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“Not fighting?” he says, dropping his fist.
“Aye, lad,” Johnne says. “She’s right. It’s fine.”
“Oh,” Duncan says, looking around in confusion. “Right.”
He recovers quickly because that’s Duncan. He’s unflappable and has an amazing ability to roll with most any punch life throws at him. He places his arm around my waist, and we turn towards the leaders.
“What happened here first?” I ask.
The two men look at each other and Johnne shrugs.
“Ach, lass, we do nae know,” he says. “We were about ta be overrun and then the monstrous bastards more or less melted. Left this mess you see here.”
He makes a sweeping gesture that takes in horizon to horizon.
“The Scotsman has the right of it,” the commander agrees. “The demons were over the walls. I shudder to say it, but we would not have survived the night.”
I see the fear in their eyes and know how bad it must have been no matter that they are trying to make light of it now.
“Come now, tell us yuir tale,” Johnne demands. “I’ll nae be far off me guess except you had a strong hand in these events.”
“You’d be calling that bet right,” Duncan chuckles, and I smile.
I tell them the tale to their complete disbelief. As I talk the men of both sides press in close and there are plenty of oohs and ahs that go around. As I talk something inside my heart calms and settles.
Duncan has his arm around my waist, and my mom and Dugald are close to hand watching. I’m home. Home and I know it.
My duty is fulfilled. My life is now mine to live as I see fit. And knowing that, my heart is fit to burst. I share my tale and, while most won’t believe it, none of that matters because the world is safe. Again.
* * *
“What are you doing out here?” I ask, walking up to Dugald.
The sun hasn’t yet crested the horizon but its first rays are turning the dark to shades of gray. He stands on the castle wall staring to the west. He lowers his head and coughs but doesn’t answer.
“Dugald?”
“Aye,” he says softly.
“Are you okay?”
“Aye,” he says. “I am.”
I doubt his words but don’t feel right pressing for more, so I do what seems best. I join him at his side and stare at the horizon with him. No matter what, Dugald is my friend. A dear, close friend and I do remember all the lifetimes we’ve spent together and the loves we shared. I also understand how it hurts him to not be able to claim me for his own, but that’s not this life.
“Will you be going back to the Queen soon?”
“Aye,” he says, trailing his fingers across the moss covered stone of the castle parapet. “She will have need of me. The war left a mess behind.”
“What about…” I choke on the thought and can’t say it. Dugald glances but only for an instant. He knows what I’m trying to ask.
“The Unseelie Court will be in disarray, but Mab will resolve the problems there.” I give him a hard look and he swallows, bows his head, then shakes it. “She will be honored. I will see to it.”
“Good,” I say, but it does nothing to assuage the empty ache in my chest. Trying to change my thoughts away from the pain doesn’t work because my next thought is no better. “Will I see you again?”
He doesn’t answer. My heart beats loud in my head as I wait. I study his face as he stares into the distance. He has a strong jaw, I like that. His skin is smooth shaven and there is a hint of the ephemeral to him, as if he’s slightly translucent, not quite here or at least not here on the same terms as a human.
“Do you want to?” he says, his voice so soft I barely catch the question.
