by Donna Grant
MacNeil tapped the flat side of the dagger against his palm. "Younger and a lass, so not a threat to you at all. Unless she saw you begin to be what you truly are. Tell me, Gregor, did you kill someone and she saw you?"
Gregor closed his eyes when he heard his mother gasp. He jerked his gaze to MacNeil. "By the saints, you will pay for your lies."
MacNeil laughed again. "Oh, so maybe it was just neglect that killed Anne. You should be proud of your son, my lady," he said and turned toward Gregor's mother. "His kills are legendary in the Highlands. Many lairds have paid highly for his services. I'm sure he will tell you all about them if you ask."
Gregor was fast loosing the last thread of his control. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. He thought he had buried all this so deep it would never touch him again. He should have known better.
"Well, I think 'tis time," MacNeil said and took off Fiona's blindfold.
Gregor wouldn't look at her. He didn't think he could stand to see the hatred in her eyes. 'Twas the very reason he had refused to tell her anything about Anne and her death.
"Remember what I told you," he heard MacNeil tell Fiona before he led her to a boat and put her inside.
Gregor's heart began to pound. It had had been the same boat Anne had used the day of her death. Anne's face surfaced in his memories. She grinned impishly up at him with her bright blue eyes and blonde hair as he set her in the small boat.
She had adored him and followed him everywhere. And he had killed her. What kind of brother did that make him?
"Tell me, Gregor," MacNeil said as he came to stand beside him. "How does it feel to know that you chose the wrong side this time? You shouldn't have betrayed me."
"I did the right thing. You are a fool if you think you can kill Fiona."
"I used to think of you as my best man. The one I could count on to do the dirty jobs and do them right. How could I have been so wrong about you?"
Gregor shrugged. "What you don't understand is that you are dealing with something you cannot win over. Your companion isn't here to aid you. Ever wonder why he ran off?"
His mind raced to think of someway to save Fiona, but as her boat rowed farther and farther away from him, his options became few.
MacNeil came to stand in front of him and pressed his finger into Gregor's chest. "Your words don't frighten me. Fiona will die, and the prophecy will fade into nothing."
"What's to stop Fiona from saving herself?"
"The thought of you and your parents dying."
Gregor had thought MacNeil might use something like that, but he had wanted to make sure. He turned and looked at his parents. His mother had torn part of her gown to put over his father's wound to stop the flow of blood. It had helped, but unless they got him some attention soon he would die.
His father's eyes met his, and Gregor knew his father would do whatever it took help. His mother smiled at him through her tears, and it gave him the courage he needed to face what was ahead.
MacNeil sneered at him when he turned back around. "How does it feel, Gregor, to see your parents after all these years and knowing that you will be responsible for their deaths as well?"
Gregor stayed silent and kept his eyes on Fiona.
"I have had enough of these games," MacNeil growled and whirled around to face the loch. "Now," he yelled to the soldier rowing Fiona's boat.
The soldier stopped, stood up and pushed Fiona over the side of the boat. Gregor reacted instantly. He elbowed the soldier on his right in the side and took the sword. With the sword in his right hand, he reached down with his left and retrieved the dirk in his boot.
The four soldiers came at him at once. He kicked one on the knee and heard the bone pop as the soldier crumpled to the ground screaming. To Gregor's surprise, one of the soldiers ended the life of the wounded man.
Gregor lunged at one and sent him off balance. While another man attacked him, Gregor kicked the fallen soldier in the face. He threw his dirk at another and saw him fall to the ground before he turned back to the last one.
"You are no match for me," he told the soldier. "Save yourself and get out of here."
The soldier's eyes flickered to MacNeil. "Nay," he bellowed and raised his sword.
Gregor lunged and twisted. He felt his sword sink into the soldier's midsection. His gaze turned to his parents, and he was astounded to find that they'd killed their two guards, although his father didn't look well.
He took a step toward them, but his father stopped him. "Save the lass. We can talk when you return."
Gregor turned to the loch. There was no sign of Fiona. The boat that had taken her had almost made it back to shore, and more of MacNeil's soldiers were riding toward them. He couldn't take them all one and save Fiona.
He stepped into the loch his only thought Fiona. The water had just reached his thighs when he heard the horses splash into the loch.
* * * *
Fiona surged to the surface. She stood atop the water as if it were dry land and surveyed the carnage around her. MacNeil had gone back on his promise. She should have known he would, but she had held out a shred of hope.
It didn't take long for her to find MacNeil. He rode away from the loch and his men. Apparently he thought she was dead.
She needed to find Gregor. When she spotted him fighting against ten mounted soldiers her anger snapped. She rose up a giant wall of water and launched it at MacNeil's soldiers. Just before the water swallowed them, she threw Gregor out of harms way.
Once she saw the soldiers were deep within the cold loch, she calmed the water. Gregor leaned up on his elbow and shook his head. His eyes found her, and he slowly gained his feet. She quickly walked to shore and went to his parents.
"Lass, how in the world did you just walk on water?" Gregor's father asked her.
"I will be more than happy to tell you, my laird, but only once you are healed."
