Chapter 2

Chapter Two

S haw swam alongside the woman who had come back in time with him, still confused by why that had occurred. An hour past he'd been wandering the shores of the empty island where he'd exiled himself, trying to decide if it was time to die. In the fading light of sunset he had spied the silver and green bauble rolling in the surf. Because that particular ring had belonged to his brother's first wife, and had been enchanted by his sire to save those in danger, he decided to retrieve it. If nothing else, it would be found with his blackened bones when the clan came to look for him.

The moment he'd plucked the ring from the water his eyes had filled with blue and green light of a triggered Fae enchantment.

A heartbeat later he'd been dropped into a cold, merciless vortex that had spat him out in a place of strange mountains and rocky shores that he did not recognize. The iciness of the sea shocked him as much as his view of the unfamiliar coast. Then a long-limbed, beautiful fair female who appeared naked but for a strange red chemise had run into the ocean and come for him. They had both become victims of the savage offshore currents, and Shaw had made his impossible wish.

End me, only permit her live.

Perhaps his entreaty had stirred the magic that resided in Lady Joana's ring, or Prince Mar's water magic. Something not of the mortal realm had returned him to his home, and saved his brave, beautiful rescuer from drowning by sending her with him.

"You okay, dude?" she asked

Shaw nodded, although agreeing was far from truth. His mouth still throbbed from the first, passionate kiss she'd bestowed on him. It had tasted nothing of desperation and everything warm and honeyed, the caress of a woman yearning for him behind her cheerful smile. In response his heart yet seemed determined to pound its way out of his chest. Never had any female bestowed such affection on him, or with such devastating effect. Had traveling through time turned him back into a lad? Why would she present him with such a gift? Why had she called him her man, for that matter?

Dinnae reckon she's come so she may cure you, his sullen heart muttered. You shall forever remain cursed.

For now he could take pleasure in her generous compassion which, had she known what he truly was, she would never have lavished on him. Being so close to her made him wonder why the men of her time had left her wholly unguarded. The fact that the lady wore that scandalously brief scarlet garment that barely covered her torso and strange writing in white that rose and fell across her bountiful chebs seemed not to concern her in the slightest degree. To keep the rest of the clan from falling on their faces Shaw would have to immediately borrow a tartan to wrap around her.

The thought of returning to the clan's stronghold made his gut clench. He'd fled the island a week past, and after what he'd done to the Cait Sith, the clan's shape-shifting enemy, he'd decided to never again return.

The woman reached the shallows before he did, but when she found her footing she turned and waited for him to join her rather than going ashore. She had strange eyes, large and unusual, the color of burnished bronze coins inlaid with pale sapphire. His confusion returned as he recalled the lady merrow in his dreams, whose eyes had been the same colors. Yet that fish-tailed creature had not been clad in red, nor had she spoken in such a strange accent.

"Sure you're all right, Shaw?" she asked when he came alongside her. "You're looking a little wasted there."

"Aye." He had not realized the woman stood as tall as he. Would there be no end to the wonders she possessed? "Tell me your name, my lady."

"Oh, sorry. Julianne Scott." She slung her arm around him and gave him a quick, squeezing embrace. "You have no idea just how lucky we are, my man. We just beat the Pacific Ocean, which does not like to lose. I don't know where we are, or how we got here, but this totally slaps."

Her sunny happiness tugged at him as if she'd skewered him with an unseen harpoon; he couldn't resist touching her. The moment he put his arm around her the beast inside him stirred and slithered through him, but in a fashion it had never before done. It always wished to kill, but now only seemed interested in beholding her through his eyes.

Beauty. The rusty sound of the dark thing rumbled at the back of his mind like a purr. Such beauty.

"'Tis more you should ken," Shaw said, trying to ignore the quaking in his core. "The ring I placed on your hand brought me to the sea near your home, I reckon. The magic returned you with me to mine." He paused, waiting for her to screech or stalk off. When she did neither he asked, "Didnae you hear me, my lady?"

