"I don't know much about him." Helena shrugged, feeling her face beginning to flush a little. Why did she always get so shy when it came to talking about guys she had feelings for? "Really, we've only just met."
"I know him fairly well," Audrina said serenely. "He's been tutoring my son for some years. Jamie adores him — thinks he's absolutely brilliant. I owe him a great deal, honestly. A lot of his learnings have helped us deal with Jamie's seizures."
Helena was curious. Audrina hadn't spoken much about her son — she'd mentioned briefly that the boy had some health concerns, but not much more than that. Seizures sounded pretty serious… especially in these times, when medicine wasn't exactly what it could be. "So he's a doctor?"
"Not exactly. He's an apothecary — and a scholar. A lot of these books were gifts from him, brought back from London," Audrina explained, gesturing around at the densely packed shelves of the library.
"Is that why he's got that accent?" Bethany sounded fascinated. "I talked to him for the first time the other day and I couldn't put my finger on it."
"His father was a MacClaran, but his mother was an Englishwoman," Audrina explained, raising an eyebrow with amusement. "Anyway. He's a good man. And Brigid was a good woman. It's a shame the curse did what it did to his lovely young wife, too."
Helena shifted in her seat, still a little discomfited by the topic of her ancestor. "I almost feel like it's my fault," she said, biting her lip. "Like I came back here to take her place, or something. Which makes no sense, I know. It's not like I came here on purpose."
"How did you get here?" Karin asked, curiosity on her face. "Everyone's story is a little different. Were you in Scotland already?"
"Yeah, I was staying in the village, actually. The little bed and breakfast —"
"Oh my God! I stayed there!" Delilah's eyes were wide. "I was here to study the ruins of the castle — I'm a folklorist," she explained. "What were you doing?"
"Well, I was on holiday, technically," Helena explained. It felt strange to talk about her real life in the past tense. "But I was interested in exploring the network of caves in the sandstone cliffs nearby, so I headed over to check them out. Long story short… I got stuck, called for help, decided to take a nap while I was waiting for help to arrive… then I woke up in the middle of nowhere on the moors. It was dark and cold, I started walking… found some sheep… then ran into Brendan, I guess. Saw some weird stuff, though." She shivered, remembering the bizarre creature she'd seen in the fog. The memory was one she'd been trying not to think about too much. It was too strong an indicator that there was something wrong with her mind… but Audrina looked curious.
"What did you see?"
"Oh, nothing. Just the fog playing tricks on me, I think." She sighed, wanting to change the subject. "Anyway, I can't help thinking that if I'd just been sensible and waited until the next day to go and look at the caves, none of this would be happening."
But Marianne was frowning. "What caves, exactly? I know the sandstone cliffs you're talking about, I ride up there all the time, but I've never seen any caves."
"There's a whole network of them," Helena said blankly. "They run really deep. Not sure how deep — that's what I came here to find out, actually. You seriously never found them?" The entrance to the caves hadn't exactly been hidden. But Marianne looked mystified.
"Definitely not. I looked, too. Got caught in a rainstorm on a ride once — would've been great to have some shelter, but there was nothing. Just the sandstone walls of the cliffs."
"Is that what you did as a job, Helena?" That was Karin, leaning forward curiously. "Cave exploration?"
She laughed. "Not exactly. I'm a geologist. Spelunking is more of a hobby than anything."
"Fascinating," Karin said thoughtfully. "A geologist. That'll round out our numbers nicely."
"You worked for the CDC, right?" Helena leaned forward, interested to know what these women had done with themselves back in the future. "Delilah was a folklorist, Audrina was a nurse, Cora was a midwife."
"I was an archeologist, but I've become somewhat of an inventor here," Fiona said with a toss of her bright red hair. "The improvements around here are all thanks to me — you're welcome…"
"And I'm a soldier," Bethany said steadily. "That doesn't go away."
"Marianne?"
"Technically, I was a phone psychic," Marianne said with some amusement. "My magic's a lot stronger than that these days, though."
