Her eyes once more swung to the others. “The black leather is a talisman that is verra much a part of me. While it had the power to trap half my soul, so too does it have the power to fight Keir’s control over me. As long as my love’s sword is aimed true, ‘twill lessen if not extinguish the Hamilton’s power over the dragon for a time.”
“I will never aim truer, but even then I cannae imagine the blade getting anywhere near Keir. He will deflect it with his magic if nothing else,” Colin said.
“The leather around the hilt will make your blade special indeed,” Torra assured, her eyes steady on his. “Have faith in such.”
Colin inhaled deeply. “I dinnae like this one bit but will do as you ask.”
Torra nodded and looked at the others. “If all goes as planned, you will have the aide of the dragon for as long as I can manage.” Her eyes met Grant’s and Valan’s. “You will rally the Hamilton prisoners to our cause and they will follow. In little time the MacLeods that left here will arrive there and those MacLeod prisoners will better ken who they fight for.”
Her eyes flickered between Grant and Colin, saddened. “The only ones we cannae help are the warriors fighting from within the castle. ‘Tis my greatest hope that they come to their senses when put against their friends in battle. Mayhap with Colin rallying them from within and Grant when he gets through the gates, few lives will be lost.”
“Could I not get word to them sooner? Discreetly, of course,” Colin said. “After all, I’ll have a few days and no doubt verra much need the distraction.”
“Nay.” Torra shook her head. “‘Twould be unwise and far too dangerous. Keir could find out. Remember, these warriors fight for their master because they are afraid of him. Too easily could one give him the information so that they might better their station or save their own lives. Not only do they know he’s a powerful warlock but believe him to at last possess the great dragon as well.”
Colin scowled but said nothing more about it.
Torra did her very best to keep emotions at bay, but it was hard as her eyes met each and every one of theirs. “I’m afraid ‘tis time for us to go but I will forever be grateful that you were here to celebrate with me during such a momentous occasion.”
Meyla surprised Torra when she bowed then pulled her into a tight embrace. “You are fierce my dragon kin. Embrace courage and fight well.” She pulled back and eyed her. “I return to Scandinavia now but will remain forever grateful that I had this chance to meet you.”
“And I you.” Torra realized that though Adlin had said otherwise, Meyla didn’t come here to impart more information about the sword but to meet more of her kin.
Next came Valan. The dark depths of his eyes churned with emotion as he held her at arm’s length. “I will always love ye, Torra and am so verra proud. Know that my blade and magic will be at your back as we fight Keir together.” His eyes covered her face and he squeezed her arms gently. “Remember even when within the dragon, ye are never alone.”
Torra sensed he wished to embrace her but did not out of respect for Colin.
Valan turned to the MacLeod and clasped arms with him, hand to elbow. “Ye have the Hamiltons behind ye all the way. Dinnae doubt it for a second.” Then his voice went murmur soft. “Take good care of our lass, aye?”
“Aye, ye can bet your life on it,” Colin said.
Sheila and Leslie soon pulled Torra into a teary group embrace and held on tight.
“Kick Keir’s nasty, rotten ass, dragon lady,” Leslie murmured.
“Because if you don’t we will,” Sheila mumbled.
The moment they let her go, Bradon wrapped her up in his arms and squeezed her so tight the breath left her lungs. “I love you so much, sister. I willnae let you down. Stay safe, fly well and be mighty.”
Grant, like her, was clearly determined to keep his emotions at bay. But she heard the hoarseness in his voice when he leaned his forehead against hers and murmured, “Ye are ready for this, my kin. We are all ready for this. Embrace all that ye have become my powerful Scot and untouchable dragon.” Then he cupped her cheeks, his already pale gray-blue eyes lightening more so. “We’ve years ahead of us yet, lass. I will see ye well at the end of the war and we will toast our whiskey to a battle well fought and evil at last defeated.”
Torra could not help the tear that slid free as she whispered, “Aye.”
“Aye,” he whispered back.
