by Susan King
James waited briefly, watching the clouds gather and darken. “Come ahead, love. We must go.” He turned. “Elspeth?”
She was not there, nor was she in the second cave when he looked there. “Elspeth!” His voice echoed against the walls.
Eilidh... He heard it clearly in the still air, an echo and yet not. Eilidh!
Elspeth turned, bonnet in hand, and saw them standing in the inner chamber. A man and two women, slim and tall and beautiful, watched her, standing by the entrance to the pocket mine. “Who—what—” she began.
They beckoned, all three together. Despite the darkness, she could see them easily. Their eyes were like shining jewels, their skin and garments pale and shining. She felt drawn forward. As they vanished down the ramp into the gem pocket—through the very wall—she followed.
Vaguely she realized that she was not walking on rock, but somehow drifting through the rock herself, like a wraith.
You can do this because you are fairy blood, one of them said without voice.
Who are you? She thought it only, and yet they heard.
We are your kin, they said, all in unison.
Then she knew.
Pausing, she summoned her will, made herself stop, look at them.
They stood in the jeweled cavern with her, and though it was not a large place, and she was not tall, the ceiling and walls seemed to expand. There was ample room.
One woman, flaxen-haired, had beautiful features touched with angles, almost harsh. Her eyes were the violet color of the amethysts sparkling in the walls. The man was tall, handsome, dark-haired, strangely familiar. The other woman was small, delicate, her long hair an ebony gloss, eyes sheened like silver and crystal.
“Niall,” she said, knowing this was he, her heart pounding, reminding her that she was flesh and blood. “Father.”
“Daughter, my own,” he said, reaching out. His hand was warm when she touched it. He was flesh and blood, too. “This is your mother, Riona.”
The dark-haired fairy woman stretched out her hands, and her eyes filled with tears. Elspeth felt herself enfolded in an embrace filled with love.
Curiously, she felt no fear, only a sense of wonder, of relief and perfect ease in their company. “Mother,” she said, saying the word she had never used for anyone. “Mother. And…Father.”
They smiled, and she felt genuine affection. Niall was still a young man, as if he had never aged, and his wife was inexpressibly beautiful. Then Niall gestured to the pale-haired woman with them.
“This is our queen,” he said. “Queen of the Fey in this region. There are many such queens and kings, and this part of the land is under her rule and in her thrall. We are hers.”
“Eilidh,” the queen said, holding out a hand, beringed, milky pale. Her golden braids were interwoven with gems and feathers. Her gown, cream and white, embroidered with sparkling threads, seemed to glow.
Elspeth stared, entranced by such beauty and dazzle. The queen seemed to sparkle, every bit of her, as if luminous from within. “Am I—did you steal me away?”
“We brought you here, and will take you further,” Niall answered.
“I will not go with you. I cannot,” she said, stepping backward.
Her fairy-mother lifted her hands, beckoned. “Stay with us, please, dear.”
“I will not.” She took another backward step. “I am married. I will stay with my husband. I truly love him, and I will not go with you.”
Her voice sounded odd, and all seemed strange, as if she were here, and yet not. She felt like a wraith, insubstantial, fragile. She took a breath, drew strength from determination. “I will never go with you.”
“Eilidh, please,” her father said, reaching out.
Elspeth!
She turned.
“Elspeth!” James had circled both inner and outer caves and had looked in the narrow passageway. “Where are you?”
Dropping to his knees at the entrance to the pocket mine, he peered inside. It was utterly dark and silent. Afraid she could have fallen in there if she had tried to fetch another crystal, he crawled through the threshold. “Elspeth!”
Then he heard her voice, strange and faraway. James.
“Where are you?” he called.
Here.
Alarmed, wondering if she had found some unseen crevice or new pocket, he crouched and made his way down the natural ramp. He groped in the darkness, feeling the walls sharp with crystal points, rough with basalt and granite. “Elspeth!” Again he heard her voice from somewhere.
