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Alesoun gathers up my clothes, which are stained and tattered anyway, and throws them onto her fire. I try to cry out and stop her, but my heart sinks and I don’t. Reality is hitting me. I have no idea what I’m going to do, but I do know I have to get home. Somehow. Back to my time.
Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought? Could this all be some weird coma dream?
I’m fully dressed in a multi-layer blouse and skirts, watching my clothes turn to ash. Sadness is almost overwhelming. It’s all I can do to not cry. I sniffle, pushing down my emotions and trying to focus.
“Thanks,” I say morosely.
“Ach, you’re welcome,” Alesoun says, eyeing me over. “Here, let me fix your hair for you.”
She uses a wide-toothed wooden comb, jerking it through my shoulder-length hair. I yelp with each knot she comes across and roughly works out. Once she has cleared all the tangles, she twists my hair up into a tight bun. Once she’s done, she comes to stand in front of me and gives me a once over. She frowns, pokes at my hair, then tugs at the blouse here and there before nodding in satisfaction.
“Well, do I fit in better?”
“Aye, you’ll fit in fine,” she says. “I would nae be saying nothing about when you’re from, unless ya fancy being banished to the Highlands on your own.”
“Right.” I square my shoulders and look around the room, then once again the enormity of all of this hits me. “What am I supposed to do?”
She smiles for the first time since I’ve met her. It’s a sad, world-weary smile but even so the kindness of it is in her eyes and written clearly on her face. She touches my shoulder.
“Survive,” she says.
Such a simple word yet it lands on my ears with a weight that crushes my soul. I force a false smile onto my lips, but tears press behind my eyes and it’s hard to catch my breath.
“Do nae worry, lass,” Alesoun says. “I’ll help as much as I can. I’m no witch, nor can I read the future, but you’ve got a destiny, that’s for sure. The fair folk have brought ya to us and in time their reasoning will play out.”
“Thank you,” I say.
“I’m only doing what any good God-fearing woman would,” she says. “The Lord's own grace is all.”
“God-fearing? You’re fae touched too. You still believe in God? Even after they’ve cast you out?”
“Men’s judgment does nae mean I’m lost to the light of grace, now does it?”
I shake my head, confused by the contradictions but not willing to argue with the one person who knows my secret. My secret. I’ve never been good at keeping secrets and yet here I am, with a great big one. One that if revealed will most likely result in my being banished and on my own in the Scottish Highlands in the medieval times.
“Well, Quinn,” I say in a whisper. “You wanted the authentic Scottish experience.”
“You’ll get tha for sure,” Alesoun says. “Now we need be getting you to the chief for you’re welcoming.”
“Great,” I say, my stomach dancing like a flock of birds assaulting my intestines. “What’s a welcoming?”
Alesoun smiles. “Nothing much. You’ll be introduced to the clan. Given a few rules. Welcomed and all.”
“Doesn’t sound too bad.”
“He won’t be your problem,” Alesoun says darkly. “It's the women folk you need worry about. If’n they take a dislikin’ to ya, or worse if they’n decide you’re a witch…”
She trails off and I don’t need her to finish the thought.
Great. If I slip up, say the wrong thing, look the wrong way, or pretty much any of dozens of possible mistakes, I’m screwed.
Chapter Nine
As I follow Alesoun out the door, I’m lost in the myriad thoughts of all the things I have to make sure I don’t do and the possible consequences of screwing this up.
“Hey,” Duncan says.
I yelp, jumping to the side and raising my fists to defend myself.
