by Patty Taylor
Beth knelt on the floor, shaking her head and grinning, amused by Kalista’s fascination. Holding a scrawny piece of material in her hand, she examined the remaining remnants of her torn clothes scattered around her. “It will definitely take a feat of magic to make anything out of these.”
A knock tapped at the door. “Come in.”
“Beggin’ yer pardon, lass, but I thought you’d enjoy going on a wee scavenger trip through some old trunks.” McGregor leaned on his crutch, a sparkle in his eyes. “I believe there might be a few things of some interest to ye.”
Beth jerked to her feet, excited. “I’m ready. Just lead the way.”
McGregor opened the door and led Beth down a long corridor. He stopped in front of a cabin and leaned down to light a lantern. Keys jangled as he tried unlocking the squeaky door. It swung open, and McGregor went in first, heading to the corner of the tight quarters and stopping in front of two hefty trunks. He placed the lamp on top of the smaller crate and opened the lid of the other chest. He smiled, motioning for her to come closer. “Aye, this is what we’re lookin’ for. I think these should be appropriate.”
Beth knelt on the cold planks, leaned over the trunk, and peeked inside. Her focus centered on the lovely linen shawl, laid sprawled open. A quaint thatched-roof cottage surrounded by three-leaf clovers and lilies of the valley were meticulously hand-embroidered across the triangle-shaped back. She stared at the intricate details. “I’ve never seen anything like this, McGregor. It’s beautiful.”
“Aye. My wife made these clothes for our daughter.” McGregor’s face beamed brighter than the light emitted from the lantern. He wiped his eye with the back of his hand. “I believe ye’ll find some more fancy women’s garbs below. Go ahead, lass. Take a wee gander.”
Beth lifted the exquisite shawl and moved it to the side. A crimson-red dress with a low-scooped neckline hid beneath it.
“If me memory serves me right, I think ye’re about the same size as my daughter was. I would be right proud if ye would consider wearin’ these tonight.” McGregor straightened, his teary eyes glimmering like glass.
“I don’t know what to say.” Beth hesitated, her fingers stroking the soft material. She stared at the clothes and back at McGregor.
“Say yes.” McGregor smiled, his dimples showing. “No sense these pretty things bein’ tucked away anymore. I’m sure both me lovely girls, Maggie and Maureen, would be pleased to see their handiwork bein’ put to good use.”
Beth sprinted to her feet, threw her arms around McGregor’s neck, and kissed him on both cheeks. “Thank you. I feel honored, and I’ll be delighted to wear them.”
McGregor blushed and fumbled with something inside his pockets.
Beth gripped his arm. “Your wife and daughter—I don’t mean to pry or offend . . .”
“’Tis all right, lass.” McGregor moved the lantern to the other side of the smaller trunk and sat. “My Maggie died right before Maureen discovered she was part-wolf. I think her mother’s death is what brought the she-wolf out in the lass as early as it did. Ye remind me a lot of my Maureen.”
“I’m sorry about your wife. Does Maureen live in Scotland?”
“Nay. We were born Irish, lass. We lived in the mystical emerald Glens of Antrim, in lovely Northern Ireland. My Maureen took after her Mum and was quite the beauty. The lass had her pick of all the available lads in the village. Unfortunately, her wolf part took after me—she loved to run wild.” He straightened his back, his face filled with pride. “One day she made the grave decision of confidin’ her secret to another she mistakenly judged as her best friend. Once the other lass discovered her own beau had eyes for my Maureen, she threw a jealous rage and accused my daughter of being a witch.”
McGregor’s nostrils flared, his fingers tightened around his crutch, and his knuckles turned white.
Beth swallowed, and a lump rose in her throat. She’d read about some of the gruesome things they did to witches during this century. Her body shuddered. Ever since Darby returned her to the Isle of Skye in the eighteenth century, she couldn’t deny that terrible thoughts had crossed her mind. The fear of the possibility of being accused of witchcraft caused her to lay awake in cold sweats many nights, worrying what could happen to her.
