Chapter 5

Chapter Five

A t the evening meal Connal asked Julianne if she would agree to meet with the king of the Selseus, as Merrick had sent word that he wanted to make a formal offer to her. Valerie then explained that if she didn't want to join the aquatics that she would have to in turn officially refuse. Although she noticed Shaw going rigid with disapproval, Julianne had no reason to dodge the meet and greet. She did have some questions, however, that she should probably get answered first.

"I've been told that they only look like human beings, is that right?" When the laird's wife nodded she took a sip of the pear juice she was drinking with her meal before she said, "If they're from another world, then how did they learn to talk with the MacMar?"

"When my sire first encountered them here, the Finfolk had no speech," the laird told her. "They took mortal females as they wished from vessels that strayed across their boundaries. Prince Mar offered to help them learn language, as long as they ceased abducting women against their will. He wished the island provide a safe living place for the clan's female vassals."

Valerie frowned at her husband. "Your father taught them how to speak human language?" One of the pitchers suddenly tipped over, and she reached out to grab and right it, giving Lark a sharp look. "Ah, you never told me that."

"He did thus with his magic, first so he might parlay with Merrick's sire and create the mist barrier," Connal said. "'Twas needed as 'twas the time Derdrui came hunting him and the clan."

"This Derdrui is that evil Fae shifter chick who killed your dad's wife, right?" Julianne asked, and got a nod from him. "Why did she do that? Did she hate the prince's missus a lot?"

Connal nodded. "My sire first wed the Princess Eilonwy, a woodland elemental, and they abided with great happiness in Elphyne, the Fae otherworld. Derdrui wished Mar instead marry her, and out of jealousy slew the princess. My sire fled to the mortal realm, and here took many mortal females as his wives. Yet the enchantress pursued him again, and vowed she'd slay every woman he'd loved and the sons he'd sired with them. 'Twas necessary for him beg aid from the Fae king, so he might remove her from this realm and imprison her in the Fae otherworld, only in time Derdrui escaped. Now she hunts us again."

"She's terribly vindictive," his wife said.

"For real." Julianne thought of the awful hatred she'd seen in her ex's eyes, all the terrible things he'd done, and what he'd said outside the courthouse. You have no idea what I can do to you, you stupid bitch. "By the way, shouldn't you do something about the gaps in that magical barrier before the evil enchant-chick sails by here and spots the castle?"

"Gaps?" Valerie echoed with a blank look.

"You haven't seen the three huge holes in the wall of mist out there? I spotted them this morning from the window in my room." Julianne pointed toward the stairs to the watch tower. "If you hurry up, you can get a good look at them before the sun sets."

"Please come and show us, Mistress," the laird asked.

A short time later Julianne stood with Shaw and the couple at the very top of the watch tower. To keep Connal from having a bout of vertigo Valerie explained that she had to hold his hand, but even before they went to the battlements the three gaps in the barrier appeared plainly, showing large slices of sky in the middle of the mist walls.

"Mar's blood," the laird murmured, his eyes wide.

"I don't think anyone can see them from the bay shore or where the Selseus have their settlement," Julianne told the laird. "The way the mist curves and bulges out at the bottom hides them. But if you swim out to the middle of the bay like I did when I thought I was saving those Finfolk boys, they're right in your face." She glanced at his wife. "You didn't see these open up? Seriously?"

"We tend to take the barrier for granted," Valerie admitted, giving Shaw a sharp look.

"Why didnae you tell me our sire's enchantment, 'twas failing?" Connal suddenly demanded of his brother. "You saw the breaks in the mist on the night of the storm, didnae you?"

The chieftain's hands fisted, but his expression remained composed as he looked directly at the laird. "I was off my head, my lord. Indeed, in such a state had I encountered that Therion witch herself, I wouldnae ken her."

"None of you noticed the problem, either," Julianne pointed out. "So don't jump on my man Shaw for being too busy with his issues to see it."

