The Stone of Destiny

by Caroline Logan

  “Then Harris can take the last one,” muttered Ailsa.

  A disgruntled huff came from within Harris’s blankets. “Fine, but someone else better be making breakfast.”

  Chapter 30

  “Just admit it, Harris. You are lost.”

  They had been wandering around for a full day and a half. An imposing, rocky headland had blocked the road and Harris had decided it would be quicker to climb it rather than hike around it. Ailsa had spotted a carved sign stating that this particular path was called the ‘Devil’s Staircase’ but that did not deter Harris. When they’d reached the top, their chests heaving, they had realised what lay beyond was a confusing maze of caverns and ridges. They had done their best to navigate through them but whenever they thought they were descending; the ground would start to slope up again. Now they had come to a flat stretch of earth with a scorch mark Ailsa was sure she had seen before.

  “Oh, ye of little faith,” Harris scoffed. “I have simply, momentarily, misplaced our whereabouts.” Harris’s voice was confident, but he was chewing his bottom lip savagely.

  Ailsa gave him a withering glare. “You had better find them again.”

  He threw down his pack, grumbling. “You know, we got in that boat for you—”

  “What? There was a monster chasing us!” She dropped her bag beside his and poked him in the chest. Angus just slumped to the ground, content to let them bicker.

  “Chasing you,” Harris mouthed.

  The look she gave him promised retribution. He stepped closer and grabbed her hand.

  “I’m sorry.” The warmth of his palm against hers was enough to dispel the anger that had been building up. “I am worried we’re lost,” he admitted. “We’re tired and it doesn’t help that we’re going around in circles.” He kissed the back of Ailsa’s hand, making her stomach do a strange flip. “I’ll go and scout ahead if you two want to make some lunch?”

  She took in the surrounding boulders and foliage, suddenly aware of the sparse trees.

  “Fine. Don’t take too long, though.”

  He curled a finger under her chin, turning her face back towards him. His eyes were gentle as he lowered his voice. “It’s gone, Ailsa. Don’t worry.” Louder, he said, “Angus, you’ll protect our bodyguard here if any beasts come stumbling out of the trees?”

  “Sure thing. Leave it to me,” he answered from where he sat, although he lessened the sentiment by yawning.

  “Urgh, I don’t need protection,” she growled, snatching her hand away. She stalked over to Angus but did not sit down. Harris grinned at her before trekking over the next hill. Ailsa stuck her tongue out at his retreating back, the action calming her nerves.

  Stupid selkie, getting us lost, then insinuating that I—

  Her thoughts were interrupted by a hand on her knee. Angus sighed. “You know, Ailsa, we were just teasing. Do you want to practise your sword fighting while we wait for Harris?”

  She blew out a breath. “Yeah, fine.”

  They parried back and forth for a while; Angus shouting encouragements and Ailsa trying her hardest to whack him with her makeshift sword.

  It was getting easier to drive him back. She lunged with her right leg as she brought her sword down. Angus dropped, barely missing the blow, and kicked at her legs. She jumped and twisted to the side, meeting his wooden sword with hers as he attacked her. Breathing hard, she thrust out with the branch and caught him on his left shoulder.

  “I did it!” she shouted, triumphant.

  “Well done,” he chortled and stood up, leaning on his own stick. “You’re improving rapidly.” He dropped his practice weapon and rubbed his stomach. “I’m starving. Let’s eat. I’ve still got some of those eggs you found earlier.”

  Ailsa followed him to the middle of the small clearing. Something doesn’t feel right.

  “You didn’t… let me win… did you?”

  “Of course not.” He rummaged around in his pack and produced a flintstone. “You did great.”

  She crossed her arms as she watched him. “Hmm. It seems like you just wanted our fight to finish so you could have lunch.”

  He tsked at her and set about building a fire.

  She clenched her teeth for a moment and then moved a few feet away. “I think I’ll keep practising. Next time, I want to be sure I got you.”

  “Fine by me. Don’t forget to keep your elbows bent. You were locking them a few times during our spar.”

