Page 40 of Rory

Chapter Ten

As Harper lay down beside Rory, she snuggled against him with a sigh of relief. She really wanted to climb on top of him, and press her hot, damp face against his bare chest, and maybe see if she could pickpocket his v-card. She didn’t try because she didn’t want him to tie her up again. He didn’t try to steal hers or say anything, he simply held her. That was the best, really. Everything else could wait as long as she could sleep every night with this gorgeous, wonderful man beside her. When she brought up one hand to knuckle away the last of her tears she saw the abrasions on her wrists had already stopped bleeding.

“Sorry I got drunk.” She couldn’t keep her eyes open for another second. “I’m so tired, Blue Eyes. Can we just sleep like this?”

He nodded, and used one of his hands to slowly rub her back. The warmth of his big body soon chased away her chills, and the more she relaxed the sleepier she grew. Before Harper knew it, she was floating down into a dark dream place, all of her anger and fear disappearing like melted snow.

Dinnae weep, Rory said as he caught her, and set her on her feet. Any more tears and you shall surely break my heart.

She turned around as the darkness turned bright and trees grew up around them, widening into giant oaks with heavy, nubbly bark and sprawling limbs. In the distance she could see the snowy tops of mountains so old they had been worn down to waves. The sky here was so crystal clear the sunlight made it shimmer like a giant curving wall carved from pure aquamarine.

This isn’t the woods where my mom hid in the hollow. She glanced at him. This is your forest.

From my boyhood, aye. He held out his hand, and when she took it he led her down an old dirt path hemmed on either side by moss and ferns.

After a few minutes they reached a small clearing, which contained a very old, shabby-looking cottage with a small garden in the back and a stack of firewood against one side wall. A tall, dark-haired woman who looked remarkably like Ava Travars stepped out, her arms full of damp linens.

’Tis Chomha, my lady màthair , Rory told her.

Harper froze. She’s going to like me, right?

His mother gave her a long look before she nodded. I’ve put the kettle on, lad. Take your lady inside. She walked out to a patch of green grass and spread the newly washed linen over it.

Inside, the cottage was cozy and had simply carved wood furnishings and bunches of drying herbs hung from the rafters. Harper smelled something delicious coming from a pot hanging in the fireplace, and saw steam rising from the spout of a kettle beside it. Rory gestured for her to sit on the bench by the small table at the front window, and drew up an extra chair before joining her. When his mother came back inside he looked at her with misery darkening his beautiful eyes.

Dinnae mourn me again, my son, Chomha said firmly. I’ve been gone too long for such. Didnae you tell the lass the truth of your birth?

He shook his head and then stared at the floor as if ashamed.

His mother regarded Harper. ’Tis why he brought you to me, then. The lad yet believes he ruined my life, when in truth he saved me. Aye, and brought me into the light.

The cottage faded away, replaced by an old-growth forest that seemed incredibly quiet. Chomha walked toward a dark ditch in the ground in front of a massive ash tree, and crouched down to peer inside.

Even in dreams you seek to hide from your meddling. Come and speak to the bairns, you troublesome old crone.

Harper forgot to breathe as light split open the trunk of the ash, and the green-haired woman who had cared for her and her mother stepped out and scowled at Rory’s mother.

“Why did you summon me?” the melia demanded, her voice echoing in the forest. “I’m far from this forsaken time, and wish never to return again.”

The fact that she could speak out loud when the three of them were just sharing thoughts gave Harper the shivers.

Chomha held up one slim hand, and the strange woman fell silent. Rory’s mother then swept her hand from right to left, and the world around them whirled, day fading into night into day in rapid succession. Harper grew dizzy watching the spinning and closed her eyes. A big hand wrapped around hers and squeezed gently as Rory spoke in her mind.

Dinnae fear the flow of time. My lady màthair moves us deeper into the past.

Why?

Watch and see.

At last Harper sensed the spinning world had stopped, and opened her eyes. The forest still surrounded them, but the sky above had turned green. A very pregnant Chomha lay on her back by a beautiful stream, her knees raised and the melia crouched in front of them. She realized she was watching Rory’s birth inside the melia’s world.

You’re like me. You were born inside the melia’s world.

Aye. The Briseadh could track anyone anywhere in the mortal realm, so when Chomha fled from her tribe she came to beg sanctuary from the ancient one. Her world, ’twas the only haven where she might safely give birth to me. We remained there until I counted ten name days.

Ten years in the enchanted world, which was three more than she’d spent in hers with her mom. That’s why you’re so big and beautiful and strange.

My sire’s blood protected me a little, but I suffered changes like you all the same. I shall ever be a giant among my brothers. My mortal weakness never emerged inside the melia’s world, but when we came out to the mortal realm it became lethal. I may use druid magic when my Fae blood should make thus impossible. I’ve walked through time in my dreams.