by Katy Baker
Thea was watching him warily. “What is it?” she asked. “You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Maybe I have,” he muttered. “Maybe we both have.”
Could it be coincidence? Unlikely. He’d learned from bitter experience that such things didn’t happen by chance.
“You know something, don’t you?” Thea said. “Tell me!”
Logan straightened and drew in a deep breath. Was the lass somehow in league with Irene? Or was she just another unsuspecting victim pulled into her plans? And how was he to know?
“Let me get this straight: Irene MacAskill brought ye across the ocean, met ye here, and then disappeared?”
Thea nodded.
“And ye have no kin here at all? Nobody who could take care of ye?”
She shook her head, her eyes round. “I don’t know anybody here. Only Mr and Mrs MacGregor who run the hotel. Look, could you take me to a police station or something? I just want to go home.” Her voice sounded frightened now.
He held out a hand and spoke gently. “I would if I could, lass, but ye use words I dinna understand. I dinna ken what ye mean by ‘police station’ or ‘hotel’. All I know is that I suspect Irene MacAskill is at the root of this. If I guess correctly, she is of the Fae and they are known for their mischief. What she wants with ye, I canna say. But if she is the one that brought ye here, she is the one that can answer yer questions and arrange for ye to go home—wherever that might be. We must find her.”
Thea was staring at him incredulously. “Fae? As in ‘fairy’? You are kidding, right?”
He didn’t reply, only met her gaze steadily. They stared at each other for a moment then Thea threw up her hands. “This is crazy! You really expect me to believe that I’ve been whisked here by some fairy? I’m surrounded by crazy people! Look, thanks for your help but I’ll find my own way back to the hotel from here—”
Her tirade cut off as she staggered again, eyes rolling back in her head. Logan grabbed her arm before she could hit the ground.
“Gerroff,” she muttered. “I’m fine.”
“Ye most definitely are not fine,” Logan growled, pulling one of her arms over his shoulder. He’d seen people with head injuries on the battlefield and knew how unpredictable they could be. The lass needed a healer.
Curse the Fae and their damned meddling! Hadn’t they done enough to him? He’d dared to hope he would be free of them after he made his bargain but it seemed they weren’t done with him yet. Curse them all!
“Come,” he said. “There is naught to be gained by lingering here. We must return to my croft.”
“No,” Thea protested weakly. “We have to find the road. And the hotel. I need to go home.”
“Aye, I know that,” he said. “And we will. We’ll find Irene—I give ye my word. But not this instant. Right now ye need rest and healing.”
For a wonder, she didn’t protest as he carried her to Stepper and lifted her into the saddle. She swayed and for one heart-stopping minute, Logan feared she would fall, but she gripped the horse’s mane in both hands and managed to steady herself.
Logan mounted behind her. “Here, lass. Lean back against me. I willnae let ye fall.”
It was a measure of how bad she was feeling that she did so without complaint. Her body felt warm where it pressed against his and his skin tingled where her hair brushed him.
An unexpected surge of protectiveness welled inside him. Aye, she’d burst into his life like a thunderclap, turning it upside down, but he’d protect her, make sure she was safe. From everything. Even himself.
Pulling in a deep breath, he turned towards home.
Chapter 5
The pounding in Thea's head was so hard she was sure it was going to crack her skull. She wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and go to sleep, let all this craziness disappear.
Concussion, a voice whispered in the back of her mind. You have concussion.
That was why she'd dreamed all this up, right? Maybe she'd hit her head so hard that she was in some sort of hallucination. Maybe that was why nothing made sense anymore.
But no. Who was she kidding? The feel of the wind, the motion of the horse, and most of all the solid presence of the man behind her was way too real to be any injury-induced hallucination. So, as they rode steadily back towards Logan's cottage, she fought off the dizziness and lassitude that kept threatening to pull her into unconsciousness and forced herself to think.
It had all begun when she had stepped under that archway. She'd emerged in a different place. Since then she'd been unable to find any trappings of her normal life. No car. No phone signal. No Glenmorrow.
