by Donna Grant
Galen sighed, his worry settling like a stone in his gut.
The worst of the pain had faded, but Reaghan’s body was shaky and weak. Mairi had known instantly what had occurred and gone to her. Reaghan wasn’t about to push aside her offer of assistance, not when she could barely walk on her own.
“How bad is it?” Mairi whispered.
“The worst has passed.”
“You are still in pain.”
It wasn’t a question. “Only a little.”
Mairi’s lips flattened in a tight line, her brow furrowed in concern. “You need to rest. Let me speak to the Warriors.”
“Nay,” Reaghan replied more forcefully than she intended. “Leave it, please. I will be all right.”
“As you wish,” Mairi said, but there was doubt in her tone.
Reaghan didn’t care that the elder disagreed with her. She would get past the headache without Galen knowing. It was foolish, she knew, but Reaghan wanted him to see her as strong and capable. Not weak and sickly.
She had known Galen wanted to speak with her. It took all her control not to turn her head to him and drink in the sight of his muscular form in the glow of the morning sun.
He had worn his dark blond hair loose ever since the battle with the wyrran. It fell in waves around his face, accentuating his square jaw and bringing out the bronze color of his skin. She itched to run her fingers through the thick strands again as his arms held her tightly against his chest.
Reaghan took a deep breath and tried to quell the desire that awoke in her body with just a thought of Galen. It warmed her blood and made her heart race until it settled between her legs in a pulsing ache.
The pain that had clouded her vision and weakened her began to abate. Reaghan let her arms drop from around Mairi, no longer needing to lean on the elder.
“When did the pain begin?” Mairi asked.
Reaghan shrugged. “It woke me from my slumber. I didn’t have any pain yesterday, so I thought it might be going away.”
“Nay, my child,” Mairi mumbled. “I’m afraid that isn’t so.”
Reaghan frowned and turned her head to Mairi. “How do you know this?”
“The headaches have been coming on for over a month now. I don’t think they would just go away so easily.”
Since Mairi had her head down Reaghan couldn’t see into her eyes and discern if she was lying. Reaghan wanted to believe the elder, but she wasn’t sure she could. Mairi’s reasoning was plausible, but there had been something in her voice that told Reaghan the elder knew more than she said.
Reaghan decided a direct approach would be her best strategy. “You wouldn’t keep anything from me about this, would you, Mairi?”
“All I want is for you to be safe from Deirdre. I would never endanger you.”
Reaghan’s heart fell. Mairi hadn’t answered her question, and that in itself was all the response Reaghan needed. The higher the sun rose the more sadness crept over her. Because she realized that something about her past, something about the pain in her head, was being kept from her.
It made Reaghan begin to analyze everything Mairi had ever told her. She knew the elder cared for her, of that there was no doubt. But why did Mairi persist in keeping things about her past hidden?
Reaghan continued to keep her distance from Galen, since she wasn’t yet ready to talk to him. She suspected he had seen she was in pain and would want to know why. Even if he hadn’t seen her this morning, he would know something was wrong now. Though she longed to confide in someone, Galen had enough to worry about with getting all of them to MacLeod Castle.
After their first rest, Reaghan positioned herself near Odara. The elder was having a difficult time of it, her small frame barely able to keep up. Reaghan gave her a drink from the water skin and wrapped an arm around her.
“You are good to me,” Odara said.
Reaghan smiled. “Why wouldn’t I be? You’ve always been kind to me.”
“Mairi tells me you had another headache this morning.”
“Aye.” Reaghan looked into the kindly green eyes. “Why do I feel as though Mairi knows more about my past than she is telling me? Why do I feel as though she knows what is happening to me, but refuses to help?”
Odara sighed, her wrinkles becoming more pronounced as she frowned. “Mairi just wants what’s best for you. We all do, sweetling.”
“I want an honest answer. Why can’t anyone tell me what I want to know?”
“Sometimes not knowing is for the best.”