Connal looked for a moment as if he might snap at her, and then a flicker of shame passed over his face. "Truth. My apologies, Chieftain. I should speak with Nyall so he may alert the Finfolk commander, and seek how we may restore my sire's enchantment. We shall meet on the morrow at the walking labyrinth, Mistress Scott. Come, Wife."

Julianne waited until they left before she regarded the chieftain. "Lying to your bro now? Seriously?"

Shaw didn't look at her. "How could you ken such?"

"Whenever you lie, you talk a little too fast, say a little too much, and do this." She lifted her hands and made them into fists. "You do the same thing whenever you talk about your Big Bad. Anyway, you should never play strip poker with me. I'll own your naked butt."

He made an impatient sound and stalked over to the gap-toothed wall. When she joined him, Shaw nodded at the holes in the mist.

"I didnae see the breaks in the barrier that night," he said softly. "I'm blinded when I move swiftly with my affliction. Like me, all the world plunges into blackness. Connal doesnae ken such."

"If that happens, then wouldn't you smack into a tree, or fall off a cliff?" she asked. "Oh, wait, I get it. The ink takes over and does the steering for you."

"I dinnae ken what the facking thing manages, nor do I care." He ducked his head. "Forgive me, but speaking of such prods my temper. When I permit the spirit move me, I but wish leave and a moment later I'm in another place."

"Like me, then. So why don't you ask it about all these things it does, and maybe ask for some changes?" Julianne gestured toward his arm. "Can't you, I don't know, have a sit-down with it?"

Shaw gave her a slightly frustrated look. "I dinnae ken what means sit-down."

"When my ex demanded I sign over my parents' farm to him—he refused to agree to the divorce unless I did—my attorney suggested we meet and talk. Everyone sits down when you do that in my time, which is why we call it that." She tried to think of a comparison. "We need to get you and the dark thing to like compromise on stuff. Wouldn't it be lit if you could talk to it the way you do with the healer?"

"Duncan ever parlays with me over my affliction. The beast doesnae possess language." Suddenly he went still, and his lips barely moved as he muttered, "Beauty…such beauty."

From the way he paled Julianne imagined he'd just realized something, but wondered how that could be beautiful. "You okay, Shaw? Don't pass out. You're too big for me to handle out of the water."

"Aye." He dragged a hand over his face, his chest rising as he inhaled and suddenly stretched out his arm to her. "Hold my hand, please."

She wondered why he'd want that, but went ahead and curled her fingers around his. All the excitement in her breasts abruptly died down to that warm glowy sensation again. He tugged her closer, turning to face her. His eyes hadn't gone black again, but they had definitely gotten darker.

"Do you recall the moment we first stood together in the shallows of the bay?" When she nodded he drew their linked hands up. "You embraced me, and in that moment the beast reckoned you a beauty. I heard the thing no' speaking, but thinking."

"Not sure what you mean," Julianne admitted. "You mean like you read its mind? Does it even have a mind if it's never been a person?"

"Before you came here with me, all I ever sensed from the darkness, 'twas the endless and wordless need for killing. Death, 'tis all for which the thing hungers." His gaze shifted to their linked hands. "Now the beast thinks on you, and desires stay near you."

"So it thinks I'm hot instead of just wanting to kill me. Right. That happens all the time." She considered that. "Are you sure that wanting is coming from the darkness?"

Shaw frowned. "Why ask you thus?"

"Maybe you're the one who thinks I'm pretty." That thought pleased her a lot, although she wasn't sure why. "You're the son of a Fae water dude. Caroline said I'm the stuff of Finfolk wet dreams. Not that they'd have dry dreams. But I am pretty hot, and maybe I'm the gal you've been dreaming about, too."

Shaw caught her and whirled her around, pressing her between his body and the tower wall, the edge of which hit her butt. A moment later he hoisted her up onto it, sitting her there and stepping between her thighs. Everything suddenly got real.

