A Laird and a Gentleman

by Gerri Russell

  “I didn’t want your magic.” The confession caught in Mariam’s throat. “I wanted a mother.”

  Her mother looked up. Pain reflected in her gaze—pain Mariam knew all too well.

  “What eventually brought you back to me?”

  “When the king placed you in the care of Cameron Sinclair, I could no longer stay away.” Her mother reached out, taking Mariam’s hand from the shell into her own. “I don’t ask you to forgive me. I only hope that someday you will understand. I could be your servant, your champion, your friend, and now your guide, but I was never meant to be your mother ever again.”

  Mariam shivered.

  Her mother offered her a soft smile. “You have become the woman you are today because of the adversity you suffered. That suffering is at the core of our calling. We are goddesses of nature, descended from Brānwen and the house of Llyr, the daughter of the sea god Manannán. It is our destiny to release mistreated women and men from bondage and bless them with new beginnings.”

  “What about me? I wanted a new beginning. Or didn’t that matter to you or our ancestors?”

  “The ancestors are here to help you now, to guide you. That’s why you had to come to the isle.”

  Mariam pulled away from both her mother and Cameron to scrub her hands up and down her arms, not knowing what to believe as another shiver coursed through her. In the torchlight, the black metal of the cauldron gleamed, and in the silence, Mariam could almost hear the heartbeats of her long-dead ancestors encouraging her to let go of her fear and her anger and embrace the task at hand.

  As she looked down at the eight urns, something inside her leapt to life. Not just the desire, but the need to return some light to the world that had suddenly been pitched into darkness. She was connected to these ancient ones—eight urns, meaning eight ancestors. Her mother was not here with the others because she left the isle, but she would have been the ninth. And Mariam, as her daughter, was the fulfillment of the legend. Was her mother right? Had she needed to experience suffering of her own in order to bring her to this moment? The physical scars of her father’s abuse were slowly fading. Were the scars on her soul fading as well because of Cameron?

  Mariam lifted her gaze to his. Her eyes misted with tears at the love and caring reflected in the gray depths. She swallowed back the lump that rose in her throat. For years she had hidden herself away from others, fearing not only that she was somehow damaged, but also that her father’s cruelty would spill over into her own actions. She’d kept herself hidden away, cloaked in darkness to keep the sunlight at bay.

  Mariam stared at the man before her, feeling dazed by both his presence and the words he had said to her only moments ago. You are my heart. His words had filled her with a bright light that had nothing to do with magic—and yet, they were the most magical expression of love she had ever heard. With the expectation of nothing in return, he offered her the warmth and the security she’d sought all her life and never expected to find. And without her mother’s absence in her life, she never would have ended up at Ravenscraig. She never would have met Cameron. Everything would have been different.

  She didn’t want different. She wanted what she had now—in this moment with this man and her mother—light and warmth and love.

  “Mariam, I am sorry,” her mother said, her voice edged with sorrow. “I didn’t realize how deeply I hurt you by keeping myself hidden away. Can you ever forgive me?”

  At the pain in her mother’s voice, all of Mariam’s resentments faded away. “There is nothing to forgive, Mother. You are right. I am who I am because of my past. It is the search for my past, my present, and my future that brought me here to this moment. And now it is both you and I—along with our ancestors—who will free those who are suffering. It is our duty and our purpose in this life.”

  “You remember.” The words were filled with awe.

  Mariam shook her head. “Not all of it, but enough to know that in order to get started we must move the urns and the cauldron out into the moonlight.”

  It didn’t take long to move the urns out of the cairn. The cauldron, however, proved to be much more difficult. It was too massive for Cameron to lift on his own, and even with the women helping, they barely shifted it.

  Her mother collapsed against the side of the cauldron, trying to regain her strength. “It would be easier to move the rocks of the cairn to expose the cauldron to the night than to move something that weighs more than a mountain.”

  “How are we to do that?” Mariam asked from the opposite side of the cauldron.

