Jacob looked as tired as Micah felt; the dark half moons below his eyes attested to the fact that he had not slept at all last night. He had cleaned himself up at some point, though. The long black waves of his hair had a glossy sheen, like the wings of a raven, the dark stubble along his jaw had been shaven away. He was dressed in a clean kilt, the muted greens and browns of a hunting tartan, and a thin sleeveless shirt. A bulging pack was flung over his left shoulder, the dark, gleaming barrel of his rifle pointed up, at an angle behind the tanned skin of his right, held in place by the leather strap that lay diagonally across his chest.
Micah still had little use of his voice and Jacob's head turned instantly toward the soft whistle his twin had used. With a significant glance in the direction of Ailill's sleeping form, Micah beckoned him over, leaning against the bole of a tree as he fought down another wave of nausea. His stomach rumbled loudly in greeting, making Jacob smile as he dropped the pack at Micah's feet.
"There's some foolcake in there, if ya think you can keep it down, Brother." Sitting on a fallen log nearby, Jacob nodded, indicating that he wanted Micah to sit because he had something to say. "I also brought a jug of milk." These he pulled out of his own knapsack which had been strapped over his shoulders, unseen from where Micah had been standing.
Chewing slowly, Micah watched his twin scan the area in silence, Jacob's dark eyes touching on anything but his brother or the small body asleep on the other side of the clearing. Out of a faint sense of modesty for her, Micah had covered Ailill with a sheet, but in the turnings of sleep it had slipped down and bunched around her narrow waist; her shirt had come up, leaving the large, smooth rounds of her breasts half exposed.
"I been talkin' with her Grammie for the last two hours," Jacob said at last, giving a nod in Ailill's direction. "I told her everything that went on last night." He met Micah's eyes and nodded in affirmation at the dark brows raised in question. "Yep... everything. I don't believe I could've lied to the woman even if I'd wanted to; I was compelled to the worst case of honesty I've ever had."
His head shook in wonder, still shocked with the way he'd spilled his guts to the strange old woman. "She says that Ailill can heal you better than Annie can, and much faster." Jacob's cheeks flushed suddenly and he looked away. "I'm guessin' she's right about that. I didn't expect you to be up and around yet."
Reaching one long leg out, Micah nudged him with a moccasined foot, pulling his attention back before it could wander. "What did she mean?" he croaked, perplexed.
"She said that her granddaughter has the ability to heal you with her body as well as learned skill. That each time Ailill touches you, you'll heal more than you would with medicine alone, even in her own weakened state. And far faster than if Iwere to try."
"What the hell does that mean?" Micah looked almost frightened and Jacob smile reassuringly, laying a hand on his twin's deeply tanned arm.
"That's what I said and she laughed at me. She says "it has to do wi' love; not magic, and certainly not witchcraft.," he mimicked perfectly. "Her words, not mine. She says that Ailill must take you to the healing waters, but I blew her off, 'cause that doessound like witchcraft. I think the woman knows at least something about us," he added with a shrug of practiced nonchalance. "You know, I'm almost to the point that I don't care who knows. I'm sick of hiding behind this damn mask, as if I'm as normal as any other guy, knowing all the time that I ain't. Weain't." Using his foot, Jacob hooked the strap of the other pack, sliding it over the sparse patch of grass beneath his long feet. Fiddling with the drawstring, he turned back to Micah with a heavy sigh, an odd glint in his eyes. "Do you want to go home?" Even as the words came out, he knew the answer by the look on his brother's face.
"Home? Our home, in Texas?" Micah's voice rasped painfully and he took a deep swallow of the fresh milk. "No," he said, his head shaking with startling vehemence. "I need-" he cleared his throat, wincing at the sharp pain that shot up through his skull. "I need Abby," he breathed.
Watching him closely, Jacob muttered, "that's what the old woman said."
"Do youwant to go home?"
"Nah. I ain't never goin' back there... hell-hole. The memories alone would drive me insane. And so would living with Kiah, if that's where he's headed after this. I hate the man more than anything!" His features hardened as he eyed Micah's bandaged head. "I went down with James and Annie and picked up the rest of our stuff this mornin'." The look of surprise that passed over his twin's features should have been amusing but, to Jacob, it wasn't; he didn't laugh or even smile. Instead, he sighed unhappily, allowing the feelings usually kept hidden under a mask to come to the surface, marking his face with lines of exhaustion and strain.