This is so not a good idea when I'm still married, Julianne thought as her body instantly disagreed. "Hey, you know, maybe we should have a sit-down about this, like next week or something."

"I dinnae think you pretty hot," Shaw said, his face so close to hers his breath warmed her mouth. "I think you lovely beyond all other females. The scent of you alone drives me mad, and when I look upon you, you blind me, woman. When you're near, I see no one and naught but you. I desire you as I've wanted naught else in centuries." His voice dropped low as he caressed her arms. "You came in my dreams for months before I found you in your time."

"Seriously?" He'd told her that before, but Julianne had assumed he'd been joking. "You didn't see me until you came to my time, remember? You wouldn't know what I looked like."

"I cannae give you reason. 'Tis never made sense until I saw you swimming for me in that cold, dark water." He traced his fingertips along a strand of her hair. "When I touch you I burn, and the black ice in me turns golden flame. Each time I touch you. 'Tis all I think on when I see you, or smell you, or hear your voice."

As he spoke Julianne went drenching wet between her thighs. Why did she get so hot and bothered for this guy? No one had ever turned her up so fast, not even her ex before he went psycho. Of course, Shaw was a hundred times more attractive than Mitch, and he would never whine about using toys in bed or making homemade porn. Plus the chieftain had the whole tragic dark magic curse thing. She'd always had a soft spot for guys with hard luck stories.

Are you going to let your lonely bod and pervy boobs jump into bed with a twelfth century Scotsman everyone else thinks is Satan?

"Chief." She waited until he stopped staring at her lips and looked into her eyes before she said, "Good dreams are fire, you know? I've had some nice ones myself. All those things you said were way nice, too. Maybe we click because you're lonely and so am I. But I've still got a husband in my time. I can't stay here on Caladh, either. I have to get home. I'm really sorry."

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as he said, "You're certain I cannae change your mind?"

If only he would try.

"Thanks, really, but no." Julianne nearly rubbed her hand along his spine before she stopped herself. "Even after I get divorced, I have to keep a promise I made to my parents and protect their farm. It's a special place, and it's the only thing I have left of them. That's why I need you to do something for me."

Shaw drew back a little, looking grim again, but his voice went soft as he said, "Anything."

"After I meet with that King Merrick guy," she said carefully, "will you try to take me back to the future?"

Once enough of her sisters had healed, Speal knew they should sail for Insii Orc so she could deliver the news of their latest failure to their sovereign. She had some confidence that she could persuade Derdrui to punish only her and not the others, and had even decided on which sister to recommend as her replacement. Then she would cut her own throat before the enchantress could begin tormenting her, ending cleanly her long and miserable existence. All this she would have done by now, save for one problem.

"We saw that thing," Mace said as she thumped a cup of brew in front of Speal. "It wore Fiacail's face, and used her voice. Only Fia's dead. 'Tis a trick by the enchantress. She seeks test our loyalty."

She took a sip of the watery brew before she shook her head. "Our sister didnae die in the sea. A merrow found and healed her. She now serves him."

"Merrows, they're but stories mortals tell their bairns so they dinnae stray into water and drown," another of their sisters scoffed. "Ever see you one?"

"It matters no'," Speal said. "For her master, Fia wishes parlay with the enchantress. He's building a shifter army so he may attack the MacMar on their island."

"We need capture the merrow and make him tell us where we may find the clan," Mace said flatly. "Then we may tell the enchantress their location, which shall surely gladden her, and save our hides."

"Or he may destroy us all before our sovereign has the chance." Speal's hand shook, and she set down the cup before she spilled it. "'Twas Fiacail, altered and made cold by our betrayal, but still our sister. I reckon she desires vengeance for Dearg's attack, or she yet cares for us."

One of the Cait Sith with a half-burned face reached out to touch her arm. "'Twasnae your doing. We all ken you wished save her."

"If we return to Insii Orc without the location of the clan, Derdrui may slay us all." She knew she should make the sacrifice to protect her sisters rather than put her trust in Fiacail or her sister's new master, and yet something gave her pause. "Should our sister return to us with her master, shall we parlay with them first? For we possess the enchantress, and they the clan."