As she looked around and frowned, Julianne made a vague sound.

"Forgive me." He'd shocked her too much. "I shall tell you more once you've calmed."

"Sure, okay." She tilted her head to one side, squinting, and then her jaw dropped for a moment. "Whoa, is that castle up there for real?"

He looked to where she pointed, and bit back a curse. The stronghold's massive gold-stone presence atop the cliffs would likely send her into hysterics.

"'Tis Dun Ard, my home." Now he would have to explain the time and place to her, a task he did not relish.

A blur of white light whirled around them, and Shaw hauled her up against him, astounded a moment later when the light faded and they stood just outside the stronghold's gates.

Julianne staggered a little as she twisted free of him, her face pale now. "Hey, what the heck did you do?"

"I didnae do thus, my lady." Shaw saw how the guards were watching them, and stepped in front of her before he glowered at them. "Open the gates, eejits."

"We cannae, Chieftain," one of the men said after glancing at the others. "Captain Nyall ordered you to be kept outside the curtain walls, should you return to Caladh."

Nyall feared him enough to issue such orders, which meant he had probably seen him let loose the beast in the battle with the Cait Sith a week past. It made Shaw sick to think he had exposed his secret to the captain, who had been his one true ally in the plans he'd made to ultimately deal with his monstrous affliction.

Mayhap 'tis why Julianne came back with me. My sire bestowed on her some boon so through her he might heal me.

"You sure you live here, Shaw?" Julianne asked, palming some sweat from her brow.

"Aye." He could rip out the portcullis with one hand if he chose, but that would only terrify the woman of his dreams. To one of the guards he said, "Give me a tartan, and we shall wait at the cove."

"You'll do naught." Duncan, the clan's healer, appeared on the other side of the grate. "The chieftain's rescued a lady from the bay. Raise the gate and permit them entry so I may examine them both." As the men hesitated, he added, "In matters regarding the ill and injured, I may bring anyone into the stronghold so I may doctor their wounds. No' even the laird may refuse me."

"Honestly, I rescued him, and we don't… Oh, okay." Julianne gave the guards a sympathetic smile. "It would be nice for us to get checked out. I think my pal Shaw here hit his head when we slammed into some rocks. Since then he's been talking weird, and my brains might be a little scrambled, too."

The gate went up, and Duncan led them into the stronghold's great hall, where he sent several maids to gather what he needed before removing his tartan and offering it to Julianne.

"Thanks." She wrapped the plaid around her hips, tucking it here and there until it became a skirt of sorts. "Gorgeous place you have here, Doc. I've never seen people decorate with axes and spears and stuff. Totally Age of Empires. Ah, where are we, anyway?"

"Caladh, 'tis an island off the coast." Duncan walked around her as he looked all over her body. "Ken you pain anywhere, Mistress?"

"Not really. Just banged myself a little." She pulled back a fold of the tartan to reveal her leg, and patted the side of her thigh. "The currents kind of slammed me into some rocks, but it doesn't hurt much now. I'll have a ginormous bruise for sure tomorrow. So, why did you build a castle here? Wait, is this that Hearst place? I thought that was further down the coast."

As the healer reached out to her Shaw stepped between them. "Dinnae."

"Why?" Duncan straightened and frowned at him. "Attending the lady, 'tis my duty."

Shaw couldn't fathom why he'd prevented the other man from touching Julianne, only that he had to. "I shall care for her however she needs."

"You'd appoint yourself the clan's new healer?" He met his gaze, and then rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. "Very well. She doesnae appear badly hurt, but I wish hear if she begins favoring that leg."

"Yo, she's standing right here, Doc," Julianne said, looking peevish now as she pointed to herself. "You can talk to her."

"Forgive me, Mistress. The chieftain and I oft dinnae agree, which makes me forget my manners." Duncan bowed to her, and then his expression changed to relief as the laird and his wife came in through one of the arches. "Here, our lord and lady shall aid you."