"Kiah and I fought all this out this morning," he said softly.
Shock showed clear on Micah's face, a wave of terror sending icy fingers down his spine. He met Jacob's intense look with a pallid face. "He's back?" At his twin's solemn nod, Micah's heart thudded heavily against his ribcage. "She knew," he muttered to himself, sure that was what Abby had meant by her odd apology this morning. Eying his twin with suspicion, head cocked to one side, Jacob wondered what he'd missed in the hours of his absence. It was an effort to push aside the envy that niggled at the back of his mind with what could only be assumptions; to keep his thoughts on more important matters.
"Came back to get his things, he says," Jacob answered in low tones, his own fear of the vile man widening his eyes, making him gulp loudly; there was an audible tremor in his voice, a painful reminder to his twin of the last time that Jacob had had a run-in with the man. "I couldn't believe he was there," Jacob went on slowly, "but he said he only wanted to 'clue me in on a few things' before he left for good. I think he was scairt of James coming back from his rounds and catching him. He stayed away, on the other side of the room, but he mentioned something about a price on his head that was worth more than the two of us together will ever be worth." His own belief, that he was not worth anything, just plain worthless, brutally ingrained all his years, caused Jacob to shrug unwittingly at the uncertainty of such a proposition.
"He tried hard to change my mind about wantin' to be with Ailill. Hell, for a minute he sounded almost kind, but he just couldn't hide the fact that he was real pissed that we weren't there when he came back last night... he said he new that Abby would heal me, you know, but he figured that I'd want to stay closer to my harem." Jacob's nostrils flared at the insult but he forced himself to keep talking. "He was gonna come get us, this morning, he said. To talk. He tried to make me stay even after I told him y'all were hurt. He didn't give a damn, of course; said it served you right for sniffin' about the skirts of a whore, and I think he had an idea to lock me in again so he could come find you, but James came. He wouldn't let him near me, thank God, 'cause we're bound to Ailill by Kiah's own word. At least, that's what James said when Kiah demanded that we come with him."
Digging around inside the heavy pack, Jacob produced a bottle of ale; dark and rich, the smell of hops touched Micah's sinuses as soon as Jacob pulled the cap from the narrow opening to drink deeply, his throat working in rapid swallows. Wiping his mouth on his arm, he went on.
"I ain't so sure James hasn't threatened him... with something besides the supposed price on his head, I mean. You know Kiah's scairt of nothin', but he went on and on this mornin', about how Ailill's a witch and all the women in her family are into some evil shit. He said if we ain't careful, she'll cut off our balls and make 'em into a potion and if we get her pregnant, she'll spawn a litter of demons. I told him that is plain fuckin' bullshit and he knows it, but he still wouldn't shut up. He called her everlasting, like it was some sort of bitter word, a foul curse. He said it ain't normal to live forever,or to be able to trace your ancestors all the way back to the beginnin' of mankind."
Micah grunted, looked confused, and Jacob nodded, anticipating what he wanted to say.
"That's what I toldhim. He's always been proud to be of long-lived Scottish blood; made us proud t
o be. I told him that no one else can trace their roots back even so far as the twelfth century in the whole town, except The Mackintosh."
"What'd he say?" Micah asked anxiously, the food at his feet forgotten completely as he listened to his twin's tale unfolding.
"Well... he got mean after that," Jacob said slowly, scratching his head as if still confused. "Towards Annie. Started cursin' at her, spittin' insults. You know how he gets when he's mad. He was threatening her and Abby, though; sayin' as how he was gonna get back at 'em all for ruining things for him. He said all kinds of shit I didn't understand at all, like as if he's known the Macks as long as they been drawin' air, you know. He said that Ailill can expect the same treatment Annie earned so long ago. That it is his right and that if she dared fight back, he'll make it a point to kill her slowly, tortuously, the way he should've done to her, Annie, when he had the chance. On and on the man went, and I didn't get his meanin' at all. It was like he was someone else, spewin' shit about people I ain't never heard of. He even mentioned the name MacDuff, and I got this... I dunno. I felt like my hairs were standin' on end when he said it, like he was talkin' about me, insulting us. I felt like I could've killed him, then and there, and thought nothin' of it. It was plain damn freaky. You cannot imagine... I think he embarrassed her, though. Annie, I mean; or maybe he scared her, 'cause she started yellin' at him in the Gaelic, like Abby does when she's real pissed; she got right up in Kiah's face, rantin' at him, and he slapped her! As mean as the bastard is, I don't think I ever seen him actually hit Lizzie when she was alive, McKell neither, but he backhanded Annie right across the face, hard enough to knock her into the wall and onto her ass!"