Mace chuckled. "We might take them to meet our sovereign, and simply step back and watch."

Speal nodded. "If naught else Derdrui may take out her anger against this merrow male. Fiacail shallnae permit her try again to murder her, and even if she did… She's changed now."

"Made part fish, and those teeth." The burned sister shuddered.

"Very well. We shall wait until Fiacail returns, and then ask to parlay with her merrow master." Speal rose to her feet. "Mace, I need three sisters accompany me so we may bury our dead left behind on the island."

"None shall return there for fear of that black butcher," her sister said. "I shall go with you. Together we can manage."

In the remaining skiff Speal put two spades, which Mace took out and replaced with two unlit torches. In that moment she knew why the other shifter had offered to go with her, and why they wouldn't need anyone else to aid them. Once they lowered the small boat down to the water, she descended the rope ladder and sat on the back bench, waiting until Mace took her position at the bow before she began rowing away from the fisher.

"'Twas Tiene's wish that you burn her?" Speal asked her.

"The villagers who took us after our kin died kept us bound in a root cellar after dark," Mace said, her expression darkening. "'Twas naught but a hole dug in the ground and covered with boughs and clods of dirt, in which insects crept. Tiene thought the walls would someday collapse on us, and we'd end buried alive."

"'Twas why you slaughtered everyone in your village when you became full grown, then." Speal had always heard the story, but never the reason behind their savagery. "So you promised her no grave."

"Burning, 'tis cleaner than burying. She didnae wish become fodder for the insects." Mace turned around and picked up the second set of oars to begin rowing from the front.

With the two of them working together they reached the island where the dark one had attacked them. Speal dragged the skiff onto the shore and tied it off to a weathered rock before stowing the oars under the seats. While she did Mace used a firesteel to light the two torches, handing one to her before they started walking across to the other side of the island.

The dark one had come after nightfall, and with the daylight now Speal could see plainly the evidence of its horrendous attack on the Cait Sith. Swathes of dried blood covered the large rocks; the very ground appeared torn as if by some giant claws. Yet when they reached the place where they had left the corpses of the slain, none of them remained.

"Here. She lay here." Mace crouched down to touch a depression in the trampled grass, and then rose again and looked out at the shoreline. "She wouldnae crawl into the sea, surely."

Speal saw a stained length of blue ribbon caught in some grass, and spied some lace beyond it. "Dearg wore these."

They followed the tattered bits from the battle scene to the sand dunes, where long furrows led down to the surf. Speal knelt down to touch a dark patch, and then brought her fingers to her nose.

"Dearg." She held out her hand for Mace to sniff. "Someone dragged her into the water."

"Someone, or something?" the other Cait Sith muttered as she walked down to something sticking out of the sand.

Speal watched her take hold of the long, blackened snake, which remained limp even as she wrested it from the sand. It came attached to a man's buttocks, like a tail. With that arse came a leg and hips, although they were gray and white instead of pink.

"'Tis all one thing." Mace tossed the remains up beyond the tide mark before she began to dig again, this time pulling an arm and most of a chest from the sand. "Burned before 'twas torn apart."

Speal waited until she had recovered most of the creature before she walked over and watched as the other shifter began arranging the parts. The only thing missing appeared to be the head. "'Twasnae mortal."

"With that cock, 'twas part man." Mace held up a jaw lined with three rows of jagged teeth. "And, 'twould seem, part beast."

She recalled how Fiacail had appeared, and what she had said about the merrow transforming her and the shark. Looking at the burned, twisted bits of what had surely been a monster made her breakfast surge up her throat. She staggered away to empty her belly behind a rock.

Mace came to support her and pulled her hair back from her face. "Did the merrow change our sister after she died, or before?"

"I dinnae ken. Before, I think she told me." She pushed herself upright and wiped her face with her sleeve. "You reckon he took our dead so he might change them as he did Fia?"

