“Put him on the bed,” Lair said as she rushed in.
Beyond grateful to see her, Jackie made Robert comfortable and took the rag Lair handed her. “As soon I pull the dagger free, press down hard on the wound.”
She nodded, sick with worry as Lair started chanting then swiftly pulled the blade out. Jackie pressed the rag against the wound as Darach’s sister closed her eyes and kept chanting softly. Meanwhile, William stood at the foot of the bed, brows furrowed and a deep frown on his face as he eyed Robert. Eventually, Lair stopped chanting and opened her eyes.
“He will recover,” she said softly. “Remove the rag.”
Being extra careful, Jackie pulled the rag back and was shocked by what she found. Though the wound was still there, it wasn’t nearly as bad as before. It looked as if it had been healing for days. Lair pulled a pouch out of her pocket and applied a green herbal mixture before she wrapped the wound with a fresh bandage.
Nicole stood by the window with a troubled look in her eyes. “How safe are we here, Lair?”
“’Tis the safest spot in the castle,” Lair replied as she pulled a blanket over Robert. “’Tis why Darach wanted the wee King brought here.”
Jackie’s heart caught in her throat when she joined Nicole and looked outside. Though the enemy had been pushed back, many Hamilton warriors had fallen. Darach and his cousins were with Grant and Heidrek on the battlements as the battle raged in the sky.
“Is it just me or are there a lot more warriors in the courtyard than before?” Nicole said. “And not our enemies but allies.”
Lair nodded as she joined them. “Aye, warriors from the Thomson and Broun clans came to help.”
“Aye?” William peered out. “The Thomson’s are Lilas and Dougal’s clan. How did they know to be here?”
“They are an allied clan. Though Lilas and Dougal are from a different era, they came to the aid of their own.” Lair glanced at Nicole and Jackie. “As did the Brouns.”
“I’ll be damned,” Nicole whispered.
Jackie looked to the sky when a strange sensation rolled through her. The dragons seemed to be holding their own as they fought the Genii Cucullati. But then it looked like Heidrek was helping them. Arms raised in the air, the dragon tattoo on his neck glowed brightly as he chanted. Whatever he was doing appeared to wrap inclement weather around the spirits, making them teeter and twist as they fought.
Meanwhile, Eoghan kept at those on the battlements.
Yet Lair saw it for what it was. “Och,” she murmured. “The Genii Cucullati are keeping the dragons, and Viking seer distracted. Less for the demi-god to deal with.”
Fear spiked when she realized what was happening beyond the castle gates.
Death was spreading.
Literally.
The moat had gone dry, and the grass started to die in a wide arc around the castle. Even the trees began turning brown as their leaves fell.
“It’s the Otherworld,” Jackie and Nicole whispered at the same time.
“How is this possible?” Jackie said. It appeared all the Hamilton warriors and their allies were inside the gates. Thank God.
Lair didn’t answer. Hands white-knuckling the windowsill, her eyes were trained on Grant and Darach. Alarmed, Jackie watched as Eoghan continued to battle the wizards. Specifically, Darach and his father.
Yet Eoghan spoke to her.
“Where are ye, my lass?” he whispered into her mind. “Why will ye no’ come with me? ‘Twould release all these people from harm. They would forever be protected by my overlord, and we would be free to live the life stolen from us.”
“Och, your ring, m’Lady,” William said.
It again twirled with blue and black.
“If I go to him I can save everyone,” she whispered.
“Heck no.” Nicole shook her head. “He tried that trick on Erin and I, so don’t believe it for a sec.”
“Yeah, but you weren’t actually involved with him in another life,” Jackie argued.
“Da told me everything.” Lair frowned as her eyes met Jackie’s. “Dinnae be foolish, lass. You’d do well to remember who our enemy serves. If ye go to him, the only end that will come is yer happiness and the lives of everyone ye love. And dinnae think for a moment ‘twill go any other way once he has yer ring.”
Lair’s voice grew softer. “The Celtic demon will never let Eoghan keep ye. Tis wishful thinking. You’ve already escaped his clutches once and have the unique power to resurrect. He will keep you for his own purposes. Just imagine what he could do with such a thing.”
