Soul of a Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Arch Through Time Book 13)

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Soul of a Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Arch Through Time Book 13) Page 21

by Katy Baker

“Sophie!”

  The desperate voice jolted her. Callum had a hold of her wrist and was watching worriedly.

  “What are ye doing?”

  “Yes, why don’t you tell us what you’re doing?” Rochford called from behind him. “Why don’t you tell us who your real masters are?”

  “Sophie?” Callum repeated. “What is he talking about?”

  She didn’t answer. She felt the pull of the voices like a magnet. It had been growing as they neared the cavern. Now it was almost irresistible. If she could only hear what they were saying...

  But something deep inside flared a warning. No, she told herself. This isn’t right. None of this is right. Remember why you are here!

  “Why do you hesitate?” Rochford said. “Why don’t you tell him? Tell him how you’re really one of us?”

  “Shut yer mouth!” Callum snapped, whirling on Rochford. “Say another word and I’ll kill ye.”

  “Ask her,” Rochford replied. “Ask her if it isn’t true.”

  “I dinna need to. I know who she is.”

  “No, you don’t. Blood calls to blood,” Rochford said. “She cannot deny her own birthright. Can you, my dear?”

  Sophie shook herself free of Callum’s grip and took another step forward. Suddenly a memory engulfed her.

  Several men and women sat in a circle. They bore grim expressions and each was armed. Around each neck hung a pewter disk.

  “What we do here tonight will bind us all forever,” said a dark-haired man, looking around at them all sternly. “It will bind us and our offspring down through the generations, down through the long years of history. There will be no escaping it.”

  They nodded solemnly and the dark-haired man looked at them each in turn before giving a nod of satisfaction.

  “From this day forth,” he said. “We will not rest until our lands, our titles, our birthrights, are restored to us. Until that day we will be known as the Disinherited and we swear our service to the Unseelie Fae. I will be the first. I swear my life, my service and my bloodline to the Unseelie. All who follow me will be bound into this service. So say I, Brendan MacCullough.”

  Sophie gasped. Her hand flew to the pewter disk around her neck. No. It couldn’t be.

  Ye know the truth, the voices said from beyond the door. Ye are one of us. We are yer family. Look inside, daughter of the Unseelie. Ye know it in yer heart.

  Those voices were so sweet, so full of love and warmth. She reached out, placed her palm flat against the warm stone of the door—and another vision enveloped her.

  A man and a woman are standing in a room. The woman has honey-colored hair just like Sophie’s. The man is darker but his eyes are a light blue like the summer sky. They smile as they lean over a crib. A baby lies within. She has wisps of honey hair like the woman’s but her wide-open eyes are as blue as the man’s. The man reaches out and the baby curls her tiny hand around his finger.

  “Hi, Sophie,” he whispers.

  Sophie gasped, snatching her hand away from the stone. Tears sprang into her eyes. “Dad?” she whispered. “Mom?” Slowly, she reached out to the stone once more.

  “I can’t do this,” the woman says, her voice catching in her throat. “I can’t give her up.”

  “We must,” the man replies, his voice hard. “It’s the only way to protect her. If we keep her, the Disinherited will find her. We cannot allow that to happen.”

  The woman closes her eyes and nods. She reaches around her neck and unties a necklace on which hangs a metal disk. She ties it around the baby’s neck and then lays a kiss on the soft cheek.

  “For luck, my daughter,” she says. “And to help you remember who you are.”

  The vision ended and Sophie found herself back in the cavern, slumped against the stone door.

  “Sophie!” Callum cried. He took a step towards her but she held out a hand to stop him.

  He is not for ye, the voices crooned. He is not family. We are. Release us and ye will finally have all ye ever wanted. Ye will have a family.

  Sophie shook her head. “No. My parents gave me up so you wouldn’t find me. They didn’t want me anywhere near you.”

  They were confused, the voices replied. As ye are confused. But there is no need to be anymore. Release us and ye will have the answers to all the questions ye have ever asked. Ye will have yer heart’s desire: ye will finally know who you are. Release us.