The other shifter started to shake her head, and then looked past her and froze.

"You cannae change the dead, Sisters," Fiacail said as she waded out of the water, followed by Dearg and Tiene. "Those with but a spark of life left in them, however, may live again, as you see."

Jamaran accompanied Merrick from the palace to the shores of Caladh, where a dozen of his men stood waiting. "My king, the laird sent word that he and Mistress Scott shall meet you at the walking labyrinth."

He wondered if Connal was simply trying to save time, or further aggravate the tensions between the clan and the Selseus. Since the latest female from the future had come to the island, every Selseus male eyed him with bleak expressions, as if they had already accepted she would not become one of them.

Somehow, Merrick thought, he had to persuade this woman to do otherwise. "Who stands the laird's second?"

"Chieftain Shaw." At the sharp look he gave him, the commander sighed. "The man, he brought the lady back with him from the future. He's named himself her protector, and 'tis talk that she returns his, ah, fond regard."

"Or so the MacMar would make us believe. Facking Shaw shall make issue of such as well." He handed off his spear of rule to his personal guard, and shook his head when they offered a shark hide cloak. "Jamaran shall stand second. The rest of you, wait here."

As they walked up the beach to the trail leading past the forest, his commander constantly scanned the land before and on either side of them. Although his thoughts remained firmly alert, his emotions had snarled into a huge knot of worry and dread.

"Lad, I ken the lady shall likely refuse join us," Merrick told him. "'Tis unfortunate, only we must accept, and persuade our men do the same."

"You've no' yet seen Mistress Scott," was all Jamaran said.

The trail split at its summit, leading to one huge spiraling maze made of low stone walls and another of shells mortared together along an identical path. Both overlapped each other, creating an oval with pointed ends where he and the MacMar laird met to discuss matters of importance. While walking along the curving paths of the shell-lined maze, which had been built by the Selseus, Merrick was obliged to calm his thoughts and seek inner peace before facing the laird.

As he looked toward the center place, he saw Connal standing beside a golden-haired woman as tall as he, with long limbs, sun-kissed skin and a radiant grace that likely made every other female seem drab and clumsy by comparison. The woman turned toward them, and for a moment seeing her brilliant eyes and lovely features as the sunlight poured over her like liquid pearl seemed almost the same as being gutted.

Merrick had long ago given his heart to a bad-tempered red-haired chambermaid he could never take as his Queen. He loved Meg to distraction, and never would there be another for him. He knew this, and still his sullen heart quaked to look upon this beauty. In that moment he became a fumbling lad again.

Why came you here, you rare creature?

Although his people had stopped having female spawn after coming to this world, Julianne Scott might have been a Selseus born. Merrick imagined her long body, clad in only a mating veil of royal golden pearls, gliding through the gilded amethyst seas of his homeworld. The water would stroke her fair hair and caress her with its currents, scattering tiny golden bubbles all over those magnificent limbs. Her voice would move through the currents like a purr of delight, he suspected. Such a female would not allow herself to be taken quickly or easily; she would tantalize and lure before she tried to escape her pursuers. The male who wished to claim her would need all his strength and speed to catch up with her in the depths, declare her his, and fill her womb with his seed.

"Fack me," Merrick murmured when she smiled at him and gave him a little wave with her long-fingered hand. "Who among us saw her?"

Jamaran shifted uneasily. "Only two lads who strayed beyond the settlement. Mistress Scott thought them drowning and made to rescue them."

"As kind as she's lovely. No one shall believe the lads." He rubbed his eyes. "Why couldnae she possess red hair, as Mistress Ambrose? Then 'twould prove simple, persuading the elders she's no' suitable." As he started toward the path, his commander caught his arm, and he frowned. "What more?"

Jamaran sent him a short burst of memories that showed a conversation he'd had with his lover about Julianne.

"Good. Mayhap I may use such." He waited for the younger man to assume his position on the side of the maze, and then started walking the curving paths.

