Chapter 7

The first thing she noticed about it was that it was out in the Loch — for a moment, she was almost convinced the castle itself was rising out of the water, until she realized that it was positioned on a little island not far from the edge of the water. Not a true island, though. A narrow land bridge connected that little body of land to the mainland, with a great gate and a thick stone wall blocking off access. It looked like a formidable fortress — she wouldnt have liked an invaders chances of getting through those walls if the inhabitants didnt want them to.

Shed seen castles before, of course — sometimes cartoonish tourist attractions like the Disney castle shed visited as a child, some in picture books, occasionally photos of crumbling European ruins. For one of her earliest patients, medieval weaponry was a special interest, so shed ended up hearing quite a bit about what kind of siege weapons were required to breach the walls of a castle… she could just imagine that young girl having the absolute time of her life if she were in Ivys shoes right now. But all the pictures that little girl had shown her were of ruins… and this castle looked almost new, its walls strong and uncompromised by the wear and tear of time. There were lights glowing in a few of the windows, along with some larger ones along the walls, and she realized with a jolt that these were the very lights shed been walking toward as she trekked along the lake shore.

Well, one way or another, this was where shed been trying to get. This had been the plan all along — head into this place, find someone who knew where she was, get some help. Having met Edward already put her ahead of the game… though the deeply confusing things hed told her didnt exactly put her mind at ease. Medieval Scotland? Really? She straightened her back as the two of them walked toward the narrow land bridge that connected the castles island to the mainland, trying not to think about the fact that she hadnt yet seen a single piece of evidence to contradict his claims…

Nor did she when they reached the great iron gate. Not that she was any kind of expert, but she certainly didnt see any glaring historical anachronisms in the attire of the men atop the wall, who peered down curiously at Ivy and Edward even as they set about raising the gate to admit them. The castles courtyard was laid with the same dark stone as the castle itself was composed of, and she felt her boots slip a little on the smooth surface. Edward steadied her, his hand on her arm sending a pleasant warmth through her. She must have been colder than she thought… though it wasnt a shiver of cold that went through her at the quick smile the tall man flashed her. The courtyard was much better lit than the dark road, and she could make out his features more clearly here. Sharp blue eyes, a neatly trimmed brown beard, and dark brown hair, tousled just a little by the wind. Yes, he was a good-looking guy… it wasnt just the accent, she thought, hiding a grin.

Edward led her up the stone steps to the castles great wooden doors, and she followed him through, marveling a little at how willing her mind was to accept the bizarre surroundings. Perhaps waking up in a lake and nearly being assassinated by a horse had set her bar for strange happenings rather high, but looking around the entrance hall of the castle, she felt almost… at home. There were beautiful tapestries hung on each wall, lit by flickering torchlight, and she lingered as she took them in… only to hear Edward clear his throat impatiently. He was standing by another large pair of doors, and she moved across to join him, realizing as she did that, she wasnt quite sure what they were actually doing here.

Whats the plan, then? she asked. Isnt everyone asleep?

I thought that might be the case, Edward said, nodding to the half-open door beside him. But were in luck — seems the Laird and his guests havent been to bed yet. Sure enough, she could hear the sound of voices through the door — many of them raised and impatient.

They sound busy, she said, frowning a little. The room seemed too echoey to allow her to make out what was actually being said, but she knew an argument when she heard one. Should we interrupt?

Lass, believe me when I say your arrival will be a welcome distraction. Edward looked tired as he rubbed at his forehead, and she felt curiosity stir. But thats a Clan matter, nothing you need pay any mind to at all. Come with me — Ill introduce you to the Laird.

Great. Before you do — whats a Laird?

That won her a quick smile. Laird Donal is the leader of the Sept of Clan Grant. His wife Anna was the first of the, uh… travelers, who arrived here in the manner with which youre most familiar.

She nodded thoughtfully, reaching up to touch her once neatly braided hair and wrinkling her nose at the mess she discovered. Through the lake, you mean?

Another small smile. Thats right.

And is that him yelling? she asked, feeling a flicker of apprehension as a loud, booming voice echoed through the door.

Edward shook his head. Thats Chieftain Gilroy, of the Gilroy Sept — theyre visiting us. A guest of the Keep, a close ally to Clan Grant… and my cousin, actually. Im a Grant in name and allegiance, though, he added firmly.