“Villagers were sent to spy on us. They waited until I left the cottage one morn’ to go hunting for deer. Me daughter was all alone when they captured her and drug her to the village square. I found my Maureen lying dead in her wolf form in front of a stake surrounded with sticks and brush. They used her to set an example. A warnin’ to anyone they hated or feared to get out of the area before the same horrible thing happened to them.”
Beth wiped the tears spilling down her face and gripped McGregor’s hands. “By the Goddess, I’m so sorry McGregor.”
“That’s when I met yer young Quinn.” McGregor sniffled, picked up the lamp and stood. He closed the lid on the trunk. Kalista glided into the room and landed on his shoulder. “Aye, but that ’tis another story to continue one evening with Quinn present. I think ’tis best we get back to yer cabin so ye can freshen up and try these on.”
A blanket of glittering stars greeted Quinn when his eyelids sprung open. He sat up, stretching his arms over his head. It canna be.
The delicious whiff of roasted meat and warm bread made his stomach rumble. His nostrils flared, and he sprung to his feet, rubbing the bristly stubble covering his chin. A good bath and a fresh change of clothes was needed before joining Beth below. He called for his friend, “McGregor!”
“Aye, Captin’.” McGregor was already standing behind him with clean towels tucked beneath his arm. “I took the liberty of gatherin’ a fresh shirt and plaid for ye and puttin’ them in me cabin. The lass insisted on preparin’ dinner herself.”
“I’m beholdin’ to ye, McGregor. Ye’ve thought of everythin’.” Quinn grabbed the towels and darted toward the old man’s cabin.
“I try, lad. Enjoy yer night.” McGregor called out. “Ye can thank me by savin’ me a few bites of that juicy young grouse.”
Quinn bolted down the steps and kicked the back of McGregor’s cabin door shut with his foot. He hurried to strip off his clothes and shave. After his bath, he donned the shirt over his head and tucked it inside his plaid. The day’s rest had revived his energy.
Sprinting with long strides, he stopped in front of his cabin. Taking a deep breath, he cracked open the door and poked his head inside.
Kalista cackled and tugged at the bottom of Beth’s gown. Beth stopped lighting the candles on the table and swiveled to face him.
A true vision of beauty, her alluring blue eyes twinkled with a hint of golden amber. Beth beamed, her cheeks flushing red to complement the crimson color of her dress. Lavish raven locks swept against her slender neck and brushed against her bulging cleavage. Her lips parted in an enticing smile.
Quinn’s manhood hardened and pressed against his plaid. He cleared his throat.
Beth blushed and spun herself around. She stopped, her gaze locking with his. “Kalista and I wanted to surprise you. McGregor gave me these clothes. I hope you’re pleased.”
“Pleased is not quite the word I have in mind, lass.” Quinn stepped closer, taking her hand in his. He brushed his lips across her silky skin. Her sexy wolf scent mixed with violets and lavender was intoxicating. “By the Gods, ye’re a beautiful woman, lass. A man couldna ask for more.”
“I hope you still feel that way once you’ve eaten my cooking.” Beth laughed, and cupped the side of his face with her hand. Her eyes searched his. “I want you to know, I’ll never forget what you did for me last night. I’ll cherish those memories forever.”
Her fingers trembled as she bit her lower lip. Her face clouded with uneasiness.
“I promise ye, love, now that we’ve found each other, there will be many more nigh
ts like that to follow.” He drew her in his arms, and his lips covered hers.
“Captin’.” McGregor’s voice thundered from the other side of the door.
“Mo creach,” Quinn cursed. The swelling of his manhood subsided. “I must be bloody cursed to keep havin’ these blasted interruptions. What in Bloody Hell is so blasted important now?”
The cabin door flew open. McGregor’s eyes opened wide, and his cheeks blushed scarlet-red against his chalky pale face. “I’m not sure how the wee fellow got on board, Captin’. He insists he came to get Beth.”
Chapter 17
A short-statured figure wearing a black hooded cloak shuffled his way inside Quinn’s cabin. From first glance at the stranger’s petite features, Beth’s heart leapt in her chest. The creature lowered the cover from its head and let it drop to the floor.