“Only those with that knowledge would dare to speak those words.”
Odara narrowed her gaze at Reaghan. “You think I enjoy keeping secrets? It kills the soul slowly and surely every day those secrets are kept.”
“Then tell me. Tell me why my past is such a secret,” Reaghan pleaded.
“If only it were that simple.” Odara released a pent-up breath. “Reaghan, all I will tell you is that your past is better left forgotten.”
Her words made a thread of fear wind around Reaghan’s spine. “And the headaches? You know what is causing them, don’t you?”
“Not exactly. I would love to take the pain from you, but I haven’t that kind of magic. The headaches will end soon.”
*
Brenna pulled back her magic and dropped her head in her hands as the fatigue pulled at her. She sat surrounded by the Druids of her village, their hands linked, murmuring ancient words to give her magic added strength.
“Well, daughter?”
Brenna lifted her head and looked into her father’s dark eyes. “The peregrine is still willing to allow me to use her vision and hearing. I’ve seen the Warriors once again. They are taking the Druids to MacLeod Castle.”
Her father, Kerwyn, was head of their village. He walked around her slowly as if digesting her words. He always took his time formulating things in his mind. Her father was never hasty about anything.
Until it came to asking her to use her magic to connect with a falcon and spy for him. It had begun as a favor to fellow Druids to ensure that a man once considered their ally no longer leaked their whereabouts.
But once her father learned just how great her power was, and how long she could stay connected to the falcon, he had bid her use the bird to observe the goings-on at MacLeod Castle.
Brenna, like most in her village, wasn’t sure if the rumors about the MacLeods being at their castle once more were true. One look, though, and she had not only seen the MacLeods but many other Warriors.
And Druids.
When the two Warriors had set out on a journey, Brenna had bid the peregrine follow them. Thankfully, the bird had done as she asked.
Brenna wasn’t sure how much longer she would be able to use the falcon. Not only was the peregrine eager to return to her home, but the Warriors had noticed the bird and were becoming suspicious.
“When can you connect with the falcon again?” her father asked.
“Give the child time to recover,” Daghda, one of the elders, stated.
Brenna met Daghda’s eyes and gave the woman a nod of thanks. Brenna could have connected with the peregrine again, but with rest she could keep the connection far longer.
Kerwyn stared at Brenna for several moments before he turned and walked out of the circle. Brenna was glad to know that she had been given a respite, but she was certain her father would return soon.
His need to know about the Warriors was more than interesting. From all Brenna had seen of the Warriors they were protecting the Druids.
It hadn’t taken the rumors long to reach the Isle of Skye about Warriors attacking Cairn Toul and Deirdre. Brenna hadn’t believed a word of it. Until she had listened to a conversation between the Warriors Logan and Galen.
It appeared they had not only attacked, but had succeeded in killing Deirdre. Except Deirdre wasn’t dead after all. She was just without a body.
“Brenna?” Daghda said as she knelt in front of her. Her gray hair was kept away from her face by intr
icate braids that joined together at the back of her neck to form one thick braid. “Are you well?”
Brenna smiled and patted the hand atop hers. “Aye. Just tired.”
“Kerwyn asks too much of you.”
“It is my obligation to help our village any way I can.”
Daghda snorted. “Not at the price of your life, child. You should tell your father you need your rest. If not, he will continue to push you until you are drained of all your magic.”
Brenna licked her lips as she rose to her feet. She helped Daghda to stand and together they walked out of the circle. “Why is my father so concerned with the MacLeods?”
“Ah,” Daghda said with a frown, her intelligent green eyes seeing much. “He doesn’t believe the MacLeods fight Deirdre. He fears they are there to draw Druids to them in a false plan to keep them from Deirdre, only to eventually turn all the Druids over to her.”
“Do you believe that as well?”
Daghda let out a long breath. “Child, at my age, I’ve learned not to jump to conclusions. Of all of us, you’ve seen the MacLeods and the Warriors at their castle the most. What do you think?”