And no damned Irene MacAskill.
A terrible thought sprang to life at the back of her mind but she pushed it away. No. She would not think that. It was too terrifying to contemplate.
There had to be a rational explanation—she just had to find it. So, what did she know about her situation? She was still in the Highlands of Scotland. Logan, the only person she'd met since passing through the arch, lived alone in a rustic cottage with none of the comforts of modern life. He wore traditional dress and rode a horse rather than drove a car. He'd never heard of half the things Thea mentioned and claimed to have no knowledge of the US. Which was utterly ridiculous. Unless...
She suddenly sat bolt upright in the saddle, clutching at the saddle horn with white knuckles. That terrifying thought reared up again and this time it wouldn’t be silenced.
The saddle creaked as Logan shifted behind her. "What is it, lass?"
Thea worked her jaw but no words came out. Images flashed through her head. Irene MacAskill’s smiling face. A stone archway with blue sky beyond. A storm raging around her. Sinking, down, down, and then emerging somewhere....else.
She licked her lips, working up enough saliva to speak. She took a deep breath and asked the question which had been building inside her. "Logan, what year is this?"
"It is the twenty-seventh year of the reign of our King James V. 1540 Why? What year did ye expect it to be?"
Thea reeled and clutched the saddle horn even tighter. Logan pulled the horse to a halt and wrapped one arm around her to steady her.
"Thea? What’s wrong?"
Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god!
Panic tried to claw its way up Thea's throat and for a second she could hardly think, hardly breathe.
Calm, she told herself. Breathe. Think.
Taking deep breaths, she forced the panic down. "I'm fine," she lied. “Just another dizzy spell.”
Logan nudged the horse into a walk again but his arm stayed wrapped around her waist. Thea found herself clinging to him. His presence was the only thing of solidity in a suddenly shaky world.
She was in the past! She had traveled back in time by hundreds of years! It was the only thing that made sense. It would explain why the shoreline by the stones of Druach had changed. It would explain why there was no cell signal and no sign of her car. It would explain why Logan dressed the way he did and looked at her as if she was a lunatic when she'd asked him about getting a cab.
This couldn't be happening. It couldn’t. How had a simple job photographing wildlife led to this? It had all started with Irene MacAskill. She was the one who had arranged for her to come to Scotland. She was the one who’d encouraged her to step through the arch. Could Logan be right? Could she be one of these ‘Fae’ with the power to bring her back in time? And if so, could Thea find her here, in this time? Could she send Thea home?
Yes, she told herself. That’s it. Find Irene and your problem is solved.
By the time they reached Logan's home, Thea was feeling a little calmer although the pounding in her head had not abated and she staggered and almost fell when she tried to dismount. She didn't have the energy to protest as Logan picked her up, carried her into the little house, and laid her down on the bed in the corner.
She sank gratefully onto the mattress, surprised to find it soft and comfortable. Sleep was trying t
o pull her under again and her thoughts were starting to turn fuzzy. Logan knelt by her side. Concern creased his features.
Thea found herself staring at him. Those eyes. They were so deep she could drown in them. On impulse she reached out and cupped his cheek in her hand. He startled as though he would pull away but he didn't. He tolerated the touch for a moment before reaching up and gently taking her hand away.
“I have to leave ye for a while."
"Leave me? Here? Alone?" she said, hating the fear that filled her voice. She couldn’t help it. He was the only familiar thing in this world of strangeness.
"Only for a little while. I need to fetch a healer. Sleep. I will be back before ye know it."
He threw a blanket over her and Thea was suddenly warmer and snugger than she could remember in a long time. She tried to fight it but the lethargy was spreading. Sleep rose up and grabbed her.
***
She woke with a jerk some time later. She glanced at her watch, only to realize that it, like her cell phone, had been ruined by her dunking in the sea. She couldn’t tell how much time had passed but from the quality of the light, she guessed not much. There was no sign of Logan.
She pushed back the blanket and sat up, wincing at the pounding in the back of her skull. What she wouldn’t give for a couple of aspirin right now! What did people do for headaches in this time? Grin and bear it?
