Chapter Six

Keiran walked past the drawing room after finishing his talk with the English soldier and stopped at the doorway. On the opposite wall hung the Fairy Flag, protected between plates of glass. The ancient relic called to him, and he stepped inside the chamber, going to stand before the faded yellow silk with embroidered red elf dots and crosses upon it. He had heard Oberon speak of the magical cloth in the fairy realm. But he had not realised the value it had for his clan until Aria and Graeme had come to trade the artifact for his safe return to the human realm.

They had not been forced to sacrifice the priceless treasure, as they had defeated the fairy king before he had taken possession. Yet once Oberon managed a return to Fairyland from whatever void he had been cast into by the fairies’ combined forces, he would want to reclaim the magical flag his daughter, Pearl, had given to the MacLeods centuries ago.

Keiran stepped closer, examining the relic. Except this was not the original Fairy Flag. If it were, he would see a soft silver aura about it as he did when he looked at Aria with her magical white glow. Everything that came out of Fairyland had an aura. Keiran’s aura was purple even though he had been born to the human realm. He was almost certain no one here at Dunvegan, except Aria and perhaps his mother, could see auras.

He reached out to touch the glass protecting the magical cloth and wondered where the real Fairy Flag had gone.

At a shuffle in the doorway, Keiran turned, his hand on his sword. At the sight of his brothers Alastair, Tormod, and Orrick, Keiran relaxed his grip.

“There you are,” Alastair said, stepping into the chamber. His blue-green aura, the signs of a leader and peacemaker, warmed the chamber. “We have been looking for you.” Tormod and Orrick entered behind their brother.

Keiran turned back to the flag. “Why do you have a replica of the Fairy Flag?”

“How did you know it was a copy?” Orrick came to stand beside Keiran, Orrick’s yellow aura mixing with Keiran’s own purple to create brown. Keiran wished he could see his family for what they were without seeing the soft colours hovering around them, but at least he knew what he could expect from each of them. Orrick was a logical, cheerful person whereas Tormod was the strong and energetic brother with his red aura.

“I can see when things are touched with magic, and this cloth is not, yet all of you are.”

“You can see the hint of fairy blood that runs in our veins?” Orrick lifted his arm and squinted his eyes, searching for the aura Keiran could easily see.

“Come, sit.” Alastair took a seat in one of the four tall-backed chairs near the hearth. “There is much to discuss.”

Keiran and his brothers took up the other three chairs as Alastair explained, “The real Fairy Flag has been kept hidden after the MacDonald clan tried to steal it last year. We would be happy to show you where we keep the true Fairy Flag.”

“Nay. I do not want to know that secret. My not knowing will keep the treasure safe.” Despite the boon they had offered him, Keiran frowned. “The flag you sent with Aria to Fairyland was the replica then?”

“The plan was to get you out of Fairyland before Oberon discovered the truth,” Tormod said, crossing his long legs before him.

Despite having been returned to his birth family and thrilled to be amongst them once again, if Keiran were honest, there was still a part of him that held a fondness for the fairy king who had raised him. “Oberon would have been furious had he discovered that truth.” Keiran’s gaze returned to the replica of the flag. “Even though this copy can fool everyone else, it will not fool Oberon for long when he is in its presence.”

“That will be difficult for him to do since he is dead,” Tormod snorted. When Keiran did not join in his amusement, Tormod’s features turned serious. “He is dead, is he not?”

“Nay,” Keiran admitted. He realised in that moment his brothers would want to know the truth. They would want to know their enemy might return rather than live in ignorance. “It would take a lot more than a little fairy magic to turn Oberon into dust. He most likely was transported to another realm, or another time. And when he discovers how to reverse what the other fairies have done, he will return to punish those who upended his life and his reign over the fairies.”

“I suspected as much.” Alastair leaned forward. “I am not worried about the Fairy Flag, but how do we keep you safe? Because if Oberon comes here, he’ll want to take you back with him, will he not?”

Keiran shrugged. “I do not know, but now is not the time to worry about such things. It could take Oberon years to find his way back.”

“How were you able to force the soldier to talk?” Orrick suddenly interrupted. At Keiran’s startled expression, Orrick continued. “I was watching from the doorway. You placed your hand on him and there was a flash of light that passed from you into the man. What was that?”