He coughed and blood ran from the corner of his mouth. "My name is Beathan, and there will be no healing for me. Gregor?"
Fiona moved so Gregor could be next to his father. She helped Gregor's mother try and staunch the flow of blood from her husband's wound.
"Aye," Gregor said.
"There's so much that needs to be said." Beathan stopped as another fit of coughing came. "Many times I sent men to bring you home."
"Why?" Gregor asked.
"Because you shouldn't have been banished. We should have stood beside you."
"But I did kill her."
" 'Twas an accident, son."
Fiona's heart ached for Gregor, and when Beathan called him son, she had a hard time holding back her tears.
"You are home now," his mother said. "That's all that matters."
"I only came to stop MacNeil. I didn't do that," Gregor said and tried to rise to his feet, but Beathan's hand stopped him.
"I lost two children that day, and have regretted it ever since you walked out of those gates. I want to die knowing you will come back and take your place as laird of this clan."
Gregor blinked. Had he heard his father right? He looked up at his mother as saw the bright smile through her tears. "What about the rest of the clan?"
"I overturned the banishment a week after you left. My men have been looking for you ever since."
Gregor couldn't believe his ears. All this time he could have been with his family, and instead he had missed so many years. And he was about to lose his father.
"Will you come back?" his father asked.
Gregor raised his eyes to Fiona. She gave him a small nod, and he knew what he had to do. "There's one thing I have to finish, then I will return."
"Then go and finish your mission."
Gregor found his eyes misting with tears. He hurriedly blinked them away. "I will be back." He looked at his mother. "I swear I will."
"You better," she warned before she threw her arms around him. "Now go," she said. "The clan is coming. They will take your father to the castle."
Gregor looked toward the castle as saw the MacLachlan people walking toward them. He stood and held out his hand to Fiona.
"Just a moment," she said and ran to get some of water out of the loch. She returned and knelt beside his father and held her hand over his wound. Slowly she poured the water over the wound and whispered some words.
She stood and turned to Gregor. "I've done all I can. If they tend to him quick, he will live."
He nodded his thanks. She smiled and began to walk away. He turned to his father and knelt down. "Stay alive, Father," he said.
His father held out his arm and they clasped forearms. "Go," he urged.
Gregor whistled and Morgane and Fiona's mare trotted toward them. It was time to get Fiona to the Druid's Glen.
* * * *
Aimery watched as Gregor and Fiona rode from the MacLachlan lands. They had managed to stay alive. He knew it would take more than MacNeil's clumsy planning to do them harm.
There had been a few times he had nearly signaled his army to move in, but the MacLachlan clan had surprised him with their courage and tenacity.
And they had survived a MacNeil raid.
If only all humans were more like the MacLachlan's instead of MacNeil.
He motioned to two of his men to follow Gregor and Fiona. Two more trailed MacNeil, but if his suspicions were accurate MacNeil and his men would once again disappear.
"Care to explain yourself?"
Aimery turned to his queen. "Your majesty," he said and bowed. "What would you like for me to explain?"
"Oh, stop," Rufina said and flung her long, golden hair over her shoulder. "You know very well of what I speak. Now, answer me."
Aimery straightened and looked his beautiful queen in the eye. "I brought the army here just in case. MacNeil's companion is using Fae magic."
Her smooth brow furrowed. "That isn't possible. All of the Fae are accounted for, and we all know that humans cannot harness our power."
Aimery waited for her to continue. He knew better than to interrupt her thinking. While she thought, he ran his eyes over her.
All Fae looked similar in height and weight. Females were slim and narrow of hip, while males were also slim but with well-defined muscles. All Fae had some form of blonde hair and the intense, unnatural blue eyes that made it easy to spot them.
His queen turned her attention back to him. "I must talk to the king. Be prepared, Aimery. You will be called to court shortly."
"You know something about MacNeil's companion then?"
"Maybe," she said and vanished.
He sighed. If he knew his king and queen he would be called to their side very soon, but before then he needed to return to the Druid's Glen.
With a raise of his hand, his soldiers returned to their posts throughout Scotland.
CHAPTER TWENTY
"You fool." The Shadow took hold of a nearby limb that was lying on the forest floor and broke it in two. It was either that or break MacNeil's neck.
MacNeil shrugged and continued eating the quail. "Fiona is dead. The prophecy is over."
"She's not dead, you imbecile."
"Of course she is. I saw her fall into the loch and not come up," MacNeil said as food came out of his mouth.
The Shadow reined in his fury with great effort. "The Fae blessed all three of those girls with powers. What do you think hers is?"
"I don't know," MacNeil said with a shrug as he continued eating. Then he looked up. "Wait. 'Tis water."
"Aye, it is. So, do you think water could kill her?"
MacNeil stopped chewing and raised his eyes. "I didn't think about that."
"Exactly. You don't ever think. 'Tis no wonder Glenna was able to escape you. I also have to wonder why everyone is so terrified of you."
"I'm not known as the Butcher for anything," MacNeil said and surged to his feet. "And I'm not an idiot. It takes genius to take over these clans like I have."
