MILLIONS OF STARS spangled the sky above the ancient tree canopy as Rachel walked to the center of the carved stones. Dying hadn’t hurt a bit, thanks to Evander’s strong arm and sharp eye. One moment she saw him throw his spear, the next she was back in the grove where it all began. That had a nice, full-circle feel to it. On some level she knew this place was more like a rest stop on the way to the next place, but that didn’t bother her. As soon as Evander came they would go on together, as he had promised.

When she was with him she knew everything would be fine.

“Och, you’re so sweet you make my teeth ache,” said a light voice. A young girl walked out of the woods and came inside the circle. “Dinnae gawk at me like that. You remember me from the dreams. I’m Fiona Marphee.”

“Yes, but you were a little older,” Rachel said, appraising her, and then decided she liked her better as a teenager. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve one more task before I can go on,” she said, and sat down and patted the grass next to her. Rachel joined her. “’Twas brave, what you did. You saved the McDonnels and the druids, and you protected Dun Aran. You gave up your young life for them. ’Tis no small thing, lass.”

“Yeah, and all I had to do was stand still. It was so hard.” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s strange, but actually it felt kind of wonderful to die that way.”

“I cannae say the same of the plague,” Fiona said and ran her hands over the smooth skin of her arms. “Do you ken that Evander never left my side, from the moment I fell sick to the night I died? He’s wondrous loyal, that lad.”

Rachel nodded. “So why are we here?”

“’Tis a good place, this grove. The oaks remember you, on this side and the other. They watched you grow from a wee lass, and they loved you.” Her mouth flattened as she glanced at the grave they had shared. “They couldnae stop David, for you were needed here. ’Tis important to them that you ken this. They sent me to tell you.”

Rachel glanced up at the lush green leaves shivering against the black branches, and felt a scattering of thoughts floating above their heads.

“They’re not really oak trees, are they?”

“’Tis no’ for us to fathom,” Fiona said. She pulled up her knees and rested her chin on them. “The magic folk think they understand, but they dinnae. No mortal or immortal can. ’Tis the way of the gods.” She gave Rachel a sideways glance. “He’s coming now, so I’ll get on with my work.”

“Why can’t you stay?” she asked as they stood up. “What do you have to do?”

“Weave the last threads of this cloth,” Fiona said, and nodded toward a thin, smiling man waiting at the edge of the woods. “There’s my da now. When ’tis finished, we’ll go together to be with my mam.”

Rachel’s throat tightened. “Will I see my parents again?”

“Aye, someday,” the girl said and smiled. “Give my love to Evander, lass.”

Rachel hugged Fiona before she watched her skip off to her father, who took her hand and vanished into the trees. The air around Rachel began to sparkle, and then the outline of a tall form drew itself before her, filling with color and light until it became the man she loved.

“Evander.”

He caught her in his arms and held her, laughing as she rained kisses all over his handsome face.

“’Tis been only a few moments, lass. As I promised. We saved the lot of them, you and I.”

“So we went out heroes.” She touched his face. “Fiona was here, but for some reason she was much younger. She said to tell you…oh.” The strange sensation in her chest made her look down to see her blouse turning to golden light. “What’s this?”

“Your reward, lass.” He bent his head to kiss her. “Remember that I’ll be waiting. Always.”

An unseen force jerked Rachel out of Evander’s arms, and dragged her up into the twinkling night sky. Then she was falling into a sea of glowing hands, which caught her and showered her with light.

Rachel opened her eyes. The snowflakes clinging to her lashes blurred the faces looming over her. Her lungs filled with cold, salty air, and her arms shook as she pushed herself up from the grass. Smoke hazed the horizon, but the black ships were gone. She looked down and saw the tear in her bodice, and the blood soaking her clothes. The robed people around her drew back as she got up and swayed on her feet.

“What happened?” A confusing barrage of thoughts came at her from all sides, anxious and relieved, satisfied and awed. She saw a big man with a tattooed face wearing her lover’s tartan, and asked him. “Where’s Evander? Is he… Where is he?”

“It’s okay, Miss Ingram.” A tall redhead joined her, and glared at one of the older robed men. “You’ve had a bit of a shock. Why don’t you sit down, and catch your breath? You’ve been through a lot today.”

“I don’t want to sit down.”

Rachel pushed past her and turned around, looking for Evander but seeing only the faces of strangers. The men she passed ducked their heads, and then one who was almost as big as the tattoo-faced warrior came to her.

“Mistress Ingram, I am Lachlan McDonnel, laird of the McDonnel clan.” He gestured toward the robed men and women. “These are your people, the druids. They can explain what has been done.”

“I’m not interested,” Rachel said just as she saw a tartan draped over a body down by the water. “Excuse me.” She tried to get past Lachlan, and when he took hold of her arm she knew what he had done. She saw Evander’s quick death, and the smile that had been on his face, and still it ripped through her. “You killed him? He saved you.”

His dark eyes filled with regret. “Aye, lass, I did. ’Twas his last wish, to be with you.”

“But I’m here. How can I be…” As understanding dawned, she backed away from him. “Oh, god. You let them bring me back, and heal me? How could you let this happen?”

“’Twas to reward you,” Lachlan said sadly, “for your sacrifice.”

“But I had that. We were together. That’s all we wanted.”

She turned blindly, and nearly bumped into Diana.

