“Where found you this lass?” Mael demanded, as he appeared on the archer’s left. The largest of the Mag Raith, and the clan’s seneschal, he had greenery stains on his hands, and smelled of the herbs he’d been sorting in the kitchens.
“She’s bleeding,” Jenna said as she reached them. “What happened to her?” The chieftain’s mate wore her hair short, but only because the overuse of her wraith power had nearly burned it off. “Did the maze grab her, too?”
Broden appeared across from Edane, his stunning features harsh until he saw Nellie’s face. Relief tinged with regret flickered over his features.
“’Tis no’ my lady,” he murmured to the falconer beside him.
“Then more still to come,” Kiaran said. His kestrel, Dive, flew in to land on the falconer’s shoulder, where she squawked so loudly she drowned out whatever he said in response.
“Please be quiet, all of you,” Rosealise Dashlock said, and quickly applied the clean cloth in her hand to the lady’s battered brow. The clan’s housekeeper was always practical. “What can we do to help, Edane?”
“She needs warming while I tend to her injury.” He glanced toward the kitchens. “Would you fetch my wound box, my lady?”
As Rosealise nodded and hurried away, Domnall took off his tartan and spread it over the fur before the fire. As Edane carried Nellie over and knelt beside him, the chieftain said, “I but jested about hunting lasses, Brother.”
“’Twas another hunting her, Chieftain.” As he lowered her limp body onto the plaid, he told Domnall of the demon he’d spied chasing the lady. “After I shot the Sluath, he flew back into the storm and vanished. I thought her a lad at first, until I drew closer. She sounds like you, Jenna, but she doesnae speak the same words. She calls herself Nellie Quinn.”
He looked up to scan the faces of his clan, but no one appeared to recognize the name.
“Kiaran, Broden, patrol for the wounded demon,” the chieftain ordered as he arranged the wet plaid over Nellie’s torso to better cover her. “Mael, bring more wood to build up the fire. Jenna–”
“Dry blanket and bandages, got it.” His wife gave the unconscious woman one more worried look before hurrying away.
Rosealise returned with the box of medicinal herbs and tinctures Edane kept in the pantry. She brushed back a tendril of curly blonde hair that had escaped her crown of braids before she took a bottle of whiskey from under her arm and uncorked it.
“Did the demon do this to her?” she murmured, as she handed it to him and frowned at Nellie’s pale face.
“No,” Edane replied. “When I brought her into the keepe she panicked. Mayhap she saw something that frightened her. She then ran into the wall.” He nodded toward the spot as he used the spirit to clean the abrasion. “It fashes me. I didnae startle her, and before we came in, she seemed happy and at ease.” He glanced at Domnall. “Although no’ greatly impressed with our stronghold.”
“Nor I when first we arrived.” The chieftain eyed both of her arms and legs. “She’s marked?”
“Aye. I found Sluath ink on the back of her neck.” Edane reached under her short curls to indicate the spot, and felt another flash of heat along his arm. “’Tis but a wee band of it.” That it didn’t match his own skinwork made him wonder again if he was imagining the sensation.
Jenna returned with a soft wool coverlet and some of the old linens they used for bandaging. “She’s pretty small, but Rosealise and I can alter one of my gowns for her to wear once she’s awake,” she told Edane. “You said she used strange words?”
“Many.” He removed his wet tartan and covered Nellie with the fresh wool, tucking it in around her. “She first said to me, ‘Thanks for drilling that goon. Thought for a minute there I was headed for the big sleep.’”
The chieftain’s wife sighed. “Oh, yeah, she’s one of my people.” She studied Nellie again. “Not from my time, though, unless she’s an actress in a period piece.”
“She has such a short coiffure,” the Englishwoman said, gently brushing back the short fringe of golden-brown hair on Nellie’s brow. “It’s as if she were attempting to pass as a boy.”
