Chapter 15

Days stretched out into weeks as Caroline made a home for herself in the islet cottage, working in the mornings to collect shellfish, which she now used as barter with both Brochan and some of the local villagers. The clan's healer, Duncan, asked her to bring to him any unusual objects she found in the shallows or on shore, as long as she didn't touch them with her bare hands. She learned that he collected debris that the island apparently attracted, which he claimed were Fae-enchanted. Since she still wore the time-traveling ring, which despite her best efforts would not come off her finger, she always handled them with gloves on.

"What do you do with this junk?" she asked him after delivering seven etched stones she'd found glowing in the dark in a tide pool.

"I guard them from falling into the hands of our vassals," Duncan said as he opened a black cabinet, and put the stones in a carved wooden box that briefly lit up from inside. "As I warned you, some may endanger mortals."

She watched him close and lock the cabinet. "If they're all magic, don't you think it's a bad idea to keep them all together in one place? Couldn't they trigger each other, or something like that?"

He shook his head. "The cabinet belonged to my sire. He enchanted it to contain and null anything bespelled when he discovered that Caladh attracts objects created by the Fae. We've no' discussed payment for your work. What may I offer you?"

Caroline didn't need anything healed, and she was already growing her own herbs in the cottage garden. "For now I could use some medical advice, and maybe your help, but only if it stays between us."

"Aye, 'twill," Duncan told her.

She went over and closed the door to the infirmary before she asked, "If a mortal woman has sex with an aquatic, can he get her pregnant?"

"Mortal females dinnae take Finfolk lovers." He sat down on the stool by his work table. "Do you now?"

Caroline considered deflecting that, but if she wanted help she had to level with someone. She also had heard from both Lark and Brochan that all the clan's vassals trusted Duncan completely.

"Yes, but we haven't had traditional sex yet. The kind of sex that makes a girl pregnant," she added to clarify.

Duncan thought for a moment. "'Tis never been such a pairing on Caladh, for the Finfolk ever transform mortal females before they mate with them. Even then, 'tis difficult for their males, siring more than one bairn. Yet since the males, they're no' changed by transformation, then aye, I should reckon 'tis likely." He met her gaze. "Do you wish bear your lover's bairn?"

"Absolutely not." She grimaced. "Sorry. I like kids, as long as they belong to someone else. I never intended to be a mother, and besides, childbirth is a much bigger risk in this time. Do you have anything I could use to prevent a pregnancy?"

"I've some herbs that bring on a female's moon time, and end any bairn she carries. Ever they're dangerous for the woman." He studied her face. "I cannae advise you wed your lover, for Merrick shall expect him transform you and you bear him a son. 'Tis best refrain then from such that should make you conceive, as you've done."

"Okay. I appreciate the advice. Let's call it payment for what I've brought you so far." Caroline nodded toward the cabinet. "As for future deliveries, maybe you could teach me how to make some simple medicines for my own use? Remedies for headaches, cleaning cuts, that sort of thing? It's not always convenient for me to come over to the castle to see you."

"Of course. Please ken I shall aid you, whatever you wish do. None but you and I shall ken what we do or speak of here." The healer offered her his hand. "You've my word."

Caroline wished there had been more men like him in her time as she clasped his hand. "Thank you."

Jamaran came in the afternoons to spend an hour with her in the water on the far side of the islet, where he showed her how to fight, Selseus-style. Although she suspected she'd never be able to swim as fast or as fluidly as the commander, she quickly learned how to disable one of the aquatics, and the three places on their bodies that would cause them to immediately bleed out and die. Because they weren't human they had some odd vulnerabilities, and their major arteries were also located in different spots.

"You don't have the same anatomy as the Selseus, do you?" she asked as she waded out of the shallows with him.

"I share their ability to breathe water, and I dinnae age or suffer sickness, but my body, 'tis yet the same as mortals," he admitted. "So you may cut me behind my knee, and I shall but limp on land until I heal."

"I'd never try to hurt you." She reached out and took hold of his hand. "But sometimes I think I do anyway."

"'Tis never you, my lady." He raised her fingers to his lips to kiss them. "As you've said, we're good."

After sunset Caroline also spent time alone with Nyall in the little meadow on the east side of the islet, where he cleared a large circle on the ground and placed torches on poles around the perimeter. There he gave her a crash course in fighting, starting with hand-to-hand and progressing to knife work, which they practiced with wooden replicas of blades.

"As you're a female you've the advantage," he told her as they circled each other. "Men dinnae expect women shall fight as we do, and most taunt and toy with them. 'Tis best, permitting them believe such until they lower their guard enough for you to strike."