The tall redhead grimaced. “I know it seems awful, but it’ll be okay, Rachel. You just need to take it easy now.”

Rachel knocked her over as she ran as fast as she could to the covered body, beside which she fell on her knees. She drew back the tartan and gasped with pain as she looked down on Evander’s still features. Her fingers shook as she brushed the hair back from his brow, and she bit her lip so hard she tasted blood.

The young druid came and knelt down on the other side of Evander’s body.

“You must come away now, Mistress. There is naught more you can do for him.”

She shook her head, and bent down to kiss Evander, the tears falling from her face to his. When she looked up she saw herself reflected in the druid’s soft eyes, and saw past them into his thoughts. Evander’s execution had appalled him, and he believed after her lover’s heroic efforts to save the clan and the mortals that it was entirely unjust. Then Rachel looked deeper, and saw all the lives that Cailean Lusk had lived, and the terrible, beautiful magic that he and the others had used to bring her back from the dead.

Magic only druid kind could use. Druid kind like her.

“We can bring him back together,” Rachel said, as she curled her fingers around the back of Evander’s neck, and grabbed Cailean’s hand. “The resurrection magic is still inside him. Yes, I know it took all the druids to bring me back, but Evander is already immortal. The two of us can rework the spell inside him to heal the damage and awaken him again.”

“How could you ken the spell is–” The druid went still, and the connection between their minds ended. “You cannae use me like this, Mistress. ’Tis no’ my choice.”

“He didn’t deserve to die, and you know it,” she told him flatly. “So you will help me do this or I’ll tell the clan what I just saw in your head.”

He took in a sharp breath. “You dinnae understand. ’Tis no’ permitted for an ovate, or a novice to–”

“Everything I saw,” Rachel assured him. Cailean glanced over his shoulder at where an older druid stood speaking with the laird, and Rachel followed his gaze. “And I’ll start with them.” Cailean’s head whipped around and his eyes met hers. “I am deadly serious,” she said, though her voice shook, “because I have nothing left to lose.”

She watched him glance yet again at Lachlan and then Evander. Finally, he gave her a tight nod.

“You are a reader,” he said, “so you must join your thoughts to mine. Where I lead, you must follow.”

She reached out to his mind so hard and fast that he recoiled.

“Sorry,” she said quietly. “Go.”

The druid’s mind shifted from his worldly perceptions to a very different place. Rachel walked with him along a silvery path. It led into a forest of immense oak trees with emerald trunks and leaves made of amber light. The beauty seemed so immense and incomprehensible that she felt herself dwindling into something small and frightened.

You are beloved here, Sister, Cailean thought to her, and drew her into a grove where a perfect circle of carved stones surrounded Evander’s body. So it seems Evander is as well.

Rachel refused to give into her fears. What do we do now?

I cannae wake him. The druid tucked his hands into his sleeves. That is your task.

She knelt down beside Evander, and clasped his cold hand between hers.

I know you can hear me. I know you’re waiting. She tucked one hand under his neck, covering the wound. I need you here, my love. Come back to me.

Behind her Cailean murmured the words of the resurrection spell. Rachel felt magic pouring through her into her lover, and added all that she felt for him to it. The neck wound began to shrink beneath her palm. A moment later it faded away, and Rachel returned to her body. Her thoughts separated from Cailean’s as the druid drew his hand from hers.

Evander’s broad chest rose and fell, and his eyelashes parted as he peered up at Rachel.

“My lady, so soon.” He lifted his head a little to look at the people walking down to them and let it drop again. “Fack me, no’ again. Mayhap if they kill us together, at the same time, ’twill work proper.”

“Let me do the talking this time, please,” she said, and helped him to his feet as the laird approached them. “Good news, my lord. Laird. The gods have shown their mercy.”

“Have they,” Lachlan said, sounding unconvinced.

Rachel lowered her voice. “And not just to us. Imagine how useful it will be for the clan to have a mind reader.” She glanced at Evander. “Not to mention the deadliest fighter in Scotland. And since Evander’s death sentence has been carried out, there’s no need to do that again.” Her statement came out harsher than she’d intended, but Lachlan continued to listen. “I’m asking you to be the decent man I think you are.” She gripped Evander’s hand in both of hers. “Let him come home.” She attempted a smile. “You’ll never find a better Captain of the Guard or–”

“Enough of that,” the laird said and rubbed his jaw. “Do you wish to return to the clan, Talorc?”

“I have all that I wish with Rachel, my lord.” He wrapped his arm around her. “But I would be grateful for the chance to serve the McDonnel again, and I reckon the safest place for my lady is Dun Aran.”

Lachlan appraised them both before he nodded. Then he turned to address the warband and the druids.

“The gods have shown their mercy,” he said, though he gave Cailean a narrow look, “and returned Evander Talorc to us. For his sacrifice, and his courage, I pardon him of his offense.”

“My lord, do you mean to welcome him back in the clan?” Tormod demanded, and when the laird nodded, he regarded Evander. “Good.” He saw how everyone stared at him and tossed up his hands. “Naught can kill the man. Even when you do, he comes back. Would you rather him an enemy?”

“No’ me,” Raen said and came forward, holding out his hand. When Evander took it, everyone cheered, so only Rachel and Evander heard him say, “Turn your coat again, and I’ll give you to my wife.”