  Something flared brightly on the door’s smooth surface, drawing Sophie’s eyes to a softly glowing keyhole. It was a round indentation in the rock—exactly the same shape as the disk in her hand.

  “What are you waiting for?” Rochford snapped. “You know what you have to do. This is your destiny, the reason you were brought here. It’s the only way you’re ever going to get home. Yes, I know where you are really from.”

  Blood calls to blood. It burned through her veins, demanding she act. Demanding she do what her bloodline had always done. Demanding she do what she had been born to do.

  Ye have a choice coming, Irene MacAskill had told her. Ye can choose to remain on this path. Or ye can take another.

  Choice. It was all about choice. Her ancestors might have marked out a path for her but that did not mean she couldn’t choose another, one that she had already chosen the moment she fell in love with Callum Sutherland.

  Very deliberately, she turned her back on the door.

  “I know what my destiny is,” she said to Rochford. “And I know who I am. It’s just taken me this long to realize it. You think to tempt me with knowledge? With the chance to go home? I no longer want that. I no longer need it.”

  Callum watched her silently. There was no doubt in his eyes, there never had been, only complete faith in her. It seemed he’d known who she was better than she did.

  She swallowed, meeting his gaze. “I know who I am because of you. It’s not about blood. It’s about choices. You taught me that. And this is my choice.”

  Pulling her arm back, she threw the metal disk with all her strength. It arced out over the water, spun end over end for a moment, before falling into the lake with a plop.

  A silent concussion rocked the cavern. The ground heaved and Sophie was thrown from her feet, landing heavily. A glow formed in the waters of the lake. It grew until the whole lake shimmered with a pale white light before blinking out again, leaving after images in Sophie’s eyes. When this cleared, she saw that the milky substance that swirled through the water had disappeared and the gray liquid that had been leaking from the stone door had stopped flowing.

  “Stupid bitch!”

  She barely had time to register Rochford hurtling towards her, a sword glinting in his hands, before Callum collided with him, sending them both crashing into the dirt. Sophie staggered to her feet, backing away as the two men wrestled on the ground.

  Callum kicked Rochford’s sword away and then landed his knee into the man’s ribs but Rochford managed to punch Callum in the chin hard enough to rock his head back. Callum blinked, obviously dazed, and Rochford dashed to his feet, grabbed the sword and whirled on the fallen man.

  Callum rolled away at the last minute, Rochford’s blade clanging against the stone where Callum had been lying only a moment ago. He rolled to his feet and held his sword in a two-handed grip, placing himself between Rochford and Sophie.

  “You think this is over?” Rochford spat. “It is only just beginning! We are legion and you are few. You cannot hope to defeat us.”

  Something landed on Sophie’s shoulder and she looked up to see a plume of dust cascading from a crack above her head. A moment later there came a grinding noise and a chunk of rock fell from the ceiling to land in the lake with a splash.

  “Callum!” she cried. “We have to get out of here!”

  The whole cavern shook. More plumes of dust rained down.

  “Give it up,” Callum said to Rochford. “Ye will face justice for what ye’ve done but at least ye can keep yer honor.”

  “Honor?” Rochford said. “An o
utdated concept bandied by those who are not man enough to do what they must. Do not speak to me of honor.”

  He launched himself at Callum who met the blow with his own weapon, the two blades clanging loudly and sending echoes through the cavern. Callum replied with a stinging riposte of his own, forcing Rochford back a step. For several heart-stopping moments, they traded blows so fast that Sophie could barely keep track of them.

  Another piece of rock broke off the ceiling—much larger this time—and crashed into the lake with enough force to send up a splash that reached the lakeshore, spraying them all with freezing water. Looking up, she saw cracks snaking right across the ceiling. Deep below her feet, another rumble came. The cavern would not last much longer.

  Still Callum and Rochford fought. Callum’s face was calm, focused, but Rochford wore a mask of anger and hatred, his features twisted. Nonetheless, he fought with a strength and precision that was a match for Callum’s and neither of them could get the upper hand.

  Callum was forcing Rochford back, away from her, away from the walkway in order to leave it clear for Sophie to escape.

