On Wings of Time
By Linda Boulanger
©2017 Linda Boulanger
All rights reserved.
This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without prior written permission of the copyright owner and/or the publisher of this book, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Edited by Grace Augustine/Edits with a Touch of Grace
Cover Design/Interior Design by Tell~Tale Book Covers
First released as part of the Stoking the Flames: 13 Tales of Dragons, Destiny, & Desire Box Set
Published by TreasureLine Publishing
Chapter 1
Heart hammering, Amileigh McCollum tapped the heels of her boots to her horse’s flanks. She hunkered low against his neck, not bothering to right the shoulder of her dress that had slipped off as they fled across the hillside.
“Run!” her companion had yelled. “Don’t stop until you get to the cave.”
Ami tried. She hadn’t hesitated. She’d spurred her horse into action even before the dark shadows that covered their path momentarily blocked the sun. It wasn’t until she’d heard the screeching cries that she’d looked back. The motion caused her to almost fall from her saddle, but she balanced herself just in time to slam right into the low-hanging branch of a tree.
Flying…
Floating…
Falling…
The world spun as limbs cracked and the smell of fresh turned earth churned around her. Cries and screeches overhead followed her down, drowning out the distressed groan parting her lips as she landed in a heap. Her dark-lashed lids fluttered then settled back over iced-lilac eyes that refused to stay open, not that she had the will to make them. She turned her head, the dirt beneath her grinding into the soft flesh of her ivory cheek and sticking in the massive blonde braid that trailed down to her waist. Her fingers scratched against the same earthen bedding. Was it not for the fury above her, Amileigh McCollum might have believed herself dead after being thrown from her horse. The thought that she’d been hurled into hell flashed through her mind, but she knew that wasn’t the case. Something much more menacing was at play.
Where was her companion? Her heart jolted as his voice filled her head and the memory of the moments before rushed back—him telling her to run.
She’d tried to obey, riding like the devil himself was at her tail until the sounds behind her had lured her to glance back. Disbelief clouded her vision. What she’d seen could not have been real. Something, or some things, had been behind her. Their bellowing caws and guttural growls pulled her focus, making her forget to watch where she was going. She ran a hand over her chest and winced. She’d have a bruise for sure, but at least it hadn’t been her head that had cracked against the branch and landed her in a heap on the ground.
No. Not on the ground, below it. She’d flown through the air coming down with a dull thud before the sound of breaking twigs and branches had accompanied another fall. This time she’d tumbled into a dark, earthen pit, her hand grazing its smooth side until she found herself sprawled on its rough bottom.
Ami tried to get up, fear rippled through her, queasiness gnawed at her insides. She stumbled back, sinking to her knees, her hands cushioning her head just before it hit the ground as she fell again and darkness engulfed her, pulling her from consciousness, away from the screaming battle above.
Kiernan.
Thoughts of her dear friend filled her head, jarring Amileigh awake. She scurried to a sitting position and pushed a strand of hair away from her face. She listened to the silence above. Had Kiernan called her? Is that what had awakened her? She wished she could be assured he too had gotten away from the winged beasts bearing down on them.
Shivering, she ran a finger over her dry lips and shook her head. Her disheveled braid whispered against the silken over-material that covered her linen dress. He wasn’t dead. If he was, she was certain she would feel it. And she couldn’t. The problem was, she felt nothing. Nothing at all. She had the sense that she was floating nowhere and everywhere at the same time, her body suspended in an unsettling state of limbo.
Swiping at a tear that managed to roll down her dirtied cheek, Amileigh let her head loll back against the earthen wall of her cell. In the dim light, she looked around. This didn’t look like one of the passageways to the underground caves beneath the hills around her home. It was too fresh and she could see no other way out than the opening above her head. If it was a trap, someone had surely put it in an idiotic place. What had they intended to trap, anyway? She looked up, guessing it hadn’t been there long, otherwise the vegetation from above would have begun to make its way down the smooth surface of the walls.
With a sigh, she closed her eyes, letting exhaustion pull her into fitful sleep.
Clawing her way from the nightmare she’d been having about great winged creatures chasing her, Amileigh shivered at the thought of the decrepit beasts with their marred flesh that smelled of evil. Jagged razor-sharp teeth chipped and blackened in places from lack of care, and claws coated with filth and debris left over from their last battle… they had been so hideous she could barely look at them.
Not so with the dragon who flew before them. His unusual beauty drew her, commanding her eyes to stay on him. Covered with sparkling, glass-like scales—blue, purple, green—his beauty sparked a sense of nirvana deep inside her. Even at his enormous size, he still managed a graceful glide across the skies. Looking at him hadn’t filled her with the dread and fear she’d felt from the others either. More, she’d felt nurtured, guarded. She sensed him standing between her and the others, knowing that as long as he was there, they couldn’t harm her.
Not that they wouldn’t try. For some reason, they’d wanted her badly. In the dream, the beautiful dragon had fought to keep them away while coaxing her, urging her to keep going. Run, he’d yelled at her. Only she had no idea where she was supposed to go or how long she was supposed to continue.
