Actually seeing a ghost was far less frightening than thinking about seeing one. As Raudrich and I looked down at Nicol and his wife, I felt no fear, only sadness.

“She’s a ghost, then?”

“Not exactly.” Raudrich kept his voice low. While I knew they couldn’t hear us, I understood why he did. There was something intrusive about us staring down at their shared moment. “Ghosts rarely speak and they often repeat the same motions or move down the same paths over and over again. Freya is still who she was while living. She has thoughts and feelings and expresses them freely.”

“But she’s trapped there?” It was perhaps the most horrifying fate I could think of.

His voice was sad and reluctant.

“Aye. As I said, her fate is worse than death. If Nicol ever lives to see the day that she is released from this hell and she is able to once and for all truly die, he shall rejoice in it. We all will.

“During the day, she simply doesna exist, but each night she appears in her garden, cursed to see the man she loves but unable to feel his touch on her skin, doomed to never feel warmth again or to travel past the outskirts of her long-since wilted prison.”

“Who would do that to her? Who would do that to anyone?”

I could think of no one I hated so much that I would wish them such a fate. No wonder Nicol looked so weary and sad. To spend his nights haunted by the love of his life, unable to help or save her, and to spend his days sleeping like a nocturnal animal—his existence had to be just as painful as her death.

“Are ye familiar with the fae, lass?”

I shook my head and had to keep from shivering at the way my cheek felt brushing back and forth against his stubble. It was dangerous for me to be this close to him. All I wanted to do was face him and repeat what I’d done to him last night.

“Only vaguely—a story here and there, perhaps. It’s not something anyone really believes in or speaks of in America.”

“Here.” He released his hold on me and I immediately felt cold from the space that now lay between us. He moved toward Nicol’s bed and quickly pulled a blanket off the top before sinking to the ground in front of the window. Gently he spread his legs out in front of him and motioned to the space in between. “Sit down, Laurel. Ye can lean against me while I tell ye the story. Ye are shivering where ye stand. I’ll keep ye warm.”

There was something mischievous in his voice. I kind of liked it. Smiling knowingly at him, I joined him on the floor. I sighed as I leaned back into his chest, and he draped the blanket over us. Once we were situated, he returned his arms to their place around my waist.

It was an intimate position for two strangers, but somehow I knew that our unacknowledged memories of the night before had us both feeling more comfortable around one another than we would have under normal circumstances. Sitting in his arms now, I felt rather silly for having denied any contact with him so ardently earlier in the day.

“Now, lass. Are ye ready to hear the true tale? Then, once I’m done ye can tell me just how right or wrong history has written it.”

“Deal. I’m ready.”

“This Isle has not always been known as The Isle of The Eight. Twenty years ago, ’twas The Isle of Whispers, and this castle was known as Murray Castle after Nicol’s family and ancestors. He is one in a long line of Murrays that have tended to the people of this isle. For centuries, this land knew peace. When he was only five and thirty, his life became something other than his own.

“Ye see, fae are often spoken of in folktales as ways to frighten children into behaving as ye wish them to. But in truth, sightings of them and interactions with them are far less common than Scottish grannies throughout the country would have ye believe. Most doona truly believe they exist. Until my arrival on this isle as a child, I doona think I would’ve believed in them, either.

“Nicol was much the same. When one child from the village went missing, he thought it an accident, despite the insistence of the child’s mother that a faerie had lured her son into the faerie land. Children often played too close to the water’s edge or among rivers. He believed the child had been pulled away and drowned.

“But soon after, two more went missing, and their parents believed the same as the first. In an effort to stop the rising panic amongst the people of this village, Nicol went in search of the fae, and much to his misfortune, he found them.”

I shivered as another chill swept through me. Acknowledging that magic time travel existed was one thing. Learning that ghosts and fairies existed was another. It seemed the world I’d spent most of my life living in was more sheltered than I’d realized.

“He found them here? On the isle?”

Raudrich nodded and pulled me in a little closer.

“Aye. All faeries are manipulative and selfish creatures. Ye canna trust a one of them, but Machara is worse than most. She yearned for a child—a half-human child—of her own. She captured the children of this village to lure Nicol away from the castle so she could strike a bargain with him: the safe return of the children she took for a night in his arms so she could have his child. It was a mistake he made in a moment and one that has placed a darkness over his entire life.”