Behind him in the little mine, a light flared. He whirled.
Elspeth was there, standing with three people. They were strangely clothed, as if out of some medieval play. Their eyes caught his attention first—great, large, radiant eyes in narrow faces, glittering like jewels. Elspeth’s eyes had a strange silvery sheen, as if reflecting a glowing light that was not there. In fact, all was darkness inside, and yet light emanated from the three strangers.
“Elspeth—” he moved toward her, reaching out. What had happened to the low ceiling, he wondered vaguely, for he was standing to his full height. Lifting his arms, she ran to him, tucked her head against his chest as they turned to look at the others. He held her protectively, looking past her at the three, eerie and quiet, who watched them calmly. His heart was pounding.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“James,” Elspeth said. “This is—the queen, and this is my mother. And this is Niall MacArthur.”
Astonished—had he hit his head, or had the little bit of whisky been far stronger than he thought?—he nodded. Niall extended his hand, and James grasped it, finding it strong, firm, very human, despite the unearthly light in the man’s eyes.
The dark-haired woman—Elspeth’s mother—reached out to take his hand next, her fingers slim, cool. He was holding the hand of a fairy, James thought.
Surely he had fallen and broken his head. This could not be real.
“Elspeth,” he said cautiously, stepping back with her. “We must go. Our friends will be looking for us. Donal MacArthur will be worried,” he added, gazing at Niall.
“Donal,” his son said. “We will see him soon, when he visits next, for the seven years are nearly up again.”
“But the fairy spell is undone now,” Elspeth said. “Love dissolves it. Grandda told me what you said to him. Love’s magic is strong enough to break any spell.” She faced them, keeping an arm around James, while he kept her close. “I love this man. Your hold over me is no more, if it ever was.”
“Very well,” the queen said imperiously. “We do not have the power to take you with us now unless you agree. You have discovered that. But we will call Donal back to us again, and he may decide to stay.”
“He can stay with us,” Elspeth said. “He has that right now.”
“True.” Her father was handsome, regal, James noticed, and he saw a resemblance to Donal in features and in sheer pride. “Eilidh, we owe you a great deal. Both of you.”
“Owe us?” she asked.
“The treasure has been found. This treasure room.” He lifted a hand. “Now we can enter this place again. Long ago the Fey mined the riches and magic here. You found what our kind could no longer see, after the treachery of the old thief who hid it away. We thank you both for that.”
James inclined his head politely, although logic still insisted that this could not be real. He stretched out a hand, touched Niall MacArthur on the shoulder, felt solid muscle there.
Niall smiled. “I am here. I am human. It is magic that maintains me.”
“How are you here, how am I seeing you?” James asked.
Niall gathered his fairy-wife under his arm, the same way that James held Elspeth close. “When you allow your thinking to open, when you accept what seemed impossible, then everything becomes possible. Magic exists.”
“This must be an illusion—the whisky we drank, Elspeth—it must have been the fairy brew.”
“It is not that, James MacCarran,�
� the queen said then. “You have fairy blood.”
He looked at her, a shining, gorgeous, ageless creature. “That has been the tradition in my family, but it is just a legend.”
“Legends are born from truth. That fairy blood is why you see us now. It is not the whisky alone. The drink is simply in harmony with your ancestry.”
He sought back in his mind again, wondering if all this was due to the wild Highland brew after all. Yet he knew, just knew, that this was real.
“Both of you, take my hands.” The queen reached out. “Do not be afraid.”
“We do not want to go into your land,” Elspeth said quickly.
“Since you want to go, we will show you the way out,” Niall said.
“The way out is through that opening that leads to the outer cave,” James said.
“It is dark and the mountain is dangerous,” the queen said. “We will show you another way.”
“I give you my word no harm will come to you,” Niall said. “No spell will touch you. We will take you through our world and bring you out again. My word on it.”