Deep down, she knew Darach’s sister was right, but that didn’t make it any easier. Especially when Lair’s gaze shifted sharply to the battlement, and she whispered, “Nay, Da.”
Eoghan now focused the entirety of his wrath on Darach, and it wasn’t going well. Despite how hard he tried to hold up his sword, it fell from his hands. Terrified, numbness spread through her as blackness thrashed at him and he dropped to his knees in pain.
“No,” she cried and gripped the windowsill.
She had to help him somehow. There had to be a way. She couldn’t lose him. Not yet. They were too connected. Then it occurred to her.
Maybe she could use that connection.
So she tried something different and prayed it would work. She allowed her anxiety and fear to completely take over until she had no sensation. Then she focused hard and willed her numbness into his mind.
“Nay, lass,” he whispered. “Get out of my head. Dinnae do this.”
Lair’s eyes widened. “Lass, if ye continue what yer doing, ye will switch yer sensations and take his pain as yer own.”
“That’s what I’m hoping,” she whispered.
“Bloody hell,” Lair muttered.
Seconds later, excruciating pain tore through her. It felt like a thousand bees stung her all at once from the inside out. She threw her head back and wailed. Her muscles felt like they’d been separated from her bones and every inch of her skin was being ripped off.
She would have fallen had Nicole and Lair not braced her up. Even William wrapped his arms around her and held on tight. Darach remained immobile, but at least now he wasn’t suffering. She tried to focus on that as tears poured down her face.
“Nay, Da,” Lair said again, distress twisting her features as her eyes remained on the battlements. “Dinnae do it.”
Soon enough, it became clear what Lair sensed. Grant stepped in front of Darach and took the demi-god’s wrath. Jackie’s pain vanished, and though she knew Darach was no longer immobile, his father still held him back with magic.
What happened next was explosive. Terrifying. Near blinding.
When Grant’s magic crashed against the demi-god’s, it seemed to do them both a great deal of harm. Bluish gray wind wrapped and twisted around the black cloud and almost seemed to strangle it.
At first.
Then blackness seeped through Grant’s blue magic and wrapped like a tornado around it. The ground shook. Darach roared but was drowned out by a loud boom. It was so strong that its shockwave blew Jackie’s hair back.
A strangled sound came from Lair as not only the demi-god and Genii Cucullati, but Grant vanished. There was nothing left but ashes and a few scraps of plaid blowing in the wind.
“It’s okay. Grant’s okay,” Nicole said, her words stunted. “The same thing happened to Rònan before he ended up in the Celtic Otherworld...alive.”
“Nay,” Lair whispered, tears streaking her cheeks. “That was true death. There can be no doubt. He is my Da, and I’m a healer. We know things about the human body that others dinnae. How its life force works.”
Jackie kept shaking her head, her eyes locked on Darach who remained on his knees, trembling as he stared at his father’s ashes. This couldn’t be happening. Grant could not be gone. She tore her eyes from Darach and took Lair’s hand. “Go be with your family. I’ll stay with Robert.”
“Nay.” Lost, Lair’s eyes met hers. “Darach need
s his wife. Go to him.”
When Jackie started to argue, Lair shook her head sharply. “Dinnae make me ask again.” She pulled away and though shaky, sat beside Robert. “All of ye go, please. I need some time alone.”
Speechless, Jackie kept staring at Lair.
“Come on, sweetie. She needs space, and I don’t blame her,” Nicole said softly as she took Jackie’s hand and pulled her along. “You too, William. Let’s go.”
Everything seemed surreal as Nicole led her out a different door. They traveled down several sets of stairs and long hallways before they came to a wide set of stairs that led down to the center of a massive great hall. She’d never seen anything so spacious.
“Dear God...where am I?” she whispered as her eyes floated over the vaulted, cathedral-like gothic ceilings and hundreds of tall, thin stain-glassed windows. It was stunning. Remarkable.
“You’re still in your new home.” Nicole led her downstairs. “This is the heart of Hamilton Castle. Unbelievable, isn’t it?”
