Page 34 of An Unlikely Knight

Chapter Ten

A fully dressed and made-up Aubrey sat at the kitchen island with a cup of coffee in her hand. Her eyes widened when both Erin and Padriag entered the kitchen the following morning. “Did you two kids sleep well? Sleep at all?”

A warm heat traveled up Erin’s neck to her face. “We talked and slept, that is all.”

Gaze traveling up Padriag’s bare legs, Aubrey sipped from her cup. “Right.”

“Do you have any clothes that would fit me?” Padriag asked, not seeming to mind either Aubrey’s insinuations or her perusal.

“If my clothes fit you, I will kill myself,” Aubrey replied. “How dare you, sir.”

“I told you,” Erin said. “You will have to wait until we get to Dunimarle.” She poured two cups of coffee from the pot Aubrey had prepared, added cream and gave Padriag a questioning look. “Sugar?”

“You can call me that if you wish, I prefer ‘babe,’” the smug man replied.

Narrowing her eyes playfully, Erin plopped the cup in front of him and walked to the other side of the kitchen island and climbed up onto a stool.

“What is the plan for today?” Aubrey said. “Go to the castle, tell the others what happened and then what?”

Erin sipped her coffee and replied. “I got up after you fell asleep. Thoughts and words kept shooting through my mind. I wasn’t even trying to think of a spell. When the same words wouldn’t stop coming to me, I began writing them down. Most of it is a jumbled mess that doesn’t make any sense.” She glanced at Padriag who listened with interest. “Maybe some of it can be part of your spell.”

He nodded. “After Meliot’s appearance it makes me wonder what is meant to help and what comes only to send us down rabbit trails.”

Having showered that morning before putting the same tunic back on, Padriag’s hair was damp. Red waves clung together, one falling over his brow. He pushed it away only for it to fall back. The man was every woman’s fantasy, as evident by not only her inability to keep from looking at him, but also the constant glances Aubrey slid at him when she thought Erin wasn’t looking. Not that she blamed her cousin one bit. The tunic clung to every hard surface of his body, accentuating the thick arms, wide shoulders, and broad, muscular chest.

“I-I best shower and change, then we can go,” Erin said, sliding from her seat. “Won’t be long.”

“That’s true,” Aubrey said as she walked away. “Erin is the only woman I know who can be ready in fifteen minutes and look as if she spent hours primping.”

Erin smiled at her cousin. “I’m sure you don’t mind keeping Padriag company.”

Her cousin grinned and turned to Padriag. “Not at all. Tell me about your life here in Scotland before you got abducted. I’m super curious to know what life was really like back then.”

* * *

The atmosphere crackled with apprehension on the drive to the castle, a silent urgency filling the air. A sense that something was about to happen made Erin’s pulse pound in her ears as she gripped the steering wheel. Every few seconds, she forced herself to loosen her grip, to lower her shoulders, but the tight coil of unease in her stomach refused to unwind.

Beside her, Padraig stared out the window, eyes locked on the countryside that blurred past. She wondered what he saw—not just the passing scenery, but the glimmers of centuries gone by. How many times had he watched the world shift and evolve? Rulers rising and falling, wars starting and ending, cultures transforming beyond recognition. The secrets he carried, the truths that had been warped by history books, could rewrite everything scholars thought to be true.

If nothing else, she hoped one day he would put it all into words. Even if no one believed him, his account would be the only firsthand experiences of a world long lost.

“Look!” Aubrey’s voice cut through the thick silence, sharp with alarm. She pointed to the left. “That’s … not normal.”

Erin’s gaze snapped toward where the castle should have come into view, her breath catching. They had just passed through Culross, the last village before the castle. But where the ancient stronghold should have been, perched on its usual rise, there was nothing but an impenetrable wall of swirling mist.

Her foot eased off the gas. “What the hell?” she breathed. “Is that … fog?”

The mist wasn’t natural. It coiled thick and dense, a solid, shifting mass that seemed to swallow the castle whole. It was so solid that no outline of turrets or stone walls were visible.

“Damn it,” Padraig muttered, his entire body tensing. “Pull over. Now. Someone call the castle. I need to know if they can see it from the other side.”

Erin fumbled for her phone, her fingers clumsy as she put the call on speaker. The first ring had barely finished when Gwen answered, her voice taut with worry.

“Erin. I was just about to call you. Don’t try to come here.”

Padriag stared at the phone. “Do you see the mists?”

“Yes, it’s like a wall surrounding us,” Gwen replied, her breath uneven. “We tried to drive through it, but it’s impossible to see once you enter it. We were afraid to go any farther—might hit a tree or … something.”