“I’m called Vakr.” For one so little, his voice was deep and loud when he announced himself. “I was summoned to deliver the cursed witch to Halldora. We eat first. Then we must rest before heading on our journey.”
A knot rose in her throat, and she wrung her hands, disappointed it wasn’t her beloved friend Darby.
The disheveled Vakr stood stiff and lacked eyebrows, distorting the hunched-back, protruding-eyebrowed Neanderthal image she had originally set in her mind of ogres and trolls. A single hair sprouting on his bald head separated the black beady eyes peering over a long, pointy, crooked nose. Centered between his sunken pale cheeks were jagged fangs hanging over a pudgy bottom lip.
Hairy legs stood beneath a pair of frayed cut-off trousers that were held up by a tangled rope filled with knots. A shabby stained T-shirt filled with holes hugged his fat belly. Thick, bushy hair sprouted from his spindly fingers, hands, and bare feet.
A nauseating stench filled the room. Beth wrinkled her nose and covered her mouth to keep from gagging. Her eyes watered and stung as if she’d been sprayed in the face by a frightened skunk. She could only hope Vakr’s personality made up for his sordid features and repulsive odor. She had a dreadful feeling that his disposition was probably worse.
The dirty, wretched troll hobbled over to the table and climbed on one of the chairs. Beth stared and clenched her hands by her sides. Her dinner plate cradled his filthy belly while he leaned his upper body on the table. His grubby fingers grabbed the basket of fresh baked rolls and the jar of honey.
Her temper flaring, Beth bit her lip to keep from saying something she might regret, when she spotted the dirt caked beneath his talon fingernails.
“Halldora has been expecting you.” The hideous troll shoved a roll in his mouth and swallowed it whole. His beady stare skimmed over Beth. “We have a hard journey ahead of us tomorrow.”
Quinn sat across from the eccentric little creature, his lips thinned with anger. He shot cold looks at Vakr. “How did ye know where to find us? And how in Bloody Hell did ye get on board?”
Vakr leaned his head over the plate of freshly cooked grouse. Drool dripped from his fangs onto the juicy meat.
Quinn’s face twisted in disgust, and he pushed the meat plate in front of Vakr. “If ye want more food, ye best start answerin’ some of me questions.”
Vakr chuckled, taking his sweet time devouring the cooked bird. He licked his grubby fingers.
Quinn sat staring, impatiently drumming his fingers on the table.
Vakr belched, grabbed another hot roll filled with dripping honey, and slid to a sitting position in the chair.
“’Tis no matter how I got here. Without my help, the trolls will not let you near Halldora’s entrance. I will spend the night here. With her.” He pointed a greasy finger at Beth. “She best get some rest before tomorrow.”
Quinn jumped to his feet, sending the chair flying backward. He grabbed Vakr’s collar by the back of his neck.
Kalista shrieked and glided in front of Beth.
Beth cradled Kalista in her hand and grabbed Quinn’s arm. “Wait. Don’t hurt him.”
“I willna allow this despicable troll to spend one night in the same room with ye, woman.” Quinn clenched his teeth.
“It certainly won’t kill the four of us to spend one night together. You know Kalista won’t let any harm come to me,” Beth pleaded. The odor growing stronger, she cleared her throat and raced to unlatch and crack the window above the bunk for some fresh air.
“Ye canna be serious, woman. How can ye even consider spendin’ much time confined in here with this disgustin’ wicked creature?” Quinn’s eyes narrowed. He held the troll at arm’s length. His nostrils flared. “Bloody Hell, even with a bath, I suspect he’d still reek of rot and stench.”
Vakr struggled, his eyes widening in horror at the suggestion of a bath.
Quinn bent to his knees and pushed his face in front of Vakr’s. “I warn ye, troll, if ye lay one finger on her, I’ll . . .”