Shaw saw dozens of guards filing into the passages outside the hall, each brandishing a sword or spears. Their tall, red-haired captain then came to stand in front of Connal and Valerie, and for a moment lightning crackled in his dark eyes.

"Uh, Shaw," Julianne murmured. "Who's the sparky-eyed grim dude?"

He's afraid I'll hurt them. Good. Shaw had been trying for weeks to convince Nyall of just how dangerous he was to everyone on the island. At the same time a contrary pang of hurt jabbed his heart. I dinnae wish them fear me.

To his lady, he said, "They shallnae harm you."

His lovely merrow went over to the laird and his wife, and introduced herself before she said, "Sorry to drop in on you like this, but my friend Shaw here and I got caught in a very strange rip current. I don't know how else to explain how we went from the bay to an island, but we're here, so I'm going to blame the ocean."

"That's probably best," Valerie said, tilting her head back. "Wow, you're, uh…"

"Six foot four," Julianne said, grinning. "Only I suck at basketball. Besides swimming like a big fish, I'm good for changing lightbulbs, reaching stuff on top shelves, and rescuing cats from trees. But if you need to solve long division problems? You want someone else."

The laird's wife appeared even more bewildered now. "It's very nice to meet you."

"You're most welcome at Dun Ard, Mistress Scott," Connal told her after exchanging a look with his captain.

Shaw knew his brother had not expected the female to be so friendly, or him to return to the island. Nyall appeared calmer now, and the lightning boon had disappeared from his eyes, but his gaze remained fixed on Shaw.

Good. Do your job and guard my clan.

"I found Lady Joana's ring on the shore a few days after the skirmish with the shifters," Shaw told the laird. "I then landed in the sea in the future. When Mistress Scott attempted save me from drowning, the ring brought her here with me."

"Oh, you're a lifeguard," Valerie said, pressing a hand against her heart. "I couldn't connect… I'm from upstate New York, where we only have lakes. There are two other women here from the states as well. I'm sorry you've come such a long way, but we'll help you."

Julianne nodded, but her expression grew uneasy. "Mrs. MacMar, I can appreciate that you all are busy doing, ah, whatever this castle on the island thing is, but I don't need any help, other than maybe a boat to take me back to Marson Beach."

"We're not anywhere near the U.S. Caladh is an island off the northern coast of Scotland," the laird's wife said gently.

"Scotland. You mean, like the country? That Scotland?" Julianne looked at Shaw, and when he nodded she backstepped toward the nearest arch. "Okay, then. Gee. It's been lit visiting you folks, but I need to find my way home. Take care."

"You can't go home, Ms. Scott," Valerie said. "You've been brought back through time to the twelfth century."

Julianne repeated Valerie's last three words, only without any voice. She suddenly vanished, only to reappear on the far side of the hall, where she stumbled into a table, knocking it over, and stared back at them in horror, the color draining from her face.

"Shaw," Connal barked.

He was already running for her when Julianne's eyes rolled back in her head. He grabbed her before she hit the stone floor, and swung her up into his arms. She looked terribly young with her cheek pressed to his shoulder, her lovely face empty of that vivid liveliness that had captivated him. As she was now he wanted to protect her, and so he would.

"My lady?" She remained limp and unresponsive, but her breathing continued, slow and regular. "Captain, I'll take her to the infirmary, if you'll clear a path for me."

Nyall hesitated, but only for a moment. "Make way for the chieftain."

Julianne heard men talking as she came to, and had enough sense to keep her eyes closed. She had never once fainted in her life, but that was because she lived in an ordinary world. Had lived. Now she was jumping up cliffs and across big rooms in a castle on an island near Scotland, if those people weren't lying through their teeth. She didn't want to believe them; even she wasn't stupid enough to buy such a story. So what had happened to her? Had Mitch finally driven her crazy? Had Shaw dosed her with LDS? Had Mitch? Could LDS do this much to someone's brain?

LSD is the drug, Jules, Eva's voice reminded from her memory. LDS is a religion.