  She went through the drills he’d taught her; swinging her stick to her left shoulder, across her body, to her right shoulder, then thrusting out, over and over. The smell of eggs wafted over from the campfire, but she refused to acknowledge it, instead concentrating on her technique.

  All too soon, Angus called her to eat, so she finished the sequence and dropped the stick before flopping down on the ground in front of the fire.

  “You’re doing better. When we get back to Dunrigh, you should do some training with the castle guards.” He used a knife to unstick one egg from the heated rock he’d been using as a frying pan and slid it onto a tin plate before handing it to her.

  She pursed her lips. “They probably wouldn’t want to train me. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m only nineteen. Plus, people have a tendency to think I’m going to devour their souls or something.” Ailsa poked at the yolk, making it burst. “Besides, I don’t think I’ll be staying long once we retrieve the Stone.”

  He shrugged and scooped up his own egg. “Well, you’re welcome to. And they’ll do anything I tell them.”

  She groaned, in part from the thought of that and partly from the delicious taste of the egg as it hit her tongue.

  “That would be even worse. They’d hate me more if you forced them into it.”

  “Fine, I’ll just have to continue training you. Then we’ll have a huge tournament, and I’ll place all my bets on you, and you’ll make me lots of money.”

  She cocked an eyebrow at that. “Because no one else would bet on me?”

  He sighed. “It’s not my fault if people underestimate you. You should use it to your advantage.”

  She nodded slowly. He was right about that, but she wouldn’t be sticking around long enough in Dunrigh for anyone to find out. When she raised her eyes again, he was looking at her expectantly. She smiled, close-lipped, unwilling to shoot down his offer just now.

  “Only if you share your winnings with me.”

  “We have a deal.” Angus grinned and she noticed that he had a few bits of egg in his beard. She almost told him but decided it would be a small punishment for how trying he could be.

  She finished off her lunch before stretching and standing from her spot, cracking her back.

  “I think I’m going to go wash. I must be smelling a bit by now.”

  “No more than me.” Angus lifted an arm and sniffed audibly to make a point and her lips twitched. Going back to his lunch, he continued, “I’ll let Harris know when he comes back to stay clear of the stream.”

  “Thanks.”

  Ailsa started to stride away from the camp before remembering the soap she’d packed. She found it at the bottom of her bag and lifted the scented bar to her nose. It had been a few days since she’d washed but it felt far longer. Thick black mud coated the underside of her nails and when she rubbed her skin, her hands came away with blobs of dried sweat.

  The sound of flowing water led her away from their campfire and through a dense patch of coconut-scented yellow flowers. The twigs dragged across the bare skin of her arms, making her shudder.

  She kept going, wanting to put as much distance between herself and Angus as possible. They had learned a great deal about each other last few nights, but she didn’t feel like being caught with her clothes off, even when she knew he wouldn’t be interested in looking. There was also the matter of Harris and his whereabouts.

  Although, she thought, her cheeks heating, I’m not sure whether I’d be all that upset about him finding me. She admonished herself immediate
ly for the thought. He is a massive flirt, don’t get carried away. But sometimes, the way he looked at her, or found an excuse to touch her… Don’t think about it.

  She stumbled into a shady glade, and the hair on her arms stood to attention. Something was watching her. She scanned the bushes, waiting. There, a movement. She tensed to run as her eyes tracked the moving shape. But instead of red eyes, she saw the ears and upper head of a horse.

  It looked at her, clearly startled, before turning and disappearing through the shrubs. She called out to it and rushed after it, pushing branches to the side and doing her best to avoid twisted roots.

  I wonder if it belongs to someone? If it’s a wild horse, maybe I can catch it and we can use it to carry our packs, just until we get through the rest of this glen.

  She broke free of the large thicket as she came to the bank of the river, but the horse was nowhere to be seen.

  Idiot. She kicked herself for not being quicker as she scanned the trees around her, suddenly realising she was not alone.