“Her being cursed by the Maras is far worse than anything I could do to her. If you don’t want my help, tell me now, and I’ll leave, gladly.” Vakr shook himself like a wet dog shaking off water. “I have far better things to do with my time than spend the night with the likes of you shifters. And in case you humans don’t realize it, you have an undesirable stench of your own. ”
Beth’s fingers squeezed Quinn’s shoulders. “Please, Quinn. Our time is running out.”
The door burst open, and in strolled McGregor with a basket filled with more steaming fresh rolls and two corded flasks bulging from his coat pockets. “I brought plenty of me special brewed honey and some whiskey spirits to keep our wee friend and me company for the night. Ye two go on and try to get some rest. We’ll be fine.”
McGregor placed the basket and flasks on the table and grabbed a pipe and pouch of tobacco from inside his jacket.
The swirling tobacco smoke and fresh air blowing in from the open window helped mask the troll’s nasty scent.
Beth sighed with relief. McGregor never ceased to amaze her. She strolled over, kissed his cheek, and whispered in his ear, “How can I ever thank you?”
“By lettin’ Quinn help ye in findin’ a cure, lass.”
Quinn was in a foul mood after spending the entire night trapped inside a stuffy cabin with a stinking troll lying at his feet. He growled under his breath, holding the rocking boat steady while McGregor swung his legs over the side and offered his hand to Beth.
Trolls couldn’t be trusted. Especially this nasty, beady-eyed, fowl-smelling creature. Beth had already discovered her scroll showing them the exact location of the waterfall. The rotten feeling in his gut was growing worse each day like a vicious infection spreading inside an open wound.
Kalista fluttered her wings and soared from Beth’s hand and landed on Quinn’s shoulder.
Vakr jumped from the boat like a grasshopper and sprang on top of a tall mound covered with slick moss. Leaning his head back, he wrinkled his nose and motioned to them with his hand. “This way. Hurry.”
Sheep scattered across the rolling green hills as goats perched themselves on rocks leading to the high cliffs. Longhaired Shetland cattle grazed alongside. The air was pure and fresh. Quinn watched Beth’s face brighten while she stopped to admire a few inquisitive puffins. The petite, stocky black-and-white birds donned bright orange beaks and feet.
A white mist hovered over the mountains, the cool breeze brushing their faces as they made their incline up the steep slope. The rush of waves thrashed against the cliffs jutting rocks.
Vakr halted abruptly and held his hand over his head. Quinn grabbed McGregor’s arm to keep him from stumbling over the troll.
Two giant trolls with broad shaggy backs hunched over knobby knees, sauntered from behind a boulder. Their hairy hands dragged behind them on the ground. The Faroe Island natives called them Trows. Pale-faced with long droopy noses, huge round eyes, and bushy eyebrows, their enormous
bodies towered over their grumpy leader. A third eye was centered in the middle of each of their foreheads. The three buck-teeth sticking out of one of their mouths was the only way to tell the otherwise-identical twins apart.
They stood gawking at Beth, dumbfounded. Vakr barked, mumbling orders to them. They turned and headed behind the boulder.
“Come.” Vakr pointed toward the twins.
Fairy-tale wooden houses, built inside the hill and covered with mounds of moss and grass, lined a steep winding pebbled path. Elfin troll children’s heads stuck through open windows. Curious glassy eyes peered down at them. The kindhearted McGregor produced a flask of honey from his pocket and hobbled over to one of the huts and offered some to a petite troll girl. Her mother tugged the wiggling child back inside and slammed the shutters closed.
The Trows hustled beside McGregor and held out their hands. McGregor chuckled and dipped a finger full of honey in his own mouth before offering it to the troll twins.
Squawking birds swooped down to the sea and clutched fish between their claws.
Beth’s heartbeat thundered in Quinn’s ears. He felt her pulse racing as they passed the last waterfall and kept traveling. Quinn was beyond the point of losing his patience. They’d been walking a steady pace all afternoon. He peered over his shoulder at McGregor. The old man was favoring his leg but hadn’t complained. “Wait. We need to stop and rest.”
Beth covered her forehead with the back of her hand and peered at the sky. The sun was setting. With a heavy sigh, she bent over and gripped her knees. “How much longer before we meet Halldora, Vakr?”