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“I know and there’s no time to explain it,” I say. “It comes down to this, do you trust me?”
“You’ve stirred a right pot full of trouble since you arrived so strangely in my village,” Johnne says, “but I’ll not deny your heart is true.”
It’s not a statement of trust, but I’ll take it. I look at Brit John.
“I know you not enough to pass such a judgment,” he says stiffly. “But I will not deny I’ve seen you wield powers I do not comprehend and that you, by your actions, have proven yourself to be on our side. In this strange time, I will take any ally I can find.”
“Thanks, I think,” I say, shaking my head. What a stiff, strange man. “Until I return, hold this castle. I’ll come back here first. If you can’t, retreat to whatever bastion you can find. Don’t try to take an offense to the monsters, defend only.”
“Aye lass, we’ve got it. You’ve said as much a dozen times already,” Johnne says.
“And I’ll say it a dozen times more if I must, to make sure you don’t get some ideas of bravery and glory in your head. Your steel needs magic to back it up against this foe. I’ll return with it.”
I hope.I don’t give voice to my own doubts. They will serve nothing good here and this is already a tenuous situation.
“Go, m’lady,” Brit John says, making a half-bow. “Spend no more time arguing with the mongrel. I’ll see to it that caution and prudence rules the day.”
Well, stiff or not, at least he’s on my side. I take my leave and head back to the tower to meet Dugald and Moira.
* * *
The four of us slip away from the crumbling castle and skirt the edge of Loch Ness. The heavy smell of the water fills the air along with the lapping of the waves. In any other time, it would be a soothing sound. The kind of white noise that would create a sense of peace and calm. Now it’s the slapping smacks of approaching doom.
The world is gray in the predawn light. The land rocky and rough. I pay careful attention to each placement of my foot to avoid a fall or twisting an ankle. That’s the last thing I need, especially with no access to magic.
I have access. I am powerful.
Grimacing I push aside the thoughts. I can’t draw it in, and I know it. I’m gaining a new appreciation for Frodo’s story. I don’t know that I ever really got the temptation of the ring he carried. It always seemed, to me at least, like a contrived plot tool to drive the story forward. Now I know better and wish, with all my heart, that it was.
Dugald leads the way. He walks with an easy confidence that belies both the treacherous path and the desperation of our situation. Moira stays close by my side, and we follow the path he’s choosing. Siobhan, though, glides across the land as if she isn’t really touching it.
She makes walking an artistic expression and I can’t keep myself from stealing appreciative glances in her direction. I wonder if it’s an ability of what she is or something she herself has perfected. Vampires in movies and books were always supposed to be insanely beautiful, which she is, and they would often be described as moving like that, but again I always thought that was a way to sell the attraction.
How much of the world I left behind is only echoes, pale as they may be, of the hidden reality of the magical?
A thin, wispy mist rises from the ground as we walk. It’s taking longer than it ever has before and the sun is rising, except the world is not getting any brighter. The sky is overcast with thick, gray clouds, filtering the morning light and leaving the land dreary and bland. The world is in mourning, lost because of my decisions. My inability to control my temper.
Great. Well done, Quinn.
“How much longer?” I speak softly, meaning my words only for Moira.
“It’s not easy,” Dugald barks.
“I know, sorry,” I say. “Can I help?”
Dugald stops and we huddle together.
“I don’t know,” he says. “I’m trying to draw as little magic as I can to avoid taking in the taint, but it’s not enough.”
I nod understanding, trying to come up with a bright idea that will help while ignoring the whispers in my own head. Whispers, dark thoughts that are maybe mine, maybe not.
“Can we join together? Each of us take in some?” I ask. Dugald and Moira exchange a fast glance and I know, once again, I’ve stumbled over some secret they’ve held back. “Are you kidding me? Now? After all this you’re still holding back secrets?”
“Quinn, it’s not intentional. It’s not as if we’ve had time to train you in the ways of magic.”
I sigh, not so much in exasperation but to let the irrational anger go. They’re right and we’re back to my own regrets and poor decisions of not staying with the Druid. I nod understanding but don’t miss the look on Dugald’s face.
“What?” I ask.