“You could see the light?” A heaviness came to Keiran’s throat, and he cursed himself for it. These were his brothers, yet he was suddenly afraid of what they might think of him when they learned the truth.

Orrick’s gaze continued to probe Keiran’s.

He straightened and turned his head away, hiding his sudden fear.

“Trust in us, Keiran.”

He glanced back at Orrick, Tormod, then Alastair. Their faces were filled with more concern than curiosity. Sweet heavens, he wanted to trust them. After two weeks in their presence, he knew they would be understanding. He needed someone to confide in. He was so alone at times.

“I am not the brother who left here nine years ago. I am changed in many ways,” Keiran admitted.

“None of us are the same,” Orrick said. “Your absence and Mother and Father’s deaths changed us all.”

“’Tis more than that.” Keiran paused and drew a fortifying breath. Better to say this quickly. His brothers knew something was different about him. They would only keep asking. It was time to tell them the truth. “Oberon did not like having an infant in his court, so within a few days of my arrival in Fairyland, he aged me to ten and four years of age. What he did not realise about humans was that in their teenage years, they are clumsy and sometimes moody.

“As I accompanied the other fairies in their activities and learned the ways of fairy life, I kept falling out of trees, tripping over roots in the forest, slashing my leg on the ragged rocks along the shoreline. I even stabbed myself as I was learning how to battle, not to mention the wounds I incurred from the blades of others.

“Frustrated by always having to mend my frail body when compared to the sturdiness of the fae folk, Oberon cast a spell, imbuing me with the powers of healing and death. He changed me, turning me into the male counterpart to the Celtic goddess Morrigan. I have not explored all the facets of magic he gifted me with, but I know I can heal, or take away life. The other fairies told me I could also manipulate the weather, the elements, and the minds of others, though I have never tried. I embody both life and death, creation and destruction, order and chaos.”

When he had finished with his confession, Keiran sank back against his chair, suddenly exhausted, waiting for his brothers to say something, anything. But they simply stared at him with a mixture of awe and confusion.

“Oberon did not take those powers away from you when you left Fairyland?” Alastair asked, breaking the silence.

“I do not think he remembered he had given them to me, or I am certain he would have. The other fairies tended to avoid me. They were jealous that I was considered a favoured son even though I was human. And the only times I ever used my powers in Fairyland was to heal myself, so not many might remember I even had them.”

“This is truly amazing, Keiran. With your powers we have an edge we did not possess before when fighting our enemies. Yet only you shall decide how it is to be used.” Alastair’s gaze was filled with awe for a moment before the look faded. “And though you were given this gift, it came at a terrible price, we now realise. You were alone for a long time, but no more.” Alastair reached out and placed his hand on Keiran’s arm. “You are a MacLeod, our family, our brother, and we love you.”

“You never had a chance to be a child?” Orrick’s gaze connected with Keiran’s. “You were forced into adulthood so quickly and were given not necessarily a gift, but a huge burden with your powers.”

“That explains the response the soldier had when you touched him,” Tormod said. “You were draining a bit of life from him with your hands.”

Keiran nodded. “It was not my intent to harm him in any lasting way. Only to get him to talk.”

“The man’s wounds, Rosalyn’s wounds—you healed them?” Alastair asked.

Again, Keiran nodded. “I could not let Rosalyn die on that battlefield. And the soldier possessed information I needed to try to keep her safe.” Keiran turned to look at Alastair. “Now that we know it was Rosalyn’s betrothed who order her death, what will you do with the soldier?”

“Our plans have not changed,” Orrick said. “Isolde and I will take him back to Dunshee Castle to be with the other English soldiers.”

“And what will happen to Rosalyn?” Keiran asked, hoping Alastair would allow her to stay. “She still needs to heal, and it is impossible for her to continue towards her betrothed and survive.”

“She can stay if she likes, Keiran. But she did not seem the kind of woman who would do well without a purpose for long,” Alastair said.

Keiran knew all too well what it felt like to not have a purpose. He would help her find one. He did not have to see into the future to know that if she left, death surely awaited her, especially in the arms of Lieutenant James Long.