Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

I n the forest world, time didn't pass as it did on the other side of the trees, so Julianne had no idea how long she had been there, or when she had arrived. The last thing she remembered was trying to go back to Shaw on the burning Viking boat. That she was stuck here instead didn't bother her too much; very little did in this place. Maybe her life with the Scotts and then the MacMars had been dreams of the outside world. Klee never explained these things too well to her.

The immortal being who had saved her life came to join her, looking like the sweet old lady she pretended to be on the other side. "Why are you weeping again, my child?"

"Why did you show me what was going to happen to us? What does any of it matter now?" Julianne said, blinking away her tears as she turned away from the window in the tree. Watching herself rescue the last of the boys from the raider's boat before she went back to die with her lover had made her wish she could escape this rotten fate of theirs. "Shaw and me, we're dead. Again. This sucks."

"Not yet, Jorunn. You are dreaming again, but I am the dream, and you are on the other side." Klee waved her hand in the air, and an image of the longboat appeared. The chieftain stood on the railing, his body blackened, his hair burned off. As he held her limp body in his burned arms his ink spilled onto her as if it had turned liquid.

"Oh, Buster must be so upset." She grimaced. "He'll probably try to stop Shaw from burning up with me on that boat, right?"

"This man and his beast love you as they have in every time and life you've shared," her aunt said softly. "They will not permit you to burn."

"If you're like the Fae, then can you do something this time?" Julianne pointed at the window to the mortal realm. "Save him and Buster. I don't care about me. Just save them."

"So like your mother. Your lover's spirit has the power to save as well as kill." Klee turned and hugged her. "The prince's enchantment has granted you one final gift as well. Be happy, my sweet girl."

Confused again, Julianne held tightly to her aunt, and then fell into a long, dark tunnel that spun up, down and around as if it were some giant baton. She came out the other end as Shaw handed her to someone reaching up for her.

"Hold fast, Brother," Fletcher said as he handed her off to Nyall.

The MacMar and the Selseus surrounded the sinking ship, the clan in smaller boats and the immortal aquatics in the water. In another moment Shaw would be sucked under the waves in the still-burning wreckage. Julianne ignored her injuries as she found her footing in the clan's boat, and stood up to fling out her arms.

"Buster," she called out. "Now you need to choose life, buddy, and save us. Me and Shaw and the guys. Right now."

The ring on her finger glowed with blue and green lights, but it was a shining black magic that spun around the burning ship. It seized all the clansmen around her, and plucked Shaw from the deck before everything around them disappeared. A moment later she was standing on the white-sand shore of Caladh, with dozens of clansmen sprawled around her.

Julianne pressed a hand against the ink under her breast. "Good work, dude."

"My lady?"

She looked over at her lover, who stared at her as if he'd never before seen her, and walked over to help him up. "Hey, Chief. That was not much fun, but at least we saved the kids and your bros." Gently she put her hand on his tattooed arm, but the moment she touched him the soot fell away, exposing his inked skin. "So, looks like burns aren't a problem for a half-Fae immortal. I'm glad, because you were looking a little well-done, my man."

Shaw grabbed her and hauled her up against his soot-streaked chest, holding her so tightly she couldn't breathe. Just as quickly he released her, and took hold of her hands.

"Will you stay with me?" he asked, his voice rasping the words. "For I cannae live without you, my lass. Nor can the other. We love you so."

"Same for me." She ran her hand down his marked arm. "Only you can't change your mind when things get tough, or I'm annoying, or your Big Bad makes you crazy. You really have to marry me, and stay with me and Buster no matter what. Okay?"

Shaw kissed her, and she didn't even mind the charcoal taste of that, because in the middle of the kiss he began saying yes, whispering it against her lips and then laughing it out as he spun her around, before finally throwing his head back and shouting it to the skies.

No one dared go near the cabin as they sailed south to the mainland. After seeing the burning longboat sink, Derdrui had retreated there, and from the thudding and crashing sounds that followed she was taking out her ire on the furnishings. Speal sent a wordless surge of affection to her sisters, who shifted back into their customary forms and went about their duties. After some hours passed Mace brought food and drink to each before she came to the bow with a jug of cider and a handful of oatcakes.

"'Tisnae much, but 'twill keep you from swooning before we reach the meeting place." A resounding bang from the cabin made her wince. "If we live so long."

"Think naught of such." To please her sister she took a sip from the jug, and a bite of one oatcake. The cider tasted sour, and the cake had gone stale. "Remember you that banquet we attended after the defeat of the Romans?"

"Aye, such a feast." Mace sighed with longing. "That roast boar stuffed with pheasant I shall never forget. Nor the clootie dumplings with spiced currants and pears. Nor shall I ever again taste such delights."