  “Go!” he gasped at her. “Get out of here!”

  “Not without you!”

  “I said get out of here!” he growled. “This place is coming down!”

  She remembered his words on the ride here. I vowed that I would give my life if needed. I cannot escape that vow. He would do whatever it took to keep his oath—even if that meant being buried here with his enemy.

  No. She would not lose him. She looked around desperately, her eyes alighting on a boulder lying by her feet. She grabbed it, finding it heavier than she expected, and lifted it in both hands.

  Callum had driven Rochford to the lakeshore and they were battling along its edge. Callum was bleeding from several cuts to his arms and torso and Rochford had a huge bruise forming on one cheek.

  Hefting the boulder, Sophie tossed it across the ground like a bowling ball. It smacked into Rochford’s legs, causing him to momentarily lose his balance. His sword went wide and his arms pin-wheeled desperately. It was the opening Callum needed. He drove his sword into Rochford’s chest. The man’s eyes went wide. For one long, terrible moment, the tableau seemed frozen, with the two enemies staring at each other.

  Then Callum ripped his sword free and Rochford stumbled back. His hands clawed for Callum’s face but met only air. With nothing to break his fall, he toppled into the water, landing with a splash, before sinking to the bottom as though made of stone.

  Another rumble shook the cavern. Debris began raining from the ceiling and a crack snaked its way across the surface of the walkway. If they didn’t get out now, they wouldn’t get out at all.

  “Callum!” Sophie yelled.

  He whirled, ran over and grabbed her hand. Together they fled, hurrying across the now dangerously shifting walkway. Sophie held her arms above her head to keep off the rain of dust and pebbles that was now a constant stream from the cracks in the ceiling. She heard a crash behind as something big smashed into the walkway. The whole thing buckled, sending Sophie crashing to her knees.

  Callum was there in an instant, pulling her to her feet and dragging her on. They reached the walkway’s end and Sophie skidded to a halt, turning back the way they’d come. The ceiling was caving in. Great chunks of rock came smashing down into the lake, the Fae structure, the walkway, obliterating everything.

  “Hurry!” Callum bellowed.

  Grabbing her hand, they flew up the tunnel. They had no torch so the place was pitch dark, the only thing to guide her was Callum’s grip on her hand. She clung tight to him as they ran, resisting the urge to look back as a cloud of dust and debris chased them.

  Her breathing began to rasp in her chest, her lungs burning, but Callum’s insistent grip on her hand would not let her slow. Up ahead, a rectangle of light came into view and Sophie’s heart surged at the sight of daylight. The air began to fill with a choking cloud of dust and Sophie put one arm over her face to keep it out but could not stop herself from coughing. It was getting difficult to breathe. Every breath sucked dust into her lungs.

  Still Callum pulled her on. The rectangle was getting closer but now little dots of light were beginning to dance in front of Sophie’s eyes. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t breathe.

  Her legs went out from under her but before she could fall, Callum was there. He scooped her into his arms, held her close and ran.

  She clung to him and the rectangle of light grew larger and larger until finally, blessedly, they burst out into the sunlight and fresh air, followed by a cloud of rock chips, debris and dust that exploded out of the hole behind them.

  Callum staggered to his knees, lowering Sophie to the ground. She pulled in great lungfuls of the fresh air and curled over, coughing out the dust.

  She raised her head to look at Callum. He was unrecognizable. A thick coating of dust covered him from head to toe, matting his hair into clumps. Except for his eyes. She would recognize those hazel eyes anywhere.

  “Are ye all right, love?” he asked.

  “I’m fine. Except I really, really need a bath,” she answered.

  He stared at her a moment and then barked a laugh. “Ye are not the only one.”

  “Is it over?” she asked. “Did we do it?”

  He glanced at the mine entrance which was now nothing but a pile of broken rock.

  “Aye,” he breathed. “It’s over.” He didn’t sound triumphant, or even particularly pleased. Instead he sounded tired. Tired beyond imagining.