Helena hesitated, thrown off a little by that. "Magic?"
"Oh, yeah. I do a bit of that too, so does Audrina," Fiona said brightly, reaching out to take Marianne's hand in hers with a cheeky expression on her face. "We're coven mates."
"Seriously?"
"Do you really not think magic's real? How did you think you got here?" Fiona asked, tilting her head to the side. "From what I hear, Brigid had a touch of the gift as well."
"What?" Helena's jaw dropped. "She was… a witch?"
"Witches are only witches if they're doing it on purpose," Marianne said with a shrug. "I'm a witch and so is Fiona. But Brigid, from what we can gather… well, she had a gift she might have been able to cultivate, given the right guidance. But that was all."
"Does that mean I have it?" Helena said blankly, staring down at her hands and wondering, crazily, if she could summon a fireball or something. "That I could do magic, if I wanted? Does it run in families? She's like my great great-great-great-great-whatever grandmother, right?"
The two women exchanged looks. "It does run in families," Marianne said carefully.
Helena wondered briefly if that meant that Anne, Brigid's mother, had magical abilities, too. Maybe that would explain why she felt such guilt at her daughter having been hunted down like that…
"Does Brendan know?" she asked, blinking. "Or does he think the witch hunters were just being paranoid?"
"I don't know," Marianne said softly. "I wouldn't bring it up with him, though. He's still badly hurt by her loss."
"Of course," Helena said softly. "I wouldn't want to make him feel any worse." She sighed. "I guess my question is — what am I supposed to do with myself now?"
The women smiled sympathetically. "I know it's not much of an answer, but… whatever you want." Marianne shrugged. "We can try to teach you some magic, if you like. Or you can just focus on getting settled into the castle. It's useful to have hobbies, though."
"I wouldn't mind checking out those caves," Helena said thoughtfully. "I never did get to explore them properly… but I don't know how to ride a horse."
A grin spread across Marianne's face. "You want to learn to ride a horse? You've come to the right woman. I'll have you galloping across the moors in no time."
"Might be worth checking in with Donal before you go riding off into the middle of nowhere," Fiona interjected. "He's been fretting about animal attacks out that way recently. Best to get his permission before you go riding off or I'll never hear the end of it. Good excuse to meet him, too. He's curious about you," she added, giving Helena a grin. "You should tell him about all these mysterious caves."
They kept chatting and laughing over lunch, and by the time they all parted ways, Helena was feeling a lot better about her place here. These women really did know what she was going through… it felt good not to be alone. And the prospect of learning to ride a horse, of having a bit of mobility… she was looking forward to that a lot. Maybe she'd even end up mapping the caves the way she'd wanted to.
Maybe there was room for a geologist in Castle MacClaran after all.
Chapter 9
After lunch, Fiona took her by the hand and led her up the winding staircases, insisting on introducing her to the Laird. But they were thwarted in this — apparently he'd ridden out to investigate a complaint from a local farmer and wouldn't be back until the morning. Fiona, exasperated, promised to come and fetch Helena straight after breakfast the next morning to bring her to the Laird to ask about the caves. She was happy enough to comply — after all,
she'd need a little bit of time to start learning about how to ride a horse. No good having permission to go and explore the caves when she didn't even have a way of getting there.
Marianne took her down to the stables to pick out a horse, settling on a placid old black mare who nuzzled softly at her hand. For Helena, who'd really only seen horses in movies, it was quite a learning experience… but she had to admit, once she was up on the horse's back — after a rather embarrassing scramble from a block — it was a lot easier than she'd thought. It was all about moving with the horse's momentum, making it as easy as possible for the animal to move unimpeded. They spent the afternoon working on walking around the courtyard of the castle. It felt good to be out in the weak sunshine — though it was late autumn and very cold, the feeling of the sun on her skin was still very pleasant, and she realized that a big part of the depression she'd been feeling over the last few days may well have had something to do with a lack of vitamin D.