The loose man's leine and trews Julianne wore did not disguise her lithe body, but as Merrick drew closer he realized she did not, in fact, appear quite as perfect as he'd assumed. She seemed slightly too slender, as if she had been ill or gone hungry of late, and some knobs of bone at her joints protruded too much. He noted some shadows smudging the lower lids of her large, dark brown eyes, but as he grew closer he saw a starburst of pure blue color around her pupil. While bi-coloration of the eyes was a common Selseus trait, he'd never known that particular pairing of colors to show in any male of his kind. On some level the combination disturbed him, although he could not fathom why.

What matters the color of her eyes? She's a vision.

Among his men were some who would kill each other over the chance to mate with such an incomparable female. Any child sired on her by one of his kind would doubtless grow tall and fair and appear like a member of a royal bloodline, if she could survive the birth. The suggestion of fragility in her made him wonder if bearing a child might kill her, which would likely end the infant and drive her mate insane with grief and rage.

What do I with you, should you say aye, Mistress? Whom shall I plague with you as wife? How many squabbles and plots shall you inspire?

Merrick finally shifted his gaze to the laird, who looked impatient now. That was when he realized he'd stopped walking and stood only a few handspans from the center of the maze, staring at the mortal female. That Julianne had distracted him so completely did not bode well for a favorable parlay.

"Laird MacMar." He bowed respectfully before smiling at Julianne. "'Tis a good day for a walk, especially when you present us with such a sight as the lady before me."

As Connal started to reply Julianne stepped forward, but did not hold out her hand.

"I can't shake or I'll jolt you, sorry," she said. "I'd try to curtsey, but I'll just fall on my face, so please excuse me from that, too. I didn't mean to scare those two boys from your settlement. No one told me you and your people were living in the bay."

His lips twisted. "Aye, 'tis as I've expected. The clan guards all females who come here of late with great jealousy."

"Not at all, your kingship," she said quickly. "V— ah, Lady Valerie—told me Caroline had a meltdown when she got here and they told her everything upfront. They didn't want a repeat, you know? Keeping quiet was just them trying to be nice to me."

Her odd speech made Merrick glance at Jamaran, who gave him a nod for the lady's benefit. At the same time the commander channeled more memories through their connection. His lover Caroline believed Julianne to be differently minded, while Nyall had told him that the lady made everyone she touched jump, some more than others. Only Shaw seemed immune to her kindling touch, his commander thought to him—and the chieftain's mortal weakness, which set fire to any wood he touched, also went dormant when he touched this female.

She's no' the same as the other ladies from the future, my king, Jamaran told him through their thoughts. I cannae tell you how so, only that I sense her difference.

Merrick nodded to him. I've the same notion from her speech.

"Is there something you wanted to ask me?" Julianne said, glancing over at the commander. "Oh, hey, Jam."

"My lady." The commander bowed to her as if she belonged to the royal bloodline.

Which she could, if I convince her join us, Merrick thought. "I've come so we may speak on the matter of your future life. The truce between the Selseus and the clan guarantee that we may first offer you a place among us."

"Right. The mate thing." She smiled. "I'm totally flattered, Your Majestic Highness, but I can't stick around in your time. I'm married in the future, and my super nasty divorce hasn't been granted yet. My jerk-face ex has practiced forging my signature and can probably sell my parents' farm now. He might even kill someone, burn the body and make the cops think it's me. Anyway, thanks for asking."

"'Tis no guarantee that you may return to your future," Merrick reminded her. "Even if the druids permit you make use of their portal, you yet wear the ring. 'Tis likely the enchantment that brought you here shallnae permit you leave." His gaze shifted to the laird's second. "Then 'tis the matter of Shaw."

Connal quickly shook his head at Merrick, while the chieftain lowered his head and made a low, uncivilized sound.