“A moment in there is a day here,” James said, remembering his grandmother’s writings. “A day is more than a year.”
“Only if we cast a glamourie over you. Only if you eat or drink or partake of anything in our world,” the queen said.
“Be careful, and you will be safe,” Niall said, “and you will see what few ever see. Come, daughter. And my son—my daughter’s husband.” He beckoned.
James felt the queen’s outstretched hand touch his, cool and light. Beside him, he tightened his arm around Elspeth in one arm, protectively.
When Riona reached out, Elspeth took her mother’s hand and began to move forward with them. James went too. The air went to mist and light, and he felt himself moving—and together they all stepped into and through the glittering, gem-studded wall of rock as if it were a shimmering curtain.
Looking around, stunned, he saw the golden-colored stone, like sandstone, carved into pillars and sweeping arches that stretched to vaulted ceilings, forming lining a long corridor. Walking beside Elspeth, following the three, he looked around at a wonderland of subterranean passages, gently and luminously lit, tunneling into the heart of the earth. Awestruck, he simply stared.
And realized then that he did not need a cane. He was not limping, and his step was strong and stable.
A moment later, the queen lifted a hand in simple, silent farewell, and slipped away into a room whose wide doors opened for her. Taking Elspeth’s hand, James followed Niall and his fairy wife along the sloping, curved corridor toward a blaze of light ahead. He heard carillons of laughter, the strumming of harps, a steady drumbeat, voices raised in song, and the skirl of pipes.
Niall turned. “Do not cross any threshold here. Follow us only. You will see food and drink, but do not partake. Speak to no one but us.” He waved them onward.
He saw many doors in the long, endless hallway, some open, and James peered inside as he passed. The interiors gleamed with light and crystal, with gorgeous fabrics and polished furnishings. He saw no other people—or the Fey—though he heard voices.
Small tables in the hallway held dishes filled with fruits, small cakes, bread, cheese. Wine trickled from golden fountains into crystal goblets. James felt intensely thirsty, wished he could drink. Hungry, he wanted to pluck grapes from a silver bowl. Remembering Niall’s warning, he moved on.
A dream, he told himself. Surely this was.
The tunnel split then into three corridors, each path a channel into the heart of the earth. To the right, he saw a lofty room filled with light, music, laughter. To the left, the corridor walls flickered with a reflection of fire, and he heard the sound of a hammer upon metal, as if from a forge. The center pathway was dim and went straight ahead. Niall led them along its course.
Now the tunnel walls glittered with the flash-fire colors of gems and crystals, like the pocket mine far behind them. He saw the tracery of veins of gold, silver, ruby, emerald, sapphire. He touched his hand to the wall as they passed, and his fingertips came away with sparkling dust.
“Do not,” Niall reminded him. They walked on.
The floor sloped upward, and they followed its ramp. Even after the strenuous day and this long walk, his leg did not hurt at all. He walked with ease.
He glanced at Elspeth, who set her arm about his waist as they walked. Ahead, he saw light, a cave-like opening, then trees and sky beyond.
Niall stopped. “Here we will leave you. Return to your world. We have no hold over you now. Instead, we are forever in your debt.”
“Father!” Elspeth went into Niall’s arms. He held her for a long moment. Then she turned to her mother, their delicate faces and shining dark hair so much alike. James swallowed hard, watching, realizing she might never see her parents again. Strange as all this seemed, he was beginning to accept it as reality.
Elspeth stepped back, cheeks wet with tears, and Niall turned to clasp James’s hand. “Take care of her. She is precious to us.”
“To me as well,” James replied.
“You will bring much joy to each other and your families. Happiness and children and riches will bless you both. We will do our best to see to it, in gratitude.” Niall touched his daughter’s shoulder. “Eilidh, you were born to be with this man, not with us. His grandmother was right.”
“My grandmother?” James asked in surprise, as Elspeth stared at her father.
