“We’ll start tomorrow,” Liora said, rising from her chair. “I’m coming over and that’s that.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
At the door, Liora paused and looked back at me.
“Agnes? That thread connecting you to the Stone?”
I waited.
“It wasn’t only dark. Because on the flip side of dark, is well, light. So, there’s something to be said for that, you ken? It was, I don’t know,reallybeautiful.” Her expression softened. “I think we can figure it out. I have faith in us.”
She slipped out before I could respond, leaving me alone with the weight of her words and the dark surface of the loch glittering beyond the window. I leaned my head back against the chair for a moment, watching the lights of the village ripple across the surface of Loch Mirren.
Graham.
His name ached in my heart, the way it always did when I let myself think it.
For years, I’d told myself that keeping him at an arm’s length was an act of honor. That my distance was the kindest thing I could give him. That watching him live—even if it meant watching him live without me—was better than the alternative.
But what if I’d been wrong?
What if the curse wasn’t a death sentence, but a puzzle? Something that could be understood, unraveled, or bloody hell, broken?
What if I didn’t have to be alone?
I pressed my fingertips to the cold glass of the window, staring out at Loch Mirren.
Somewhere beneath that still surface, the Beithir waited. If that wasn’t enough to mess with my head, the thought of actually being able to love Graham open and freely would certainly do the job.
“Great, and that’s me not likely sleeping tonight,” I murmured out loud, standing.
A soft moo sounded, my only warning before Clyde slipped softly out of the wall. It was the first time I think I’d ever seen the ghost coo gently enter a room. It was as if he’d sensed that I needed a gentle approach in that moment.
“Hey, buddy,” I murmured, laughing as he bounded over to me and booped his big head against my arm. It was like being showered with ice crystals, and I shivered as I brushed against his apparition.
Clyde mooed again, the sound soft, and I understood he was trying to soothe me.
Was he telling me that I wasn’t alone in this weight Icarried? Just like Liora had so blatantly reminded me. Maybe itwastime. Time to put down this burden and actually do what I was good at.
Research.
It appeared we needed answers, and according to the Clach na Fìrinn, the Truth Stone buried out on the island and currently wreaking havoc on our lives with its band of merry water horses, I was the one to get them.
Lovely. Just lovely.
“I guess it’s time we find the truth.”
Clyde threw his head back and bellowed to the ceiling, sending me flying a few steps forward and clutching my hands at my chest.
“Damn it, Clyde.” I laughed. “Warn a lass, first, would ya?”
Clyde tossed his head and stomped his foot, delighted with himself, and winked out of sight, and despite everything, his appearance had eased some of my tension. I straightened my shoulders.
It appeared I had some work to do.
CHAPTER THREE
GRAHAM
