by Katy Baker
Logan was never far away and more than once he caught her by the wrist or touched her shoulder to point out something she'd missed. Each time he did her skin tingled. Thea lost all track of time and had no idea what time it was when the dolphins finally finished their hunting and swam out to sea. Thea and Logan trod water, watching them go.
"I reckon that’s our cue to have breakfast," Logan said. "Swim to shore whilst I fetch the boat.”
Thea did as she was bid, making her way to the beach. It was not a cold morning but the ever-present sea breeze was enough to chill her wet skin. She did her best to wring out her hair and her shift before settling on a large flat rock to wait for Logan.
Out in the bay, he swam over to the boat and hoisted himself over the side before settling onto a bench, taking up the oars and rowing expertly into shore. As the prow of the little boat scraped the beach, Thea hurried to help him tug it up the tide line until it was high enough that the tide wouldn't float it out again. Reaching inside the boat, Logan handed Thea a large basket that was so heavy she had to stagger with it two-handed up the beach to a large flat rock.
"What have you got in here?" she asked. "Cannon balls?"
She set the basket down and was grateful when Logan handed her a blanket to wrap around her shoulders as she folded cross-legged onto the rock. The sea breeze would dry her quickly but she realized the thin shift she was wearing was clinging to her body in a way that was a little too revealing. Logan pretended not to notice and seated himself next to her, pulling a blanket around his own shoulders and hiding the swirling tattoo on his chest.
Thea busied herself with the basket. Opening the lid, she took out bread, cheese, butter, boiled eggs and some greens left over from last night's dinner. There was a stoppered bottle of ale to wash it down with. The breakfast was a million miles from the chai latte and almond croissant Thea normally preferred but at the moment it seemed like the best feast she'd ever laid eyes on—and it was all because of the man who watched her intently as she laid it all out.
They ate in silence. The only sound was the sighing of the waves and the raucous cries of seabirds. When she'd eaten her fill Thea stretched her legs out and leaned back on her hands, watching the waves as they gently lapped at the shore. She let out a long sigh.
"What is it, lass?" Logan asked. "Is something wrong?"
"No," she replied, turning to look at him. "It's just the opposite. I feel...I don’t know what I feel. At ease, I guess, being here like this. With you." She hadn’t meant to say that last bit but the words tumbled out before she could stop them.
He watched her for a moment, his eyes dark and unreadable. "I'm glad. I thought ye might be distraught that we havenae found a way for ye to travel home yet. That ye'd be stuck here for a while longer."
She couldn't bear the intensity of his gaze. If he kept looking at her like that she would lose herself completely and say something stupid. Something like no, I’m not distraught at all. In fact, I’m glad you didn’t find Irene because that means I can stay here with you for a bit longer. Because I’m not sure I want to leave at all anymore.
Such words were dangerous, leading her towards possibilities she dare not contemplate, so instead of answering she jumped to her feet and strode down to the boat. Reaching inside, she grabbed her dress that was crumpled in a heap on the bottom and pulled it over her head. The shift underneath was still damp but she could put up with that.
Behind her Logan cleared away the breakfast things.
"If ye are ready, lass," he said, coming to stand by her side, “we’d best be heading back to the croft.”
She glanced up at him. “Thank you. For this morning. I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed it.” On impulse she went up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek.
He startled and then went very still, staring down at her. His lips parted slightly and for a second she wished he would kiss her. But then he cleared his throat and stepped back, tossing the basket into the boat.
“Ye are welcome, lass. Now let’s get aboard before the tide comes in.”
Thea clambered into the boat and they began their journey home.
Chapter 11
The next time he saw Rhodry, Logan thought as they cast off from the beach, he would be sure to thank the man. It had been a grand idea of his to do something special for Thea. This morning had been perfect, far better than he’d dared to hope. When was the last time he felt so alive? So free?
As he rowed he couldn’t help looking at Thea. She was leaning against the side of the boat, her chin propped on one hand, her other hand trailing lazily in the water. Ah, Lord but she was beautiful.
“Who’s that?” Thea asked, shading her eyes against the sunlight as she peered ahead.
Somebody was standing on the end of the jetty. A sliver of unease went through Logan. Had Eoin’s thugs come back after all?
But he relaxed when they drew closer and he realized it was only Gregor, an old farmer whose land adjoined Logan’s. He guided the boat alongside the jetty and tossed Gregor the rope so he could secure it to the iron ring. Once the boat was moored, he leaped out and then helped Thea to disembark.
Curiosity shone in Gregor’s eyes as he looked Thea over but he didn’t say anything.
“Ye go on up to the cottage, lass,” Logan instructed her. “I just need a word with Gregor here. I’ll be along shortly.”
Thea nodded, grabbed the basket, and walked off along the jetty.
Gregor came to stand next to Logan as he watched her go. “So that’s the lass?” he said in his deep voice. “The outlander?”
“Aye, that’s her,” Logan agreed. “What can I do for ye, my friend?”
Gregor scratched his beard then hooked his thumbs into his belt. “It’s more what I can do for ye. That old woman ye were asking about? Irene MacAskill was it? There’s been word of her.”
