Page 59 of Shaw

“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.