Rubbing her sore head with one hand, Thea looked around. Her eyes alighted on a bundle sitting on the end of the bed and her heart leapt. Her backpack! It was sitting atop her clothes which had been neatly folded into a pile. She scrambled over to it and quickly undid the flaps. Sure enough, all the belongings she'd brought on this trip were inside—including her beloved camera.
She lifted it out, examining it carefully for any signs of damage. There were none. It must have dropped from her shoulder before she went over the cliff and Logan had rescued it. It was the first bit of good news she’d had since arriving in this time.
She set the camera reverently down on the bed and pulled out the rest of the pack's contents. There wasn't much: a thermos flask full of cold coffee, a money pouch with a few pounds in it—useless in this time—and the book Irene MacAskill had left for her by the stones. She frowned, turning it over in her hands then scanned the contents page. The first title read The Troll and the Princess, the second read Spirit of Culmaggin and so it went. Thea frowned. Why would Irene MacAskill give her a book of folk tales? She flipped to the front and read again the scrawled message on the inside.
This will help ye find what ye are looking for. I.
How would a book of folk tales help her find anything? Were there clues to how she could get home hidden in this book? She shook her head. How the hell was she supposed to know?
Thea reached for the flask and poured herself a drink—cold coffee was better than no coffee—then scooted back on the bed until her back was against the wall and sat with the book propped open on her knees. Sipping her coffee and doing her best to ignore her headache, she began to read.
Once upon a time, she read. Thea rolled her eyes. Great. She really was sitting here reading fairy tales.
The sound of hoof beats startled Thea from her reading. Voices came from outside. She quickly downed her coffee then stuffed her flask, camera, and Irene's book into her backpack and shoved it all under the bed.
She mustn't let anyone see her belongings. How would she explain them? The last thing she wanted was anyone suspecting the truth about where she’d come from. They might burn her for being a witch or something!
She scooted to the edge of the bed just as the door opened and Logan strode in. At the sight of him Thea's stomach did an odd little flip.
"Thea," he said in his deep voice. "I’m glad to see ye awake."
She nodded then winced as a shot of pain went right down the back of her neck.
"Aye, and it looks like she shouldnae be," said another voice. A woman pushed past Logan and knelt by Thea's side. She had honey-colored hair gathered in a braid and looked to be around the same age as Thea.
"My name is Ailsa MacAuley of Clan MacAuley," the woman said. "I'm mighty pleased to make yer acquaintance, my lady. Logan fetched me to see to ye. He said ye took a tumble into the water and may have hit yer head."
My lady? Where had that come from?
"I...um...yes," Thea muttered, a little flustered. Not knowing what else to do, she stuck out her hand. "Please call me Thea."
Ailsa shared a startled glance with Logan and then reached out to take Thea's hand. Her eyebrows rose.
"Ye are burning!” Ailsa pressed her hand to Thea's forehead and tutted. "Logan!" she commanded brusquely. "Bring my bag."
Logan picked up a small hessian satchel from where it sat by the door and brought it over to Ailsa. The blonde woman took it and began rummaging inside. It was filled with little packets, all carefully labeled. She pulled out several and placed them on the floor by her feet.
She looked up at Logan who was hovering by her shoulder. "I canna work with ye crowding me," she said. "Go outside. I'm sure Rhodry could do with yer help."
"I will leave when I know Thea will be all right," he replied. He had a stubborn set to his jaw.
It didn’t have any effect on Ailsa. "She will be well as long as ye give me the space to work. Now out!"
Logan looked from Ailsa to Thea and back again. He held up his hands. "Fine! But call me if ye need anything."
With that he turned and strode out, pulling the door shut behind him. Thea was left alone with Ailsa. The blonde woman smiled and rolled her eyes at Thea as if to say 'men!'
"I need to feel yer head if ye dinna mind," she said. "I willnae hurt ye."
"I...um...okay," Thea replied.
She bent her neck and Ailsa began gently probing the back of her head and neck with gentle fingers.