  “With magic,” her mother said straightening. “My magic controls the waves. Yours the wind. So, in order to keep us all from drowning, I suggest you summon the wind.”

  “How?”

  “Call the wind to you. Feel it rise inside you as you stretch out your hands. Once you have the will of the wind, you can direct it to do whatever you choose. Now that you are at the seat of your power, you will feel stronger than ever before.”

  Mariam nodded, remembering the feeling of harnessing the wind from her earlier attempts. But having more power behind her magic might be dangerous. “Both of you should wait outside. I do not wish to harm either of you if something goes wrong and the roof collapses instead.”

  Cameron looked as though he might object, but then he nodded. “Since our time grows short, and if that is the only way, then so be it.” He took her mother’s arm, leading her toward the entrance of the cairn. “We will be right outside if you need us.”

  When she finally stood in the chamber alone, Mariam lifted her hands toward the doorway. She drew a breath in silent encouragement, then in her mind she focused on the wind until she could feel it rushing past her, swirling around her, filling her with its power. She drew strength and breath from the element of nature until it became a part of her. Her heartbeat leapt as the wind swirled around her, waiting to do as she commanded.

  “Tame each gust of wind and ask it to do your bidding,” her mother shouted through the doorway over the howling wind.

  In response, Mariam lifted her hands toward the ceiling above her and willed the wind to do her bidding. To her amazement, one by one, the stones lifted and fell away until the cauldron was bathed in moonlight.

  “Now release the wind,” her mother directed.

  In her mind, Mariam quieted the gusts of wind until only a gentle breeze remained. She lowered her hands and turned to meet Cameron’s steady gaze. His expression was one of utter amazement.

  “You are stunning,” he said, his voice filled with amazement. “It is as though the wind is part of you.”

  Mariam didn’t understand until she looked down at herself. Her plain green dress had changed into a brilliant green, like that of the heather after a rain, with gold spirals etched across the surface of the long, flowing gown. Her hair hung loose about her shoulders, but it was not still, instead it fluttered about her shoulders as though enchanted by the very wind she had summoned. It wasn’t her gown or hair that brought a sense of wonder to curl in her chest though, it was the fact that her fingers glowed with a light that came from inside her.

  She swayed unsteadily, somewhat drained from the effort it took to summon the wind, but she was nowhere near as weakened as she had been the other times she had done the same. Cameron was at her side in a heartbeat, leading her beyond the remnants of the cairn. “What is happening to me?”

  “You are becoming your true self.” With a motion of her hand, her mother summoned a wave from far below. The water curled over their heads and hovered there. The moon cast a pale stream of light to cut through the water, highlighting it in an otherworldly green glow as it touched her mother’s white hair before returning to join the other waves in the sea. As the water beaded on her head, Mariam’s mother’s ragged black garment changed to a shimmering blue with silver shells etched into the fabric. Her white hair streamed out behind her and the same fantastical glow illuminated the older woman’s fingers.

  Instead of fil
ling Mariam with awe, the sight of her mother so altered by her magic filled her with unease. Mariam’s gaze shot to the eight urns at her mother’s feet then to the sky overhead that roiled with not just the darkness of night, but the arrival of the ash cloud that had blanketed Ravenscraig before they had left. Pain came to her chest and tightened her throat, making breathing difficult. “Did all of our ancestors have to go through this same trial as I do now?”

  “Nay. They were all born here on the isle.” Concern filled her mother’s eyes. “There is something more I must tell you.”

  “There is more?” Mariam’s whole body shook as dark, ominous clouds of ash roiled above them. Ash started to fall, lightly at first, then with greater intensity.

  “It is why you had to come here. It is why the ancestors are here . . . to save you. Because you were not born on this isle, the good magic—the white magic—that flows here has yet to bind itself to you. For the isle to give you the gift of white magic instead of black, you will have to sacrifice what it is you hold most dear before midnight on the dawning of your nineteenth year.”

