by Donna Grant
“I, myself, had never heard of it. It was only after it was on and I tried to leave that I discovered just how different this bracelet was.”
“How long have you been here?”
Ahryn glanced out the open window. “Two months.”
“Have all your abilities disappeared?”
She swallowed and licked her lips. “Do you mean to ask if I still hear other Fae? Nay, I do not. Everything ceased when the bracelet was clasped to my wrist,” she said and lowered her hand. Every time she saw her hand, anger at herself nearly drowned her, so she kept it out of sight.
“And how am I to help?”
She had known this question would come, but now that it was here, she found it hard to answer. “I know who you are. Although you may be mortal now, you’re the only one that can help me return to the Realm of the Fae.”
He crossed his arms over his muscular chest, and she noticed a tattoo of a horse surrounded by ancient knotwork on his right forearm. “If you know who I am and why I’m mortal, you would also know that I cannot venture into the Realm of the Fae.”
Ahryn didn’t try to hide her disappointment. In truth, she didn’t know why he was now mortal but had hoped to bluff him into thinking she did. “I didn’t know that. I assumed you were still able to travel to different realms.”
Her last hope was now gone, and her curiosity would keep her trapped on Earth for eternity. She took a deep breath and turned to the door. There was no use staying now. She would return to Marcus and face whatever wrath he had.
Lugus hated that he was affected by the devastation on the female’s face. She wasn’t his concern. He couldn’t help her.
Or did he just not want to?
“What is your name?” he asked as her hand reached for the door.
Startled Fae eyes jerked to his face. “Ahryn.”
It was a beautiful name, he thought to himself. “How did you get to my isle?”
“How does anyone get to this isle? I stole a boat and rowed all night.” She looked down at her feet. “I didn’t expect him to find me so soon.”
Lugus had to admit that his curiosity was now piqued. “Who?”
Slowly, her mystical blue eyes rose to his. “Who is the most powerful man around? Lord Marcus MacGregor is the one that searches for me. The soldiers have seen me, so he will return to claim me.”
He thought over her words for a moment. Regardless if he sent her away that instant, his island would be invaded by the baron and his soldiers. There were very few places he could hide either himself or Ahryn for any length of time. Yet, before he could make any kind of decision, he needed to know more of the facts.
Lugus moved his hand and clenched his jaw as his swollen, bloodied knuckles cried out in protest. He rose from the stool and went to the fire where he had water boiling to wash his cuts. It was one of the many things he had had to learn to do once he became mortal.
He reached for a strip of cloth and quickly dunked it in the boiling water. It scalded his hand as he tried to wring out the water.
“Here,” Ahryn said as she took the cloth and gently pushed him to his bed. “You sit and I will tend to your cuts as I tell you my story.”
“How did you know I wanted to know your story?”
She raised her Fae eyes to him and smiled as she knelt before him. “It doesn’t take Fae magic to read the emotions that cross your face.”
Lugus looked at her, really looked at her. Aye, she was Fae and had all the characteristics of the Fae, but there was sadness in her eyes, a sadness that Lugus himself lived with every day.
Her eyes were large, expressive with gently arching flaxen brows. She had high cheekbones, a stubborn chin and a long, graceful neck. Her lips, wide and full, drew his attention like a bee to a flower.
He hadn’t been this close to a woman since Moira. Nearly five years of his self-imposed prison on the isle. He blamed it on the fact that he had been without a woman for so many years that his body yearned for Ahryn. His body needed relief and would take any female that came near it.
When her long, tapered fingers touched his injured knuckles he nearly came off the bed. No one had touched him in what seemed like ages. He had forgotten what it was like to have comfort, even in such a small does as someone tending to a wound, and he was startled to find he craved it.
Her touch was gentle as she removed the dried blood and dirt that had become imbedded in the skin, her finger stopped to examine each of his tattoos. Lugus fisted his other hand at his side as he tried to keep his breathing normal and his mind focused on Ahryn’s story instead of the hunger that had been awakened in him.
“Your story,” he bit out between clenched teeth.
“Aye, my story,” she said softly. She glanced at him and gave him a small smile. “I’m sorry this pains you. I am being as gentle as I can.”
He gave her a nod and allowed her to think his actions were due to his discomfort of her cleaning his wounds.
“I am curious by nature. Something that has oft times gotten me into a spot of trouble,” Ahryn said as she wrung out the cloth and turned back to his hand. “My friends and I used to come to this realm during Beltaine and Samhain. It was a world like none other. So like ours, yet so different.”
Lugus knew exactly how she felt. The realm of Earth had often called to him as a young boy. The people were so innocent of the magic and evil that hovered around them.
“Yet, the more times I came,” Ahryn continued, “the longer I wanted to stay. The people I met were very friendly. It became so that I would sneak away and venture to this realm even if it wasn’t one of the sacred days. My father discovered this and sought to put an end to it.”
Lugus suspected that she had been kept out of this realm for a long period of time. “How long did he keep you away?”
She raised her gaze to him. “Centuries. It was only after someone tried to take over both realms that he loosened his hold over me. He assumed that after all those years I would not wish to visit here again.” She raised her hand with the cloth and began to dab at the cut over his brow.