Thanks, Bestie. She had no other answers, so she decided to play possum. Listening to what they said when they thought she was knocked out might tell her exactly how much trouble she was in.

"I'd say she's starved, only Lady Valerie claims 'tis fashionable in the future, appearing malnourished." That voice belonged to the healer, Duncan, and sounded worried. "Her heart's finally slowed, but she needs food, drink and rest. Her leg, 'tis bruised, but no' grievously. As for the vanishing, doubtless 'tis her boon. If 'tis, 'twill happen again, so you must teach her control."

The vanishing meant that thing that had moved her in a heartbeat from one end of the hall to the other. She had done that?

No way.

After twenty-seven years of being tall, pretty but not too bright, Julianne wasn't going to turn into a superhero. Why would a superhero have jump-across-the-room powers? That wouldn't save the world from anything except maybe bullies in a classroom. No, this was more like one of those TV space shows, and how the crew went from the ship to a planet. She couldn't remember the name of what did that, but it made a weird sound and turned them into blobs of sparkles.

That made her even more uneasy. I'm not going to jump to, like, Mars, am I?

A low mutter came from the other side of her, and then Shaw said, "I shall attend her in my chamber."

"I dinnae reckon Nyall shall allow such," the healer said. "Mayhap we should first summon the laird."

"Look at my eyes, Duncan," the chieftain demanded. "See you any cause for concern? No. I'm as I've ever been. I'm taking her."

Two strong arms lifted her against a broad chest, and then Shaw was carrying her out of the room. Julianne remained limp, unsure of why she didn't twist out of this man's arms and run. She wasn't on a Scottish island in the twelfth century, for sure. That seemed almost as likely as her and Shaw being spit out of that killer rip current for no reason. Then there were those voices she'd heard in her head. She hadn't imagined them. Also, why were her breasts hot and tingling and wanting to heave against Shaw's chest again? Couldn't they get over this guy?

"Hey, Chief, wait up."

That voice belonged to an American woman, but she wasn't Valerie. One of the others, then, Julianne decided, and dared to crack one of her eyes open just a tiny bit. A curvy, dark-haired woman with fabulous blonde highlights walked alongside Shaw as if nothing were wrong with him carrying Julianne through a medieval castle. The woman wore a modern wet suit, too, which obviously couldn't have come from the twelfth century—unless she had traveled back through time, too.

In a wet suit?

She then wished, not for the first time, that she was a little smarter. Brainy people didn't end up clueless in situations like this. If Eva were here, she'd probably already be booking a flight back to Cali on a radio she built out of stuff she had in her purse. Plus, she never would have married Mitch.

Quit thinking about Jerk-face. You're in enough trouble right here with Gorgeous Tats.

Shaw stopped in front of an oak door with black iron hinges. "Forgive me, Caroline, but I must attend my lady now."

"No problem." The other woman opened the door for him, and then looked at Julianne and quickly winked. "If you need to talk with me, let Nyall know. I'm helping Jamaran patrol the bay in the afternoons."

The interior of the room smelled of wood smoke and beeswax, and in a few strides Shaw carried her across to a large, soft bed that smelled of him. There he put her down, fussed with a pillow under her head and covered her with a wool blanket. When he finally walked away she looked through her lashes to see what he was doing. He went to a huge fireplace, where he picked up a split piece of wood, which suddenly burst into flame.

That made her freak out of playing possum.

"How the heck did you do that?" Julianne demanded, sitting up and swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

"'Tis my mortal weakness." He tossed the flaming chunk into the hearth and then picked up another, which also caught fire immediately. "I burn any wood I touch. 'Twillnae harm you."

She had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, but even so, every time he touched one of the cut-up logs flames came out of it. So her rescuer had fire powers, fine. As hot as he was, it even made sense. She then looked at the bed, and noted that the frame had been covered in thin sheets of hammered copper. Everything else in the room was either stone, metal or some kind of pottery. He'd been setting wood on fire for a while, then.