But she had run. As long as she could, as fast as her feet would carry her, until her arms began to feel heavy and her legs numb. As her strength began to wane, her heart pounded in fear that his would too. If she stopped or he failed…
Amileigh sat up, choking back a sob when she took in her surroundings, realizing her plight was real. Dear God, she thought. She had no idea what their task was or how they were to accomplish it, only that they could not fail. Something far greater than the two of them hung in the balance.
Sitting straighter, she pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them wishing she’d taken the cloak her mother had suggested. The pit had grown chilly. She looked up again and saw less light than before. It must be nightfall. Laying her cheek against her knee, she closed her eyes again wondering when they would come looking for her. She sighed. How many hours had it been? It seemed like years.
Loneliness pressed in around her until its weight lulled her into another restless sleep.
At some point Amileigh had laid down because when she woke she was curled into a fetal position, her arm a poor pillow beneath the right side of her face. Her attempted stretch was met with a grimace and surprise that her muscles were more stiff than sore. She frowned and pushed up to her knees before standing up the rest of the way and craning her neck skywar
d. At least it was day. Her family would surely be looking for her. They had to be worried sick.
Her frown deepened, concern contorting her pretty features as she stared at the upper walls of the pit. Goosebumps prickled her arms and she rubbed her hands up and down the sleeves of her gown. Where there had been no vegetation, lush vines now grew, drooping down the walls, stopping just beyond her reach. When she stepped forward, dried earth crunched beneath her feet, causing her to look down. She was surprised to see the leaves and other forest debris littering the pit’s previously clean, packed floor, and the moistness in the dirt walls had given way to earth that broke into small fragments and fell at her touch.
Ami’s heart beat wildly beneath the curved neckline of her gown. She spun in a slow circle taking in the newness of the old space. What had happened? There was no way it could have changed that quickly. Vines didn’t grow where none had been, and ground deep within the earth didn’t dry up and roughen overnight any more than… dragons roamed the skies.
Amileigh collapsed in a heap on the rubbish-laden floor, great sobs shook her entire body. What was happening? Why hadn’t she heard the sounds of anyone looking for her? She wasn’t that far from home and surely even if something had happened to Kiernan—perish the thought—her brothers would have thought to check the cave. She would have heard them riding by or calling out to her as they and the staff of Somerled fanned out to find her.
That’s what they’d done when the smithy’s daughter had disappeared two summers ago, and again when her brother’s best broodmare had gone missing a few months back. They surely wouldn’t leave her without even trying.
When her tears began to subside, Amileigh rolled to her back, not bothering to rein in the ragged breaths that came on the heels of her sobbing. She stared at the opening above her, growing dizzy from the feeling that the world was spinning much faster than it should be. Slowly, she closed her eyes, welcoming the darkness that once again invaded her mind.
Feather-light caresses tickled Amileigh’s face, rousing her to just below the surface of consciousness. She tried to push away the offender. Her eyes fluttered several times before fully opening, the lilac orbs inside sparkling, even in the darkened depths of the pit. She sucked in hard when she looked around. While she’d slept, thick vines had crawled down the earthen walls, fanning out to form strange flooring.
Pushing up from the floor, Ami reached out only to draw her hand back. Don’t think. Act. She had no choice. Questioning the how and why of any of what had happened to her wasn’t going to get her out of this hell.
She clenched her fists, then shook them out and grabbed one of the vines, giving it a yank to test its strength. The way they’d grown down, attaching to themselves and creating something of a nature-made netting, seemed anything but natural. They felt strange within her palms, smooth and almost cold, but without the give that one might expect from vegetation. They were nothing like the thick vines that grew up the West wall of Somerled Keep. She remembered times when she and her brothers had been instructed to help thin them, pulling them down so they wouldn’t cover the few windows on that end of her family home.
With a deep breath, she pushed the memory away and raised her foot, only to have it tangle on the hem of her long skirt. She huffed and stepped back, her hands on her hips for a few seconds before she began to untie the ribbon at her waist and grabbed the hem of her underskirt, pulling it up to where it caught both the silk overlay and her linen dress. Tying it about her waist with the ribbon, she prayed no one would see her before she could get her legs covered.
The vines groaned and swayed, but didn’t give way as she climbed. Half way up, she no longer cared if anyone saw her. Strong arms to pull her the rest of the way would have been an answered prayer, but no help came. With exhaustion threatening to send her back into the pit, she gave herself a mental slap and pushed her way through the overgrown shrubbery that hid her sunken cell, climbing free just as the earth beneath her began to shake. Amileigh stood on wobbly legs and stumbled farther away from the mouth of the pit, where she clung to the base of a tree until the ground finally stopped moving and she could push herself up.