Niall nodded. “Riona and I felt from the moment you were born that your destiny was one of love and responsibility to the Struan family.”
Elspeth drew a quick breath. “But Grandda always said you would take me away to your world when I turned twenty-one.”
“If you never found love,” he amended. “We gave you to your grandfather to raise to make sure that you two found each other.” He smiled.
“But the night we saw you riding, I thought you meant to steal me away then.”
“It was not time yet, and when we saw that you were with your destined love, we knew we must let you be. Lord Struan, you have a strong soul, firmly bound to the earth. We knew you would not have understood if we had appeared to you.”
James smiled wryly. “If you had taken her, I would have gone after her wherever she was, whether I believed in all of this or not.”
“You went after her today, to keep her safe.” Niall smiled at Elspeth. “Your grandfather loves you dearly and has always protected you. He knew we could bring you back here if we so desired. But he did not know the rest of it—that your destiny was always intertwined with the young Lord Struan.”
“My grandmother,” James said suddenly. “Did you know her? She kept your painting over the mantel. It was important to her.”
“I knew her. A great lady, very kind,” Niall replied. “We met before I went over to the Fey, out in the hills, while I was painting one day, and became friends. She was interested in local fairy legends, and I told her what I knew, and introduced her to my father. She mentioned you, James. A boy, then. A twin, she said, and such an intelligent child. She was so proud of you, and wanted you to be happy, after the loss of your parents. Lady Struan would be pleased that our plan turned out so well.”
“Your plan?” Elspeth asked.
“Lady Struan confided in me that her little grandson was too serious, and deeply hurt by his parents’ deaths. She feared he would never recover from those wounds, but knew he deserved joy in life. And his siblings, the same. They were all hurt and confused, being so young. She cared so much for all of you.”
James felt a prickle of tears, a tightening in his throat. His grandmother, stern as she was, had truly loved him and his siblings. “What more did she tell you?”
“She was fascinated by fairy legends, and she wanted to find a way to renew the fairy blood in the MacCarran line, hopefully through grandchildren.”
“Did she ever speak—of her will?” James asked.
“Only a mention. She wanted her orphane
d grandchildren to be happy, and to have some adventure that would change their lives for the better.”
James smiled wryly. “She chose an odd way to go about it.”
“After I had gone over to the Fey to be with Riona, I saw her in the hills once. And she saw me. The fairy blood,” he said, “showed itself in your grandmother.”
“I am not surprised.”
“I had a newborn daughter, and I wanted her to have the best possible life. Lady Struan suggested a match between my daughter and her eldest grandson, older then but still a boy. We did not scheme, exactly. We only wished it could be so.”
“And the wishing made it real?” Elspeth asked, listening with wide eyes.
“Riona and I, feeling the strong tie with Struan lands and the family of Lady Struan, decided to give you to my father to raise—in the hope that you and the new Lord Struan would indeed meet and feel the pull of love and fate. Your mother and I watched you grow from afar,” Niall told her gently.
Seeing the sheen of tears in her eyes, James touched her shoulder. He shook his head a little, trying his best to take all of this in. But Niall was right. He had to accept and allow, let the magic be what it was, without analyzing it.
“So my grandmother wanted me to marry Elspeth?” he asked.
“She did. She hoped so. I believe she spoke to my father about it, but he thought Lord Struan too high a catch for his girl. He wanted her in the Lowlands, not nearby, as you know.”
James huffed in astonishment. “What of my siblings, did she say?”
“Lady Struan wanted them to each have a chance to find a special love as well. So she could to arrange it.”
“Love makes its own magic,” James murmured. “The motto of the MacCarrans.”
“Aye. She hoped it would prove true. But there is no guarantee of the outcome. There never is, when human free will meets fairy magic. What happened between you two was up to you, not us.”
“What of the treasure?” Elspeth asked. “Grandda insisted it must be found.”
“That,” Niall said, “could have changed everything.”