You make it sound as if the families are at war.

Not quite. He shook his head firmly. But you neednt worry yourself about that ugly matter, as I said. There — that sounds like a lull. Lets go. With one last slightly strained smile, Edward pushed the doors open firmly and swept into the hall beyond. Ivy followed hurriedly, trying not to let her jaw drop at what she saw. This hall was much larger than even the rather impressive entrance hall theyd walked through. It was clearly designed to hold at least a hundred people at a time, full of long wooden tables that would each seat a dozen men. A dining hall, she realized… though at the moment, the only populated table was at the far end of the room, where a dozen or so men and women were looking up from whatever loud conversation she and Edward had half-overheard from outside the hall.

If this was some kind of prank, Ivy thought faintly, theyd really gone all-out. Even the tableware looked medieval, and she resisted the urge to linger as they walked past table after table, wanting to inspect each piece for some tell-tale sign of contemporary manufacture. Why was her intuition whispering that she wasnt going to find any such evidence? Why was her usually spot-on gut instinct telling her to stop looking for holes in Edwards story, to start believing what hed said and working on understanding her new reality?

Laird Donal, Chieftain Gilroy, Edward said, his voice suddenly taking on a formal tone that made her unconsciously straighten her spine. It felt like being called before the school principal, all of a sudden. My apologies for interrupting your conversation.

Not to worry, cousin, said one of the men at the table, a bear-like man with a dark, curly beard that didnt quite hide the scowl on his face. The conversation wasnt getting us anywhere. Might as well be interrupted.

I must agree, said the blond man sitting opposite, looking tired as he rubbed his forehead. He looked younger than the first man whod spoken, with clear gray eyes and a clean-shaven face — maybe his late twenties, Ivy guessed.

First time for everything, the dark-haired man said grimly. Well, cousin? Did you find anything on your search? His gray eyes shifted curiously to Ivy, who shifted awkwardly in her place. And who might this be?

Chieftain, Laird — this is Ivy Jones, who I found fighting off a Kelpie by the Loch. Ivy — may I introduce Chieftain Brian Gilroy and Laird Donal Grant?

The blond man — the Laird, Ivy noted — was looking at her intently, the vivid recognition on his features dispelling a lot of the exhaustion that had been there before. The Chieftain, by contrast, looked a little confused.

Edward, we sent you in search of the Fae who stole our boy and left a Changeling in his place?—

— which, again, we have no reason to believe is what happened— broke in another man at the table, an impatient look on his face.

— not, Brian continued, his voice rising effortlessly to drown out his fellow, to collect strange women from the lake. My apologies, my lady.

But Laird Donal was on his feet. Miss Jones, was it?

Thats me, she said, feeling oddly shy as she stepped forward. Nice to meet you all. Sorry to interrupt the conversation you were having.

Something strange was happening. As shed spoken, the men and women at the table had exchanged looks. Those sitting on Brians side looked nonplussed… but those sitting beside the Laird were wearing the same expression of recognition and pleasant surprise that he was. Was it the accent that had given her away? She was the only one here who didnt sound Scottish, after all…

Welcome to Clan Grant, the Laird said, a warm smile touching his handsome features. Im sure youre wondering whats going on, and I assure you that all your questions will be answered in time. But for now, we ought to organize a room for our guest?—

Why dont I see to that, Donal?

Ivy blinked. If she didnt know any better, shed have sworn the short, dark-haired woman at the Lairds side had just spoken with an American accent.

You and the Chieftain can continue your discussion while we ladies get our guest settled.

The Laird nodded his agreement… though Ivy got the distinct impression that the keen-eyed woman whod spoken wasnt exactly asking permission. My wife, Anna Grant, Donal told Ivy, gesturing to the woman, who flashed Ivy a warm smile. Youll be in capable hands with her.

Elena? Nancy? Why dont you join us?

Two more women rose from their seats and hurried down from the raised table to join Anna, and Ivy hid a smile at the looks of quiet relief on their faces. It seemed they werent finding the conversation especially stimulating. All three of the women were wearing beautiful gowns that swept the flagstones beneath their feet… Ivy was beginning to give up on the prospect of finding any anachronisms that might give the game away. This wasnt a game, was it? The only anachronism here, as far as she could tell… was her.