I twisted to look at Raudrich.

“She broke her bargain?”

“’Tis the way of faeries. They only keep their word to a degree. Machara returned the children, but they were not as they were. When they returned to their parents’ doorsteps, they were older than their parents. For time doesna work the same in the land of the fae, and ye never know just how it shall ruin ye. Some men return to find they’ve stayed the same, but hundreds of years have passed. For the stolen children of this isle, their childhood was taken from them in the week they were gone.”

“Oh, my God. Their poor parents.”

“Aye. Many families fled here in response. They feared the same fate for their own children, and Nicol couldna blame them.”

It was one of the saddest stories I’d ever heard, but it still didn’t explain Freya’s fate.

“And where does Freya come in?”

“Freya wouldna enter Nicol’s life for another five years. Ye see, Machara loved the child she had with Nicol, and each year she would return to lie with him again. There are many tales of faerie lying with mortal men, but more often than not, ’tis the mortal that would be ruined with unquenchable lust and yearning for what they wished they could have but couldna—the love of the fae who used them.

“As with most things, Machara was different. She has never followed the patterns of most fae. Nicol stayed indifferent to her, and slowly over the years as Machara bore more of his children—children he’s never seen nor loved—she fell in love with him.

“Despite his annual obligations to Machara, Nicol believed himself a free man. During a short journey off the isle, he met and fell in love with Freya. Unaware of the doom it would bring them both, he married her before returning home. When Machara learned of Nicol’s new wife, she went mad with jealousy.

“She confessed her love to Nicol and promised to forgive his trespass if he sent Freya away, but Nicol’s love for Freya knew no bounds. He defied Machara and fled the isle with her.

“They spent five years away. They were the only happy years of Nicol’s life. It was through his travels and his studies that he discovered a way to defeat Machara—it was how he came to form The Eight.

“Fae magic is stronger than that of any one witch or druid. Nicol learned that it would take many—the magic of eight—to cast the spell that would bind Machara for eternity. He and Freya traveled throughout Scotland gathering druid men young and old who were willing to pledge their loyalty and magic to him. I was among the first as were Harry, Maddock, Timothy, and Quinn. Ludo, Calder, and Paton joined us later after three of the original eight passed away.

“We practiced the spell for months before returning with him to the isle, for we all knew the spell would have to be cast almost immediately if we were to avoid Machara’s wrath. We all urged him to leave Freya on the mainland until Machara was safely bound in her cell below the castle, but he couldna bear to leave her. He regrets that decision every single day.”

I could no longer peel my eyes away from Nicol and Freya down below us. Their story was unlike anything I’d ever heard in my life.

“So what happened when you got here?”

“Machara saw us coming and waited on the front steps of the castle, the lifeless bodies of each child she bore with Nicol laid out beside her. She hoped their death would riddle Nicol with guilt for abandoning her, but the children were inhuman things, beings he’d never known nor wanted. He felt nothing save relief that they’d not grow up to turn into beings as evil as their mother.

“His lack of emotion sent Machara into a rage, giving us just enough time to cast the spell as she lost her mind in a fit of screams and roars unlike anything I’d ever seen in my life. The spell worked, but not before Machara had time to do one last act of violence upon Nicol’s life. She killed Freya by running her through with the sword she drew from Nicol’s sheath. Just as Freya breathed her last breath, Machara cursed her to endure the state she is in now. It was the last thing Machara was able to do before our spell was finished and bound.”

Raudrich drew in a sad, deep breath. It was clear that even telling the story exhausted him.

“For the past twenty years, Machara has remained locked away deep below this castle. As long as there are eight druids with their magic bound here, she canna escape. ’Tis why it is so urgent that we find another to replace Timothy, and why it is even more distressing that Calder has left us. Our magic is stretched until Timothy is replaced. If Calder finds a way to sever his tie with this isle, Machara may find the strength to break free.”

Just as Raudrich finished his story, the sound of laughter, dark and sinister, traveled up through the floor beneath us.

“’Tis her, lass. ’Tis her dungeon that I meant when I said I must take ye somewhere ye willna wish to go. If ye want to know the truth of all of it, ’tis time for ye to meet Machara.”