“Of course. But I need to speak to someone else who is like me. No one here is.” She had this fear that something inside her was changing. Her cousins were seers, her brother John had special abilities, but she’d never been anything special. She’d always been the quiet lass seated in the corner.
She couldn’t sit any longer.
Her father reached her side, wrapped his arms around her, kissed her forehead, and said, “Ailith, you are my verra special lass. Never forget that. I will support you in any way I can.” He let out a sigh and stepped back. “I think Dyna will be able to help you.”
She hoped he was right. Guilt already rode through her because she’d promised to tell him everything, but she did not speak the rest of the dream. The part that bothered her the most.
She did not tell him how the man had turned at the end. How his gaze had fixed upon her from behind the monster, as though he could see her across whatever veil separated them.
Nor how his lips had formed a single word.
Help.
Chapter Three
Edan
Edan stood outside Dunyvaig Castle later that day, his gaze shifting from Catrina’s husband, Arne, to his brother Roger. His sister held his arm in a tight grip, and he knew exactly how she felt—more frightened than ever.
“You’re sure that’s what that means, Catrina?” He held up the ring of woven thistles, ignoring the pricks against his thick calluses.
“Aye. It’s said they’ve been stolen by the faeries, never to return. This is the sign that they are safely hidden away. I want our son back, Edan.” He couldn’t bring himself to look at Catrina’s tear-stained face. He knew his looked the same.
Losing Heilyn was more than he could bear. “I’d like to disagree with you, but the fact that we both had the same thing left in our cradles is telling.” He hadn’t noticed the ring in the dark, but when he returned, there it sat in her cradle. That had been so difficult to accept, but losing his beloved nephew made it even worse.
Arne said, “Especially during a storm. That was the oddest storm ever. Bright lightning, loud thunder but no rain.” He made the sign of the cross on his chest. “God help us all.”
Roger paced in front of the castle, looking up at the stone building as if it would have the answers they needed. “I’m telling you. I heard someone speak of the same happening at Dunyvaig less than a fortnight ago. And more than one bairn. I’m certain of it. I just didn’t think it could ever happen to our family.”
Dunyvaig Castle sat close to the busiest port on Lagavulin Bay on Islay, the place where ships came from both Mull and the mainland, bringing goods and travelers many times a sennight. Their own galley ships sat not far from the jetty.
Edan glanced over at the sea in the distance, two ships headed their way. He leaned over and bussed his sister’s cheek. “I’ll go ask to speak with MacKay’s second.”
Tavish MacKay, chieftain of Clan MacKay of Dunyvaig, was helpful but a busy man. All Edan needed to know is if others had seen the same.
He closed his eyes and said a small prayer that this would be caused by something tangible, anything other than his father’s admission of guilt. His father had warned him not to return to Islay, that they would pay for it, but Edan had chosen to ignore him. He didn’t like Jura mostly because of all his father’s rantings, so shortly after he’d passed on, they’d moved to Islay. The land was far more fertile on Islay, and hisclachanneeded food. It was best for everyone.
Except for poor Heilyn and Milo. Both nearly the same age, the two together were a delight, and their love for one another was contagious; the giggles erupting from them at the sight of each other guaranteed to put a smile on anyone’s face.
“At least they’re together.” Edan spoke before he could stop himself.
Catrina gave his arm a light slap. “You don’t know that. You don’t know anything. Why would this happen to us? I don’t understand.” The rows of worry lines on her forehead told Edan just how many hours she’d been awake last eve. Dark circles under her eyes, tears glazing over but not falling. He knew exactly how her night had gone. Exactly like his.
Oh, but he did know things she didn’t know about their father. Things Roger didn’t know either. As the eldest, Edan had kept it to himself because he’d considered it rantings of a sick man. He had carried the secret for many summers after their sire had passed on, but it had finally come time to face all the consequences, just as his father had warned him.
He nodded to his family, “Stay with the horses. I’ll go ask his second. Then we’ll get something to eat at the tavern.” They sat in a clearing on a hill with a full view of the bay, ships and fishing boats everywhere.
He didn’t have any time to waste.
He passed two cottages on the way to the castle walls, one with a floral basket on a tree stump. As soon as he passed it, the flowers withered, causing him to scowl. He stopped, scratching his head. Was he seeing things? Had the flowers truly been standing tall a moment ago? Nay. He hadn’t been paying attention. That was all there was to it. A simple mistake in his mind.
Flowers didn’t die instantly.
There were no flowers at the next cottage, but just the same, he glanced back over his shoulder at the wilted ones, wondering if they’d come back to life, but they hadn’t.
He trudged ahead. There was no time to worry about such wee details.
The smallclachanoutside Dunyvaig Castle housed a fair number of clan members. The villagers worked the fertile fields nearby and enjoyed the company of their neighbors. Perhaps Edan needed to move hisclachanhere. He’d thought it safest to be in their own location, away from the busiest area on Islay. They’d settled in Kilmeny, a small village not far from Port Askaig where travelers moved back and forth across the Sound of Islay to Jura. Finlaggan was close, had a busy market with many skilled tradesmen, and the land was fertile. They’d been happy there for some time, their crops improving every year.