He looked into her eyes for another long moment, lending strength, before he turned to Colin. The men didn’t bother shaking hands but embraced. When Grant pulled away, he said nothing but squeezed his friend’s shoulders. The singular look they exchanged said far more than mere words could.
Last but certainly not least was Adlin and Iosbail.
Aldin squeezed her hands, his eyes momentarily aglow in magic before they returned to normal. “Dinnae doubt yourself for even a moment, lass. You have already made your clan so verra proud and will continue to do so. Know that I love you like you were my own bairn. Go become your dragon and fight your war.” He offered her a whimsical grin. “But be sure to have a wee bit o’ fun with it. You might be surprised how the dragon will likely respond.”
The arch-wizard certainly had a knack for easing a heavy heart. She nodded and smiled. “Aye, I will try.”
Adlin embraced her then turned to Colin. “Though they were not always a bad lot I can safely say you’ve taken the best of the MacLeod bloodline. Our clans were always meant to be weaved through time. Glad I am that you were the result of some of your more questionable ancestors. ‘Tis a good seed ye are, Colin MacLeod.” His lips curled up a wee fraction and Torra swore he winked in an almost co-conspirator fashion. “And might ye have many wee bairns made of both MacLomain and MacLeod blood.”
The men shook hands and Colin nodded. “‘Twas an honor to meet you, Adlin.”
Iosbail wasted no time but pulled Torra into a hearty embrace. “How did ye think for even a moment I wouldnae be there for ye lass?”
Yet something happened when Iosbail embraced her.
A spark of magic.
Not time travel by any means but a vision of sorts…
King Erc, Iosbail’s foster father, swung up in her mind’s eye and she knew Iosbail saw him as well. Tremors rippled through her as both she and Iosbail looked into a window created by the Celt.
Then, just as swiftly, they were standing on a rocky shore in the north of Scotland.
Thunder and lightning rumbled and flashed over the angry sea. Far off, she could see several boats and a raging battle. Iosbail and Torra glanced at one another, surprised.
“It looks like we’ve taken a wee bit o’ a detour, lass.” Then Iosbail’s eyes widened on the ocean. “‘Tis my brother fighting out there.”
“Aye, so it seems.” Torra knew full well that Adlin fought alongside Alan Stewart and Caitriona. Though this had happened in her own past it was still in Iosbail’s future. She also knew this event was closely interconnected with Iosbail’s love, Alexander Sinclair. So why were they here?
“I wonder who they are.” Iosbail nodded toward a handful of men left on the shore.
It was clear the group could not see Torra and Iosbail.
Because of King Erc’s magic they could hear the group of men speaking, especially the tall, dark-haired man staring with fury out over the ocean. Torra narrowed her eyes. Gods did he look familiar. Like Valan…but not.
Her body all but froze over.
It could not be.
“My Da is defeated,” the man ground out.
“Nay,” a warrior said. “We will go help him.”
But the young man shook his head, evil glowing in his eyes. “Nay, all is lost. Time for us to go.”
Then all disappeared. Not only the men on the shore but the ships at war on the sea.
Nothing remained but Iosbail and Torra.
Then, bit by bit, a man emerged from a newborn fog as he walked toward them. Tall, broad shouldered, with deep brown eyes a
nd dark hair, he wore a rich burgundy cloak held together at the neck with a gold broach. A crown sat upon his head.
Iosbail squeezed Torra’s hand as if she tried to ground herself. Her choked voice was barely audible when she said, “Da?”
“Aye, me wee lassie,” King Erc said and wrapped Iosbail in his arms when she flew to him.
Iosbail buried her face in her father’s chest and sobbed. King Erc hung his head and held fast to his daughter. Never before had Torra witnessed such a profound moment. Though it seemed a long time in this strange otherworld in which they’d traveled to, it was likely a blip of a second before Erc pulled back and looked into Iosbail’s eyes.
“Your Ma and I are so verra proud of you.”
“Is she here then?” Iosbail looked around him.
“Nay.” He shook his head. “You did not travel through time in the common sense. Because of the fold in time created by Torra, I used a wee bit o’ Celtic magic so that we might have these moments and you might see what needed to be seen.”