Jackie nodded and kept walking as if lost in a haunted fairy tale that mixed a beautiful beginning with a terrible end. In an alternate reality, living in a place like this with a man like Darach would have been magical. A dream come true. But now it was shrouded in sadness. A nightmare. Because dreams didn’t begin knowing you are dying, and they certainly didn’t come to life with death, be it Grant’s or the others who lost their lives today.
Blood stained the ground, and the crowd was somber as they filtered through the courtyard. Her eyes went to the fallen who wore Hamilton plaids. Thankfully, she saw none that matched the Broun or Thomson colors. Still, the further she walked, the more upset she grew. And of course, the more numb she became. She didn’t want to find forgiveness in this slaughter. Instead, she allowed rage and heartache to fill her.
By the time she made it to the stairs leading up to the battlements, her feet were tingling, and angry heat filled her veins. A feeling she remembered all too well. And though she started to hear murmurs of amazement filter through the crowd, she never looked back as she climbed the stairs.
Speckled with blood and eyes damp with sadness, Darach’s cousin Machara stood at the top. She lowered her head, stepped aside and murmured, “He’s over there.”
Darach still knelt but sat back on his heels with his shoulders slumped, and his head hung. Not only his cousins but several uncles stood behind him with their heads bent. She had met them all before. Colin MacLomain, Bradon, Malcolm and Colin MacLeod. Those who had been part of the Next Generation.
Grant’s generation.
But where was Sheila? Jackie’s heart broke for her.
Yet right now, all she could focus on was Darach. His immense sadness. Their immense sadness. Because his grief was every inch hers. She said nothing but dropped to her knees in front of him. Half a breath later, she was in his arms. Face buried in her hair, he wrapped his arms around her tightly and held on as if she were the only thing grounding him.
He remained silent for a long time as he held her. His emotions shifted and fluctuated rapidly between sadness and anger. Incredible anger. And while she understood it, she refused to let it ravage him. So she pushed comforting thoughts into his mind. Ones that reminded him he wasn’t alone. He had his family, his clan and her. She reminded him how much love still surrounded him. How his father would want him to focus on that. How his father would want him to be strong rather than embrace bitterness.
Eventually, a soft but firm voice broke through everything.
“Son,” Sheila said. “It’s time for you to be strong. You’re laird now and must be with your people. Your clan.”
“I cannae,” he whispered into Jackie’s mind.
She pulled back, met his eyes and spoke aloud. “But you have to...for your dad.”
A different sort of sadness flickered in his eyes, and he shook his head.
“What is it?” she murmured.
He stared at her for a long moment. “I dreamt you died in my arms when I was laird.”
“That’s why you’ve avoided becoming laird for so long?” Emotion welled, and her throat thickened. “Because of me?”
When he nodded, she pushed aside her emotions and said what needed to be said. “Well, now you know I’m going to die either way.” She cupped his cheeks. “So it’s time to step up because it’s not about me anymore. Not in the least. Now it’s about doing right by your clan and being the man your father expects you to be.”
Their eyes held for several long moments before he nodded and kissed her palm, murmuring, “Aye then, lass.”
He pulled her up and looked at his mother, whispering, “I’m so verra sorry Ma.”
Sheila was pale and her eyes red-rimmed, but she stood tall. When he went to embrace her, she shook her head. “Not right now, Son. I’m okay.” She gestured at the crowd. “You are the Hamilton chieftain now and need to address your people. Though Jackie bolstered them considerably, they still mourn for your father...for all of us. They need to see that you’re well. That you can lead them.”
Confused, Jackie said, “How did I bolster them?”
A soft smile came to Sheila’s lips. “Though they don’t know who did it, you resurrected every fallen Hamilton warrior. Not the enemy...just your new clan.”
Shocked, she looked down into the courtyard. Sure as heck, every fallen Hamilton was standing. Some embraced their family while others their fellow soldiers.
“Bloody hell,” Darach whispered. “Thank you, Jackie.”
“I didn’t... I don’t...” She shook her head. “What I mean to say is I didn’t do it consciously so I’m not so sure you should thank me.”