The two brothers stared at each other, eyes wide with disbelief. Jacob swallowed, the audible click in the back of his throat an obvious sign that he was not through. Micah nodded for him to go on, his face marked with the shock roiling through his mind.
"James roared at that, scairt the livin' shit right outta me, but Kiah ignored him like he was invisible. I went to help Annie up, but she pushed me away and jumped to her feet sofast, like Abby did when James knocked her down, when they were sparring that first time. I saw that Annie was holding a blade, a sgian dhu. I think it was strapped to her leg or something, 'cause I never knew she carried a weapon. She slashed the front of his shirt open and raised the knife to stab him in the chest and he told her to go ahead, finish the job she had started because she was gonna burn in Hell anyways for being a 'necromantic enchantress', for 'spawning a daemon child who's only reason for livin' is to breed dozens more foul beasts'; he said that Ailill is a succubus who will only steal the lifeforce away from any and all she fucks, including us. And then he screamed something at her in that ghost language Abby uses when she dreams!" Jacob's eyes were wide, black with untold fear. He glanced to where Ailill lay sleeping and back at his twin. Micah stared back at him uneasily.
"Is Dad dead?" Micah asked hoarsely, the absolute concern he felt showing in the endearing term; neither man had ever called Kiah Dadunless something was truly wrong. They could count the times that had happened on one hand.
Jacob looked him over closely, his dark head swaying side to side as he looked his twin directly in the eye. "We wouldn't be sitting hereif he was dead, Micah," he said decisively. Holding up a hand to stave off another painfully whispered question, Jacob went on. "James picked Annie up and carried her, kickin' and screamin', out the door. He told her that if she didn't shut up he was gonna throw her ass in jail for disturbin' the peace, and if that didn't calm her he'd haul her back to Scotland and leave her there, locked away in a nunnery. When he came back in, he told Kiah that he was under arrest for threatening to commit bodily injury, including death, upon citizens of Jewel Mountain and the Hidden Highlands; and then he said that the man had no legal rights to us, that he'd fucked with the lives of the Gentryfor long enough and he'd see to it that we never set foot within Kiah's reach again. James said he's takin' us home, where we belong. That Jewel Mountain was not the answer; that it'd never been."
A sharp intake of breath brought Jacob's gaze back up to his twin. Tossing the leaf he had been shredding over his shoulder, Jacob looked up, judging the time of day by the position of the sun. "He didn't arrest him," he said quietly, his eyes dark with feeling. "But I could tell that he wanted to. No, he wanted to see the man dead, not just locked away. It was in his eyes. I've never seen James so pissed off at anyone before."
Jacob quickly went on, his eyes squeezed shut, seeing the scene replay behind the lids. "James told Kiah that he needs to lay off the drink; that it's been clouding his mind far too long, and that he was forgettin' himself lately; forgettin' what a precarious position he's in. Kiah laughed at him, that hateful sneer; said if anyone was forgettin' himself, it was James. He called him Shaemus, King of the Mountain. He said that if James had kept his hands off Annie in the first place, then he, Kiah, would be in his rightful place as leader, with Annie by his side, his Queen, as she had been training to be when James stole her from him. He said Ailill would never have been born. He didn't call her Ailill, though, he called her... uh, I dunno what word he used, so I didn't know he was even talkin' about her at the time. James said that if that had been the case, then his sons would never have been born and Kiah said, "What sons? I have no sons. You stole them from me, too! My sons are dead because you made it impossible to provide for them! You and the Gentry ruined any chance I ever had to redeem myself." James noticed that I was standing there then. He seemed embarrassed, but I don't know if it was because of what Kiah had revealed about Annie, or because he said he had no sons. I mean, what the hell are we? Who arewe, if not Kiah's only livingsons? I didn't understand, you know? James pulled me outside then; told me to go up to Hidden Jewel... to get whatever I thought we needed to stay in the cave for a while."