Iosbail’s wet eyes met his. “I’m so verra sorry I left ‘Eire without saying goodbye. I never meant to hurt you and Ma.”
King Erc stroked her cheek, eyes tender. “You but did what you had to. Like all of us, you were part of a grand design.”
She shook her head, voice more sure by the moment. “Hence forth I will lead my life differently. I will make ye prouder!”
Wisdom shone in Erc’s eyes. “You will live your life as it was meant to be and remember this moment betwixt us only much, much later in your life.”
“Then why do it?” Iosbail asked, pained.
“Because I could not help myself. Because after all is said and done, I’ve but a human heart beating in my chest.”
“Aye,” Iosbail murmured. “As seems do we all even if born of magic.”
King Erc gave his daughter a soft smile then his eyes went to Torra and he nodded. “‘Tis good to see you beyond the plane betwixt Heaven and Hell.”
Torra smiled. “Aye, ‘tis.”
He took her hands with a warm smile on his lips. “Though you’ve been told how you must defeat him, know that you fight an old enemy lass. One that has plagued the Dalriada and MacLomains for far too long. Once known as Eoghan Dubhdiadh, Druid of the South in ‘Eire, he was an unnatural creature who though I had killed, once more found his way into reincarnates. For his need and lust for my Druidess, Chiomara, he has plagued my kin, the MacLomains in several forms, the latest in Innis MacGilleEathain’s son who you just saw on this beach.”
King Erc stared deeply into her eyes. “Did you recognize him then?”
Torra’s breath caught. “Keir Hamilton?”
“Aye,” Erc said. “A warlock so powerful that though not immortal has long escaped overly aging with his black magic alone. ‘Tis half the reason he wants you as he does. Forever haunting the MacLomain clan, he knew before most that dragon blood lived within you. He also knew if he went about everything a certain way he might just be able to harness its power.”
Iosbail stood alongside them, eyes narrowed. “So ‘twas this Innis MacGilleEathain that Adlin was just fighting upon the sea?”
“Aye and ‘twill be because of this moment that when you someday meet him you will have a nasty feeling about him indeed.” His fond eyes once more turned her way, ignited in magic. “Now ken well who your enemy is and see all done as it should be.”
Yet even as King Erc looked at Iosbail, the shore and sky shifted around them.
Then all faded…
Iosbail and Torra blinked as they pulled free from their embrace. They once more stood in the chamber of the Highland Defiance.
The Broun matriarch appeared genuinely baffled for a moment and Torra realized that as Erc had said, she remembered nothing of what had happened save finding out who Keir Hamilton actually was.
Torra made to say more to Iosbail but the woman continued as if their flashback had not occurred. But then…had it truly? Only the gods knew.
“The moment ye traveled back in time to my castle so that I knew all of this before my brother, ye had me.” Iosbail’s voice took on a distinct edge of emotion as her eyes narrowed on Torra. “I am proud to call ye my kin. Ye are everything a lass should be and more.”
Again Torra had no chance to respond before Iosbail swung her attention to Colin. “And ye! Now who saw ye coming.” She offered a low, throaty chuckle. “Seems I did.” Before the MacLeod could say a word, she cupped his cheeks, pulled his face down and locked her lips securely over his.
Colin froze and his eyes went wide.
Leslie laughed.
“Och, Iosbail,” Adlin muttered and pulled her back as he rolled his eyes.
Iosbail again chuckled and winked at Torra. “Ye did good finding this highlander.”
Torra only nodded and smiled. The more she got to know Iosbail the more she could exhale a collective sigh of relief for every lass in Scotland that the Broun eventually met King Alexander Sinclair. No doubt, that simple twist of fate saved a lot of lasses and lads heartache. Truth be told, if anyone needed to be tied down by the fidelity inherent to true love it was Iosbail Broun.
“Well, then.” Adlin set his sister aside. “‘Tis time that we’re off.”
“Will we see you again at the Hamilton castle?” Sheila said, hopeful.
