Contents
TITLE PAGE
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Thanks For Reading
GRACE UNCHAINED
PHOENIX THRONE BOOK FIVE
HEATHER WALKER
Copyright © 2018 Heather Walker
Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.
Chapter 1
“Just what exactly do you think you’re doing?” Mike Spencer’s voice echoed down the phone line into Grace’s ear.
“I told you,” she replied. “I’m just out taking a walk.”
“Well, get back home this minute,” he snapped. “It’s almost dinnertime, and you’re out there doing God knows what.”
“I told you what I’m doing,” Grace replied. “There’s a container of pasta in the fridge. You can warm that up until I get home.”
A terrible silence boomed down the phone. Grace cringed to hear what he would say.
He lowered his voice to a rumble. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I want you to hang up and walk back home right now, Grace. That’s an order.”
“I’m going to finish taking my walk,” she told him. “I’ll be home soon. Don’t worry.”
She hung up before he could say anything and ducked out of the phone booth. She knew he would react like that, but she had to do this. She’d never stepped out of her safe, comfortable little life before. That’s why he prized her. She always got home before him so she could get dinner on the table exactly at six o’clock every evening.
Mike worked as District Manager in the same education administration office as Grace. They met there right after college, got married, and that’s as far as it ever went. They were two peas in a pod, neither venturing beyond the bounds of their neat little box. They confirmed each other in their opinions and warned each other against taking any risks.
So what was Grace doing walking the streets at five-forty-five on a Tuesday evening? What was she doing heading in the opposite direction of her house? Mike would never forgive her for this, but she couldn’t turn back now.
She walked to the end of the sidewalk. Across the street, Finlay Park spread its manicured lawns up past the kids’ playground, the Rose Garden, and the Aviary. Grace knew them all well. Before today, she never set foot off the concrete paths between them.
Today, they no longer interested her. Her eye swept up the hillside behind the park where dense woods darkened the flanks of Mount Kilmog. Her heart stirred when she looked at it.
She crossed the street taking extra care to look both ways. She passed the Rose Garden. Her pulse quickened when she came to the Aviary tucked under the hill. Just for today, she would break out of her constricting mold to experience something Mike would never understand.
She’d never considered her constricting life until today. She never dared believe she could function outside her normal routine of home, office, movie theater every Saturday, and Mike’s golf club on Sundays. So what happened?
Hazel Green happened. Mike let her go to Hazel’s to visit her friends. Hazel roped them all into trying her latest experiment. Hazel fascinated Grace. Hazel would try anything. She would hazard any crazy idea, just to experience something different. Hazel dabbled in everything. She never gave a second thought to her reputation or her job or what anybody thought of her.
Grace could never do that. She dared not even dream about doing something as audacious as casting a magic spell. She went along with this wacky escapade only because Carmen Hendrix, Elle Watson, and Sadie Cole went along with it. If those three thought it was a good idea, it must be. Nobody could put one over on them.
To Grace’s amazement, the spell actually worked—well, it didn’t exactly work, but it did something. A flash of light pulsed through the room, and Grace found herself walking through the woods in broad daylight.
That was last night—or what should have been last night.
She walked behind the Aviary where the concrete path changed to bare dirt. The path wound up the hillside into the dark forest. Grace’s breath shortened. Her skirt swished against her knees. She still wore the pantyhose and business suit she had on when Hazel cast that spell, but she wore no shoes. She’d left them sitting in a corner at Hazel’s house, and Grace hadn’t returned to her own home to get a new pair since the whole thing happened.
The moist soil underfoot gave her a delightful little thrill. Mike would flip if he saw her walking around the woods in her stocking feet, especially now that so much walking wore holes in her heels. Grace didn’t care—at least, she didn’t care enough to turn back. She climbed halfway up the mountain before she turned aside.
No path broke off the main walkway to show her where to go. She didn’t need to know where to go. She entered the trees and pushed her way through the undergrowth. She didn’t really pay attention where she went, as long as her path led away from people and everything about them. That’s one thing she’d learned since last night.
She hiked for over an hour until she found a spot that would work. She paused to catch her breath. She wasn’t used to this kind of exertion. She surveyed the forest all around her until she spied a shadow behind a tree trunk. She fixed her eyes on it for a moment.
She stilled her breath and her thumping heart. Her mind concentrated on the shadow, and her vision blurred for an instant. When she blinked, she wasn’t in the forest anymore. She stood in a rolling grassy dell in a valley between two towering mountain ranges surrounding the spot on both sides. A curving stream ran along her righthand side, and leafy trees crowded its banks.
Grace sighed in deep contentment. The magic never failed her, no matter how many times she tried it. She crossed the dell. A hollow dropped off at the far end, and a scattered collection of crude dwellings clustered around its bottom. A gust of wind shook the trees along the stream, but it didn’t disturb the village here.