"Okay, Chief, so, aside from the blowtorch fingers, what other powers have you got?" Julianne asked. "Can you hurl two people halfway around the world in a few seconds? Jump from the beach to the top of a cliff in a single bound? And tossing me across a room that made me faint, by the way, so don't do that again. That must be why everyone here is afraid of you, too."

"'Twas your doing, no' mine. The ring you wear, 'tis bestowed on you the power so you may travel over distances great and small in but a moment." Shaw turned his back on her. "As for me… 'Tis naught else you need ken, my lady."

His voice went low as he said that last bit, and he reached for a long, sharp-looking knife.

Julianne nearly made it to the door before something oily and black poured through the air, turning into the man she'd rescued. She almost screamed, but when she saw his eyes she sensed that would be the same as stabbing him in the chest. Slowly she lifted her hands and backed away from him.

" That ," Shaw said, his eyes turning from black to dark gray, "'tis mine as well, only I cannae name such a boon."

The words hung in the air, almost throbbing between them. Julianne had always been able to pick up stuff from people, especially when they tried to hide their true vibes. The chieftain hated whatever made him go dark like that. It also made it clear that everything else he'd told her was probably true, and definitely more than she could understand. Why she experienced a wave of awful pity as she looked into his eyes wouldn't be so weird, but her breasts were still acting like it was the fourth of July and they were in charge of the fireworks, which was beyond extra.

Shaw was just as much of a mess as she was. Maybe worse.

How could she think that? Was this her going crazy? Did crazy people even know the moment they lost their minds? Maybe insane stuff seemed normal to them, in which case, she wasn‘t crazy, because this was absolutely, positively insane.

"Stand fast." Shaw crouched down in front of her, and used the knife he'd grabbed to slice through some seaweed that had wrapped around her ankle. He then moved away from her and tossed the stuff into the fire.

Embarrassed now, Julianne imagined cartoon fire engines popping out in her cheeks to put out the burn.

"I'm sorry. Ah, look. This whole place is lit, really, and I'm glad we didn't drown, but I can't stay. I think there's something wrong with part of my body. Most of my body. Like overactive nerves or something." He turned and started walking toward her, so she kept backing up until her shoulders hit a stone wall. "Honestly, Shaw, I'm just a lifeguard. I have to get back to work now."

"You're no' in your world, or your time," he said, stopping a short distance from her. "You've been brought here by my sire's—my father's—magic. Prince Mar possessed dominion over the sea, which made him one of the most powerful Fae in the mortal realm. I swear 'tis truth, my lady."

Julianne didn't want to believe him, especially now that he'd mentioned magic of all things. What she really wanted to do was pull him closer, an impulse that bewildered her as much as the horrible pity that still pulsed inside her and the shooting stars that went on ricocheting inside her chest. Maybe that was because Shaw truly was the best-looking man she'd ever met, and being with him already felt like he was her OTP.

Never not oh no, no, no I can't even. I thought Mitch was my one true pairing. If he finds out about Shaw he'll use it against me in court.

Unless she was supposed to fall for this whole deal.

"Did my ex hire you guys to put a scare in me?" she had to ask. When he frowned, she added, "Mitchell Fumagalli? Big Italian guy? Real jerk?"

"I dinnae ken any such real jerk." He said that slowly, as if unsure of the words. "The ring I gave you returned us together. 'Twas my sire's—my father's—magic."

Shaw seemed to honestly believe in magic. This was just getting better and better.

"Why would your magical dad bring a lifeguard back in time with you? I'm not a superhero or Scottish, and I don't belong in the twelfth century." As soon as she said that she recalled the spooky voices she'd heard in her head just as she and Shaw had been pulled under that last time. "Wait, it's you. I think I'm supposed to guard you ." At his bewildered look she told him what the voices had said to her.

"Why should my sire wish give me a female protector?" Shaw asked, looking as confused as she was now.

"I don't know. Doesn't seem like the people here like you much, so maybe he thought anyone else would be better." She pushed herself off the wall and walked past him to look through the narrow slit that served as a window. "Whoa. We're really not in Cali anymore, Toto."