“Believe it or not,” Jenna said, “ladies are allowed to cut off their hair in the future. What else did she say, Edane?” Once he repeated a few more of Nellie’s remarks, Jenna’s face lit up. “You know, she might be from the roaring twenties. Girls in that era used a lot of slang, and wore their hair short. They were called flappers.”
“Surely not,” the housekeeper said, looking alarmed. “In my time that word meant a poor young girl trained and used for purposes of vice.”
“Not on my side of the Atlantic. Our flappers were more like fun-loving rebels. The first wave of women’s liberation, really.” The chieftain’s wife chuckled. “If she is from that era, then the Sluath grabbed her a hundred years before my time, and forty after yours, Rosealise. Getting to know The Great Gatsby here is going to be interesting.”
Domnall frowned at her. “Didnae Nellie appear in your memories of the other ladies from the underworld?”
His wife thought for a moment, regarding the lass as she did. “No. I’ve never seen her before today, and why didn’t she show up here, at Dun Chaill? According to my vision, this is where we were all supposed to go after the escape.”
Edane saw the doubt growing in their expressions. “She’s no’ Sluath. She bleeds red, and the demon chased her as prey. He meant to claim her as a prize for their prince.”
“Perhaps more slaves escaped by the sky bridge after we departed,” Rosealise suggested. “We should expect she will regain some memories, as Jenna and I have, and then tell us what occurred.”
“Aye,” the chieftain said, looking thoughtful. “Yet until she does, Edane shall take charge of her.”
* * *
The scent of something smoky and sweet tickled Nellie’s nose, growing stronger as she rolled over. Being there felt as good as being wrapped in sun-warmed rose petals, but flowers didn’t crackle. She opened one eye to see the gentle flickering of a fire across from her, framed by rough stone.
She didn’t know why, but the golden-orange colors of the flames made her let out the breath she was holding.
Her arms trembled as she propped herself upright. A dull ache pounded just above her eyes. Under the blanket she was naked, but snug and dry. She didn’t see any bruises or bleeding holes… Why would she think of that?
Cut it out. I’m alive, and that’s all the matters.
She hadn’t come to any swank joint, that was for sure. As Nellie glanced around the room everything appeared old, worn, or cobbled together. A half-burned candle provided the only light, but it showed her archer’s bows of different sizes stacked in a corner. A quiver sewn of hide and bark hung from a peg hammered between the wall stones. The only other furnishings appeared to be a chest made of wood, a stool, and a small table that held the candle, a comb, and some coiled leather strips.
No hooch bottles.
Nellie felt relieved, although that seemed strange, too. She could sure use a drink right now, after…
In an instant everything came back to her. Falling naked into the pasture, being chased by the demon, Edane coming to her rescue, and then the ride on the flying horse. He’d brought her to his place.
Looking at the ancient walls made her remember the horrid thing that had come out at her. Goosebumps rose on her skin as she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and tried not to shake. She’d tried to run from it, and then conked herself out. The monster hadn’t been real.
She took in a deep breath, let it out, and opened her eyes.
No one else occupied the dismal room, so Edane must have put her here to sleep. She guessed from the Robin Hood gear that it belonged to him. She could smell that simmering honey scent of him all over the bed now, and almost felt him, too, as if he stood hidden somewhere in the shadows. That feeling of his unseen presence spread over her, and made her want to call out his name. She felt safe with him…but not here
.
What if it’s all fake?
She had a notion that she’d been someplace like this before now. From the way her stomach surged at the thought it hadn’t been anywhere good.
Nellie eyed the door as she climbed out of the bed and wrapped the blanket around her bare body. Her headache grew instantly worse, but when she gingerly felt her brow, she found only a bad scrape over a small lump. That and a twinge of soreness in her neck seemed to be all she’d gotten from the conk. Then her fingers started to itch.
Touch something.
Grimacing, she tiptoed over to the bows. Reaching out, she took the one that looked the sturdiest. The highly-polished wood felt like glass under her shaking fingers. If nothing else she could clobber someone with it and–
The room went away and huge trees shot up around Nellie. Ferns sprouted all around her feet, and patches of sunlight warmed her face and shoulders. The forest looked huge, and very old, but she felt certain that she’d never before seen the place.
