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“I may look old, but I feel fine.” Hùisdean accepted the help and stood on shaky legs. He bent his knees several times, picking up his sword and giving it a few swings.
“How do you feel?” Ayda asked nervously. Hùisdean kissed her forehead and leaped into his saddle with his signature elven grace.
“Like we need to get to Stanydale and try to contact Margaret again.”
Ayda nodded in response and saddled up. They trotted out of the woods as quickly as they could without running. They rode in silence, side by side, and Ayda didn’t breathe freely until the trees of Nangroth were behind them.
Chapter Twenty
Dusk was upon them as Ayda and Hùisdean approached Stanydale. The temple was no more than a hollowed-out depression in the ground, roughly the shape of a keyhole. It was bordered on all sides by a stone wall, indicating where the walls once rose around it. They climbed a small hill to get to it as the setting sun aligned perfectly with the northernmost point of the structure. It cast golden rays throughout the entire countryside.
Ayda pulled her horse to a halt and closed her eyes. She breathed deeply. The magic was different here—more potent. She could tell immediately that it was a deep and ancient source of the Shetland Islands’ power.
“If there’s any place where Margaret will have the most power to communicate, it will be here,” Ayda said while looking around. Hùisdean dismounted his horse and held his hand out, helping her to the ground.
“How did you summon Margaret in the forest?”
Ayda looked around. “We gathered stones, wood, and some plants for an altar, but I don’t see any materials like that. We’re in a grassy meadow. But honestly, I’m not sure if that altar was for summoning Margaret or unlocking my magic. Ásví didn’t say.”
“Of course she didn’t.” Hùisdean smirked. “I wouldn’t expect her to.”
“Nothing about curse breaking is easy, is it?” Ayda countered, gently knocking her shoulder against his.
“No, no, it isn’t.” Hùisdean agreed. He grabbed her hand, and they stood there together. They had peace for a few moments as the brilliant sunset turned the world gold around them. Ayda didn’t want to think of it as their final moments, but there was something final about it. This was the last of their ideas. If this didn’t work, they weren’t sure what would.
Hùisdean’s thumb stroked over the back of Ayda’s hand. She leaned against him, resting her head against his arm. The marks on her arms still hadn’t faded away. Ayda had a feeling they were permanent now.
I can’t say I mind, Ayda mused, looking at the intricate patterns. It’s magic that’s wholly mine.
Something was healing about possessing a magic of two worlds, unique to Ayda’s heritage. It set her apart from her mother and celebrated the cloth she was cut from. It settled an ache in her chest she didn’t know was there.
“What do you think we should do?” Ayda asked softly.
They were standing at the base of Stanydale, at the opening of the short hallway that led to the round foundations of what would’ve been a great room. Hùisdean shrugged.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “My power is officially gone. I think that means this is the source of the curse, but…” Hùisdean looked around. “I don’t have the faintest idea of what to do.”
He didn’t look concerned. Ayda waited for her anxiety to hit, but it never came. It never came because she knew exactly what to do. It was like breathing—an innate sense of something her body had always done.
“Once the sun goes down,” Ayda said softly, “we’ll stand in the middle. There’s a smooth, round stone at the center. It’ll work as an amplifier. I can talk to Margaret there.”
Hùisdean raised a brow. “Is that so? Have you been here before?” He grinned, his sense of humor never failing.
“Ha ha.” Ayda deadpanned. “You know I haven’t. I…know it, somehow.”
Hùisdean shrugged. “I believe it.” Hùisdean turned to face her and put his thumb under her chin, tilting her face to meet his. “We’ve got, what, maybe four minutes until the sun goes down?” There was an undeniable heat in Hùisdean’s gaze.
“I think so.” A delicious shiver ran through Ayda. “Do you have something in mind?”
Hùisdean kissed her in response. It was familiar and heated simultaneously, a sensation Ayda had come to crave. His movements were languid and confident, his lips pressing against hers until he licked the seam of her mouth. Ayda opened her mouth, and Hùisdean was there, tasting her, sending shockwaves of heat through her body.
Ayda’s hands pressed into Hùisdean’s shoulder blades, wanting to anchor herself in the moment. No matter what happened, this was what she wanted to remember. The nearly magnetic way Hùisdean amplified her magic and made her feel powerful in his arms.
When Hùisdean pulled away, their chests were heaving. Ayda didn’t want to open her eyes. It was a moment she wanted to last forever.
“Ayda,” Hùisdean whispered, “open your eyes.”
Ayda obeyed and gasped. The sun had set, and millions of fairy lights were suspended in the air around them. The mandala mehndi patterns on Ayda’s arms were glowing bright blue, with tiny Celtic knots incorporated into the design. A soft breeze lapped at their skin, but it didn’t feel cold. Even Hùisdean’s skin was covered in green, glowing Celtic knotwork and Futhark runes.