Outside the castle were forests, valleys and mountains, and not a single sign of civilization anywhere. On the two walls that surrounded Dun Ard, dozens of men stood watch, holding spears and bows as if prepared to shoot anyone who approached the place. There had been a lot of guards surrounding that hall room, too, she recalled—and everyone had looked at Shaw the same way they would a hungry grizzly bear about to start chomping heads. After what she'd seen him just do, she didn't blame them.

That was the other thing that confused her: if he was so dangerous, why wasn't she afraid of him? Was she really so stupid?

He won't hurt me, ever.

Julianne didn't know why she sensed that, only that she did. It wasn't because he was the finest-looking man she'd ever met; she had never put looks over personality. Shaw might be very easy on the eyes, but there was something about him that made her want to hold him close and tell him it would be all right. As if he were a little kid instead of a man. Eva had taught her how to recognize guys who didn't care if they hurt her; those lessons had kept her from going along with everything weird Mitch had wanted all the way back to their honeymoon.

It's just because he's my rescue and he's messed up, she told herself. No one falls in love when they're drowning together.

As for the rest of the situation, she didn't want to believe it, but what else could explain all this weirdness? When that Valerie woman had told her it was the twelfth century she'd panicked, and suddenly transported herself across that ginormous room. Before today she'd just been a strong swimmer and a happy person, but her limits put almost everything else out of her reach. She couldn't even guess the simplest two-hundred-dollar categories on Jeopardy , even if they were about the Kardashians.

You have something better than brains, Eva used to tell her. A big heart.

Body heat warmed the bare skin on her arms and shoulders, but as he came closer Shaw didn't touch her. He simply stood right behind her, and when she glanced back at him she saw he was looking out of the window slit. He smelled a little like the sea, and under that very much a guy. She'd always liked a clean man's scent like his, and seeing his handsome face only a few inches from her own made her insides go like pretzels. She didn't know this dude, but her breasts wanted to do cartwheels and the rest of her had started heating up, like she was about to get busy with him. How the heck was this man making her body go bonkers like this?

I did not just bail on one bad relationship to dive into another. Not even I'm that dumb.

"My apologies for bringing you here," Shaw said, his voice barely above a murmur. "I've no wish keep you away from your time and family. 'Tis only that I've dreamt of you for weeks now. I blink, and you're in my arms, and come home with me."

He had dreams about her? When they'd never met? Had the oil-slick thing made him misplace his marbles?

Until she could figure out a way back to Napa and the future, Julianne would be stuck at Dun Ard. That meant making the best of a bad deal, aka the story of her life since Mom and Dad had died and truly since she'd left Mitch. She couldn't blame Shaw for any of this until she had more facts. She guessed he really was messed up, but she also had to be careful, or her sympathy for him might get her sucked into an impossible situation. So might her boobs.

"I'll help you if I can while I'm here, Chief," she said, turning around to face him. "But I seriously have to go back to Napa as soon as possible. Everything that uber matters to me depends on it."

He smiled a little, but his eyes remained dark and sad. "My thanks, my lady."

Speal woke from a terrible nightmare, in which a wounded sister she'd pulled from the sea turned into a battered, burnt effigy with broken blade tips for teeth. Wanting but not willing to puke, she shaded her tired eyes against the glare of the sun, and saw the sails fluttering overhead. From the undulating movement beneath her she still remained on the fishing boat. She'd seized this vessel from a Fae disguised as a mortal after capturing him and his crew. Sending her sovereign, the Fae enchantress Derdrui, back to Insii Orc had allowed her and half of her Cait Sith sisters to search for the MacMar Clan, yet the sons of Mar remained hidden.

How ridiculous it all seemed now, as if she'd had a bad dream during a long and fevered sickness.