You’re a beauty.
She froze as she heard Edane’s voice, and turned toward it. He stood a short distance from her, and chopped at a slender tree with a funny-looking hatchet. The sunlight blazed over his long scarlet hair, some of which he’d woven into thin, tight braids. He cut down the tree with just a few more strokes, then picked it up and balanced the wood across the back of his shoulders, curling his hands around the trunk on either side.
“What are you doing?” Nellie asked him. “Where are we?”
He didn’t look at her or react to the sound of her voice. When she reached out to touch him, her hand passed through his arm as if it were just a moving picture.
Just like the monster.
He bent to pick up his ax and walked off. She followed him back to a rough-looking cottage with a thatched roof. He put down the wood, stripped to his waist and poured a bucket of water over his head. The tattoos on his arm made Nellie’s throat tighten with fear. She’d seen those before, too, in the place that made her want to puke.
What if he’s like that thing that was chasing me?
Four more men came, and with Edane they went inside the cottage. Nellie took her hand from the bow and started to follow them.
The forest vanished in the next moment, and she stood in Edane’s room again.
Confused, Nellie stepped back from the bows. She sat down on the stool, bracing her hands against the table.
Edane appeared beside her, a blade flashing in his hand as he carved thin notches in the end of an arrow. His hair now hung much longer around his face. She watched as he set the knife aside and carefully inserted feathers in the shaft. A knock sounded, and a much bigger man looked in.
’Tis a storm approaching. The chieftain wants the boundary patrolled.
Edane nodded. I’ll ride out.
Nellie jerked her hands away from the table, and the men vanished. She stared at her palms, and then at the table and the bow. Everything she touched made her see something that wasn’t real.
She stood to back away from the table, making her forehead throb. Her hand shook as she gingerly touched the wound.
Ah, but you’ve been a very bad girl, haven’t you? Something with copper eyes and claws gazed at her from the darkness in her head. And a touch-reader. Born with your talent, too. That makes you worth taking.
A streak of fresh pain blazed through her temple, and Nellie stumbled over to the bed and sat. For a long time, she held her head in her hands until most of the pain eased away. She glanced around the room, taking in every object.
I have to know.
It took all her nerve to rise again and go to the quiver, where she rested her hand against the laced hide.
Through that touch she watched Edane scraping and sewing the hide and bark together in another place. This time she kept her hand against it as she watched him and four other men with a bunch of people in robes who lived in a big forest. She learned that the people, who called themselves dru-wids and Moss Dapple, were not everyday plugs. A tall, shifty-looking dru-wid, who bossed everyone around, used Edane and the other men like guards for the tribe.
Galan Aedth. Just watching him made Nellie shudder. He was big trouble.
As she watched and listened to the men, she learned the names of the other four: Domnall, Mael, Broden, and Kiaran. They weren’t happy working for Galan, but they never quit guarding the tribe. Edane sometimes bickered with Broden, the pretty boy of the bunch, but only because Broden ragged on him constantly.
Nellie wanted to sock the trapper right in the kisser for being such a jerk to her fella.
Domnall and Galan started having regular beefs, particularly when a big guy who looked like the dru-wid showed up with a curvy, dark-haired gal. Galan shot the lady with an arrow just before she and the big guy disappeared into a hole in the ground.
What a goon.
Nellie wondered if Edane knew just how rotten Galan truly was. She could practically smell the stink of bad rolling off him.
Things got stranger when Domnall and his men found a dark-haired woman naked in an ash grove: Jenna Cameron. He and his guys treated her like a prisoner first, and then banded together to protect her against Galan. After an ugly brawl with the big dru-wid over Jenna, Edane and his pals left the tribe and the forest. On the journey, they were attacked by a horde of the winged demons.
Sluath.
