Passion of a Scottish Warrior (The MacLomain Series: Later Years Book 4)

by Sky Purington

  “Aye, suspicious enough for us to stay put.”

  Eara stomped her foot and neighed.

  “What is it, Eara?” he asked.

  No response.

  Instead, the horse neighed louder and stomped her foot again.

  “I’d say Eara agrees,” Jackie said. “Time to get off.”

  Though he didn’t seem pleased in the least, Darach grunted, swung off then pulled her down. Jackie strode over and knelt in front of the tree. There it was. A tiny little acorn. “Oh, look at it.”

  “Where, lass?” He crouched beside her. “I dinnae see anything.”

  When an all too familiar tingling ran through her, she held out her palm beneath it. She swore she saw a burst of sparkles before the acorn fell into her hand.

  Darach’s eyes widened. “That wasnae there a moment ago.”

  “Uh oh.” She closed her fist around the acorn as colors started to swirl around the little oak. Darach pulled her away as the tree twisted into a small tornado and wind whipped at them. He wrapped his arms around her but not before the tornado flew into her closed palm.

  “Holy crap,” she exclaimed but didn’t release the acorn. Rather, she clenched it tighter when Darach pressed her head against his chest as the wind increased. It was so strong, he barely kept them afoot as he braced his legs.

  When the wind finally stopped, darkness shrouded them at first. Jackie blinked as she tried to adjust to the dim lighting. “Where are we?”

  Darach kept her close and narrowed his eyes. “I think ‘tis the meadow in front of MacLomain Castle.”

  Again, he was right. The castle was a dim shadow backdropped by a soupy, dark loch. Like it was outside Hamilton Castle when they left, everything appeared dead.

  “What’s that?” he whispered.

  “What?”

  “Come.” He pulled her after him. “I think I see someone lying on the ground.”

  Jackie ran after him. Someone was lying on the ground. The closer they got, the odder she began to feel. Almost a sense of trepidation. Darach slowed within feet of the body and shook his head. “Nay, it cannae be!”

  He tore away, raced the rest of the way and fell to his knees. “Da?” Jackie bit back tears as he flipped the man over and pulled his head onto his lap.

  It was Grant.

  Darach pressed his ear to Grant’s chest. “Nay,” he whispered. “No heartbeat.” He shook his father a little, his voice strained. “Wake up, Da. We wouldnae be here if there wasnae hope for ye.”

  Jackie knelt beside them and watched in distress as Darach continued trying to bring his father back from death in a land that was just as dead.

  “Bring him back, lass.” His bloodshot eyes met hers. “Please, ye can do it.”

  Her eyes went to Grant. “Of course…I’ll try,” she stuttered and touched him.

  “Focus on anger,” Darach urged, face ravaged with grief, “emotion.”

  Jackie nodded and did just that. Yet nothing happened. No tingles. No heat.

  “Please, lass,” Darach pleaded. “Ye need to try harder.”

  “I am. I will.” She nodded, upset that she was letting him down. “I’ll try even harder.”

  “Aye.” He looked from her to Grant as she tried to relive her emotions. To really feel them. The anger she felt when Grant was murdered by the demi-god. The sadness she felt for everyone who lost him. Her anger at young Grant’s hardships. Though she felt the emotions, and let them flow through her, nothing happened, and Darach only grew more upset.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “Forgive me.”

  Incredibly sad, Darach’s eyes held hers as he cradled his father’s head. “There isnae anything to forgive,” he murmured. “Ye tried yer best.”

  Watching him go through this all over again about ripped her heart out.

  “Did I?” She shook her head. “You don’t know that. Neither do I. Maybe I’m not thinking the right thoughts or doing the right thing.”

  “Ye did, lass,” he said. “I know ye did.”

  She shook her head again and stared at Grant without really seeing him. No, all she could focus on were her mistakes. On things unrelated to this moment but determined to surface. “I should have gotten a second opinion. I should’ve seen more doctors. Instead, I just gave up.”

  “Erin was right.” Her eyes met Darach’s. “I gave up without fighting. I forgave everyone and everything and just gave in.”