"You destroy, MacNeil. That doesn't take genius. That just takes enough coin to pay men to follow you," he said and walked away before he killed MacNeil himself.
He seethed and desperately needed an outlet. If only the Fae had stayed away then he could have killed Fiona, but he couldn't take the chance of the Fae catching him. It was his plan to catch them.
One in particular actually, he thought with a grin.
* * * *
Fiona waited for Gregor to say something, but she guessed she might well be waiting for the stars to fall from the sky. Even now, as they readied their camp for the night he wouldn't look at her.
There was so much she wanted to tell him, but didn't know if he would welcome anything it. Regardless, she couldn't stand the silence anymore.
"Gregor, I--"
"I'm going to hunt for some food," he said and walked away.
Well, that went well.
She sighed and settled comfortably against the rough boulder. It was going to be a very long night at this rate. Surely there was some way to get him to at least listen to her.
It bothered her that Gregor hadn't even been worried that she had been hurt. Of course, with her powers, the water had healed it and washed away all trace of blood. Her flesh was still pink where the dagger had sliced open her arm.
If she healed it correctly there would barely be any visible scar. She quickly changed gowns since her sleeve had also been cut. Before she slipped on the other gown she ripped a piece off the bottom of the torn one and wrapped it around her healing wound.
By the time Gregor returned with a grouse that he set to cleaning, she knew he had withdrawn from her. She rose to her feet and walked toward him. When she stood behind him and he still didn't acknowledge her, she placed a hand on his shoulder.
He immediately tensed and stilled. Her heart tore in two for the guilt and shame she knew he carried. It didn't matter how hard she tried, she couldn't push aside the need she had to help him.
"I'm sorry I didn't stay in the cave," she said, not knowing where else to begin.
He nodded and went back to his cleaning.
"I thought I could help."
"You almost got killed."
Finally, she thought. "But I didn't. I knew MacNeil wouldn't be able to kill me."
"You knew no such thing," Gregor bellowed and threw down his dirk as he stood. "Do you have any idea how frightened I was?"
His words hit her like a month old loaf of bread. "Why? Because you had failed Moira?"
"Because I was afraid I had failed you," he finally said.
She took a step toward him only to find him backing away from her. It took a great amount of effort but she didn't let him see how his actions hurt her.
"At least you are no longer banished from your clan."
He turned his back to her. "You don't know anything, Fiona."
"Your parents want you to return. They have been looking for you for years. There isn't much to understand."
His back stayed rigid at her words, but she wasn't done with him yet. She walked around until she faced him. "You are to be laird of the MacLachlan's."
"Nay. I will return like I promised but only to make sure my father is all right."
"I don't understand you. You have everything you ever wanted. Why are you turning your back on them now?"
"It isn't for you to understand," he said and walked away.
Fiona stared at the half-cleaned grouse. She needed to do something to burn off her anger, and the grouse was as good as anything right now. Besides she needed to eat.
It wasn't until the grouse had finished cooking that she looked up and found Gregor striding toward her. He didn't even look at her as he helped himself to the grouse.
Wonderful. How am I going to break through his walls now? And why do I even want to? I'm supposed to leave him remember?
She remembered all right, but it didn't stop her heart from wanting to mend his. They ate in silence. She didn't bother to tell him good-night when she lie down. If he wanted to be left alone, then she would leave him alone.
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All the way to the Druid's Glen if need be. She just hoped they reached it in a couple of days. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him how far they had to go, but quickly changed her mind.
She didn't need a Highland winter to feel the chill that came from the man across the fire.
* * * *
Gregor yearned to know if Fiona's wound was healing. He had forgotten about it until they had made camp and he had spotted the torn, bloodied sleeve.
When he had returned from hunting she had changed and didn't complain about any pain. After he saw her begin to heal his father, he could only guess that she had healing abilities close to Moira's.
With everything that had happened he couldn't sleep and instead watched Fiona. Her elegant beauty hurt his eyes to gaze upon her. She knew almost everything now, and he didn't understand why she still wished to speak to him.
It could be because she pitied him.
I want no one's pity. Not even the woman that can move the heart in my chest.
* * * *
Aimery walked into his king and queen's court not seeing the other Fae that lined the walls in hopes of gaining an audience with the rulers.
He had expected his summons, and hadn't been surprised when he was ordered to appear immediately. After walking the long length of the throne room he kneeled in front of them and put his right fist over his heart.
"Rise, Aimery," the king said.
Aimery stood and noted that both king and queen were distressed. "Is everything all right?"
"I'm glad you came directly," Theron said and looked to his queen.
Rufina stood, her long silver gown hugging her body. "Come, Aimery. We must talk in private."
He waited for the king to follow his queen before he trailed after them. They brought him into the room behind their thrones. He had been in this room many times.
It wasn't as opulent as the throne room. There weren't gold chairs for the rulers to sit on, or any of the numerous other luxurious items that lined the palace. Instead there was a rather plain table and six chairs. The walls weren't painted with murals of Fae history, but instead were painted a soft blue to relax the occupants. It was a room where the rulers could be themselves and share a private word with someone.