“Nay, these men wouldnae be standing if you didnae feel great emotion for them.” He took her hand and met her eyes. “You should be verra proud of your gift, lass. ‘Tis part of who you are and brings great joy to those you touch.”
Jackie didn’t quite know what to say so merely nodded. Darach squeezed her hand and kissed her cheek before his eyes swept over the lifeless, dead land beyond the castle. His thoughts filtered down to two singular emotions.
Determination and a need for revenge.
His jaw clenched as his gaze went to his cousins. They seemed to understand because they nodded, their expressions just as fierce. Then his eyes met his mother’s. Sheila stood up a little taller and nodded as well.
He had an impregnable wall of support behind him.
Darach never released Jackie’s hand but walked to the edge of the battlement and faced the courtyard. The crowd quieted and a long moment passed before he spoke. She felt the air shift around them and knew he used magic to make sure everyone heard him.
“Let me begin by thanking each and every one of ye for fighting so well this day.” His gaze roamed the crowd as he made a point of meeting as many eyes as possible. “Not only my own kin but those of ye who are Broun and Thomson. ‘Twas admirable and willnae be forgotten by the Hamilton clan. We are kin and will always help if ye are ever in need.”
People cheered, but it was a low, tempered sound. One that bespoke underlying sadness. One that Darach now addressed.
“We lost a great man today.” She felt the surge of emotion he pushed down save for a small part. That came through clearly in the huskiness of his voice. “My Da not only led this clan to greatness but he loved ye with all his heart. Ye have been every inch his lifeblood for a verra long time.”
There were sniffles far and wide as Darach continued. “For too long now I have wondered if I could ever fill his shoes.” He shook his head. “And ‘twas not because he was such a powerful wizard but for another reason altogether.”
Jackie squeezed his hand when he paused and fought back another wave of emotion.
His eyes met hers, and he nodded before he continued speaking. “I might have grown up here, and ye are my kin, but ye didnae know my secret. The overwhelming, crippling anger I felt at how badly my Da was treated at this castle when he was but a young lad.” He shook his hea
d. “But it turns out I was wrong and have only just recently realized it. ‘Twas never this castle and certainly not this clan that bothered me. ‘Twas that monster Kier Hamilton, who festered here beforehand.”
“Aye, he was pure darkness,” many older clansmen murmured.
“But he isnae here anymore, and I dinnae intend to let any of his ilk infest the Hamilton’s again so long as I draw breath. So now I have to ask ye something because I willnae have it any other way...” The crowd grew very silent as he eyed them. “My Da became laird of this clan because he loved ye and ye loved him just the same. So in good conscience, I willnae take his place simply because I am his son.” Darach lowered to one knee and bent his head in respect. “I am yers only if ‘tis what ye truly want.”
It grew so quiet she didn’t dare breathe.
She knew the crowd wouldn’t shun him but would there be random murmurs of displeasure? After all, he’d just told them he had been angry for years. Though he made clear at whom, you never knew how people would take things.
“I for one would be honored to call ye Laird,” a woman called out. “Yer as good a lad as yer da ever was!”
Jackie’s brows perked when she spied the woman. Though older, there was no mistaking Kenzie. The teenage girl that young Grant had been so kind to in the cottage.
“Aye!” the crowd roared in response.
“Ye’ve a kind heart, Darach Hamilton,” someone called out.
“None kinder!” another said.
“Aye!” the crowd roared again.
“Ye are loyal to kin and a fierce warrior,” a man declared. “I would follow ye into battle always.”
Jackie recognized the man as Kenzie’s brother, Bryce.
“Aye!” the crowd roared in agreement.
The praise continued then shifted slightly.
“Och, and what a handsome laird ye’d make, Darach Hamilton,” a young woman called out.
“Aye, he’s mighty in battle and mighty in,” another started before Darach stood swiftly, pulled Jackie against his side and interrupted the woman with one simple, awkward word. “Wife.”
The crowd went silent and stared at them.
The MacLomain Series: Later Years - a Scottish Time Travel Romance Boxed Set Page 104