The Tartan MP3 Player (Highland Secrets Book One)

by C. A. Szarek

  “I’ve found the Faery Stones.”

  * * * *

  Well, the Faery Stones weren’t much to look at. And they didn’t look like stones at all, at least not from the current view. Closer to a crevice in the fragmented cliffs that lead away from the beach and crept up into a hillside.

  Claire looked around at the section of sand and rock before them, but still nothing was familiar.

  Why do I still have missing memories?

  “This is it?” Duncan breathed.

  Bridei practically glowed as she nodded, her dark hair shifting around her shoulders.

  Claire frowned.

  Does the chick want a cookie for locating something she lied about?

  Duncan moved toward the split in the cliff face. Although the entrance was cave-like, it wasn’t very wide. Her husband’s broad shoulders blocked the view, and he’d have to duck, possibly turn sideways to enter.

  “Let’s go,” he ordered. “Claire-lass, come to me. Take my arm.”

  She scrambled forward and took his outstretched hand. The group let Duncan enter the fissure first. Claire heard the shuffling of booted feet behind her, smelled the sweaty bodies of male pirates. She made a face and clung to Duncan’s back, slipping her arms around his waist.

  He paused, but patted her forearm and walked forward, taking her with him via much longer legs.

  The cavity opened up into a cavern, once they were inside, and Duncan was able to straighten. The ceiling was low, though. If he reached up, he could touch it.

  Riley’s men poured in too close for comfort in the space, and Claire inched closer to Duncan.

  Of course in many a book she’d read, it’d been made obvious that people bathed less in this time, but all the MacLeods she’d met didn’t suffer that affliction. Duncan’s clan was clean and well cared for.

  She tried not to make a face at all the hairy beards, sweaty bandanas plastered to shaggy heads, and most definitely body odor and stained tunics.

  Bridei made her way to the front of the group and pointed to five clustered stalagmites on the floor of the cave.

  One was perfectly centered, and the other four encircled it. About four feet tall, the one in the middle had what looked like a crystal on top of it—more like the crystal was the top of the formation. It shone brightly, even though there wasn’t much light inside the cavern. Like it glowed from the inside.

  “Faery Stones.” Bridei’s tone was reverent.

  Duncan’s strong frame shook beside her.

  Claire put her arm around his waist. In turn, her husband slipped his around her shoulders and pinned her to his side.

  This is it.

  She swallowed hard.

  “Open them,” Duncan ordered the seer.

  “Some words of caution first, my laird.”

  Is she going to admit she’s not sure if she can do it?

  If Bridei succeeded…if she opened the portal to the Fae’s realm and to the future, which doorway should Claire take?

  Can I say goodbye before he gets his brother back?

  Duncan nodded, oblivious to her internal war.

  “When we cross over, the Fae will likely know we’re in their realm immediately. They can sense humans from great distances.” Bridei’s voice held the confidence of someone who knew what they were talking about, but Claire didn’t like it.

  No one called Bridei on her inability to open the Stones the first time she’d tried. She was charismatic—Claire had to give her that. Every one of the pirates—including Riley, hung on her every word.

  Her huge breasts heaving in that barely-there corset couldn’t hurt, either.

  But Claire’s stomach churned, and she clung to Duncan’s side. Was grateful for his warmth seeping into her body through her clothing.

  “My grandmother told me tales of how the Stones work and what to expect.”

  “Her grandmother?” Claire asked.

  “Was Fae.” Bridei’s haughty tone held pride.

  Claire wanted to roll her eyes. Not because she didn’t believe the seer, but because she couldn’t stand arrogance.

  She’d make it a mission that little Angus didn’t grow up feeling better because he was half Fae—especially given the way his mother’s people felt about him.

  “It is also likely when we arrive in the Realm of the Fae there’ll be soldiers to greet us. Guards from the other side of the portal. Fae Warriors are fierce and can fly. They have wings and magic.” Duncan’s deep voice jolted Claire, and she jumped. He squeezed her against his side and she took a breath.