Grace smiled down on the scene. The sun shone on the hardened dirt paths between the dwellings. Their rough thatch glowed gold in the light. Kids and dogs and chickens clacked and shouted and barked between the walls of mud and stone.
To Grace’s left, a woman leaned over a wooden tub. She wore her skirts tucked up into her apron strings, and her rolled-up sleeves showed her bare arms. The woman sweated as she pounded laundry against a board, and the sound beat through the village.
Hazel’s spell transported Grace here the first time. Since then, she re
entered the woods four times. Each time, she found the doorway and passed through it, back to her own home in America. She returned through the same opening somewhere in the woods behind Finlay Park, and she always wound up back in this village.
She returned the last time to call Mike and tell him she wouldn’t be home in time for dinner. She only meant to put his mind at rest, but for some reason it only made him more agitated.
She knew he would get upset, but for some reason, she couldn’t stay away. She loved this village beyond rationality. She never wanted to go back to the world of computers and insurance payments and mortgages. She would gladly stay here for the rest of her life.
She strolled through the village. Women smiled at her. The men nodded to her and went back to their work. The kids and dogs and chickens paid her no attention at all.
She came to the center of the village. A round planter constructed of stone marked the spot. The planter occupied a circle about ten feet across, and most of the houses faced it. Rough stone masonry formed the planter’s walls and created a bench. A few herbs and flowers grew out of the soil in the center.
Grace sat down on the wall and let the peaceful scene wash all her cares away. She could come here whenever she wanted, and it always welcomed her with open arms. Granted, none of the people really talked to her. The first time she appeared here, they asked who she was and where she came from. After they heard her accent and realized she wasn’t from any world they could understand, they avoided her.
She didn’t care about that, either. This was her home—her real home. This poor village was more her home than that house she shared with Mike. She never wanted to leave, but she already knew she would. She had to go back to Mike sometime—just not now. She wanted to savor this moment as long as she could, to soak the tranquility and carefree simplicity into every pore.
Why couldn’t she live like this? Why couldn’t she change out of her business suit into a plain linen dress? Why couldn’t she scrub the laundry and cook over an open fire? What was stopping her? I mean, what was really stopping her?
She’d always avoided the natural world before. She avoided dirt and wilderness like the plague. What was she thinking, even considering making a life up to her eyelids in it? Those kids running around faced disease, hunger, and winter cold.
While she sat there, a bunch of men gathered from all over the village. They clustered around the planter, but they showed no sign of seeing Grace. They pretended she didn’t exist.
They all wore kilts made of the same forest-green plaid wool. They wore thick leather belts, and they carried all manner of weapons—swords, battle axes, clubs, and even a few spears.
The biggest man set his battle axe on the wall right next to Grace while he buckled his saber around his waist. A small leather purse hung over his crotch, and it swung back and forth with his movements when he walked.
“Ye lads gang ye down the river tae the ford,” he told his friends. “Make sure ye ha’e at least one horse wi’ ye tae send word up ’ere tae gi’e a warnin’. Do ye hear me, Malcolm, or are ye too lost in yer plans fer yer new fishin’ boat tae save yer own life?”
A younger man grumbled in response. “I hear ye, but where am I tae get the horse? Forsythe has ta’en his team down the brae tae plow the fell, and Donnell has gone tae trade in Glencoe. Marri doesnae expect him back afore nightfall at the earliest, perhaps morning or e’en tomorrow evenin’.”
The first man sliced his finger through the air. “Gang ye down tae the ford. Albert, ye mun’ head tae the fell and fetch a horse from Forsythe. He’ll plow wi’ one horse if he mun’, but he’ll no leave the village unguarded at a time like this. Merrick, ye mun’ take three stout lads and block the channel from o’er the Lieth. Make sure none can enter that way, and Keith, ye and yer brothers mun’ station aboot the village. Ye mun’ patrol the dell and keep a sharp lookout in case any o’ ’em sneak past our sentries.”
“Aye, Jock,” another man murmured. “Where’ll ye be in case we need ye?”
“I’m goin’ up the heath tae find Dick and Leslie. Then we’ll head tae the mountain in search o’ that swab Piper. Ye mun’ hold the place ’til I return. Can I count on ye lads tae manage that?”
The others chorused, “Aye.”
“Gang away wi’ ye, then,” Jock replied, and the party broke up.
Their departure cast the first shadow over Grace’s contentment. In the time she’d spent in this village, that was the first sign of trouble she’d witnessed. What were those men doing? She hadn’t understood half of what they’d said, but they obviously wanted to guard the village from something. They armed themselves to the teeth, and no one could mistake the urgency in their voices.