“He was wrong,” Lugus said.
She smiled slightly. “Aye. For awhile he thought I was coming to meet a man, so he tried to force a marriage on me. I refused. After a particularly painful fight with my father, I came here. To Scotland.”
Lugus waited for her to finish. She didn’t speak again until the wound over his eye was cleaned.
Her eyes met his as she sat back on her feet. “I only meant to stay for a few hours. I wandered the market place as I usually do. That is where Marcus first saw me. I knew as soon as I felt his gaze that he knew what I was. I wasn’t afraid though. As a Fae I knew I could get away at any time.”
Lugus sat forward with his elbows on his knees. “What happened?”
“I stopped by a small shop that sold jewelry among other things. I found a pair of earrings that I knew my sister would enjoy. I purchased those and went to leave when the owner asked if I liked older pieces. Since I try to find pieces of jewelry we made while still on this realm, I said aye.”
“And they brought out the slave bracelet.”
She nodded and looked down at her hand. She ran a finger over the chains that connected her middle finger to the bracelet. “I thought it an unusual and beautiful piece. I knew the Celts had made such bracelets, but they were usually plain in appearance unless the slave was someone of importance. So, when the shopkeeper bade me try it on, I thought nothing of it. As soon as I clasped it together I felt the magic.”
Lugus looked down at the bracelet. Along the ancient carvings of knots and scrollwork, so much like what he tooled into the leather, he saw what looked like an ancient language. “Have you tried to decipher the symbols?”
She nodded. “My first day. No sooner had I attached the bracelet than Marcus and his men brought me to his castle. I spent the remainder of that day locked in a chamber as I tried in vain to call for help.”
Lugus sighed and leaned back in his c
hair and studied her. Either she had no idea that he had been the one that nearly destroyed their realm or she didn’t wish to mention it. He decided to assume she didn’t know exactly what he had done.
“Even if I tried to call to the Fae, it would fall on deaf ears because I’m no longer Fae. I’m a mortal man.”
“Have you tried?”
He shook his head. “Nay. And I won’t.”
“If you don’t help me, Marcus will force me to marry him and I will never return home.”
He saw the misery and fear in her eyes and hated that he couldn’t help her. “What do you want me to do? I’m but one man against Marcus’ army. I know of whom you speak, though I have never encountered him myself. He is a very powerful lord with many men at his disposal. I cannot defend you against them.”
“I’m not asking for that.”
He stared at her for one heartbeat. Two. “You ask the impossible. You say you know who I am, but you do not know everything.”
“I know enough. You are my last hope, Lugus. You know I am not meant to live out my life here. I must return to my realm.”
“Then you need to find you a champion that will aide you.”
Chapter Three
Lugus walked from his cottage and saw the storm clouds rolling in. The dark clouds flashed lightening as the thunder boomed around him. The sea had already begun to churn and chop. Only a fool would venture out onto the sea in a storm as fierce as what was about to blow in.
He turned on his heel and entered the cottage to find Ahryn staring into the fire. She raised her gaze to his when he closed the door behind him.
“I’m sorry for coming here. Marcus and his men will come even if I go back.”
“Aye.”
She took a deep breath and turned to him. “I will depart now and hopefully talk Marcus into leaving you alone.”
“I wish that were possible,” Lugus said as he leaned against the door. “There is a storm coming. Only a fool would venture out onto the water now. You’ll have to wait until it blows over.”
“Which means, Marcus won’t come for me?” she asked hopefully.
Lugus shrugged. “I couldn’t say. Depends on if he can find oarsmen who are willing to chance their lives.”
“He won’t,” she said with a smile that lit up her face. “For one night I’m free.”
She whispered the last part, but Lugus heard her nonetheless. He glanced at his tools and then at her bracelet. The least he could do was try and take it off for her. He reached for his tools and walked to her.
He held up the tools. “Shall I?”
“Please.” She sat and held out her hand.
For the next two hours Lugus worked at trying to unclasp the bracelet to no avail while the storm raged outside. Whatever magic held her bound to the realm of Earth held the bracelet closed. He set aside his tools and shook his head.
“Without knowing what kind of magic made the bracelet, I cannot unlock it.”
“I wish I could tell you. All I know is that Marcus had the bracelet, but he wouldn’t tell me where he got it or from whom,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
They sat in silence for a time, the thunder had become near constant and the lightening lit up the cottage as if it were day. Weather such as this always exhilarated him, made him feel as though he should be out in it soaking up the fierceness.
Lugus flexed his shoulders and rose. “I have work to do, but make yourself at home and relax while you can.”
“What are the markings for?”
He turned and found her gazing at his hands. He looked down at the tattoos and shrugged. “I don’t know. They’ve been on me for as long as I can remember.”
“So you don’t know what each means?”
His gaze raked across the tattoos, a horse, a small boar, an even smaller dragon and several ancient knotwork patterns were marked across his skin. “I have no idea.”
He went to the back of the cottage behind a cloth he had draped across the doorframe and heated up his kiln. If nothing else he could finish the dirk that had been ordered.