Before he finished speaking Caroline spun around him and pressed her blade tip against his spine. "One deep jab here, and even an immortal will be paralyzed, right?"

"Aye, but 'tis just as likely your blade shall strike bone." He pulled her around and repositioned her practice blade to press between his thigh and his genitals. "All males treasure their baws. When you're grappling, slice inward here if you wish watch them fall."

"The guy or his balls?" she joked.

"With your strong arm, both." Nyall tugged her up against him and clamped his forearm around her to hold her there. "Now, show me where else you may strike when so close."

"Sorry, I'm a little distracted right now." She deliberately dropped her blade on the ground and pressed her hand against the bulge of his erection. "My, my. You seem to have a problem, Captain. Let me take care of that for you."

He chuckled and gently pushed her back. "After we practice, you shameless wench."

The nights Caroline shared with her men only happened a few times a week, and Jamaran could never stay until dawn. What they did together became the most exciting secret she'd ever kept, and made the last of her anger disappear. Sometimes Nyall would show up first, and make love to her until Jamaran arrived. Now and then the commander would finish his duties first, and kiss and pet her until she was so wild she practically jumped on the captain when he showed up. They tried every position, and even tried to invent a few, which sometimes caused them to collapse in a helpless heap of laughter when it didn't work out. More often than not they were able to give each other so much pleasure that she knew it had changed all three of their lives.

The only cloud hovering over Caroline's happiness proved to be Shaw, who returned to the stronghold a few days after her men had rescued her from the net trap. She glimpsed him walking the bay's shore now and then, and once while she was delivering some oysters to Brochan she saw him walking toward the kitchens. He abruptly changed direction, so he must have seen her, too. She took care to stay away from Dun Ard for a few days after that. Although he"d done nothing to make her think he'd come after her, he still creeped her out, and she kept waiting for him to make a move.

Eventually Shaw did, but not in the way she'd expected.

When she didn't have anything else to do Caroline would spend an hour gathering Fae junk for Duncan. Being out in the open as she walked the beaches seemed safe enough, and the curious things she found made it like a scavenger hunt. Most of the debris she picked up were broken bits and pieces of crystal, wood or stone. When she spotted a solid gold sphere about the size of a baseball half-buried in the sand she expected it to be broken.

As she approached the object she saw it had a swirl of beautiful emerald-green streaks on the top, which lit up as she got closer. She'd already learned from the healer that anything that glowed in proximity to her still contained Fae magic. Since she didn't want to get spell-zapped, she used a wooden scoop that she carried on her hunts to remove it from the sand, which was when she saw it looked fully intact.

"If you're real gold, Duncan and I may have to strike a new deal," she said as she put it in a hemp sack before she added it to her gathering bag. Although she hadn't touched it, her whole bag took on a green glow, as if the thing was trying to burn its way out of the sacking. "Unless you're going to blow my face off now."

A dark blur whirled around her, and then Shaw was there, shoving his inked arm into her bag. Without a word he removed the sphere, which was now practically shooting green laser beams out of its ends, and crushed it in his hand.

"What are you doing?" Caroline stumbled back from him, cringing as he looked at her with very dark gray eyes.

"Saving your life, Mistress." Shaw transferred the gold ball to his other hand, and opened his fingers to reveal the badly-dented sphere, which he had cracked in half. The inside looked hollow. "'Twas an imp egg enchanted by the melia. If you'd released what they oft keep inside, 'twould eat you alive. Fortunately 'twas an empty shell."

She folded her arms. "Valerie said all the melia on the island turned themselves to stone."

"No' on the mainland. A storm likely swept the egg from one of their woodlands into a river that emptied at sea." Shaw dropped the pieces of broken sphere back into her bag, and when he looked at her again his eyes were a smoky gray. He also looked just like any other MacMar, just with extra handsomeness. "I didnae intend frighten you. Dinnae punch me."

"Well, you did scare me, but you also saved my life, so thank you." She wasn't entirely sure she believed his story, but she wanted to put an end to the hostilities, so she held out her hand. "Could you not look like you want to rip off my head from now on? That still bugs me."

"I'd rather no' touch you with that hand, Mistress." He glanced down at his tattooed arm, frowning. "I may use the other, if you'll vow you shallnae run from me."

"With the way you move, I seriously doubt I could get away, but sure." Gingerly she took hold of his other hand, watching his ink on the opposite arm as she did. "Looks like nothing is going to twitch this time." He was also being careful to hold her hand gently. "What do you think?"