For the first time since she’d met him, Adlin’s eyes turned truly sad. “Nay, I’m afraid not, lass. Only because of the Viking sword and the fold in time are Iosbail and I even here. ‘Tis unnatural to say the least because we already died.” He looked over them all fondly. “When we leave this place, we will no longer exist but be memories of the past.”
“Hell,” Leslie muttered, eyes damp as she looked at Iosbail.
Sheila wasn’t nearly so discreet. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she wrapped her arms around Adlin. “God, I’m going to miss you, my friend.”
Adlin squeezed her tightly. “Aye, and I you.”
At last Sheila pulled back, eyes still hopeful. “Will we be able to travel back in time to see you again like we have all along?”
Adlin shook his head. “Nay. Too much could go wrong with all of this if you did. ‘Tis a thing with time travel you see. It must be respected. These visits you’ve had with me on this adventure were solely for the purpose that we might stand in this verra spot at this verra moment and the great evil that is Keir Hamilton is at last defeated.”
“That makes sense.” Sheila pressed her lips together and wiped away her tears. “Still sucks though.”
“Agreed.” Adlin kissed her on the cheek. “Take care of yourself, aye?”
When Sheila nodded, he turned away and flung up his hands. As he began to chant so too did Torra and Grant. The room swirled away. The ground dropped from beneath them.
The burn of her dragon blood filled the air.
Then she landed with a soft thump…
In front of the baby oak.
Chapter Thirteen
Colin pulled Torra into his arms when he saw the stark terror on her face.
Though reality was still fragmented from traveling across Scotland via magic, he pushed past his disorientation and held her close. Trembling, she wrapped her arms around him. Eyes closed, he rested his chin on the top of her head and murmured a prayer to the gods.
They had once more returned to where it all began. And like him, she was terrified. Scared of all that lay ahead. Yet he knew now was not the time to show her weakness but strength.
After some time passed and she seemed to settle, he pulled back, gently tilted up her chin and met her eyes. “You have come so far and there isnae much further to travel, my lass.”
“And that is almost what frightens me the most,” she whispered.
“As it does me. More than you know.” While he well understood her fear, he was ready to embrace all that was to come, all that they would face together. “But I’m also ready to put the long war that has separated us to rest. As you said, so many, too many, have sacrif
iced to get us this far. ‘Tis time to face our future, to face Keir Hamilton.”
Even as he said the words, Colin knew he just wanted to get the next few days at the Hamilton castle over with. The idea that Torra would be at Keir’s whim during that time made his muscles tense and his heart hurt. Yet he also knew he could no longer talk of it to her. She had asked as much at the Defiance and he agreed. Thus, Colin was determined to be honorable and do as she asked. His lass had enough to face as it was without him giving her issue.
But gods did he fear for her.
Still, if these were to be their last moments together, he would offer only sweet words. “You are as bonnie as you were when first I saw you as not only a lass but a dragon.”
He heard the small smile in her voice. “I’ll never forget how handsome I thought you.” Her eyes were an even sage green. “But so verra serious.”
Colin quirked his lips. “Aye, lass. I worried for you.”
“But you didnae know me.”
“True,” he conceded. “But I understood the fear in your eyes, the heartache.”
“Because of your Da?”
“Mayhap a wee bit.” He shrugged. “But where my Da was always sterner than most ‘twas not his treatment of me that made me relate. ‘Twas just…” He shook his head. “Something more. I saw the suffering in your eyes, the fear in your voice, ‘twas verra intense.”
“It irks me that those memories were kept from us for so long,” she said. “All these years I remember my first time turning into a dragon happening only with Iosbail…until so recently.”
Colin well understood her distress. It irked him too. But she need not know that. “We are at the mercy of the gods, are we not? Let us be thankful that our memories have been returned to us and that they help strengthen our bond.”
Torra ran the tip of her finger along his jaw. “You have changed, Colin MacLeod.”
“Have I?” he murmured, overly aware of not only her touch but the feel of her in his arms.
“Aye,” she whispered. “You’ve learned to better control your anger. ‘Tis good this.”
Plight of the Highlander (The MacLomain Series: Next Generation Book 5) Page 19