Speal wondered if the enchantress would slay them before they reached the meeting place, or would force them to continue on in perpetual servitude, sickening themselves by eating stores so old even swine would not touch them. This time none of her sisters had died while clashing with the MacMar's woman, but the next time they might not be so lucky. How many more had to die before their sovereign took her vengeance? Why did they fight these battles when the clan had done nothing to the Cait Sith?

She knew Derdrui could hear her thoughts now, but made no effort to conceal or divert them. Perhaps she wished to die, or she could not bear living like this any longer.

"If I dinnae come out before sunset, you must take my place." She pushed the jug and the remaining cakes into Mace's hands, and went into the cabin.

The inside had been reduced to a shambles, as Derdrui had smashed every stick of furniture, shattered every lamp and pot, and even torn to shreds the bed linens and curtains. The sheer waste caused by the destruction left Speal speechless.

"How could you permit that overlarge whore to put hands on me?" the enchantress demanded, swaying on her feet. "Why did you stand there and watch when she tried to drop me in the sea?"

Always it was about her, and how the Cait Sith had failed her.

"You know we cannot swim," Speal reminded her. "And you've never told us that water, 'tis your weakness."

"It is not my weakness," Derdrui screamed, so loudly that the cabin walls shook.

"Fae magic protected that changeling," she reminded her. "Even so, you couldnae fight her, pished as you've been. Torment and end me if you wish to soothe your pride, but 'twillnae change your loss. We need help."

"How long will it be before we reach the mainland?" the enchantress demanded, her chest heaving.

Speal picked up a torn robe and shook it out before wrapping the remains of it around Derdrui. "We shall arrive at the meeting place by midnight."

"They must all die for the insults I've endured at their hands." Her long fingers curled over Speal's big hands. "Promise me, and I shall give you and your sisters what you desire: your freedom."

She wanted to leave her with Fiacail and sail for Francia, and spend the rest of the season finding a safe place for them to replace mortals and live their simple lives. Perhaps they could find a small village that would suit them. Yet as she looked into her sovereign's eyes, she knew that if she abandoned her now Derdrui would forever hold a grudge against the Cait Sith, just as she did the sons of Mar.

"They shall all die for their offenses, my princess," Speal finally said. "I give you my word."

A few days after the encounter with the Viking raiders and Derdrui, the clan held a feast to celebrate Shaw and Julianne's victory. In the great hall Duncan sat in one corner watching his brothers dancing with their female vassals. Everyone had made peace with Shaw's return to serving as Connal's second, it seemed, especially after the laird had put out the word that the chieftain's dark magic would now protect the clan. It had taken a castaway from the future to bring them all to this moment, and yet part of him still resented the fact that he would never be able to heal his brother.

"You look in a mood," Fletcher said as he thumped a mug of whisky onto the table in front of him. "Drink. 'Twill do away with your troubles for the night."

"Aye, until the morning, when I wake with my head pounding." He eyed the seneschal, who seemed to be well on his way to being pished. "Where's your lady wife?"

"Gone cross the island to visit Meg at the Mackay farm. She's a notion teach all the females on the island how they may make patterns and such." Fletcher sighed. "She vowed return in time for the wedding. Until then I shallnae sleep well without whiskey. Drink, Brother."

"Cease your swilling, and come to the infirmary before you seek your bed. I shall give you a slumbering tincture." He rose and touched the seneschal's shoulder before he made his way out of the great hall and into the kitchen gardens.

Julianne sat cross-legged on one of the curving paths, her long frame draped in a filmy green silk gown. One of the maids had woven her pale hair into an intricate plait studded with small pink roses. As she tipped her head back to smile up at him, Duncan wondered if he would ever know the kind of love his four brothers had found with their ladies from the future.

"Hey, Doc." She grinned. "Want to sit and watch the garden grow with me?"

"You should be dancing with Shaw," he chided as he lowered himself down on the slate. While undignified, it presented a novel view of the gardens, which seemed to be alive with little yellow-green lights.

"I'd rather watch the glow-worms." She reached out her hand, and on the back of her finger a long-bodied brown insect landed, crawling to the tip as it wriggled its illuminated tail. "One of the villagers said they're the wandering souls of your cursed melia. Those dudes get seriously creepy when they're sloshed, you know." She gave him a sideways look. "I'm not hurt, if you're worried."

He shook his head. "Shaw spoke to me of your final dream, and the immortal being who took you to the forest world."

Julianne rested her chin on her arms. "My aunt Klee never told me what she was, but I know she's really old."