  He didn’t seem to think it odd in the least that she spoke of this right now.

  “Ye gave in to what is likely an unnatural tumor.” He took her hand. “Ye cannae be faulted for that.”

  “Can’t I?” She frowned. “You’re right. I have been a coward.”

  “Nay, I was wrong.” He shook his head. “You made a decision and stuck by it. That isnae cowardly.” His eyes held hers. “You found peace in your decision. That is your choice and ‘tis commendable. Erin and I only argued otherwise because we love you so bloody much.”

  Jackie bit her lower lip and looked at Grant, not sure how to respond.

  “I think you’re amazing, lass.” Darach tilted up her chin until their eyes met. “But it seems you’ve one last person to forgive.”

  “Who?”

  “You.” His brows shot up. “After being inside your head, I’d say deciding not to fight your illness is the least of it. I think you need to forgive yourself for not standing up to your uncle far sooner and for allowing him to tear away what was once a happy childhood. I think you need to forgive yourself for allowing your uncle to mold you into something you barely recognized and didn’t much enjoy. For tearing away the spirit you once called yours.”

  “Forgive yourself, lass.” His eyes stayed with hers. “That’s what your parents would have wanted.”

  Her lip trembled at his words. At how profoundly they affected her. That he said them now with his dead father in his arms—someone she couldn’t save though she had saved so many—made it almost impossible to draw breath.

  Was he right? Had she forgiven everyone else when she was the one that needed it most? Had she really stopped standing up for herself and become something she wasn’t? She had escaped some of it when she was with her friends, but when she found out how sick she was, she’d reverted yet again. Even around them.

  But she wasn’t that woman anymore.

  Not since traveling back in time.

  Not since meeting Darach.

  “You’re right,” she whispered. “I do need to forgive…myself.”

  “Then do so.” He cupped her cheek. “Forgive yourself and be who you’re supposed to be. The lass I met time and time again in my dreams. The lass you’ve always been beneath it all.” His eyes warmed though sadness remained. “Do that little forgive, forgive chant for yourself this time.”

  “Okay.” Her voice grew hoarse as she closed her eyes and did what he suggested.

  And she meant it.

  She’d become someone else because she thought she had no choice. It was what made sense if she hoped to keep her inheritance. No, that was wrong. It had never really been about the money but about losing her home. Losing the life she once had. She did everything to conform and become someone else for her uncle, her young mind convinced that she did it for her parents.

  But they wouldn’t want her to change. To become a shell of her former self. They would want her to be exactly who she was now. Fearless. Selfless. Proud. Loving. Kind. Loyal. Happy. Wasn’t that all they’d ever wanted for her?

  So, in the end, she forgave herself because despite everything she was exactly who she should be. More than that, she had everything they could have hoped for her. Good friends. Strength. True love. Happiness.

  A new sense of peace spread through her.

  Something she had never felt before.

  Absolute forgiveness.

  When tingling began in her hand, her eyes shot open. “The acorn!”

  She opened her fist to find it glowing. When she set it down, it sank into t
he ground, and a sprout shot up.

  “Look at your ring, lass,” Darach murmured.

  Her eyes widened. The black swirled away as blue shone brighter and brighter and the sprout grew taller and taller.

  “Och.” Darach grabbed Grant under the arms and started dragging him, but it was too late. None of them moved fast enough to scramble away from the thick trunk that formed as it and its branches shot to the sky. Instead, they rolled a few times before leaves started to blossom.

  By the time it finished growing, her ring shined a bright bluish gray, and the tree was full grown. More than that, Grant was propped against its trunk blinking.

  “Da?” Darach stumbled closer. “Are ye…alive?”

  “Aye,” Grant croaked before he cleared his throat and focused on Darach. “Now this has been a wee bit o’ magic I hope to never use again.”

  “Thank, God,” Darach muttered before he threw his arms around his father. “You’re really alive.”

  “Aye, lad.” Grant hugged him right back. “Thanks to you and Jackie.”

  Darach helped his father stand. “Are you well?”