“I’m not sure,” Gwynn murmured.
“Don’t think to lie to me.”
Brenna’s head jerked to the elder. The tone had been sharp, and Daghda’s eyes were soft as they stared at her. “I’m not sure anyone wants to hear my opinion.”
“I do,” Daghda said. “Now tell me.”
Brenna swallowed and glanced around to make sure no one was near as she walked Daghda to her cottage. “I believe the Warriors are fighting Deirdre. I watched as the two Warriors at Loch Awe battled the wyrran. If they were working with Deirdre, why not just let the wyrran take the Druids?”
“Good question. One I think you should pose to your father.”
But Brenna knew better than to question her father. On anything.
SIXTEEN
Galen was leading the group when he called a halt for the noon meal. It had taken all he and Logan could do to keep the Druids moving.
The only one not giving them problems was wee Braden. The lad had bonded with Logan, and it was obvious Logan had a soft spot for the boy. Braden seemed to sense when he could be with Logan and when he needed to stay with his mother and the other Druids.
“I fear we willna get them on their feet again,” Logan grumbled from beside Galen.
Galen shrugged and twirled a long blade of grass in his fingers as he lowered himself to the ground. “I cannot blame them. They are weary.” “We’ve taken twice as many breaks today as we did yesterday.”
“Aye, and yesterday the fear of wyrran tracking them was enough to spur them into action.”
Logan rubbed his temple with his thumb. “Makes me almost wish to spot a wyrran.”
“Does your god seek more blood already?”
“My god always wants more blood,” Logan answered cynically. “I couldna help but notice Reaghan has kept her distance from you today. What did you do to her?” Galen turned his head away before Logan could see the scowl. “Nothing. I fear it could be her magic brings on dreams that cause her to seek the comfort of her brethren.” “Hmm. That is certainly a possibility. In all my immortal years, and we know that is no’ many compared to some, I’ve no’ learned much regarding Druids.” “Just like you, I’ve gathered most of my knowledge from Cara, Sonya, and Marcail. If Isla stays at the castle, I think we will learn even more.” Logan squatted and rested his forearms on his knees. “Sonya said if a Druid holds enough magic, then the magic will give that Druid a certain gift. For Sonya it’s healing.” “And for Marcail, it’s taking away another’s pain.”
“It stands to reason Reaghan’s could be anything.”
Galen looked to where Reaghan stood talking to Braden, a smile on her lips. “I find I’m very curious to know what her magic is.” “Especially when she thinks she doesna have any.”
That was one of many things which bothered Galen about these Druids. “Do they fear her, you think? Is that why they lie to her about her magic?” “Maybe it was her magic that took her family and caused the supposed fever then memory loss. Maybe the Druids are just protecting her from herself.” Galen shrugged, but for some reason he just couldn’t imagine that to be the truth. “It’s a possibility, I suppose, but mies do not use magic to hurt or kill. Only droughs.” “Is she drough?”
Logan’s softly spoken question made Galen think back to when he held Reaghan in his arms. She had been unsure but eager. There had been no Demon’s Kiss around her neck, the small vial that held the first drops of a drough’s blood after the ceremony. And there hadn’t been any scars on her wrists from the ceremony.
As his mind recalled her subtle scent of rosemary and her warm skin, Reaghan lifted her face and looked at him with her storm-colored eyes.
“Nay, she’s no’ drough,” Galen finally answered. “There is more to her than we are being told, however.” The first fat raindrop landed on the back of Galen’s hand. He tilted back his head and saw the clouds he had noticed the previous eve had grown thicker, heavier with rain. They blocked the sun as the wind began to pick up.
“Shite,” Logan cursed as he stood. “Just what we need.”
“We cannot stay out in the open with rain.”
Logan nodded and grimaced. “I’ll remain at the back and push them. Lead us to shelter.”