Shaw took in a deep breath, and then sighed and released her. "'Twould seem you've changed since you came to Caladh."

Had she? That startled Caroline.

"I guess some stuff is different. I've decided to stay here in your time, and I'm working to earn my living. I also have my own place now." And I'm having lots of sex with your half-brother and his best friend, she added silently. "You seem to be doing okay, too."

"I found some peace during my travels," the chieftain said. "If you dinnae mind me, then I shallnae avoid you hence."

"Sounds good." Because she was curious about exactly what he'd done while he was away, she asked, "Want to help me collect some Fae junk for your healer?"

"I thank you for offering. Someone else wishes the privilege of your company, I reckon," he said, nodding toward Jamaran, who had emerged from the waves and stood in the surf watching them. "Fair day, Commander."

"Chieftain." He came up to stand beside Caroline. "You're well?"

"As you see." Shaw bowed, and then walked up to the trail leading to the forest, where he disappeared into the trees.

"That was interesting." She noticed Jamaran sliding a blade into the sheath he wore strapped on his forearm. "Whoa. Were you hiding that dagger behind your back?"

"Aye." He looked all over her, as if expecting to see her bleeding somewhere. "Why should you speak with Shaw? You cannae trust him near you."

"Apparently whatever he didn't like about me is no longer an issue. Seems he's settled down. He said I've changed, too." She thought her knees were wobbling a little, but otherwise she was fine. "I wonder what he meant by that."

Shaw kepthis fist around the castaway imp he had removed from the egg, which had already bitten him once. He hoped his blood would poison the wee monster, but until he found some mistletoe he couldn't make sure. At last he spied a big ball of the greenery hanging low enough for him to use his blade to cut loose a vine, which he wrapped around his fist. When he relaxed his fingers and opened them, the tiny imp sat up on his palm, looking like an eyeless poppet carved from moldy wood. It hissed as it cringed away from the golden berries of the vine.

"Aye, I ken what ends your kind," he told the imp, which bared its tiny black-stained teeth in a fierce scowl. "Only I reckon my other affliction, 'twill do you in swifter once it breeches your spell shield."

The imp's toothy snout widened as it uttered a few high-pitched squeaks, and then flames sprouted from its wooden body and it began to blacken and wither. The mistletoe did the same, and a few moments later all Shaw held was a handful of ash. He curled his fingers over it and walked through the woods until he came to the edge of the valley. Once he'd looked everywhere, he allowed the beast to take him to the Stone Forest.

The blackness of the magic that moved him blotted out the sun, turning everything around him into nightmarish blurs.

Once he reached the melia-cursed woods he stopped, his head spinning slightly as the daylight returned and the island came back into view. Nothing moved here, not even the wind. Everything before him, every tree trunk, branch, leaf and even a wee spider that had been spinning its web had been turned to stone long ago. After the death of his sire, every melia who had dwelled on Caladh had come here to seal themselves inside their beloved trees by casting a death spell over the forest. No one had ever discovered why they would choose to do something so drastic, but their sad tale would likely be told for as long as the forest stood.

Shaw had expected to suffer the need to return to the shore where he could stalk Caroline, but for the first time that hungry desire of the beast to hunt her down did not gnaw at his insides. Since he knew he could not recover in any fashion from what the Pritani had done to him, it meant the darkness no longer considered her a threat.

Why? She looks the same, speaks as she did, and smells of....

He closed his eyes as he remembered how the scent of her had not stirred him at all. He realized now that was because she smelled like the MacMar, and the beast did not consider his kin as prey. Since Shaw knew Caroline had refused to wed anyone, and remained mortal, she could not have been transformed by Lady Joana's ring. That left only one possibility: she'd taken a clansman as her lover. If he'd saturated her with his own scent, that meant they'd been facking often and for hours.

Nyall, of course. Perhaps that was why Connal had wanted him to return, for he expected the captain to go the way of the laird and the seneschal. The thought of his coldest brother with a fiery beauty like Caroline amused him. The poor bastart likely never had a chance to resist.

What still puzzled him was seeing the Finfolk commander rush to shore after spotting him with Caroline. Jamaran never interfered in the clan's affairs, and while he had been courteous to Valerie and Lark, as an unmated male he would never befriend a mortal female.

Unless Caroline's facking him as well. Shaw almost laughed out loud as he recalled the intimate closeness between the lady and the commander. I wonder if Merrick's safe from her allure.