A jolt went through Logan. “When? Where?”
“My youngest, Seamus, has just come back from Dun Ringill. There’s a woman there works the market sometimes by the name ye gave me. Sells herbs and remedies and such like. Lanced a boil for the wee lad by all accounts.”
“When was this?” Logan asked. “How recently?”
“Day afore yesterday I believe. I thought I’d best come over and tell ye, ye being so keen on finding her and all.”
Logan’s pulse quickened. Irene was in Dun Ringill? Could it really be her? He nodded and clapped Gregor on the shoulder. “Ye have my thanks, friend. Will ye come back to the house and share a bite to eat and some ale?”
The old man shook his head. “I’ve left old Daisy and the cart by the trail. I’d best be getting back before Morag starts wondering what I’m up to. I swear she thinks I’m a bairn who canna look after myself.”
Logan laughed. “Then ye’d better not give her any excuse to scold ye. Thank ye for bringing me this news.”
He walked with Gregor to the end of the jetty where the old farmer’s pony and cart were waiting. He waved him off and then began walking along the trail towards his croft, deep in thought.
This was the news he’d been waiting for. If Irene had a stall at Dun Ringill it was likely she lived in the town, or at least nearby. He had to tell Thea the good news.
Good news? he thought suddenly. Is it? Irene will send Thea home and she’ll be gone from yer life. Is that what ye want?
His mood soured. Damn it all! Why did this have to happen now? After the perfect morning they’d spent together? It they rode to Dun Ringill this afternoon, by evening Thea could be gone.
The thought clenched his stomach so tight he stumbled, almost losing his footing.
One more night, he told himself. I’ll tell Thea in the morning and we’ll go to Dun Ringill tomorrow. One more night willnae hurt, will it?
His mind made up, Logan strode for home.
***
Thea seated herself at the table but found she couldn’t settle. Logan had returned briefly after talking to the farmer to tell her he was going to work
in the smithy and then had promptly ducked out again. He’d seemed distant and distracted.
No different to me, she thought. I can’t seem to get my thoughts straightened out at all.
It had been a wonderful morning but now Thea felt more confused than ever. She couldn’t stop thoughts of Logan running through her head. The small room suddenly felt claustrophobic. She had to get out. On impulse she pulled her pack from under the bed and took out her camera which she slung over her shoulder. Taking a deep breath she stood and made her way out into the yard. From the smithy she heard the clink of metal.
She spun on her heel and onto the trail that hugged the cliffs. Soon the sound of the smithy was lost in the distance, replaced by the whine of the wind and the cries of seabirds and Thea felt her tension unwinding. She sucked in a great, deep breath and let it out slowly, allowing her mind to settle on the moment.
She held her camera loosely, scanning the terrain for anything that would make a good shot. Seabirds wheeled in the air but most were moving too quickly for her to capture, and besides, it was the dolphins she really wanted to snap.
Up ahead, she spotted the fork in the trail that led down onto the beach and scrambled down it. The tide was out, leaving a line of sea-weed and shells high up on the sand. Thea picked her way down to the water’s edge and found herself a rock to sit on. She scanned the waves, searching for that telltale glint of a fin or a sleek back breaking the surface.
As she waited, eyes scanning the water, she felt herself settle into the serene stillness that always overcame her when on an assignment like this. There was only her, the camera and her subject. Everything else—thoughts of Logan, her worries about getting home—receded into the distance, leaving her feeling calm and centered.
The dolphins didn’t appear—they’d probably swam out to sea or moved further down the coast—so Thea contented herself with photographing the wading birds down at the water’s edge and the seals who were basking on the rocks.
She lost track of time and the sun was climbing towards midday when she decided to take a break and examine her pictures. The red light on the top of her camera was starting to blink, indicating her battery was running low. When it ran out, she would have no way of recharging it.
With a sigh she activated the screen, taking this final opportunity to look at her pictures before the battery gave out all together. As she scrolled through what she’d captured, the images of the wading birds and seals were quickly replaced by the photographs she’d shot before she fell through time. Her stomach clenched as she saw once more the images of the hotel she’d been staying in and the sights of Glenmorrow. What would Logan think if he saw these photos? Would he be as shocked as she’d been when she’d first arrived here?
She moved on, knowing what was coming next. Sure enough, a picture of the standing stones popped onto the screen and Thea shuddered as she looked at the arch that brought her here.
She hadn’t looked at the image since the day she arrived but now she understood things a little better the arch took on a most sinister aspect. Her eyes alighted on the swirling pattern running down the pillars—the pattern that had only appeared when she touched it.
Activating the zoom function, she took a closer look. The pattern consisted of a series of interlocking coils, three joined spirals that seemed to have no beginning and no end. Where had she seen it before?
And then everything suddenly came together. Of course she had seen this before! Just that morning. In the tattoo that curled across Logan’s chest.
She thought suddenly of the last verse from Laird’s Curse.
The mark of the Fae burned into his skin, a brand for all to see, tis the sign of his fateful bargain, and the way to set him free.
A shiver walked down her spine. Oh god. It couldn’t be. Could it?