"Let's not talk about Shaw, okay? We're here about me," Julianne said, extending her hand and studying the ring for a long moment. "Lark told me that she thinks all of us were brought here and given powers to help you all like somehow defend the island. Since we were picked out pretty randomly, I'm not so sure." She wriggled the finger on which she wore the ring. "What's your take on that? I mean, what do you think?"

"I cannae reckon another reason why the magic should bestow such powerful boons on four such gracious ladies." He glanced at the gap in the mist barrier. "Until we repair Prince Mar's enchantment, we're all in great danger."

"That's the other thing. Not really a time for me to be joining anybody." She tapped her finger against her luscious lips. "I think I'd be more help if I stay single, even though I'm really married already. Like I mentioned, I have a jerk-face I need to divorce before he steals my farm. Marrying one of your guys would be like bigotry."

The way her expression changed suggested she genuinely had no love for her mate. "I'd ask you think on the offer for a time, Mistress. Among my people you should enjoy a long and privileged life. We've transformed females who claim a thousand years now among us. I may ask one if she'd come and speak with you about her life, so you may properly ken what I offer."

"As long as I marry who you tell me to, and have his kid," she said, her eyes shifting over his face. Her features lost their innocent openness, and her eyes and flesh took on a dark green tint as her voice lowered to almost a whisper. "Time is of no consequence, Merrick."

Her change in appearance and last words bewildered him entirely. "I dinnae ken your meaning."

"I mean women don't have to do that kind of stuff anymore in my time," Julianne said, looking and sounding as she had before the change. "At least, in America they don't."

The shifts in her voice and demeanor made his gut clench, for it was as if he'd caught a glimpse of someone completely different speaking through Julianne. One thought came to him that he could not dismiss. I cannae permit this female anywhere near my males.

A moment later the thought and his dread vanished, and with a sense of relief he bowed to her. "Much as 'tis painful for me, I accept your refusal, and thank you for listening."

"No problem, your kingship. If you seriously want to find some ladies to join your people, you should maybe ask the women you've already changed. I bet they'd know some widows and girls who can't marry mortal guys because they're too poor or maybe not so pretty. Anyway, good luck." She glanced at the laird. "That all I have to do, Lord C?"

"Aye, Mistress." Connal beckoned to Shaw, who trotted through the spiraling maze until he reached them. "Would you escort the lady back to the stronghold, Chieftain? I need speak with Merrick on other matters, and shall walk with him a ways."

"Aye, my lord." Shaw offered Julianne his arm, and walked off toward the gates with her.

Merrick admired the lady's grace as she left, for she moved as if made of water. Wishing he had a more persuasive argument to tempt her into joining the Selseus should have soured his temper, but he had an idea that he had just spared himself and his people much trouble. What had been that odd thing she'd said to him? Why couldn't he remember it?

"You seem truly accepting of Mistress Scott's decision," Connal said to him.

"I'm occupied with forgiving you for hiding that lass from me," he told the laird. "Although in truth I should beat you into the ground for such. Then as I think on her, mayhap 'twas a boon. My sire's teeth, what a beauty. My males, they'd never cease bickering over her."

"Indeed, I hadnae sought your pardon, but I thank you all the same." As they left the center of the labyrinth the laird's eyes never left his brother's back. "Now I must ask you return the favor I've done you. I need your permission for MacLeir bring a mortal male here from the mainland. 'Tis one who shallnae remain long, but provide me with much-needed counsel."

"I may dispel Caladh from the memory of one mortal, if I'm proper persuaded why I should," he told him. "Who wish you consult, and why?"

"Master Trabalar, a druid scholar familiar with the Pritani tribe of outcasts that enslaved Shaw," Connal said. "My brother refuses tell me much, but I need learn what now possesses him, and what 'twill do if he loses control."

Merrick had known the laird too long to be deceived by mere words. "You wish ken more of the darkness in him, only no' so you may prepare your defenses. You've hundreds of mortals on the island. For them, you need learn how you may end Shaw if he's swallowed by that thing."

Connal nodded slowly. "If anything may end him."