.” She stood. “Know what, bad idea. Very bad idea.”

“Remember the box grandmother gave us?” Erin asked.

Aubrey slowly nodded.

Letting out a breath, Erin lifted the small dagger. “This was in it. Aubrey, it’s possible that we are meant to be part of this. Have been meant to be here all along.”

Aubrey reluctantly reached for the blade and inspected it. “Grandmother had this?”

This time it was Erin who nodded. “Yes and remember what she said that an item in the box would someday help us, or something like that.”

“I will stay, but only because of this. And I prefer not to summon him.” Aubrey handed the dagger back to Erin.

Erin herself was nervous at the idea of seeing Gunther once more, but she would face him again if it meant helping Padriag.

“He is not that scary. But he is huge and a bit off-putting,” Tammie said.

“Off-putting!” Aubrey exclaimed. “That is putting it mildly.”

John motioned to Aubrey. “Perhaps your presence will be enough. If you could just assist, it would be helpful.”

Lowering to sit, Aubrey squeezed herself between John and Gwen. “Very well, but I am not going to talk to him. In case he tries anything, I’m hiding behind the biggest person.” She gave John a sweet smile. “Have no doubt, I will sacrifice you in a minute.”

“I do not blame you,” John replied and stood, straightening to his full height. His voice carried quiet authority as he spoke. “Tammie, Gwen, Sabrina, and I will form a protective square around the room. Aubrey, sit outside the circle. Erin, stand next to Gwen—she has the strongest magic.”

As they moved into position, John, Gwen, Sabrina and Tammie took a deliberate stance, hands outstretched, forming an unbroken chain of power. Their murmur of ancient words filled the air, the chant rhythmic and steady. Erin’s skin prickled as a chill raced over her arms, and she exchanged a glance with Aubrey, who sat rigid, her eyes wide with fascination.

Then, the air shifted. A breeze stirred, unnatural and deliberate, sending Erin’s hair fluttering around her face. In the center of their formation, shimmering particles of silver light spiraled, twisting until forming into a denser shape. A heartbeat later, Gunther appeared.

He looked around the room with confusion, his ice-blue eyes scanning the room, his scarred face tight. He stood barefoot, clad only in breeches, a damp cloth clutched in his hand, evidence they had pulled him from whatever mundane task he had been tending to.

A deep frown creased his brow as his gaze swept over them, lingering the longest on Aubrey. For a moment, he simply stared at her, something unreadable flickering in his sharp eyes before he growled, “What am I doing here?”

Erin couldn’t ignore the imposing sight of him—broad shoulders taut with muscle, his torso crisscrossed with old battle scars, each one a testament to a life of suffering. The most striking of all was the jagged mark running from his brow down to his jaw. Somehow, rather than diminishing his handsome face, it only made him more formidable. With his near-white blond hair and those piercing, glacial eyes, his Dutch ancestry was undeniable.

Gunther’s expression darkened as he took a step back. “I cannot be here.”

“We need your help,” Erin stated firmly.

Tammie folded her arms. “Consider it repayment for kidnapping us.”

Gunther’s gaze flicked back to Aubrey before he exhaled slowly. “I cannot help you.”

“Why not?” John pressed. “There is no other way to get a message to our men.”

Sabrina tilted her head, watching him closely. “Do you not wish to redeem yourself?”

A muscle in Gunther’s jaw flexed. “There is no redemption for me.” He let out a slow, measured breath. “I should return before I’m missed.”

Aubrey stood then, moving toward him, her expression pleading. “I know it’s dangerous. I know you risk being caught. But we only need one small thing delivered.”

Gunther tilted his head back, as if searching for strength in the ceiling’s beams. “What is it?”

“This,” Erin answered, producing a dagger and holding it out. “We need it to reach Padraig.”

His gaze dropped to the weapon, then rose to meet hers, his expression unreadable. But then, his voice came low and grave. “You should know—the attack is imminent. They will not survive. Their time has run out.” He gestured toward the dagger. “That will change nothing.”

Silence fell over the room, heavy and suffocating. Erin’s chest tightened as dread curled inside her. She slid a look to Gwen who’s eyes shone with unshed tears.

Still, Erin lifted the dagger higher, her voice unwavering. “Take it. Even if it doesn’t change the outcome, we have to try.”

For a long moment, Gunther didn’t move. Then something flickered in his eyes—pity, perhaps, or reluctant understanding.

“Very well,” he murmured. “I will try.”

He reached for the dagger, and the moment his fingers closed around the hilt, he vanished with a swirl of lights.

Erin released a shaky breath and let her shoulders sag. “He’ll get it to him. It has to work.”

No one answered. Slowly, they returned to their seats, the weight of uncertainty settling over them like a heavy shroud. There was nothing left to do but wait—wait and pray for the survival of the five brave knights.