She didn't want to remember what had happened on the full moon, a night she had arranged for them to spend on an empty island during the search. Once each month the Cait Sith reverted to their true forms so they might hunt and release the wilding natures gifted to them by their Therion blood. Yet once on the island and in the midst of the change they had crossed the path of a dark horror not of the mortal realm. The fiend had ripped through her and her sisters as if they were no more than mewling kittens. As she'd herded her sisters back to the fisher she'd left six of them dead where they'd fallen after being torn apart.

The dark beast had not butchered them all. They yet had the chance to live. Yet how could she face their sovereign if she were losing her mind now?

"Teine." Speal pushed herself up into a sitting position, and looked around at the others on the deck. All sat in their own huddled misery, and returned her regard with weary resignation. "Teine, come here."

"I reckoned you'd nap the rest of the day," a cool, mocking voice said. "As for Teine, doesnae she now rot on the island where you left her and the others? Forget you that we bury our dead? Or mayhap 'twasnae convenient for you."

Speal looked up at the tall figure of her dead sister standing over her, and pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes.

"I cannae go mad. No' now, with Derdrui prepared slay us all." She dropped her arms and let out a sobbing breath. "Fia's no' there. 'Twas a fancy, naught more."

"Dearg's the fancy one. Ever I've been as plain as a spinster." The ghost of the murdered shifter crouched down in front of her. She looked exactly like Fiacail, save for her kind dark eyes, which had become flat and cold. "Now you've mentioned the wee horror, saw you her slain in the night, or did you merely strand her on that lifeless rock? I wished a word with her on how we last parted."

"She's dead. I saw the black monster tear out her throat and toss her into the sea." Fiacail was alive, and angry, Speal thought, staring at her sister's battered face and singed hair stubble. "How can you yet breathe?"

"I met a strange merrow of sorts." She took hold of her arms and drew her to her feet. "He came upon me as a shark attacked me, and used his magic so I might live differently. I'm no longer Cait Sith."

"How can you say thus?" Speal seized her tightly and gave her a hard shake. "Fia, for the love of the Gods, dinnae speak off your head. We've yet failed again to find the MacMar. I must return to Insii Orc and tell the enchantress thus. In her mood of late, she's likely to slay every last one of us."

"Why tell that fiend that you failed, sister?" Fiacail smiled, and for a moment her teeth look larger and pointed. "Indeed, why return to Insii Orc at all? Come away with me and our sisters. We shall join my master and help him. Once he enslaves that marked chieftain, he shall use him to seize a kingdom of merrows, where we shall rule at his side, all of us made sea princesses."

Speal had loved this sister more than any other, and she had spent nearly every day of her changed life at her side. Fiacail had been sometime eccentric and often sympathetic toward mortals, but she had never once expressed such desires. Had such come from Dearg's lips, she would have believed it truth, but not Fia.

"You're spewing naught but jobby," Speal told her flatly. "You no more wish rule a kingdom of merrows than spawn a dozen babes with some randy mortal. Why test me with such drivel? Because I didnae save you? Because I didnae end myself after Dearg stabbed you and pushed you into the sea?" Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she didn't care. "If no' for the others, I reckon I should jump in and drown with you."

The ghastly humor left Fiacail's face, which looked half-healed now. She brushed a hand over the lengthening strands of her singed-edged hair, and then glanced around at the other Cait Sith on deck. They cowered whenever her gaze caught theirs.

"I'm no' as I was," Fiacail admitted. "The merrow put the shark's spirit inside me. 'Tis what makes me so pitiless, I reckon."

Even the betrayal by Dearg, whom Derdrui had ordered to slay their former leader, did not seem as ugly or horrific as what more had been done to Fia.

"Return with me and see our sovereign," Speal urged. "Beg her forgiveness and aid. Surely she may undo the merrow's meddling."

"Derdrui save the shifter she ordered executed most cruelly? Och, ever you've such faith in monsters." Playfully her sister tousled her hair. "'Tisnae the last you'll see of me, my dear one. I hope 'tisnae the last I see of you."

Fiacail went to the railing, climbing up onto it before she leapt into the water, her body forming a graceful arc before she disappeared into the waves.