With a sigh, she stood and looked around, trying to get her bearings. How long had it been since there’d been rumbling like that? They’d had a few tremors from time to time, but nothing that had lasted more than a few seconds. Kiernan had told her once of a legend that said the earth shook when the mighty dragons sleeping beneath rolled over, and that someday there would be a great shaking when they awakened and burst forth from their dirty graves. She shivered. She hadn’t believed him then, telling him there were no such things as dragons. But did she believe him now? Had she truly seen winged creatures? Goosebumps pocked her arms as she fixed her skirts and brushed herself off. She needed to get home, to Somerled. Maybe then she would find her answers. Maybe then she’d find out this was all just a silly dream.
The dried grasses grabbed at the hem of Amileigh’s long skirts, scratching at her legs beneath. She ignored them as best she could and trudged onward, fighting against a sense of heavy foreboding. She pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to alleviate the droning hum that had begun even before she’d clawed her way to freedom. The noise, she’d noticed, had intensified with every step she’d taken in the direction of Somerled.
Her heartbeat tripled when she topped the hill on the back side and caught sight of the old castle her family called home. Ami lifted her skirts with one hand, pushed back the long blonde curl that fell across her cheek, and quickened her pace. She should have secured her braid better, knowing that she and Kiernan would be galloping over the Lochlainn hillsides. She’d always loved their rides, loved the feel of the wind rushing around her letting her imagine she was almost flying. What she didn’t love, at the moment, was Kiernan.
Amileigh slapped her free hand against her thigh thinking that’s what she’d like to do to the man’s face. Her nostrils flared and her lips now were a thin line. She still couldn’t believe he’d left her confined in that hellish pit. She covered her heart. The foreboding remained, though not in connection with dear Kiernan Tavish.
He was still alive. She could feel him. But her family, her home… something had happened between the time she’d tumbled down into the pit and found her face against the coolness of the dank, earthy confines and now. The whirling of unanswered questions made her dizzy. She pushed away her concerns as she stopped on the perimeter of Somerled’s lawn. Home, and the security that went with her life, stood before her.
Ignoring the uneasiness roiling inside her, Amileigh ran across the tamed section of the yard, the silence surrounding the castle sounding its loud, cautioning sentry salute. She ignored the nonexistent barking of the dogs that didn’t greet her upon her return, as well as the lack of workers milling about. No one chopped wood or beat rugs. There were no servants’ children playing on the back lawn like they usually did that time of day, no chickens tending to their busy work of scratching and clucking in the henhouse not far from the door that led to the kitchens… in fact, it wasn’t until she took in the front of the house that she realized there had been no henhouse at all, just a pile of overgrown rubble.
Ami stepped around the corner. Her heart lodged in her throat, and she had to force herself to move forward. Tears welled in her eyes as she choked down the bile rising in her throat. She stepped onto the felled stones that should have comprised the entryway of her family’s home. Beneath her feet, debris and grass replaced the imported Turkish flooring that had been brought in by boat and wagon. Her mother would have been devastated to see the smashed remnants of what little remained of her cuerda seca tiles, especially the large oval displaying the family crest in the center of the floor. No more of the floral patterns either—the stark contrast of soothing yellow and blue flowers edged in black, interspersed with the light gold hued tiles… rubble. Gone were the wooden furnishings and family heirlooms that should have welcomed her.
Disbelief clouded her vi
sion as she turned slowly, moving closer to where the bottom of a grand staircase began. Hands and lips shaking, she reached toward one of the few remaining walls. The stones, cold beneath her fingers, felt much as they had the last time she’d touched them. She closed her eyes, envisioning herself racing back up the stairs to get her riding gloves, her fingertips trailing along the stones. Only there were no stairs to grant her passage upward now. The lovely banister her father had commissioned to fulfill her mother’s dream… gone. And her family? They surely weren’t there, but were they gone as well? She closed her eyes, resting her forehead against the stones, trying to sense some form of life. All she felt was the vibration from the continued droning hum in her head. And… voices?
Amileigh sucked in, the sharp breath nearly making her cough. Her eyes went wide when she heard the sound again and realized the owners of the voices were coming closer. Covering her mouth just in time to muffle the cough, she hurried to the hidden cutout right inside the hallway that led to what had been her father’s study and the library beyond.
The yellow drawing room and doors that opened to a rose garden had been down there as well. It was all gone, except for the section of the wall that held the tiny alcove. Its purpose had been to secret away servants from the view of guests passing down the hall. Amileigh had used it to hide from a justly irate parent or to spy on unsuspecting visitors when she was a small child. Now it would provide cover so she could hear and possibly see without the owners of the voices knowing she was there.
“Put your shirt on, you ass. Nobody wants to look at all that skin. Even if it is covered by some pretty amazing ink.”
Amileigh frowned. Ink? Why would it be on his skin?
The other voice made some scoffing noises before commenting. “Don’t give me that, Mairi. You know you love it. You’re probably wettin’ your jeans just thinking about running your tongue over every last inch of…”
“Shut up, you dick. We both know there’s only one Tavish brother I want to run my tongue over. And he sure as hell ain’t you.”
On Wings of Time (Lochlainn Guardians Book 1) Page 1
