Page 58 of Nyall

“Mmmm.” She kissed him back. “You’ll have to spend the night here more often, then.”

They shared the simple meal together as if they’d done so for years, speaking of her plans for the cottage, the work he wished to do on the stronghold’s defenses, and their plans for the day. Caroline intended to collect more abalone shells for Lark, who had worked out her scheme to make buttons with one of the clan’s wood carvers. She would then make space for and plant a small blackberry bush one of the gardeners had given her.

“I’m turning into my grandmother, but I really love growing my own food,” she admitted. “Brochan promised to teach me how to make preserves, too.”

As he listened Nyall had to decide whether to continue the search for Shaw, whom he believed did not wish to be found. The laird had advised him that the chieftain would return when he was ready, just as he had before, but Connal didn’t know about the bargain they’d struck. He found himself telling Caroline everything, and after she refilled his mug she sat back in her chair pondering what he’d said.

“’Tisnae your fault, you ken,” he said, wondering if she was blaming herself for the chieftain’s disappearance.

“That guy wouldn’t have left if he could have safely stayed here,” she pointed out. “Shaw loves this place, and the clan. You’ve seen how he is with the laird, Fletcher, and everyone else here. He just wants to protect the clan. I think after you showed him your power he might have been scared for you.”

“Afraid for me?” He couldn’t fathom that. “Why?”

“I didn’t fall for his pretty face like all the other girls on the island,” Caroline pointed out. “So he leaves right after I decked him, right? Then you nearly fried him with lightning, and he runs off again. The guy avoids anything that threatens him, but not because he’s scared. I think he’s trying to keep the tats thing from doing something after a dust-up like we both had with him. I know it didn’t like me. Maybe it wants to kick your ass now.”

“So what he truly fears, ’tis the thing inside him?” When she nodded he sighed. “Fack.”

“When he approached me on the beach after he got back he seemed a lot better—calmer,” she said. “Getting away from everyone so he can deal with whatever that thing is doing to him is smart, too. It’s like maybe the only way he can settle down is by being alone.”

Everything she said made sense, yet he couldn’t fathom how she knew so much about the chieftain. “How do you see such about Shaw when you’ve barely spoken?”

“Because I do the same thing he does.” She gestured toward the bay. “Why do you think I’m in the water so much? When I’m alone out there, I calm down. The sea doesn’t care about my crap. I can think without distractions, and work out my frustrations. Diving every day kept me together after we broke up. So did living here by myself. Nyall, I’ve been alone since my grandmother died. It’s how I need to live.”

He’d made her suffer, just as Tiree had Prince Mar. For a moment he wondered if he’d made a terrible mistake in admitting to his love for her.

“Hey.” She reached across the table and took hold of his hand. “Don’t do that again, okay? You’re not like your mother. If you’re worried about something happening between us, just talk to me.”

“’Tis new for me, depending on another. Yet you ken my thoughts before I even speak them.” He laced his fingers through hers. “I shall do better, I vow.”

“I know you will. And since you’re in a very good mood, I have an idea I want to run past you.” She told him about the notion she and Jamaran had to spend the night on an empty island outside the barrier. “It’s not just so we can have fun together. Jamaran said there’s a place with caves where we can shelter while you practice controlling the power. He said MacLeir was taking the sheep there to market today, so there won’t even be animals you could hurt.”

His first instinct was to refuse, but he had always kept his troubles to himself. “Wouldnae you rather keep me happy, so I dinnae summon the lightning again?”

“If life here was perfectly peaceful, and no one ever threatened or attacked us, I’d be glad to,” she said, nodding. “Only you’re being hunted by this enchantress chick and her shape-shifters, and then there are the raiders and slavers and all the bad guys out there who might blunder through the barrier. As weapons go, you know nothing is bigger or scarier than lightning.”

“Aye.” He still had some reservations about trying to harness the boon, but he knew she was right. “I’ll send word to Jamaran, and we’ll sail to the island after sunset.”

As he lowered his sails Lugh watched the last of the witches descend the gangway to the sand bar, sloshing through the shallow water as they walked toward the empty island. His mouth hitched as he saw how they hissed and minced, as if a few inches of sea scalded them. Perhaps it did; he knew almost nothing of their kind except that they had poor tempers and seemed woefully ignorant of the other strange creatures who had long abided in the mortal realm.

The vows he’d taken long ago forbid him from using violence against any other being, or he might have summoned a tidal wave to crush and drown them all.

The large heavy one with the sharp tongue came to stand beside him, her beady eyes shifting as she regarded him as she might a wharf rat. “Ken you how to sail this old tub alone?”

She yet remained suspicious of him, but then, she seemed a little wiser than the rest. Sometimes she forgot to guard herself, and showed a few flashes of her own torment over what she had been forced to do. Lugh thought he might have liked her, had she different blood in her veins.

“Aye, only I’d die of thirst before I’d reach home, for you locked away all the water.” He wanted to laugh—water would never be his weakness—but she might then decide to remain on board. “Enjoy your frolic, Witch. I shallnae sail off and leave you stranded.”

Once she descended and joined the one-eyed witch who had waited for her, Lugh pulled up the gangway. In another hour the full moon would rise, calling to all the shape-shifters to change into their true forms. He walked over to the hold hatch, unwilling to watch the witches become that which tainted their blood. He didn’t fear the sight of the half-Therion females, but had spent his long life avoiding all the Fae and their half-mortal get. Being trapped on his own boat surrounded by them had been purely torturous; he longed to return to his stone cottage and sleep in his own bed.

I should jump over the side and swim home.

In Haven, a tiny cove nestled away on an island few visited, he abided happily with his crew and their families, with whom he fished and helped build skiffs to sell in the coastal villages. All those in Haven belonged to the ancient druid tribes who had fled north to escape the Romans, and still practiced the old ways that he had learned to love as a lad. None of them had wanted wealth or power, as the serenity of their simple existence kept all content. When he’d first founded their colony he’d had to pretend to die every few decades, and alter his appearance so that he could pass as his own son. Eventually the eldest men came to him and revealed they knew he was not entirely mortal.

Be at peace, Maister, and ken we and ours shall ever serve as your vassals.

What Speal and her sisters did not understand was the nature of his crew. Thanks to their druid blood, death was never truly the end for them unless they chose that. Their spirits returned to Haven from the Well of Stars again and again through rebirth, which was also likely how the fishermen had discovered Lugh was an immortal being. Although it disgusted him to think of the young men the enchantress would slay, all of them would have the chance to live again if they wished to return.

A sharp rap on the hull stopped him in his tracks, and he looked over to see water flowing up over the railing. Unlike the dark seas around the boat this current glowed with tiny blue-green lights, and seemed as thick as honey.