  She pushed herself into a sitting position and blinked dust from her eyes, swiping a hand across her forehead. Oh yes, she definitely needed a bath. And to sleep for about a week. But for all that, she felt better than she had in a long, long time. She felt as though a mill stone she’d been carrying all her life had suddenly vanished. It took a moment to figure out why.

  Because I know who I am, she thought. And I didn’t need to track my birth parents to find out. Callum taught me.

  “Did ye mean what ye said down there?” he asked, his voice a little hoarse. “About not wanting to go home?”

  She curled her fingers through his, clasping his hand tight. “I made my choice. I’m already home, Callum. Home is with you. I came to Scotland to discover who I was and I have. You taught me who I am. So yes, I meant what I said down there, Callum. Every word.”

  He cupped her face in his hands, pulling her close. “Then marry me,” he whispered. “Be my wife. Be by my side forever.”

  Sophie’s heart lurched. Joy opened inside her like a flower. Tears pricked her eyes. “Callum Sutherland,” she breathed. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  He gave out a whoop of delight, punching the air, and making his men, who had crowded around them as they’d emerged from the mine, mutter in alarm.

  He leaned forward and kissed her, paying no mind to his men. It was a kiss and it was a promise. One that sealed her future.

  Chapter 18

  “It itches like bloody hell,” Murdoch growled, pulling at the collar of his freshly starched shirt.

  “Will ye leave it alone?” Elspeth said, smacking his hand away as though he was a naughty child. “Ye’ll pull it out of shape!”

  Murdoch scowled at his wife but did as she asked, allowing her to straighten his collar. Sophie shared an amused glanced with Agatha, who was busy laying out her clothing on the bed in her chamber. They’d been like this all morning. Their good-natured banter was exactly what Sophie needed to calm the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She felt nervous and excited in equal measure, oscillating between the two so rapidly she felt dizzy. Today was the day. The day she would marry Callum Sutherland and begin her new life. It still seemed like a dream.

  “There,” Elspeth said. “Perfect. Now get on with ye, Callum will be waiting.”

  Murdoch nodded then walked over to Sophie. Laying his hands on her shoulders, he gazed down at her.

  “Look at ye,” he breathed. “I never thought I w
ould see a day like today. Callum is like a son to me and ye like a daughter. To see ye both wed—” he paused as his voice caught. “Well, I couldnae be more proud.”

  Sophie nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Since she’d gotten to know them, Murdoch and Elspeth had indeed become like the parents she’d never known. She was so grateful for them coming into her life.

  “Off with ye!” Elspeth repeated. “I willnae tell ye again!”

  Murdoch rolled his eyes at Sophie, who stifled a smile. Then he made his way to the door and left.

  “Right,” Elspeth said, glancing out the window. “The guests are all arriving. Time to get ready.”

  Sophie’s stomach did a little flip. Time to get ready. Time to prepare for the biggest moment of her life.

  “Come, I’ll help ye into yer dress,” said Agatha.

  The two women fussed around Sophie like mother hens. They had taken the duties of organizing her and Callum’s wedding very seriously indeed, to the point where the two of them would often be sequestered together for hours and even skipped meals. She and Callum had let them get on with it and they’d taken to their roles as adoptive mother of the groom and adoptive mother of the bride with smooth aplomb.

  They helped Sophie into her wedding dress—a beautiful blue dress stitched by a team of seamstresses that Agatha had brought up from the village—and then had her sit in front of the mirror whilst Agatha began brushing out her hair. Finally, she pinned it up around Sophie’s face and stood back, admiring her handiwork.

  Sophie stood and did a little twirl. “Well?” she asked. “How do I look?”

  The two women beamed at her. Tears glittered in Elspeth’s eyes.

  “Beautiful,” she said. “Just beautiful.”

  There was a knock at the door. Agatha answered it to admit James, the old steward. He was wearing his best plaid and his hair was neatly held back into a tail. He gave Sophie a creaky bow.

  “If ye are ready, my lady? I’m here to escort ye to yer husband.”

  To yer husband.

  The words sent a tremor right through her. “Thank you, James,” she said, giving the old man a beaming smile.

 

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