  Chapter 31

  A man stood, knee deep in the river, plainly in the process of washing himself. He was shirtless and bent over, cupping water in his hands. He straightened when he saw her and shook his hands dry.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled, backing up. They had been walking for days now without seeing anyone, so she had assumed the horse was lost or wild. She scrabbled for something to say while he stared at her blankly. The man was taller than her, with russet hair and hooded, almost golden eyes. He was easily the most handsome man she had ever seen or would ever see again. This realisation heated her cheeks.

  “I was just following a horse. It must be yours…” He kept staring at her and she trailed off, squirming under his gaze.

  If the horse isn’t his, I must be imagining things. When he didn’t reply, she tried again.

  “Who are you?” she asked, her heart hammering. In answer, he slowly raised a finger to his mouth.

  Maybe he can’t talk, she thought, or maybe he’s crazy. Run or fight? She estimated the distance she would have to run to get back to Angus.

  The man licked his lips and Ailsa’s eyes were immediately entranced by the movement. He moved to the side of the stream, swinging his hips as he walked, and paused a few feet away.

  “Listen, I don’t know who you are but—” She couldn’t finish her sentence; he pouted at her before bringing a finger to his mouth again.

  Giving her a half-smile that made her feel warm inside, he leisurely moved his gaze from her eyes down to her chest, which seemed to snag his attention for a moment, before descending further. He eyed the axe at her waist and sauntered forwards with a smirk.

  At the back of her mind, Ailsa knew she should be getting angry, but there was only white noise in her head. She gawked at the stranger as he approached.

  Once he reached her, he raised a hand to cup her cheek and peered into her eyes. He still smiled fiendishly as he lazily brushed the side of her cheek with his thumb. His smell was deep and purely male: amber, pepper and musk.

  Ailsa’s breath hitched in her throat. The world felt like it was spinning and she swore she could hear drums beating.

  Or is that my heart?

  She felt there was something—or someone—she was forgetting but as he slowly moved his face in to whisper—no bite—her ear, Oh Gods, she lost track of the thought. His other hand lingered at her hip as he ghosted his lips from her ear down her neck. She arched into him.

  What am I doing? She couldn’t bring herself to move away. She’d never been touched by anyone like this; although, in the past, she’d imagined what it would feel like.

  His fingers brushed against a sliver of exposed skin on her stomach and her entire being became centred on that touch.

  Why do I want more?

  Slowly, he moved behind her, trailing his fingertips across her skin. He shifted her hair to the side, kissing her cheek before nipping her ear again. Her skin felt so sensitive and her heart hammered to the beat of phantom drums.

  A scared little voice whispered in the back of her mind that something was wrong, but it was quickly squashed when he blew on the flesh he had been biting. Whoever this man was, she wanted to be his: body and soul.

  Ailsa closed her eyes as he moved a hand up her torso from her stomach. She arched again, back bowing. The stranger chuckled softly under his breath.

  He pulled her to him with a strong forearm, still rubbing circles around her torso.

  Burning.

  She was burning alive.

  With another tug on her ear, he let her go and she felt the absence of him like a new wound.

  Suddenly, he faced her again and offered his hand while backing away. Ailsa’s heart leapt into her throat as she took it. She had wanted this so long ago with… What was his name? It didn’t matter.

  She looked at his lips as he languidly licked them again. She wanted to kiss him, wanted to taste him, touch him.

  She felt like she was wading through syrup as she followed his pull. At the back of her mind, she registered that her feet were frigid, but she ignored it. He smirked at her as he moved back and pulled her with him. Then he winked before tugging her waist flush against him.

  She felt the solid planes of his muscles against her whole body. He looked in her eyes before dipping his head, barely a breath from her lips. Far off, she thought heard her name being called, but she ignored it. It wasn’t important right now.

  He captured her bottom lip between his teeth. She closed her eyes in anticipation. His hands roving over her body, leaving chills in their wake. She was hot and freezing all at once. He licked her upper lip and she tilted her head back.

  She felt a wave of cold surround her.

  Why was she so cold?