  “I am.” Grant said, and pulled Jackie into a tight embrace. “I’m verra proud of you, lass. My son is lucky to have you.”

  “And I’m lucky to have him,” she said softly. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

  “Aye.” He pulled away and eyed the tree with pride. “What a beauty.”

  “’Tis,” Darach agreed as he took her hand and looked up at the tree. “But I dinnae ken how ‘tis here…now.” His eyes fell to his father. “Or you for that matter.”

  “I once told you this tree was born of great love.” Grant’s eyes went from her to Darach as he grinned. “Great love, indeed.”

  “But I thought the stories were about Aunt Torra and Uncle Colin’s love,” Darach said. “Did they not create the baby oak?”

  “Aye,” Grant said. “But ‘twas you and your lass who made sure it ended up here. Exactly where it needed to be.”

  Jackie frowned, trying to remember what she had learned about this clan. “Forgive me if I’m wrong but how is that possible when this tree was here twenty-seven years ago, but yet it was just created now?”

  “Because there is no such thing as the passing of time in the Otherworld. ‘Tis like any other supernatural world. So right now can just as easily be twenty-seven winters ago.” Grant’s eyes fell to her ring. “Speaking of time, we’ve little left now that your ring has ignited. The demi-god has been tracking you, but thankfully we’ve stayed one step ahead.” He started for the castle. “Good to see you’ve got the sword with you, Darach. You’ll need it soon.”

  Darach pulled her after him. “What's going on, Da?”

  “I’ll tell you soon enough,” Grant said.

  They jogged to catch up.

  “Da, there’s nothing here but death.” He gestured at the castle. “No people. Nothing. We’re in the Otherworld.”

  “Aye,” Grant agreed. “The Otherworld.”

  Darach frowned. “You’re reminding me a bit of Adlin right now.”

  “Aye?” A small smile curved Grant’s lips. “’Tis nice to hear.”

  She and Darach glanced at each other, confused.

  “Do you know where Eara went?” Jackie said. “Is she okay?”

  “I would imagine,” Grant replied as he strode over the drawbridge. The moat was dry, and the portcullises appeared to be rusted open. “But you can ask her yourself.”

  “I can…” Jackie started but stopped as they headed for the second portcullis. Eara was trotting around in the courtyard.

  “Eara, you’re here,” she exclaimed as the horse trotted up to her. “I don’t understand.”

  “’Tis hard to ken any of this, lass,” Eara said. “Worry less about me and follow Grant, aye?”

  “Please do,” Grant encouraged as he strode through the courtyard. “We’re almost out of time.”

  Darach nodded and pulled her after him. “But what about Eara?”

  When she glanced back, the horse was gone. More confused than ever, she stumbled up the stairs after Darach. They only made it about a quarter of the way before a terrible sound screeched overhead and the land started shaking.

  Grant whipped around and eyed the sky. “Hurry up! We cannae use our magic here.”

  “But the tree,” Darach argued as they struggled up the stairs despite the rumbling. “’Twas great magic, aye?”

  Jackie glanced back one more time to see if Eara had returned and tripped.

  “I’ve got you, lass,” Darach said as he turned back to help her.

  Eyes frozen on the horizon and so scared she couldn’t move, she whispered, “What the hell is that?”

  “What?” he started but went silent when he saw what she referred too. Yes, the three shadows, the Genii Cucullati, rushed in their direction. Yes, the massive dark cloud that was the demi-god rushed in their direction. But that wasn’t what rendered them immobile.

  No, it was something far more sinister.

  A wave of jet black shrouded the horizon. A wave that simply ripped everything beyond from sight as it moved closer. It destroyed everything.

  “That, my kin,” Grant said. “Is hell itself.”

  “Balor,” Darach whispered.

  “Holy shit,” Jackie whispered.

  “Let’s go,” Grant roared. “Now!”

  Darach threw her over his shoulder and raced up the stairs two at a time. Terrified or not, she was impressed at how good he was on his feet considering the massive earthquake.

  What she didn’t expect to hear were so many familiar voices when Darach plopped her down in the great hall beside Grant. They stood in front of the massive mantel that she and Darach had created. Her eyes widened on the various faces in the rock.