Plus, it was exciting to be looking around the castle out in the courtyard. There were huge stone walls around her, and she could make out the guards standing idly by as they watched the surrounding countryside. Marianne explained that her husband was Captain of the Guard — a huge bear-like figure gave them a wave from the top of the wall, and Marianne promised to introduce them properly later. It was incredible, how many of the Clan had been affected by this terrible curse. Helena was still trying to work out the timeframe — how many more women like her were likely to be brought back through time to replace lost women? Would she be the last one? She hoped so. She wouldn't wish this kind of thing on anyone.
By the time the sun was setting, she felt comfortable enough on horseback to feel okay about making the trek out to the caves the next day. Marianne agreed she was doing well, complimenting her riding and promising that they'd move on to some faster gaits later — for now, getting good at walking was enough. They headed inside, pleasantly warm and sore from the afternoon's exertions.
"Now all you need is for Delilah to teach you how to fight with a sword and you'll be a proper knight," Marianne told her with a grin.
Helena blinked. "Delilah can fight with a sword?"
"Oh, yes. She was one of those medieval enthusiasts — you know those people who do re-enactments and stuff?"
"Oh my God, she was a LARPer? My sister was super into that for a few months." Helena couldn't stop herself from laughing. "Oh my God! I bet it took her ages to believe she was actually here and not just in some elaborate game…"
"It really did." Marianne chuckled. "What are the odds, hey?"
"At least she had some useful skills to bring with her." Helena sighed. "I know a lot about geology, but none of it is exactly useful information. Unless you want to know how old a rock is… and even then I'd need some special tools to do any kind of specific dating…"
"You don't have to be useful, okay? Just — be here," Marianne said firmly. "Listen, when I got here I was petrified of being useless. I was a phone psychic, remember? Imagine trying to transfer those skills to the medieval era. But I found my place here, same as everyone else. You'll find yours too. You just have to be patient."
"Fine." Helena sighed.
They headed into the dining hall for dinner — the smell of roast meat was making her stomach growl, and she realized it had been a long time since dinner. She sat with Marianne and Cora — Audrina had excused herself to sit with her husband for once, joking that he was missing her — but found herself yawning before the meal was over.
"It definitely makes you sleepy," Marianne said with some amusement as Helena fought to stifle a yawn. "Horse riding, I mean. You'll get a good night's sleep tonight."
"Good," she said firmly. "Because I refuse to fall asleep in those caves again. Who knows when I'll wake up this time? Probably in caveman times. I'll have to learn to speak caveman." She tilted her head, frowning a little. "That reminds me. It's kind of a dumb question, but… how come I can understand everyone?"
Marianne smiled. "I was wondering if you'd notice that."
"Yeah. It's weird, right? If we're hundreds of years in the past… I mean, English doesn't seem like it changes that much, but it really, really does. Everyone sounds … well, more or less modern. Even the people who were born and raised here."
"Marianne has a theory," Cora said with a smile.
"I think it's more than a theory. It's pretty obviously just — the truth," Marianne objected. "We were brought here by magic, right? I think the same magic is doing a little bit of … translation, kind of thing. Just adjusting things… so that they understand us, and we understand them."
"That's weird," Helena said thoughtfully.
"Like a universal translator in Star Trek," Cora said with a giggle. "Or a Babelfish. God, I miss books sometimes. I hope the next woman who comes back here has an ebook reader on her…"
"It would run out of batteries, and then where would you be?"
Helena smiled, but it wasn't long before she had to excuse herself. She traipsed up the stairs toward her bedroom, yawning profusely, regretting that she'd had to skip dessert… but there was just no getting away from how exhausted she was. Her room felt much warmer and more home-like than it had the last few days, and she undressed quickly, excited to sink into the warm embrace of the bed. She was even getting used to not being able to have a proper shower. Was it really possible that she could adjust to this strange new life? Possibly, she told herself drowsily as she drifted toward sleep. Definitely possible… at least for the time being. She could do this. She could live here, for a little while… at least until she found a way back home.
