Chapter 22
The Isle of Eight Lairds
They must’ve heard us coming, or perhaps one of the other members of The Eight had some sort of spidey-sense that alerted them to our arrival, for a group of smiling faces awaited us as we rode up to the castle’s stables.
Laurel stood in front, and a man I could only assume was Raudrich had one arm draped over her shoulder as he held her close against him. She was smiling, but as she noticed that no other horses were pulling up behind us, her smile shifted into an expression of concern.
“Did Mom and David not come?”
Maddock dismounted and reached inside Mr. Crinkles’ makeshift den and quickly set him on the ground so he could stretch and move his little legs. He answered Laurel as he turned back toward Stella and lifted his arms to help me down.
“Kate fell ill on the journey. She is better now, thanks to a gifted healer we met along the way, but I still thought it best to ride ahead with her to reduce her exposure to the elements. The others are still a day or two behind.”
Laurel rushed over to me and threw her arms around my neck. “How are you feeling?”
“Honestly, perfect. Just tired from riding.”
As Laurel squeezed me, Marcus slowly approached. I gently pushed my sister away so I could move into his open arms.
“Marcus.” I leaned into him and smiled. “You look different—good different, though. How are you taking everything?”
He shrugged. “I’m okay. I’m adjusting to it a little more every day. As resistant as I was to it, there are some cool perks to having powers. You know, you look different, too.”
Maddock laughed as I turned to see Laurel bend to pick up Mr. Crinkles and smother him in kisses.
“The lass let loose some baggage ’twas weighing her down.”
Laurel turned wide eyes on me. “Dillon?”
I nodded and Laurel simply shrugged. She wasn’t nearly as pushy as our mother.
“If you’re happy to be rid of him, I’m happy for you.”
Bending, Laurel released Mr. Crinkles, who was wagging his tail as he prepared to swat her. “Let’s get you into a bedroom, okay? I’m eager to talk with you, and you need some rest anyway. You can meet everyone else later.”
“What? No.” I looked over at the group of men standing to our right, watching us converse. They were all right here, and it would be silly for me to walk right past them just so I could nap. “I want to meet them now.”
A man both shorter and older than the rest, with wavy gray hair that reached his shoulders and eyes that seemed remarkably familiar, stepped forward to greet me. “We are eager to meet ye, as well, Kate. I’m Nicol.” Bending toward me, he kissed my cheek, gave me a small smile, and stepped out of the way so the others could come forward.
The moment he stepped back, I gasped. I knew where I’d seen his eyes before—in Brachan. They looked remarkably similar. Too similar for it to be a coincidence. They were undoubtedly related, and I couldn’t help but wonder how. Was Nicol an uncle or perhaps a brother? Did Nicol have magic too? Was there any way….I cut the thought off—It wasn’t possible for Brachan to be Nicol’s son. Was it?
I didn’t have long to ponder the multitude of questions that popped into my mind. As soon as Nicol stepped away, the others came forward.
One by one, each of the men greeted me in his own way. They were all so different, but equally kind. I looked forward to getting to know each of them.
By the time Laurel began to usher me inside, Maddock was standing far away from the group with Nicol. Both of their faces were serious, their tones hushed.
I could think of nothing that had happened on our journey that would require such secrecy, but the sight of them piqued my curiosity and started my wheels turning.
“I doona care how urgent ye believe this is, doona ye dare say a word of it now.”
Maddock glared at Nicol in disbelief. “What do ye mean doona speak of it? ’Tis something ye must know, Nicol.”
Nicol remained unmoved. “We have all been through much these past weeks, Maddock. We lost one of our own, Laurel was given a terrible fright, Raudrich was run right through by the woman he loved, Machara nearly broke free, and now after days of turmoil and worry, Raudrich and Laurel are to be wed. Whatever ’tis ye need to say can wait.”
Maddock thought of the boy who looked so much like their Master. He had no doubt Brachan was Nicol’s son, but what did the power the boy possessed mean? Was he simply another born with power like the rest of The Eight? Many of their parents—like Nicol—lacked magical abilities of their own. Mayhap in a time before Freya, Nicol found company with another lass, and by coincidence their child possessed powers.
But what if the child was something else? What if Machara had deceived them all? What if one of her children with Nicol still lived? If so, there was no way for them to know what sort of threat the boy might pose to them.
“Nicol, I truly doona think it wise to wait for us to address—”
Nicol interrupted him. “Enough. I’ll not listen to ye a moment more. I’ve told ye precisely what ye will do. Ye will keep whatever news ye may have to yerself until Laurel and Raudrich are wed and away from here. We shall have a few days of peace. That is the end of it. Do ye understand me?”
He didn’t like it. Not one bit. But perhaps it wasn’t as urgent a matter as he thought.
After all, the boy was past twenty. He’d lived many years and posed no threat.
What would cause things to change now?
An Unnamed Village on the Scottish Mainland
It was almost as if his mother’s confession had awakened a beast inside him. He could hear the voice dripping with malice as he slept. It called his name over and over and over.
“Brachan…Brachan…Brachan…”
And finally, as he woke covered in sweat and shaking from fear,
“’Tis time, lad. Come home to me.”