  “We will attack!” Riley’s shout caused his men to rally.

  They all drew swords and hollered battle cries in English and Gaelic.

  Tremors raced each other down her spine.

  Suddenly this feels like I’m in Braveheart…or a pirate flick.

  If she went with her husband and the pirates, it wouldn’t be a staged war. Spilled blood would be real. People who were hurt or died wouldn’t get up when the camera shut off.

  No camera.

  Everything was real.

  The wilds of 1672 before her eyes.

  Combat.

  Danger.

  Not only the lives of the stinky pirates.

  Duncan’s life was at risk. Claire’s too, if she stayed at his side, like her heart demanded.

  She gulped.

  “Open the portal,” Duncan commanded.

  Bridei beamed.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Wind swirled around the small cave, making Bridei’s skirts shift, then plaster to her legs as it rose in strength. She had both hands on the crystal that rested on the top of the stalagmite in the middle of the five.

  Duncan watched her face redden with her magical and physical efforts, but other than the wind, nothing happened.

  He tamped down frustration and stood as still as he could, holding on to Claire’s shoulders as she squeezed his middle almost too tight.

  The moving air tugged at his tunic. Fabric rustled all around him, like the sails of the Fancy Seer at full-speed-ahead.

  Surrounding pirates were staring wide-eyed, most had mouths half-agape. If they hadn’t held the seer in awe before, they would now. Not just because of her physical attributes and loose favors.

  “It’s not working.” Riley paced, the only one not frozen. “T’was faster last time, I remember, too.” His thick Irish brogue made Duncan frown.

  “It didn’t work right last time,” Claire said. “I was brought here.”

  The pirate captain ignored Duncan’s wife, moving faster as he crossed the small cave.

  “Riley, calm. I need to concentrate.” Bridei’s voice was strained, her brow dotted with sweat, her face alight from the glowing crystal.

  Her lover glared, but obeyed, crossing his arms over his chest and standing close by.

  “My laird, I need your assistance,” the seer called without looking away from the crystal.

  “Mine?”

  It was rumored he descended from a line of Fae, though how Bridei had known was a mystery. MacLeod legend claimed that an ancestor some three hundred years before had married a Fae princess—not unlike his brother.

  Duncan had never believed, though his father swore it the truth. The man had been the laird, a grandfather many times removed.

  If he did have Fae blood, it was minute. How could Duncan help the seer who was one-quarter Fae according to her own declaration?

  Claire squeezed him, and he looked down at the woman he called wife. His heart skipped when their gazes collided.

  He’d made a vow to get her home—which was what she wished.

  It mattered not that Duncan didn’t want to let her go. He’d always been a man of his word.

  So if his touch would help the seer open the gate to get his brother, as well as his wife’s distant future, he’d do what he could.

  Even if goodbye was imminent.

  Her emerald eyes were deep pools of emotion, like they’d been before Bridei had called
out on the beach.

  Duncan’s gut tightened. Claire must be anxious to get home.

  How was he going to let her go?

  The lass had wheedled her way into his heart. When it’d happened, he hadn’t a clue, but he cared about her.

  A voice whispered it was much more, but Duncan refused to place a word to it. He’d never said that word to a lass in his life.

  Besides, Claire had married him with only the promise of protection. She’d said their marriage was temporary. He’d agreed. The means to the end of a mutual goal.

  A goal that finally had come to a head.

  He’d benefited from her sweet body in his bed. Duncan would have to content himself with that, because if he was honest, he’d never get over Claire walking away from him.

  He couldn’t dwell on it now.

  You have a task.

  He had to fight for what they both wanted.

  Duncan wanted to taste her lips one last time, but settled for a look he hoped conveyed how he felt about her.

  If everything went as planned, Bridei would open the portals at the same time. Claire could go home; Duncan would get his brother.

  “My laird.” The seer’s voice had an urgent edge.

  He reluctantly released his wife.