  It was almost midnight. Fear rose up inside Mariam, as thick and as rich as the power she felt simmering in her veins. It was a battle between the woman she had become over the past week versus dark magic that was already in her soul. She hadn’t been wrong about fearing she would be like her father. But to sacrifice something—someone—she held dear . . . She couldn’t do it. Not even if it meant she would be like the man she despised.

  Her heart thudded heavily in her chest. She looked into Cameron’s eyes and saw the reflection of a witch staring back at her. The stirrings of darkness erupted inside her, instantly at odds with the person she had longed to become.

  “Fight it,” Cameron said, coming toward her, through the magic that swirled at her feet. “This is just one more battle for you to win.”

  “I will never do anything to harm you.” For he was the person who mattered most to her.

  Her thoughts moved back to her dream.

  Death. Her own.

  Mariam swallowed roughly. She knew what she had to do.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Mariam gathered the wind at her feet, swirling, gusting, until she could barely stand. Overhead, lightning slashed the sky in jagged bolts. Thunder rattled, loud and booming, over the howling of the wind. The ground beneath her feet pitched and rolled as she gathered her power from the elements around her. The wind writhed and thrashed.

  She locked her gaze on Cameron’s as her soul divided; one half leaning toward the light, the other toward the dark. She might have been torn in the past by her two desires, each as strong as the other, but no longer. There was another force inside her stronger than either of those two things.

  Love.

  Instead of shielding her emotions from him, Mariam allowed all the love in her heart to show on her face, in her eyes as she reached deep inside, grasping every fragment of power she possessed and sent it outward, blasting both Cameron and her mother away from her.

  With her next breath, she raised her arms, gathering the churning sky in her mind—all the ash, all the darkness, and all the sickness before her life came to an end.

  “Wind to my will!” she cried out. Above her the black clouds gathered, swirled, in a magnificent vortex, pulling every impurity inside it. She was no longer afraid that she would be enough to vanquish the darkness as it took hold, that it would suck her into a void from which there was no return, or even that it would turn her into something evil. If she had to make a sacrifice, it would be herself in order to claim a better future for all of Scotland.

  In the distance, she could see Cameron gain his feet. He struggled forward against the wind, making slow progress through sheer force of will. The emotions in his eyes were clear.

  I love you.

  Her vision blurred and her limbs ached as the magical forces sapped her strength. She struggled to hold her thoughts, digging deeper, tapping into wells of strength she did not know she possessed. Bolstered by an infusion of power, she shifted her hands from the sky toward the cairn’s former location and the magical cauldron. Instead of bringing back life, perhaps the otherworldly metal could harbor what might bring about death.

  Shaking from head to foot, Mariam forced the ash and debris into the gaping darkness. The earth shook and sparks erupted from the ancient metal as it consumed all she threw its way until she was nearly depleted of her strength. Mariam dropped to her knees. Once the air was clear and she could finally see not just the moon, but also the stars overhead, she focused her efforts on trapping the ash and the sickness in the cairn for all eternity.

  Using the last reserves of strength in her body, she visualized the cairn reassembling itself overhead and all around her. Pain cascaded down her spine and into her limbs as she crumpled to the ground. Her heartbeat fumbled and her breath came in ragged gasps as the last stones slipped into place.

  Despite being alone in the cairn, Mariam thought she heard the swoosh of wings. Silence followed as ice slithered through her limbs. Breath slipped from her lungs, and she surrendered to eternal darkness.

  Chapter Twenty

  Cameron reached the cairn as the last stone settled, blocking Mariam within. She could not live alone, in the darkness, locked inside the tomb.

  “Mariam!” The sound of his ragged breathing punctuated the air and mingled with the thudding of his heart. He skidded to a stop. His hands shot out as he thumped the solid stones before him. Pain rippled through his hands to his forearms, but it did not stop him.

