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They wouldn’t need to fish or hunt tonight. “Why?”
“Ye said ye’d tell me about that rock.”
“Hmm.” He wasn’t sure he wanted to talk about the rock. It was bad enough it was staring at him like it had eyes. He definitely didn’t want to think about. He didn’t want to think, period.
He wanted oblivion.
“I have seen one before,” Anna said as she propped a few bigger pieces of wood over the burning kindling.
She bent over and blew on it, her face glowing orange.
“Where?” he asked, frozen holding the pieces of bread and cheese. “The oubliette?”
“Aye, there.” She straightened as the fire began burning well. “But we also have a rock like that on Islay.”
Islay…it wasn’t even on his map. He’d had no idea. He needed to put a cross on his map, which he’d been relieved to find was still in his travel pouch attached to Daisy’s saddle.
“Really?” he asked. “And what do people say about these rocks?”
She came to him and took the triangle of cheese from him. “Old people believe there are faeries living near those rocks. That those faeries make people disappear. But most Christians know ’tis nonsense. Old tales. Why do they interest ye so much?”
He swallowed. She picked up the knife he’d carved kindling with and cut a piece of mold from the cheese and threw it into the fire. It hissed and smelled like pizza for a second.
Don’t think about pizza. Pizza could be one touch of your hand against the rock away.
This could be the last time he’d see her. It smelled like lavender. He’d met a woman he could easily fall for—perhaps, as James said, Anna was the woman he was “destined” for. That was what Sìneag had wanted. But David had no idea. Sìneag had matched Rogene and Angus across time. Then Catrìona and James. Then Raghnall and Bryanna.
For David…
It could be Anna.
And the rock was right there.
His freedom was at his fingertips.
And now that it was, maybe he didn’t need to hide anymore. He was tired of pretending, lying, being afraid of someone discovering he was a time traveler and doing something medieval, like torturing or killing him.
Most of all, he didn’t want to keep lying to Anna.
Besides his sister, he’d never cared for anyone more than he did for Anna. What they’d lived through together in only four days was intense. They were bound now with more than just the goal of getting to Stirling.
He knew her. He related to her. He’d never felt so alive than he felt with her.
Maybe he would come to regret it, but he wanted to tell her the whole truth.
He hadn’t told it to Dùghlas or anyone else besides the narrow circle of Mackenzies and Cambels who already knew the truth.
She’d be the first one.
He stood up, went to Daisy, and fetched the map, his ink, and his reed pen. As she chewed a bit of cheese, he went to her and unrolled the vellum, showing her the map.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Scotland.”
“What are the crosses?” she asked.
“They are faerie rocks like these where we stand.” He opened the jar of ink and dipped his reed quill and made a cross on Islay. “And we must be around here.” He made a cross around what must be East-Northern Ayrshire, though it was hard to tell.
