Chapter Seventeen
SHE KNEW THE momentshe told Aidan she had made ‘her’ love him that she referred to Maeve. That, however, became the least of her concerns when Aidan faded, and she found herself standing at Brodgar Stonehenge once again.
This time it wasn’t dark and mysterious but bright and sunny. Colors were vibrant. The water shimmered crystalline blue, the plush grass bright emerald green, and the standing stones dazzling silver.
“Ah, you’re starting to remember then, my curious one,” came the woman’s voice from before, seemingly part of the sunlight warming her face. “Which means you’re making your way out of the darkness into the light...love’s light.”
The woman clearly referred to Chloe’s cryptic words to Aidan.
She turned slowly, looking for the source of the voice, but saw nothing.
“Are you Goddess Étaín?” she asked. “Do you know me? Better yet, did you know me in another life?”
“I have known you many times for you have stayed when I have gone,” whispered on the wind. “Yet every time I see you, you grow ever brighter. Ever more beautiful.”
She noticed the voice had not confirmed its name.
“What do you mean I stayed and you went?” She shook her head, thinking like a fantasy fiction buff rather than a journalist. “Do you mean I was immortal?”
“All Fae are immortal, dear one,” the goddess responded, hers more of a sing-song voice dancing around Chloe now. As if that were how the deity laughed. “Until, as in your case, they are not.”
“I don’t understand.” Yet tears welled when unexplainable grief washed over her. “Or do I?”
For a split second, she sensed more answers, but they were just out of reach.
“What did I do, Goddess?” She sank to the cool grass. “What awful thing did I do to Aidan and Maeve when I was a faery?”
Because she had done something. She was sure of it.
“Love is not awful,” Étaín said gently. Her voice sounded farther and farther away. “Especially when done out of love,forlove.”
“I don’t understand,” she said softly, knowing the goddess would hear her no matter what. That she was with her in a unique way. That she always had been. “I just don’t understand.”
“But you will curious one,” echoed on the wind. “Do what you do best. Seek your truth. Find your answers. Embrace your love.”
Another round of grief washed over her, and she hung her head. Whatwasthis? What made her feel so strongly? She sobbed under the weight of emotions she didn't understand. Feelings that made no sense. She was so far gone in misery she never saw it go from day to night nor feel the chill of falling rain. She didn’t see lightning flash or hear thunder rumble.
She was only vaguely aware of being swept up into Aidan’s arms then set down by a fire in a tent. Only vaguely aware of him peeling off her wet clothes and wrapping her in a fur. By the time her overwhelming grief finally subsided, the fire had nearly dwindled.
It felt like she awoke from a dream as she inhaled his spicy scent and felt the warmth of him all around her. Still wrapped in a thick, cozy fur, she was on his lap with her cheek resting against his chest.
“What happened?” she tried to say, but her voice was too raspy and parched. Like she hadn’t drank anything in a millennium.
“Drink, lass,” he urged, holding water to her lips.
Rather than meet his eyes quite yet, she took in their surroundings. The tent was larger this time, allowing for a small fire pit, vented on one side with an open flap. Rain fell in heavy sheets, and lightning continued flashing. “Where are we?” She swallowed hard and forced herself to look at him, surprised by the fear and worry in his eyes. “What happened?”
“We’re right where we were when you vanished hours ago,” he revealed. “Julie and Tiernan are in a nearby tent. Cray continued on with Robert and Donald.”
“We should go.” Yet she felt so damn weak. “We’re supposed to look after King David.”
“And we will soon enough,” he assured. “We’ll leave at dawn. ‘Twill put us there by mid-day.” His gaze remained worried. “Until then, you will rest...and recover.”
“Recover,” she whispered, fighting back another wave of grief. “I don’t think I’ll ever recover, and I have no idea why.”
“Yet I sense you know more than you did when you vanished,” he said softly. “What happened, Chloe? Where did you go?” He hesitated before continuing, his expression troubled. “And what did you mean you made sure ‘she’ loved me?”
Though she’d much rather crawl under the fur and vanish, she knew she had to tell him everything. So she did. All of what had happened at the Stonehenge and her growing suspicions about Maeve.