"Aye," she said. "Ye hit yer head all right. Ye have quite the lump on the back of yer bonce but the skin doesnae look broken so yer skull shoudnae be either. Ye will have a headache and some dizziness for a few days but once we take the edge off yer pain, ye should begin to recover."
She took two packets from the selection she'd placed on the floor and tipped some of their contents into a beaker of water. She stirred it then handed it to Thea. "Here, drink it all down. It will help with any dizziness or sickness. I will leave it here. Make sure ye take it three times a day."
Thea took the proffered beaker and sniffed it. A smell like pine needles assaulted her nostrils. "You're a doctor?" she asked.
Ailsa snorted. "Logan warned me that I may not know some of the words ye say. I dinna ken what ye mean by ‘doctor’ but if ye mean a healer then I suppose ye could call me that. I have some knowledge of herbs and their applications passed down from my mother and grandmother. Now drink it all down."
Thea set the beaker to her lips and downed the concoction in one long swallow. The taste was so bitter it made her grimace but she swallowed the lot. “Thanks. It's kind of you to come see me."
Ailsa waved her hand. "Think naught of it. When Logan arrived at our croft and told us yer story I knew it was the least I could do. It must be mighty frightening being lost so far from home, without illness and injury to add to it."
Thea met Ailsa's gaze and saw curiosity shining in her eyes. She wondered what Logan had told her. "Yes, it is."
Ailsa smiled and patted Thea's hand. "Come. Let me help ye wash and dress. I always find that a good soak and clean clothes make me feel better."
Before Thea could reply, Ailsa took down a large metal basin from the corner of the room and began filling it with water from the kettle. She added some cold from the water jug and then tipped in some powder from another of her packets. The smell of jasmine suddenly stole through the room.
"It isnae as grand as up at the castle of course. Up there they have tubs so big ye can lie in them and servants to bring hot water." There was a wistful tone to her voice. "Come, lift yer hair so I can unwind the plaid."
Thea gathered up her hair and Ailsa deftly untied the knot on Thea's shoulder, unraveling the plaid that Logan had lent her. Thea tried to hide her embarrassment as she was left sitting naked. Ailsa though, didn't bat an eyelid at Thea's state of undress. Maybe there were different ideas of privacy in this time.
Ailsa watched Thea patiently and Thea realized she was waiting for her to get into the tub. Heat flushed Thea's cheeks. Was the woman going to stay while she bathed? Was this how it was done in this time? She'd only just met the woman!
"Would you mind turning around?"
Ailsa laughed lightly then turned her back whilst Thea climbed into the tub, submerging herself until the soapy water covered her up to her chin. It felt wonderful. The warmth, coupled with the jasmine, coupled with whatever had been in the concoction Ailsa had given her, made her muscles relax for the first time in days.
"Oh my, that's good.”
"Told ye," Ailsa said. "There is naught like a good soak for clearing the mind and body both. That's what my ma always says."
"Your mother sounds like a very wise woman,” Thea replied. “I'd like to meet her."
"Then ye shall!" Ailsa said with obvious delight. "Ye must visit us as soon as ye are able. I know my mother would be delighted to meet ye, as would the rest of my unruly family."
Thea met Ailsa’s gaze and smiled. She felt as though she’d made a friend. "I'd love to."
"That's settled then. Now lean forward and I will scrub yer back."
Thea did as she was bid although it felt strange. She'd not been this pampered since...well, she couldn't remember when. As Ailsa scrubbed her back and then her hair, Thea drew Ailsa into conversation. She needed to find out as much as she could about this strange place she found herself in.
"You said something about a castle?"
"Dun Ringill," Ailsa replied. "It's the seat of Laird MacAuley. We live on his lands although we’re right on the edge. The castle lies many miles to the north. In better days I might have sent up to the castle for a healer for ye. The previous laird would have sent one, that's for sure.” She sighed dramatically. “But I doubt the new one would.” Then she smiled. “There! Yer hair is done. The water is growing tepid too. If ye’ve had enough, I’ll help ye to dress.”