Thankfully he experienced no attraction to the diver, probably because of the lady merrow dreams that had been plaguing him almost every night now. Although they remained the same, they lasted longer, sometimes gripping him for hours before the release of his beast made him jerk awake. He'd also come to know the lovely wench in them as well as if she lived among the Finfolk.

'Tisnae any such creature as a female merrow.

Shaw walked to the very center of the petrified woods, where a simple pedestal covered with moss still stood. Although it had been turned to stone like the trees, the mortals who crossed the valley still left tribute gifts of fruit and nuts around the base of the old altar for the Fae that had once abided here. Nothing had touched them, either. Shaw could not remember ever seeing a living creature draw near the forest since the melia had turned it and themselves to stone. When he poured the ash from his hand onto the pedestal's top, it sank into the weathered surface.

"My apologies." He knew the melia could not hear him, nor see his bow, but he had killed their creation. "Your wee one didnae belong here. May it come your way now."

That little death had roused the beast, as had Shaw making use of its power, but curiously it seemed content now—or perhaps he had grown so numb in his solitude he no longer sensed its voracious pangs. Would he fare better if he left Caladh? He knew of dozens of small islands where he might abide alone. His brothers would not wish him to go, especially Fletcher and Connal, but if this was the only choice he had aside from ending himself, he had to consider it.

"I dinnae oft see you here, Chieftain." Connal approached him almost warily, watching his face until he joined him. "Do you make some homage for our lost Fae cousins?"

"Mistress Parish found an imp egg on the shore. I hatched the thing, and my touch did the rest." Shaw regarded the traces of ash on the pedestal. "'Twasnae its fault."

"We must protect our vassals first." The laird added a sprig of heather to the pedestal from the bouquet he carried. "You spoke with Caroline, then?"

He knew he had, Shaw thought, and understood now why Connal had come to the Stone Forest, which he intensely disliked. He looked beyond him to see Lady Valerie waiting a safe distance away. He frightened them, he knew, but now it seemed they no longer trusted him.

My brother and his wife, they're clever.

"Aye, and we've settled the matter between us. She no longer plagues me." Or his beast, which still bemused him. "She even invited me join her hunt for Duncan's Fae jobby. You and your lady neednae fret."

The laird touched his unmarked arm. "We ken how hard you struggle, Brother. We but wish aid you in the battle. Tell me what more we may do."

Now he understood why Caroline Parish had moved to reside on the islet.

"You dinnae even ken what I fight." Nor had he any intention of telling Connal that. "My lord, if you truly wish help me, then trust in me. I ken what's best, now and in the future."

For a moment the laird looked as if he might press him, but then nodded and glanced back at his wife with a smile. "If I may climb those ridges again without swooning, I must accompany my lady. I shall see you back at Dun Ard, then."

Shaw watched him go, and waved farewell to Lady Valerie before he walked back toward the glen. His hand itched, and when he looked at the bite the imp had inflicted on his palm, he saw his skinwork move down from his arm, swarming over it. The small wound turned black and then vanished.

No one had ever seen how the beast could heal him thus, or they might have parted his head from his shoulders.

"You didnae do the same to my foot when I stepped on that facking urchin," Shaw muttered. "Aye, I'll even wager you kept that wound raw for weeks so you might punish me for starving you."

The ink shifted from his hand back to his arm, where it settled into place and went still.

"I didnae ken you speak with that thing," a cool voice said, and Nyall stepped out from behind a stone oak, sheathing his dagger as he approached him.

Shaw shrugged. "I didnae ken you'd share your wench's bed with your fish friend."

The captain halted, his stern features darkening. "What say you?"

"She's facking you both, Mistress Parish." He noted no surprise over his guess, only anger in Nyall's dark eyes. "Och, mayhap you didnae ken she'd spread her legs for the commander as well as you. Come and drink with–"

Nyall hit him hard enough to knock him down, but then reached to take hold of his tunic and used it to yank him to his feet. "Did you touch her? Did that thing on your arm?"

Any other time Shaw would have fled from the fight his brother wanted, but he suspected the captain needed a brawl. "I stopped her from opening an imp egg and saved her life, you facking eejit. I cannae claim I'll do the same for you if you dinnae get your hands off me."

"You and your talk of endless killing, and yet you'd terrify a woman whose done naught but try and keep you away." Nyall shoved him away. "You're no' a man. You're a coward and a brute."

Finally he understood.

"You're in love with her. In love with a wench who'd near broke my jaw before I could greet her once. Who's even now likely facking your best friend behind your back." He shook his head. "Fool."

Thunder boomed over their heads as Nyall drew back his fist, and then a bolt of lightning came down, striking the ground between them.