  The moment Duncan’s hands landed next to Bridei’s on the crystal, the wind inside the cavern gained more strength, reminiscent of a stormy gale on the Minch. He tightened his grip as the seer’s hair flew in every direction, obscuring her face.

  “It’s working!” Riley’s shout made Duncan jump, but he maintained his hold on the Faery Stone.

  Popping sounds were born, one after another, growing louder and louder.

  Sweat beaded on his forehead.

  Bridei’s face was as red as the sash around her waist, but she too held tight to the crystal.

  White light shot straight up from the crystal, so bright Duncan had to crush his eyes shut. His hands burned and a blast of power smacked through his whole body.

  It wasn’t painful, exactly, but it made his heart beat so hard his head spun, temples throbbed.

  “Duncan!” His wife’s shout jolted him, but he didn’t loosen his hands, even as a loud pop rang in his ears.

  Duncan opened his eyes.

  The whole cavern shimmered and wavered as a glowing bubble appeared before them. It hovered above the ground before floating downward, stopping a few inches in the air. At first hazy, opaque, it started to clear, like multicolored clouds retreating.

  Groundcover was visible. Unnatural in color, a mixture of orange and bright blue.

  “We did it!” Bridei yelled, jumping up and down. Her face was flushed pink, her chest heaving. “Ye can move, my laird. We must hurry. I’ve no idea how long it will remain open.”

  Claire’s hands on him made Duncan shiver. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded.

  She stood tiptoed and pressed her mouth to his. Duncan kissed her back, but didn’t linger as he would’ve liked to. The seer was right.

  “How did you…help her?”

  “Long story, lass. For another time.”

  She nodded, but worried her bottom lip. “There’s no gate to my time.”

  Duncan’s heart skipped at her anxious tone. “Come with me. We’ll get my brother. Then we’ll get ye home, mo gradh. I made ye a promise. I intend to keep it.”

  “Let’s go! Swords at the ready, men.” Riley’s order elicited hollers, then both Irish and Scottish Gaelic battle cries.

  Duncan let the pirates rush through the bubble-like gateway, unable to tear his eyes away from his wife.

  Claire’s emerald eyes were wide and misty.

  “Stay by my side when we go into the Realm of the Fae. I’ll protect ye, Claire-lass. Like I vowed to get ye home, I’ll keep ye safe when we’re there.”

  “I know you will. I’ll help you get your brother.” Her delectable mouth was set in a hard line, but her words wobbled.

  Duncan took her mouth, he couldn’t help it. He needed to get that look off her face. He kept the kiss short, but deep. “Thank ye, mo gradh.” He entwined their fingers and sprinted for the portal, Claire tight to his side.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Utter chaos greeted Duncan and Claire’s arrival into the Fae’s world.

  Her husband had been right.

  They had a welcoming party.

  The Faery Stones on this side matched their counterparts in the cave, but instead of a white crystal, it glowed red, like a red-alert alarm on Star Trek.

  Menacing.

  Was that normal, or because they’d intruded?

  They were out in the open, too—not hidden in a cave, or on a beach—perched on a lavish golden pedestal. As if someone cut them from the floor of whatever cave they’d grown in.

  Giant, winged men swooped down, swords drawn. The clanging of metal on metal surrounded, burning her ears and making her shake from head to foot.

  Worse than any war movie she’d ever seen.

  They were like avenging angels, but their wings were fairy-like. Fragile-looking and iridescent, catching the light and shining like a prism.

  However, their use of weapons was definitely more Gabriel than Tinkerbell.

  One swooped down and slashed at a pirate before retreating to the air, his long black rope-like braid swinging as he flew away.

  Claire winced.

  Duncan had his huge claymore drawn, and he backed them toward the line of—pink and purple trees?

  The forest was riddled with unnatural foliage. Bright colors of every hue imaginable. Grass and underbrush was blue, orange and neon yellow. Tree trunks were from maroon to deep red. The ground was covered with pink and purple leaves. Bright, like a box of Crayolas had vomited all over the place.