Seeing the demons made Nellie’s chest fill with jumpy rocks. Oh, yeah, she knew those guys. She couldn’t remember from where, but they made her want to dig a hole and plant herself in it for good.
Edane and the Mag Raith had managed to dodge the demons, and then came to the dump they called Dun Chaill, where they decided to live. They’d had more troubles, and Jenna had been killed by a demon who threw lightning at her. Later she’d come back to life inside the castle.
Nellie sucked in a breath.
Maybe Jenna hadn’t been dead at all. Maybe she’s like the demons now.
Edane and the guys started rebuilding Dun Chaill. Later another woman with long pale curls and a fancy accent had fallen out of the sky into their garden. Rosealise Dashlock. Nellie held onto the quiver until she had seen all the crazy things that had happened to Rosealise and Mael, and how they had fallen in love.
The moving picture ended with Edane leaving to patrol the boundary. That must have been just a few hours ago, because he’d still been wearing the same old beat-up clothes when he’d found her.
That’s been his life since he fell from the sky…like me.
Nellie’s knees shook, and without thinking she braced a hand against the wall. She saw the monster again, only this time she could tell it was male. It didn’t look like a human or a demon. The scars and distortion of his body and face made it clear that he’d been in some kind of terrible accident. The wall shrank to half its size as she watched him limp past her, his back bowed over the big rock he lugged. He talked to himself in a language she didn’t understand, and worked at building the wall until his hands grew bloody. He stopped only long enough to wrap his twisted fingers before he went back to work.
When Nellie had seen him build the entire room, she let her hand fall to her side.
She felt numb as she went back to the bed to huddle under the blanket. Her head throbbed, packed with all that she now knew about Edane and his clan and the monster that had built this dump. She blinked hard to keep from bawling, because she knew something else: the castle wasn’t meant to be a home.
Dun Chaill had been built by the monster to kill.
So why were Edane and his clan living here? Didn’t they realize how dangerous a place it was?
The door creaked open, making her instinctively close her eyes to feign sleep. Through her lashes she saw Edane slip inside with a tray tucked against his side. Over his shoulder he’d draped some kind of baggy dress. The scent of hot oatmeal and honey warmed her nose, but she waited until he came to the bed before she pretended to wake and looked up at him.
Nellie knew she couldn’t
get attached to him—at least not shacked up in this nightmare of a place—but still seeing him made her heart do the tango.
“Some of that for me?”
“’Tis all yours, my lady.” He set the tray on the table and tossed the dress by her feet before he inspected her brow. “How’s the head?”
“Like a pug in the tenth.” She sat up, eyeing the food and wondering how she was going to get it past the fist-size lump in her throat. Then she saw his puzzled expression, one she’d seen before. He can’t understand me. Of course, he can’t. He’s not American. “I mean it’s sore, but I’ll be all right. Say, I didn’t mean to, ah, knock myself out like that. I got spooked by the place.”
“You’ve endured much this day.” Edane perched on the edge of the bed. “Forgive me for no’ keeping you safe.”
Nellie had to know one more thing. “You did swell.” She touched his cheek, and kept her hand there until she was sure. “I’ll try to talk plainer, see, so you can get my meaning.”
“I’d be grateful,” Edane said, his gorgeous eyes lighting up.
Giving him a little smile, Nellie thought quickly. She couldn’t read him like the quiver or the bow or the walls, so that meant her touch would only read the past from things, not people. She removed her hand and tried to offer him a smile.
Sweet as Edane was, she couldn’t stick around for the monster’s flim-flam. Nellie couldn’t remember what had dropped her in the middle of Scotland, but she knew she was in trouble here, so the what didn’t matter.
She just had to get out of this place.
“There’s much I must tell you,” Edane said, and offered her a wooden cup filled with water. “’Twill seem mad, and impossible, but I vow to you, ’tis all truth.”
“I’m all ears, honey bunny.” Nellie took a sip and finally worked up a broad smile. “Hop to it.”
Edane: Immortal Highlander, Clan Mag Raith Book 3 Page 2