"I agree with you. In my sire's archives there's a scroll about an ancient woodland goddess named Chlíodhna. She and her kind disdained mortals and Fae. It seemed they wished but plant their great forests across the world. Some believe the melia later discovered their trees, and made such their own. He wished he could tell her more, but Prince Mar had only written a few lines about her. "Judging by how she protected you, I believe them a kindly race of immortals."

"Aunt Klee was—is—really nice." Her cheeks dimpled. "She's somewhere in the twenty-first century right now, planting more forests. Maybe even protecting little kids." Her gaze shifted past him. "Uh-oh. Hide the ladies, here comes Satan."

"You shallnae call me such names, my woman." Shaw bent down and lifted Julianne up into his arms. "Forgive us, brother, we're weary and wish seek our bed."

"Maybe you're tired," Julianne said as she tucked her hands around his neck. "I'm full of energy. How about we go visit Japan again? The monk said we could come back whenever we want…"

As Shaw carried his lover off, Duncan pushed himself to his feet. Standing among the veg and herbs, he looked up at the night sky and tried again not to mind being alone. He rarely slept well himself, especially of late. He had dreaded seeing the laird pushed to the point of slaying his chieftain rather than continuing to risk permitting him among the clan. Shaw also had seemed perilously close to ending himself. Now it appeared all was right with the clan and their world, at least until the enchantress came to slay them all.

Derdrui would not rest until she found Caladh, that much he knew.

He took the pendant from his pocket that Julianne had brought him, and smiled a little as the moonlight made the strange red gem glow. He grew certain that the bauble had been created by some Fae desiring to seduce a mortal, for it had that sensual quality. Once placed about a throat it would likely act as a kind of slave collar, and bind the mortal to the immortal seducer. He needed to lock it away in his cabinet, as he had promised Julianne he would. Yet something about it intrigued him, and he wondered if it might somehow help him protect the clan.

Something trilled like a string of bells, and it seemed to be coming from the pendant.

On the surface of the red gem a woman's heart-shaped face appeared. She had the loveliest lips he'd ever seen, and kindness warming her large, lustrous eyes. Upon her head she'd piled gleaming curls like a crown. Pearls encircled her swanlike neck, and seemed to drip from her ears. She wore a gown that resembled mist made into fabric, on which thousands of tiny crystals winked. Because she was not real he rubbed his thumb over the image, and detected something like the softness of skin against his flesh.

Don't worry, I'll be there soon, the woman said into a flat rectangular device she held to her cheek. I just need to fix my face.

"Your face, 'tis quite lovely as 'tis," Duncan murmured.

The woman went still, leaning forward as if to peer at him. Thank you. Are you the magic mirror on the wall? Because I know I'm not the fairest of them all.

She spoke as if she could see him, and her laughter came through the gem and seemed to caress him. Whatever enchantment he'd triggered, it warmed him like no other.

"I'm no mirror, my lady, only a healer from afar." He saw her reaching out toward him. "I dinnae reckon we shall ever meet."

When she touched the inside of the pendant, he brushed the gem again with his fingertip. In that moment a shiver like trembling danced across his skin, which surely he imagined.

Are you sure we can't find each other? she asked. I think I already have a crush on you.

Of all the men in the clan, Duncan knew himself to be the most pathetic, and least desirable. "I'm no' a fair prospect, my lady."

Her expression grew softer. I know how that is. All I have to offer is a little beauty, which will fade in a few years, and outrageous wealth, which turns everyone into snakes. I should just give it all away and live in a cottage somewhere. She blinked a few times. Want to join me?

"If only I could." His own eyes stung.

My name is Nicole Fairburn, if you change your mind. She looked almost hopeful now. What should I call you?

Before Duncan could tell her he saw someone clout the woman from behind, causing her to fall forward. A stout male with a vicious expression caught the beauty before she collapsed onto the floor. The gem followed the attacker as he dragged her out of a door to a railing, where he lifted her up and slung her over. Her body fell down, landing with a splash into the sea.

The swift violence of the attack stunned Duncan, and he hurried over to the curtain wall, climbing up the stairs until he could see out into the bay. The full moon illuminated the calm waters, showing no disturbance.

"Nicole, where are you?" Was he shouting for her? He was shouting. He'd finally snapped, and he didn't care. He rushed toward the cliff stairs, determined to descend to the bay and search the waters.

Something hit him from behind, hurtling Duncan over the edge of the cliff. He wheeled his arms and legs, trying to grab an outcropping on the way down, but he was too far out. Then he smashed into a dune, sending huge jets of sand into the air. When he staggered to his feet and looked up, he saw a shadowy figure run away from the cliff's edge. The flutter of skirts told him his attacker had been a female, but it was the moonlight falling on her fiery red hair that revealed who she was.

"Meg?" he murmured before he sank into darkness.

THE END