She fell deeply asleep… but this time her rest wasn't dreamless. It wasn't long before she was walking through the fog again, just like she had been on that first night. Helplessly lost, with her dress flapping around her ankles — she realized she was wearing the dress that Brendan had given her, the one that had belonged to his wife. But something was wrong with it… it was scorched and blackened, covered in burn marks, for all the world as though she'd been wearing it when they'd burned her at the stake… horrified, she tore at the dress, trying to remove it, but the icy tendrils of fog plucked her hands away and she shivered, heading on through the fog. She needed to get somewhere… needed to find someone… it was so desperately important that she find them that she couldn't even remember who they were. Who she was… it was a she, that was all she knew.
Shapes and figures kept lurching up out of the fog. She saw the castle, all aglow in the distance, the fog dancing around its walls before it claimed it again and hid it completely from view. She saw the old black mare she'd been riding today, her eyes rolling uneasily as the fog embraced her… she saw Brendan, ten feet away, standing over something on the ground. She called out to him, but he didn't seem to hear her — and when she got closer, she saw that he was standing by a gravestone, his face wreathed in tears. The fog darted and played around the grave… she saw first Brigid's names, then — her heart lurched — her own name… before it was replaced again by Brigid's. Then Brendan turned to look at her… but before he could speak, he was gone, evaporated into tendrils of fog.
She kept moving through the fog, trying to run though the ground was dragging her down, almost as though the mud was sucking at her feet, trying to drag her under. She was getting close, she could sense it… she knew she was about to reach the person she was searching for, the reason she was out here, the woman she so desperately needed to see… she was moving through strange, soft shapes now, the height of her hips, and she looked down in confusion to realize that sheep were running around her. Not around her… past her. Toward the direction she'd come from — for all the world as though they were running in fear from whatever she was walking toward. Nearly there… nearly there… she tried to speed up, so desperate to see her…
And then she found her.
"There you are," she heard herself say, and the voice wasn't her own. "I've been looking for you —"
"Brigid. Brigid, my
darling, you've finally come back. I knew they couldn't keep you from me… knew we wouldn't be apart…"
The voice wasn't human. It was high and frightening, like the sound of a wet fingertip on the edge of a wineglass… and the eyes she was looking into barely seemed human, either. They were deep black, like an animal's eyes, like the eyes of a bear… but this was no bear. It was an enormous, vaguely humanoid shape, clad in what looked like badly stitched together skins, with stringy white hair hanging around its face and a mouth full of sharp, serrated teeth. And it was reaching for her… reaching out with arms that were tipped with long, sharp talons, talons dripping blood… she could see, at the creature's feet, a dozen corpses piled up, dead baby lambs with great wounds ripped in their bellies…
Then she woke up, breathing hard, a scream dying on her lips as the nightmare faded from her vision. It was dawn… the room was filling with gray light. She was alone. Not in the embrace of a monster, not walking through the fog alone… it had just been a dream that was all. Just a dream… a dream about a burned dress, and a gravestone, and a monster eight feet tall…
But she knew, with a sick certainty deep in the pit of her stomach, that the creature she had seen in the dream was the same as the thing she'd seen that first night, preying on the sheep. What the hell could it have been? It was enormous… some kind of bear? It wasn't a human that was obvious. For all the tricks that the fog and her eyes had played on her… no, it was some kind of animal that was all. Maybe it was a bear. A sick bear, certainly, but… she bit her lip, wishing she knew a little more about animals. In her dream, the creature had been clad in skins. And it had spoken to her. It had called her by Brigid's name. Could this be meaningful, in some way? Could this be the kind of dream the other women had told her about — a message, perhaps, from her ancestor?
But what did it mean? What was she supposed to do about it? Some terrible monster, preying on lambs… did that symbolize something, or anything? She ground her teeth. Dream analysis had never been something she was interested in. Dreams were just your subconscious mind worrying away at whatever was bothering you… and sure enough, plenty of things were bothering her. But could it mean more than that? After all, she had to contend with the very real fact that magic was now something to worry about. What if these were magical dreams?
Highlander Hunted: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Highlander In Time Book 8) Page 7