  “Stay behind me, lass!”

  No argument from me.

  Claire gripped the back of his tunic and moved her feet when he shifted his. They probably looked like they were doing some sort of demented dance as they sought cover.

  But the winged creatures—men, whatever—were paying no attention to Claire and her husband. They were on the ground for the most part, fighting hand-to-hand and sword-to-sword with Riley’s men.

  Taking to the air only to dive and slash. Some of them used their long braids—they all had them—as a weapon.

  Claire didn’t see Bridei or the pirate captain, but perhaps it was like Duncan had suspected. They’d abandoned their companions in search of riches.

  The Fae Warriors hollered to each other in an unfamiliar language, then attacked Riley’s men in formation, as a unit.

  She had to look away from all the Saving Private Ryan style blood and guts. Her stomach was queasy.

  Claire cringed as she saw a Fae Warrior run a pirate through with a sword the same size as Duncan’s.

  “There’s the palace!” Duncan pointed.

  Claire followed his gesture. A giant castle—like three or four of Dunvegans loomed on the horizon. The stones—or whatever it was made of—glistened multicolored beams of light in all directions.

  Beautiful, but God, it’s so far.

  How are we going to get Alex?

  Claire blew out a breath and blinked.

  Duncan gasped.

  Immediately she spotted what he had. “The castle…it’s gone.”

  “Magic, mo gradh.”

  “Dammit, what now?”

  “We find my brother. It might’ve gone from sight, but it didn’t move. We’ll find it.”

  “Okay…what about…” Claire gestured to the men fighting—and dying—near the Faery Stones.

  “I’ve no issue with these Fae killing Riley’s pirates.”

  “Karma.” She shivered.

  “What, lass?”

  “It means, they’ll get what they deserve. What goes around comes around.”

  “Ah. I understand.” Duncan flexed his fingers on the hilt of his sword. He turned to go deeper into the colored forest. “Stay tight to me, Claire-lass. No one is attackin
g us yet, but I’m no fan of leaving things to luck.”

  A hand covered her mouth and someone seized her from behind.

  * * * *

  The faery guy wrapped his arms around her and pushed off the ground.

  Claire screamed as his iridescent wings pumped. They rose higher into the air, reaching the top of the unnatural pink and purple trees.

  She didn’t fight him even as her back was pinned to the hard armor formed to his chest. He might drop her.

  “Be at ease. I shan’t hurt you.” His accent was Scottish, but it was refined, every word annunciated in a way the MacLeods’ words weren’t.

  A roar shattered the air, reaching her ears even above the din of clashing swords and yelling men.

  Duncan.

  She looked down to see her husband running beneath them, his claymore held high. “Put me down, bring me back!”

  “I need a moment of your time, my lady. Then I promise I’ll return you to your husband, Duncan MacLeod.”

  Claire stilled in his strong grip.

  How does he know that?

  “I read your mind, my lady. You are not of our time.”

  Read my mind?

  “Yes, it’s a part of my magic. I also sense intent. I know why you’ve come.”

  The Fae Warrior changed direction, flying downward into the multicolored trees. Instead of pink and purple, these were bright orange, pale yellow and blue.

  Still unnatural.

  “I prefer the colors of this realm over the muted greens and browns of the human world,” the warrior said.

  “Get out of my head,” Claire snapped.

  “I apologize, my lady. Fae know how to block their thoughts.”

  “I’m not Fae.”

  The warrior touched down on a wide wooden porch. They were in the trees, though.

  Claire looked around, too dumbstruck to move as the tall man—Fae—whatever, released her.

  A circle-shaped door was painted green and sat as if it was carved out of a trunk so wide she couldn’t see where, or if, it started to round.

  Of course fairies live in trees.

  The Fae Warrior wore a smirk on his handsome face when Claire met his gaze.

  “Seriously, get out of my head.”

  He inclined his head and bowed at the waist.