  They were speaking…no, chanting.

  All of Darach’s cousins. His sister. Even his aunts and uncles. She peered closer. Was that Adlin? Iosbail?

  Grant started chanting as well.

  Miraculously enough, the earthquake ceased, and Eara trotted into the chamber seconds before the Genii Cucullati twisted in and shot towards Jackie. When Darach leapt in front of her and thrust up his hands, they smashed into an invisible wall.

  Then boom. Crash. The floor rocked.

  A deep suctioning sensation made her ears pop before the light became so bright she was momentarily blinded. Wind whipped around her as an all-too-familiar voice roared, “She’s mine!”

  When she was able to see again, the great hall was no longer dark but normal. Everyone she had seen in the mantle except Adlin and Iosbail were alive and well, and rushing to protect her. Jackie leaned against the side of the mantle as pain tore through her head.

  She knew what it was.

  The tumor.

  Better yet, the darkness behind it.

  Eoghan half manifested as he tore through the room with his minions in tow. Magic was thrown in all directions as the demi-god and Genii Cucullati battled against the MacLomains, MacLeods and Hamiltons.

  It was a fight for the ages.

  Weakened but still on her feet, Jackie blinked, amazed by what she saw.

  Movement in the Viking tapestry.

  “Jackie,” whispered through her mind.

  “King Naðr?” Her eyes widened. Who else could it be? Because that tapestry had come alive and the man at the Viking’s feet struggled beneath his blade.

  “Do you trust me, woman?”

  She had come to like the King very much. He’d been nothing but kind. “Of course, I do.”

  “Then go with Heidrek.”

  How many times would this request be asked of her in a lifetime? Twice was once too many.

  “But I love someone else,” she said.

  His eyes met hers. “Then trust me and go with Heidrek.”

  The fighting became more intense as magic whiplashed across the hall. Darach stayed in front of her the whole time, shifting air every which way to keep her safe. Her eyes shot to Heidrek
when he moved closer.

  She shook her head. “I can’t leave him.”

  Darach’s words entered her mind as he battled. “What’s happening, lass?”

  Heidrek put a finger to his lips and shook his head. “He cannae hear we Vikings unless we allow it.”

  “What’s going on?” she cried into his mind. “Why can’t you just tell me?”

  No sooner did she say it than pitch black filled the doorway and everyone’s magic seemed to compress into a mirage. Darach glanced over his shoulder, and his eyes narrowed on Heidrek as understanding dawned.

  Here they were.

  All over again.

  Her only chance of survival lay with Heidrek.

  There was no hesitation. No jealousy. Darach managed to roar two words before all hell broke loose.

  “Save her!”

  Heidrek threw her over his shoulder and raced toward the tapestry. Blackness swirled around the room, taking half the great hall with it before it rushed after them. But it seemed the Viking was faster as he leapt straight at the tapestry.

  Another boom erupted around her before everything slowed down and Heidrek dropped her to her feet. She had a split second to gain her balance before he cupped her cheeks and kissed her. As soon as it began, it ended.

  “Did you not tell Darach we kissed?” He winked. “Now there are no lies between you and your husband.”

  “Loki’s balls, Heidrek,” the Viking King exclaimed as he appeared beside them. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

  “Love is love, Uncle,” Heidrek muttered. “Just not mine to have this time.”

  She suddenly realized where they were.

  Inside the tapestry.

  “Are you ready, Nephew?” Naðr asked Heidrek.

  “More than ever.”

  The King laughed. “That’s my lad. Let’s end this once and for all.” Jackie’s eyes rounded as everyone vanished from the great hall a blink before the Genii Cucullati whipped over their head and into the tapestry. Heidrek scooped her up when blackness overtook everything and screams of rage echoed around her.

  The air went icy and numbness settled over her moments before fire erupted. Heidrek tossed her and she sailed through the air. Jackie screeched as she landed in Darach’s arms. His entire family was chanting and moving closer to the tapestry. When she looked back at it, she shook her head in denial.