  Her lips clamped shut but he painfully gripped the back of her head and kissed her, willing her to open. She grasped at his arms and struggled to get away. She couldn’t breathe. She had to stop. His touch was ice. Ailsa felt panic bubbling in her stomach. She hit a bicep with her fist and pulled her face away from his, gasping for air. But there was none.

  Only water.

  She looked back at his face and saw the stranger leering back at her through the murky liquid. She kicked her legs out but found them tangled in weeds. Looking up, she realised that they were at least four feet below the surface of the river. She struggled to push herself up, but her arms tightly banded around her body. She looked at the man who was laughing, bubbles of air escaping his mouth.

  She had no air. The need to swallow took over and immediately her lungs were searing. It was agony. Her eyes flew back to the surface and she desperately kicked and punched, but her limbs were leaden.

  Slowly the world began to fade. This is how I die.

  Faces of the people she would be leaving behind passed through her mind as she frantically fought to resist oblivion. There were so few: her brother, Iona, Angus, Harris.

  Goodbye.

  The surface rippled and a shadow passed in front of her face. Suddenly she was released and pulled up through the current. As strong hands held her under her arms, she caught a glimpse of the man, rage evident on his face, before he morphed into a strange, horse-like creature.

  Miraculously, her face broke the surface of the water and she was hauled onto land. A fist thumped her back and she threw up the water. Her lungs were on fire as fresh air gushed in.

  “Hold on, Ailsa,” called a voice, but it was far away. She leaned her forehead into the ground and saw no more.

  Chapter 32

  In her mother’s arms, she felt safe. The faint scent of honey lingered in the air and she breathed it in. Mama loved beekeeping and would often put the heather honey into her dishes. Honey in porridge was Ailsa’s favourite. Whenever Ailsa was especially good, she would be allowed a piece of honeycomb to suck on.

  Comforting hands stroked her back as she was lifted and carried towards the door. The hammering was getting louder, and she wished they would go away so she could sleep.r />
  Her mother pulled open the door and a cool breeze flew in, tickling Ailsa’s neck. Goosebumps sprouted on her arms, even under the wool blanket.

  “I told you to go away,” spat her mother. She held Ailsa a little tighter.

  “Look, she has it with her,” sneered one of the visitors. Ailsa craned her neck to look at them. There were four around the door but another fifteen stood a little farther away, beside the fence.

  “Now, Heather,” began one of the men beside the door, “we are just worried about the safety of yourself and the village. You know this is not natural.”

  “She is my daughter.”

  “No, she is not! Your daughter died, Heather.” Ailsa listened intently and rubbed her mother’s shoulder. She knew that they couldn’t be talking about her—she wasn’t dead. It was all very confusing, and she still felt sleepy. Her eyes wandered to the back of the room, where Cam had risen from his seat at the table, his body alert but his face unsure.

  “What do you want me to do? She’s a little girl. It’s not her fault she was left with me.”

  “Please, just give her to us,” said a woman on the other side of the door. Ailsa peered at her and realised she had her arms outstretched towards her. She clung to Mama tighter, feeling afraid. She didn’t know what these people were talking about, but she sensed they wanted to take her somewhere.

  Cameron had crept up to the door and now stood with a hand on their mother’s arm. Ailsa looked down at him and he gave her a wee smile, pressing his thumb into her bare foot for comfort.

  “What about your son, Heather?” the woman asked, her voice quiet. “Don’t you care if she hurts him?”

  Ailsa glanced at her brother again. Why did these people think she would hurt him? His lip curled as he watched the crowd. He stroked her foot and she felt his hand shake against her skin. They were frightening him. They were the ones who might hurt him.

  “For the boy’s sake, please, let her go,” the woman whispered.

  Suddenly Mama pulled her away from her shoulder so she could look into Ailsa’s face. Her mother appeared frightened but as they stared at each other, Ailsa saw a steely resolve enter her eyes. Finally, Mama hugged her tightly to her chest and tucked Ailsa’s head into the crook of her neck.