“We need to get moving before the rains come,” Galen called to the Druids. “Our meal must be cut short. Eat while you walk if you must.” As Galen headed to the front of the Druids, Mairi reached out a hand and grabbed his arm. The image of hope mixed with fear assaulted him. Galen opened his power and sought more. If they wouldn’t willingly give him answers about Reaghan he would find them himself. But just as quickly as her hand had grabbed him, Mairi dropped it.
Galen’s eyes cleared and he found Reaghan watching him, her brow creased as if she knew the pain that the simple touch from Mairi had caused.
“Is this necessary?” Mairi asked, jerking his attention to her.
He sighed and silently prayed for patience. “If you want to walk in the middle of a storm, then you may linger.”
“I’ve seen these clouds many times before. They will pass us,” she argued.
“You may know the weather at Loch Awe, but this isn’t the loch, and the weather holds different. I’d rather no’ chance any of you becoming sick or injured while we travel in the rain.” Mairi grimaced. “If we must then. Though I assure you, there won’t be a storm.”
He managed to refrain from responding and continued to the front. As soon as he reached the head of the group, the others fell into step behind him. He pushed them hard, harder than he should have, but he knew the look of those clouds. Whenever the rainstorm unleashed, it would most likely be a vicious one.
He wouldn’t allow the Druids to be caught in it. In the distance before them he could see the lightning as it streaked violently across the sky into patterns he found thrilling. The thunder, when it did hit, shook the ground beneath them.
They were heading toward the tempest, and although Galen didn’t like it, there was nothing to be done. The more he walked the more he felt the occasional raindrop. It wasn’t long before it began to drizzle.
He stopped himself just in time from looking back at Mairi. If he wanted to gain her trust, telling her “I told you so” wasn’t the best course.
Galen’s wool kilt helped to propel away the rain, but the others would soon be soaked. He thought of Reaghan, as he always did, and had the insane notion of wrapping his plaid around her.
To his left, a bolt of lightning zigzagged from the heavens to the ground. In front of him, the lightning forked from the clouds and it landed on the ground like many fingers seeking the dirt.
The thunder boomed around them, but despite it, his enhanced hearing detected a cry. A cry that sounded suspiciously like it came from Reaghan.
Galen turned around to find Reaghan bent over at the waist, her hands clutchin
g her head. Mairi and Odara were on either side of her, talking, but Reaghan didn’t seem to hear them.
He saw Reaghan begin to sway and knew she was going to fall. Galen used his speed and rushed to her. His arms wrapped around her before she could topple sideways. He lifted her in his arms, cradling her head against his neck.
“What happened?” he demanded of the elders.
Odara wouldn’t meet his gaze.
Mairi wrung her hands as her gaze stayed on Reaghan. “She suffers from headaches.”
“The thunder must have brought it on,” Odara said.
Galen held Reaghan tighter as she buried her head in his neck and her hand fisted in his saffron shirt. He felt the tremble that ran through her, and when he glimpsed the tear that fell down her cheek, it nearly broke him in two.
“Galen?” Logan called as he ran up. “What is it? Is she hurt?”
“Aye,” he answered. “We will discuss this more. For now, I want to get Reaghan somewhere she can lie down.”
“How far are we from the cottage?” Logan asked.
“Not very, but we willna make it before the sky splits open.”
As if the clouds had been waiting for those exact words, it began to pour. The rain came in sheets of gray that hampered sight and deafened any sound.
“We must hurry then,” Mairi said.
Galen grimaced and pulled Reaghan tighter against him. “Doona worry. I have you now. Let me take care of you, Reaghan.”
As he set out once more, he glanced down to find Reaghan’s eyes squeezed shut, just as they had been that morning. Was that what he’d seen when he thought she was having a bad dream?
If it was a headache, why had she ignored him as she had? Reaghan was more mysterious than any woman he knew, and he feared he might never learn the truth about her.
Maybe you doona want to.
He frowned at his conscience. Of course he wanted to learn about Reaghan’s past and everything the Druids wanted kept from him.