  “Release her!” He continued to assault the stone with his bare flesh until his fingers bled. When finally his attack on the cairn yielded no results, he drew his sword and thrashed at the stone with even more force.

  He had to reach her. He could not leave her in there alone in the darkness.

  Pain jabbed at his side as he threw his sword to the ground and started digging with bloody fingers, loosening the stones until one slipped out and then another. He had dislodged a dozen stones before he felt a presence at his side. “Help me reach her. Use your magic to free her,” he demanded of the woman he had known as Mistress MacInnes.

  “You really love her, don’t you?”

  “More than life itself,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. He pounded the stones before him. “Take me. Take me instead . . .”

  Beside him, Mariam’s mother stretched an arm out to the sea and pulled it back along with an arc of seawater. With another wave of her hand, the wave crashed against the stones, creating an opening. Cameron jumped over the rock and ran to Mariam’s side, falling to his knees beside her. He cradled her in his arms. “I’m here. I’m here, Mariam.”

  Bathed in moonlight, Cameron could clearly see the paleness of her face, the stillness of her chest. Fear and horror and panic coiled in his stomach. The light that had filled her when she’d summoned the wind had gone out of her fully now. She looked as fragile as a shell upon the beach. He looked up to see her mother standing beside them. “Use your magic. Bring her back to me!”

  She looked stricken. “That I cannot do. Mariam has destroyed our power over life and death.” Her gaze moved to the back of the cairn, to where the cauldron used to reside. In its place was now a crater in the earth, surrounded by a light dusting of ash. The cauldron and all Mariam had flung inside it had vanished.

  Her sacrifice had worked for everyone except herself.

  A bleakness like none Cameron had ever known invaded his soul. For the first time in his life he had nothing to cling to, nothing to hope for as he stared down into the vacant, green eyes of the woman he loved.

  She was so cold. He rubbed her hands. He caressed her cheeks.

  There was no response.

  “We are in a place of magic, and yet nothing can save her?” The words felt as though they were ripped from his throat. Tears welled in his eyes as an unbearable ache twisted his insides into a fiery knot.

  “There is nothing more for us to do but say our
goodbyes.” Sorrow laced her voice.

  Cameron’s throat tightened, closed. He could not find the words to bid his love farewell. Instead, he bent his head and placed one last kiss upon her lips.

  *

  Mariam fought her way through the darkness, clawing with as much tenacity to reach Cameron as he had used to reach her inside the clutches of death. She fought the lethargy that weighed her down until she could summon a simple whisper of air. She pulled it into her lungs and breathed.

  *

  Cameron felt a hint of breeze upon his cheek. It was so soft at first that he dismissed it as only a figment of his imagination, then it came again, more forceful this time. He pulled back to see Mariam’s cheeks were tinged with pink. Her eyelids fluttered. His breath hitched.

  Was she alive? Had she come back to him? He wanted to touch her, just to make certain this was no illusion, but he didn’t. If it was an illusion, he never wanted it to end.

  But then tears welled in the green eyes that looked back at him. “I love you,” she whispered.

  “Mariam—”

  “I thought I could leave you in order to free the world of death and disease, but I could not go. I could not leave you.”

  “You rid our little part of the world of those things anyway.” He finally brought his finger to her cheek, stroking it softly. She was real. “It is a miracle.”

  “It is magic.”

  He smiled. “I never truly believed in magic before, but I do now. Every bit as much as I believe in you and your goodness. You did it, Mariam. You saved us all.” He kissed the damp trail of tears on her cheeks, tasting the saltiness on his lips, his tongue. He kissed her eyelids and the downy softness of the hair at her temple.

  “Where does this leave us? Will things go back to the way they were before we came here?”

  “Tomorrow the sun will rise and we will be together. I will not risk losing you to anyone who fails to understand that your magic is not something to fear. That you are not anyone to fear. They will never know what you have done for them all, because we cannot tell them. But I know. And now it is up to me to keep you safe for whatever time we have left in this strange and wonderful world.”