“Thea?”
She spun, scrambling to her feet with a cry of fright.
Logan was standing a few steps away. “What are ye doing here?” he asked gruffly. His eyes flicked to her camera and widened in surprise.
Thea glanced down and realized the display was still showing the photo of the stones. Involuntarily her eyes strayed to Logan’s chest, where the plaid sash crossed his pectoral. The tattoo was under there, hidden, like so much about him.
“What is that unholy device?” he demanded. “I’ve never seen the like. What manner of devilry could capture an image like that?”
His voice was wary and his stance defensive. Damn it. She’d been so careless. Why had she taken the camera out of the house? Did she really think Logan wouldn’t find out?
He held out his hand. “Give it to me.”
Thea snatched the camera away. “No.”
“Why not?” Logan growled. “Because it might reveal who ye really are? Because it might expose the secrets ye’ve been hiding?”
“My secrets?” Thea cried. “That’s rich! You’ve been lying to me from the start! Why don’t you tell me who you really are, Logan MacAuley!”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I dinna know what ye are talking about.”
Thea glared at him, brandishing the image on the camera screen. “Why don’t you tell me why you have a tattoo that exactly matches the one on the archway that brought me here? Why don’t you tell me why you live out here alone? Why don’t you tell me why you never want to talk about your brothers? Or why nobody can remember the old Laird MacAuley? Or why you look so god-damned uncomfortable whenever he’s mentioned?”
A tiny vein throbbed in his temple, betraying his tension. He didn’t say anything for a long moment but when he did, it wasn’t the response Thea had been expecting.
“What do ye mean ‘the archway that brought ye here?’”
Thea blinked. “What? I never said that.”
“Aye, ye did. Ye said an archway brought ye here but that isnae what ye told me. Ye said Irene MacAskill arranged for yer travel from yer homeland. Which is it?” Quick as a flash he snatched the camera from her and peered at the image of the archway. He paled. “What do ye know of this place?” he demanded. “Tell me!”
Thea swallowed. Oh, shit. What was she supposed to say? Oh, that place brought me from the twenty-first century. Are you okay with that?
Logan took another step towards her. His eyes flashed with anger. “Ye will tell me the truth!” he growled. “What connection do ye have to the stones of Druach? Why do ye have an image of them? Tell me, lass!”
A shiver of fear walked down Thea’s spine. She’d never seen Logan so angry. “I...I...that’s where I met Irene MacAskill when I first came here. Then a storm came. You know the rest.” She didn’t mention that Irene had brought her through those stones from the future.
Logan cursed and his hands curled into fists. “Damn her!” he growled. “Damn all of them and their meddling! Why canna they leave me be?”
“Logan you’re scaring me. What’s going on? What is your connection to these stones? Why do you have a tattoo with the same markings?”
The thought of the truth scared her. What might it reveal about Logan, about her and why she was here?
She met his gaze. “Tell me, Logan. Please.”
***
Logan glanced down at the picture of the stones of Druach and then out at the sea. What, by all that’s holy, was this thing of Thea’s? The way it captured images was unnatural. Why hadn’t she told him about it? And about her connection with the stones of Druach?
Irene brought her ashore by the stones, he thought. Coincidence? Unlikely. He had to work out what was going on here, for both their sakes.
“I hoped never to see this place again,” he breathed. “It is a dark place. A place of the Fae.”
He handed the camera back to Thea then pulled off his shirt. The cool sea breeze sent goose bumps riding across his skin—and across the black tattoo that covered one half of his chest.
“It is the mark of the Fae,” he said. “It proclaims the bargain I made and the curse I bear as a result.”
“Th
e mark of the Fae burned into his skin,” Thea muttered.
She reached a hand towards his tattoo. He caught her hand before she could touch it.
“Nay, lass. Ye mustnae. Did ye not hear what I said? I am cursed.”
“A brand for all to see, tis the sign of his fateful bargain, and the way to set him free,” Thea breathed. “My god, it’s not just a story. It’s all true.” Her eyes snapped up to meet his. “You’re him aren’t you? The MacAuley laird? The one nobody can remember?”
He stared at her for a moment before letting out a long breath. “Aye. I was once Laird MacAuley. Long ago. In another lifetime.”
“And your curse?”
Logan passed a hand across his face. “In return for the strength to save my people I sold my soul. I thought the Fae would take my life in payment. They didnae. Instead they cursed me to be forever alone. Anyone who stays near me too long dies.”
Something cold slid down Logan’s spine. He didn’t want to remember that night, the night he and his brothers stood by the stones of Druach and spoke the words that sealed their fate. He didn’t want to remember the terrible exhilaration that came afterwards and the power that ran through his veins as he and his brothers had destroyed their enemies.
“It’s all in the book,” Thea breathed. “Irene’s book. There was a story in there that reminded me of what Mary told me about the previous laird—of how he and his brothers saved their clan from destruction but disappeared afterwards. I thought it was just a story because it talked of them making a bargain with the Fae." Her gaze sharpened. "But it was true. It told your story, Logan."
He scrubbed a hand through his hair as he tried to make sense of what Thea was telling him.