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Rationally, I know it’s for the best. Tomorrow night, I’m supposed to meet the stranger by the standing stone. While I’ve debated whether or not I will go, it now feels like the right decision. I clearly don’t belong here. This is about to go from bad to worse and somehow, I need to get back to my own time.
But it hurts. It hurts so damn much. What sense does that make? If this is really the right move, the right thing to do, can’t it at least hurt less? It feels like something is tearing inside my chest, sharp claws ripping my heart all while the villagers continue to debate and argue. As I watch I can’t help but imagine what might happen to each of them. Those dark thoughts hurt more than I can stand.
“All right,” Chief Johnne says, speaking at last. “Listen. I do nae doubt that Alisdair will call a gathering. Until we know what he is planning, all else is speculation.”
The crowd rumbles but no one disagrees.
He straightens to his full height, looking over the people of his village. “Now we ’ave work to be done. Get yourselves to it.”
“Aye, that’s the right move, Johnne,” Alesoun says from behind me, and I jump.
“Oh, I didn’t hear you,” I say, heart thumping.
“You’re nae here at all, how can ya?”
Warmth flushes my cheeks at her soft reprimand.
“Here, give me the churn. Can I trust ya to come back with some berries this time if I send ya out?”
“Of course,” I say, standing up and stretching the stiff muscles of my back.
“Of course, she says.” Alesoun tsks. “I sent ya out before and did I get any berries? Do nae let yourself be distracted, lass. Get me the berries and get back. All this excitement, we need be preparing. There will be a gathering and that is no small thing to cook for. I’ll need do my part for the clan.”
“What is a gathering?”
Alesoun sighs and shakes her head.
“Ach, lass, ya know nothing. A gathering is when the clan chief calls the clan together to discuss clan business.”
“But I thought Johnne was the chief?”
“Aye, he is, of the village. He’s nae chief of the whole clan though. He cannae handle a proclamation from the King of England.”
Knowledge burns on the tip of my tongue. I clench my teeth to hold it back. Even though she knows my secret, I can’t tell her. It’s too much and here, at this time, what is she going to do to change their fate? All I would be doing is giving her the same burden I’m carrying. If anyone can do anything to stop it, it’s going to be one of the men. I’m a really long time before any kind of women’s liberation.
“Oh. What do you think they will do then?” I ask, knowing the answer, but hoping by some miracle I’m wrong. Maybe I’m remembering my history wrong. Maybe the texts I read were wrong. Something. Anything.
“If’n I know Chief Alisdair at all, it will be settled with swords before words. Ach, men folks.” She shakes her head while making a disapproving sound. “Always thinking with their cocks and steel, nae with their words and their brains.”
That makes me smile. “I get that. It doesn’t really change.”
“There you go, taking away any hint of hope I might have had,” she says.
“Sorry,” I say, ducking my head in a sort of apology. “Alesoun?” Her mouth twists with aggravation but she arches an eyebrow. “The tale at the fire was that true?”
“True as tales ever are,” she says with a shrug then resumes churning.
“I’ve heard that before, about the Fae and their food.”
“Aye. Time is different for the Fair folks and if’n ya eat the food of the fae, you’re bound to them, same as blood.” I chew my lower lip unsure why that part of the tale stuck with me. “Right, now off with ya,” Alesoun says, shooing me away. “Do nae come back with less than a full basket. Ya hear?”
I nod as I pick up the basket from the shelf next to the door and head for the hills. Filling the basket is not going to be an easy task. It’s a big basket for one but it’s also not as if the berries grow thickly anywhere that I’ve seen.
As I make my way past the herd of grazing cows, their earthy scent is an assault on my senses. One of them stops grazing and turns its large head to watch me pass. It’s thick and rust colored. Its shaggy hair shimmies as it snorts and shivers. I strain my neck to watch it over my shoulder as I move past it. I have that strange feeling I’m being watched, but I don’t see anything besides the one cow out of the entire herd.
Quinn.
Someone whispers my name. Chills raise the hairs on the back of my neck and I shiver, looking quickly around for the source. I don’t see anyone. There’s no one for as far as I can see. I’m alone, striding across the open fields of the highlands.