Even after they left, Jock’s strained features haunted Grace. He scowled at everything when he scanned his surroundings in search of any threat, and he kept clenching and unclenching his jaw. His rapid orders set his companions on edge. They were worried. None of them could be completely confident they could defend the village from whatever they thought might be creeping up on them.
Chapter 2
Jamie Cameron inhaled a deep breath and sighed. The sun shining on the trees and grassy banks never looked so good. He never should have stayed away so long. He set off down the brae. Years of boyhood happiness came back to him. He played in these fells, built forts in the woods, fished in these rivers, and followed his brothers on countless adventures over heath and heather.
This was his place, his own home, the land belonging to his Clan. He knew everyone in every house from here to the open sea, and he couldn’t wait to see them again.
He took his time wandering down the river toward his home village of Kinlochleven. One of these days, he would have to go back to Urlu to rejoin his brothers. When that happened, he had no way of knowing when he would ever return to this old country he knew so well. He wanted to savor every moment of his time here. He wanted to imprint it into his memory so he never forgot it.
He spotted his cousins Malcom and Daniel by the ford. He took a step forward to hail them, but something in their expressions killed the words on his lips. He hovered in the shadows and watched them for a minute.
They carried weapons. That was unusual, and they kept casting fleeting glances, first uphill toward the village, and then the opposite way over the ford. They murmured to each other in low whispers, and they stole uncertain looks around the woods in anxious anticipation of something. They didn’t look happy and carefree the way Jamie remembered them.
He backed away into the woods. He continued on his way to the village, but the sight dampened his happiness. Something was going on. What was it?
He got as far as the hill overlooking to hollow before he stopped. The same old village spread out before him. The same kids and dogs and chickens ran around flapping their mouths. That much never changed. His heart burst with love for the place. He spent more time here in his youth than at his father’s castle some distance up the Leith. Once he got old enough to move around on his own, he ate and slept in these houses more than his own.
He strolled into the village and headed for the nearest house. He planned this months in advance, though he never told his brother Callum this was what he planned to do. He rehearsed this moment a thousand times in his private moments. He replayed every sensation, every shade of facial expression and emotion.
He entered the doorway of the tumbledown cottage. The lintel over the door still sagged in its socket where the mortar started to give way. The roof needed thatching, and the rotten spot near the back corner showed more daylight than he remembered.
A young woman kneaded dough on a hewn wooden table near the fire. She cast one glance up from her work when Jamie appeared, but she never missed a beat in her kneading.
“Hello, Marri,” he murmured.
“I always kenned ye’d come back one day, Jamie Cameron,” she replied. “I always kenned ye’d show up at my door just like that.”
He eased over to the table and buri
ed his nose in her neck. “Did ye miss me, Marri? I missed ye so terrible I’d like tae die withoot ye. I dreamed o’ seein’ ye again just like this.”
She slammed the dough into a wooden bowl and carried it around the table, away from him. She set the bowl on the hearth, punched the dough down with all her might, and covered it with a towel.
“Ye cinnae ha’e missed me o’ermuch, fer ye ha’e no sent word tae tell me whether ye were alive or dead, these two laing years.”
“Two years!” he exclaimed. “Is it that laing we ha’e been gone.”
“Aye, it has,” she replied, “and wi’ the whole countryside sayin’ ye and yer brothers were dead on the heath somewhere, I had no time tae miss ye fer keeping body and soul taegether fer all that.”
Jamie straightened up. “Weel, this is a fine homecomin’ fer a mon that’s been gone two years. Ye hadnae e’en kissed me since I set foot in yer hoose.”
She leveled her clear brown eyes at him, exactly the way he remembered her. “I’ll ne’er kiss ye again, Jamie Cameron. I’m married tae Daniel and expectin’ me first bairn come the springtime. Right glad I am tae see ye alive and weel and as full o’ brass as e’er, but it’s two laing years since I ha’e seen ye alive, and I couldnae wait fer a man as like tae be dead.”
Jamie reeled against the table. “Daniel!”
“He’s a livin’ mon, Jamie,” she replied. “He’s alive and he’s ’ere in this village while ye’re out somewhere else. The heavens ainly ken what ye done since ye ha’e been gone, and I dinnae want tae ken. It’s enough tae ha’e a livin’ mon in me hoose withoot ye tae haunt me.”
He turned away from the sting of her words. Never in all the months since he left this country did he ever consider she might find someone else, that she might not want to wait forever for him to come back and claim her.
What was he thinking all this time? He certainly wasn’t thinking of marrying her and taking her home to Urlu. He never dreamed of telling her he was a dragon. His brothers married human women, but Carmen and her friends weren’t normal Highland maids like Marri—not by a mile.
Grace Unchained - Phoenix Throne Book Five Page 1