Turning his head, Jacob looked at Micah, fear glowing darkly in his eyes. A sheen of perspiration shown across the tanned skin of his brow and Micah saw that the pulse in his neck was beating at a rapid pace. "I asked him what cave, and he said 'the Cave of the Lost, under the fairy mound.' I laughed, Micah. I thought he was foolin' with me, tryin' to lighten the mood, you know? But he was totally serious and he looked scairt all of a sudden. He said that Ailill would show us the way, that she's been there before; that it has always been a place of safety. Sacred. He said to stay there 'til he comes for us and I told him no, 'cause you're so wounded, but he insisted. He said that if we want to stay alive, if we want Ailill like we both say we do, then we'll do it, and that if Kiah shows up we are to go with her through Cachaileith na Sith." The strange words came slowly, awkwardly, as they rolled off Jacob's tongue. Micah looked surprised and then paled as he mentally translated them as 'faerie door', the otherworldly doorway through which he had seen Ailill's own dream-lover days earlier, or so he'd supposed the giant man to be when he'd connected with the girl's strange dreams. Evenly meeting his twin's eye, Jacob said, "then James sent me away, up the back side of Wilderdeep. I ain't sure what might've happened after that; that was when I went to talk to the old woman."
Jumping swiftly to his feet, Jacob grabbed the bottle of ale and took a long swallow, handing the nearly emptied bottle to Micah before turning toward the firepit that Ailill had dug and lined with stones the day before, dropping easily to his knees beside it.
"She ain't as weird as she seems," he said quietly. He was kneeling in the dirt, poking around in the ashes with a stick. Finding a coal down near the bottom of the pit, he went to work using kindling that Ailill had stacked nearby, building up a small fire in the same cubicle fashion he had watched the girl use the night before. "Fallon says that James is afraid for Ailill's life, otherwise he wouldn't make us stay here, away from the comforts of home. She says that it is imperative that we let nothing happen to her granddaughter, that if Ailill were to die it could mean the end of everything. The end of us."
Meeting his twin's eyes, Micah opened his palms, impatient for more information, at the mercy of Jacob's
laid-back timing with no voice to ask the man to elaborate. A flicker of irritation passed over the strained lines of his face when Jacob stood suddenly and left the clearing, the small cooking pot tucked under an arm, the gleaming barrel of his rifle sliding silently back and forth between his shoulder blades as he walked. Uttering a deep sigh, Micah pulled the heavy pack closer and began pulling out small packages of nuts, dehydrated fruit, and spicy-smelling jerky. One large bundle, wrapped in a towel, turned out to be many small bags of dried herbs; the scent of mint overpowering all others, he pulled the drawstring of a small cloth bag and smiled at the handful of dried stems inside, popping one in his mouth as he poked his head back into the pack. There was a small jar of honey, a canister filled with creamy pale yellow butter, a glass jar that looked to contain strawberry preserves, and another large bottle of fresh milk; a few small loaves of fresh-baked bread were wrapped separately. His stomach rumbled in appreciation, but he set the food aside, content to wait for Ailill to eat with him when she awoke. A few more bottles of ale were wrapped in towels below the food and, leaving them wrapped, Micah set them under Ailill's unused blanket folded at the foot of the makeshift mattress to keep them cool. There was a decided nip in the air this morning.
A stack of clothes, folded neatly into the pillowcase, was the next thing in the bag. Picking up a square of cloth on top, Micah recognized it as the blouse Ailill had been wearing the first time he saw her, a tiny beige linen top with no sleeves, the narrow bands of material over the shoulders no more than an inch wide. The laces up the front had accentuated the firm, round fullness of her sizable breasts, the length came only to the paler skin just below, showing off the rock-hard muscles of her stomach and abdomen to their fullest advantage. In the picture in his mind, Micah could see her clearly, dripping wet from the hasty bath in the stream, the plum color of her nipples showing clearly through the wet fabric just before it fell to her feet. A newly familiar stirring in his loins brought his attention back to the present and he opened his eyes, the shirt clutched against his chest suddenly forgotten as he looked into Jacob's eyes across the fire, alight with knowing and hidden laughter. Flushed with embarrassment, he quickly refolded the fabric and shoved it haphazardly back into the bag, hiding his face by burying it in the half-empty pack. The other two pillowcases held his and Jacob's clothes. Looking over at her sleeping form, he was suddenly glad that Jacob had thought of it.
Hidden Jewel (Heartfire Series) Page 26