Soon he had forgotten about Ahryn, Marcus and his soldiers, the slave bracelet and the Fae. He channeled all his energy into crafting the dirk.
Hours later, with a heavy sigh, he wiped the sweat from his brow and raised the finished dirk for inspection. It met with his approval, and, with the matching sheath, it would make a startling pair. He wiped the blade with a clean cloth, making sure everything was in order.
“It is very beautiful.”
He looked over his shoulder and found Ahryn gazing at the dirk. He shrugged and slid it into it‘s sheath. “It helps keep food in my belly.”
“Maybe,” she said as she came to look at the assortment of weapons hanging on his wall. “However, I get the feeling you enjoy your work. Have you always been gifted so?”
Lugus set aside the dirk and sunk his hands into a bowl of water to wash the sweat and grime from him. “I don’t really know. I used to draw as a child, but it wasn’t until I came here and needed to find something to do that I happened across this.”
Her soft laugh filled the room. Lugus could only listen to the magical sound. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had laughed around him.
“I hardly believe you just stumbled onto this,” she continued, unaware of the turmoil she had caused. “This,” she said and touched a sword, “is made with passion and love. You must have watched them craft swords in our realm.”
Lugus could still recall his father’s fury at discovering him wanting to learn to craft weapons. His father had said it wasn’t for royalty to do such jobs, and it was the beginning of a huge rift between him and his father, a rift that never mended.
“You don’t have to answer.”
He raised his eyes to her. “It seems you know much more about me than I do you.”
She grinned and lifted a shoulder coyly. “I’m not near as interesting.”
“Ah, I disagree. A Fae that gets trapped in the Earth realm after being forbidden to venture here is quite interesting.”
She waved away his words, the sadness once again in her gaze. “I only know of you because of hushed whispers. The stories never seemed to affix, as if there was something missing, something someone didn’t want the rest of the Fae to know.” She stopped suddenly and looked at him. “Did you know our realm was nearly destroyed by the Black dragons? No one knows who let them loose or who managed to lock them back up.”
Lugus’ gut clenched at her words. “Is that so?”
“Aye. I heard that Caer Rhoemyr was left in shambles. My city and surrounding village had some damage, but we managed to get it set aright very soon.”
He waited for her to ask him if he knew who had released the Death Dragons, and he prayed the question would never come. She was the only Fae that was likely to speak to him, and, if she discovered everything, she would hate him as much as his own family did. Not that he didn’t deserve it.
“Aren’t you curious to know what the whispers were?”
“Nay,” he said and turned to leave the small chamber.
“Really?” she asked and followed him. “I would find it near impossible not to ask.”
Lugus didn’t bother responding to her. He was used to being alone and liked his solitude, though he couldn’t very well send her out in the foul weather that had descended upon them. If he didn’t know better he would think someone had bidden such weather. He walked to a window and eased open the shutter a bit to peer into the darkened sky.
He needed to bathe and he needed his solitude, both of which were being denied him. The cagey feeling he had suffered through for millions of years while he had been in the Realm of Shadows consumed him.
“You don’t like me here, do you?” Ahryn asked.
He glanced at her over his shoulder. “I’m used to being alone.”
“I’m not,” she replied. “I have a large family and many friends. Here, I have only Marcus. I apologize if I have d
isturbed your work. I promise not to do so again.”
Lugus heard her feet as she moved around the cottage and then silence. He turned and found her sitting in front of the fire staring at her right hand. He could well imagine the worry her family felt. He envied her that. His family had all but forgotten him in the millennia he was forced into a realm no one had ever come back from.
He pushed aside the dark thoughts that tried to break through. It had been those dark thoughts that had turned him into the fiend that had nearly destroyed everything. His gaze returned to Ahryn.
“Come,” he said as he walked past her. To his surprise, she rose and followed him. He took her to one of his work tables and showed her the drawing he had done of the sheath for the sword Marcus had ordered. “I have traced the outline of the sheath in the leather. Can you cut out the leather?”
She looked at the small dagger in his hand then up at his face. A slow smile pulled at her lips. “Aye,” she said and reached for the dagger.
Just as her hand closed over his, he said, “Be careful. The dagger is sharp.” He released his hold and watched as she ran a hand over the leather and traced his outline with a finger. Then, she situated herself and began to cut.
Lugus made himself walk away. He hadn’t liked giving her the leather to cut, but she had needed something to occupy her mind as much as he did.
He splashed some water on his face before he started work on Marcus’ sword. The sword was one of the largest Lugus had ever attempted, and he was eager to begin.
The kiln was fired and ready to start. He grabbed a piece of iron from the kiln and envisioned the sword before the first swing of his hammer.
~ ~ ~
Ahryn was amazed at how quickly she had lost track of time and forgotten her worries. The chore Lugus had given her had helped clear her head. She smiled, thinking of how he proclaimed to want his privacy but was continuing to help her in ways she had never dreamed.
She looked over her shoulder at him as he pounded away on the iron and found herself unable to look away. The Fae by a general rule were all beautiful creatures, but there was something primitive, powerful about Lugus that pulled her to him.
