by Mariah Stone
His nostrils flared. “Never. Nae land nor inheritance will make me want to be related to the man who tried to harm ye.”
The weight of a boulder lifted off Marjorie’s chest. She beamed. “Oh, thank Jesu.”
He frowned and looked at his shoes, thinking. “Mother, I’ve never been anywhere other than Glenkeld in my life.” He looked around the woods longingly. “And I really want to.”
He glanced at Isbeil and sighed. “I’d be sad to never see my grandda and uncles. But I’d be sadder to see ye the way ye’ve been since Konnor left.”
Oh, her kind, brave, loving boy.
His eyes shone. “And I really want to see the carriages that drive themselves and the giant iron dragons that fly in the air…”
Her vision blurred with tears. “Are ye certain? Ye want to go?”
He nodded, a fervent smile on his face. “Aye. I want to play soccer with Konnor.”
Chapter 32
Five days later…
What the hell was Marjorie supposed to do with this godforsaken rock? It lay flat and round and as large as the seat of the great chair in the great hall. The carving of three wavy circles lay and a thick, straight line piercing it brought a nervous shiver through her. By its side was an imprint of a large hand, right in the stone. It looked like someone had pressed their hand in clay, and it had dried up this way.
Marjorie was no Isbeil, but even she felt something—like the waver in the air over rocks in direct sunlight on a hot day—except today was as gray and as cold as this rock.
Marjorie looked back at Colin who held the Ticker clenched in his fist and studied the rock with a frown. He had a shoulder pouch thrown over his shoulder with only a few valuable possessions: a few silver coins, enough to buy passage as far as China—the farthest destination Marjorie could think of—an antler comb, a waterskin with water, clean linen cloths, as well as several jars with healing potions and herbs. There was also a rope for making rabbit snares, a meat pie, cheese, bread, and bannock for the few days on the road. Marjorie had grandfather’s sword in the sheath behind her back for when Colin would be grown enough to be able to wield it, as well as her bow and a quiver full of arrows. She was dressed in her leather breeches, perfect for a long way. A woolen cloak hung from her shoulders, for the nights they’d need to sleep outside in the woods. She wondered how long it would take to find Konnor—a few moons? A year? Perhaps, more. They had to be ready for everything. Colin had Marjorie’s dagger on his belt next to his wooden sword.
She’d said goodbye to the whole castle, explaining to them Konnor had proposed to her and they were going to be with him. The shock Marjorie saw in the people’s eyes was overwhelming. Malcolm said she was clearly out of her mind and threatened to lock her in her room until her father came back. Muir said he’d come with her. Marjorie cried for a while over Tamhas’s grave, and somehow, she felt supported and blessed after.
The whole clan was in turmoil, staring at her as though she’d lost her mind. Isbeil was the only one who actually looked at her as though she was sane, and she calmed the people down.
Marjorie considered going to Inverlochy first to see if her clan was there and to say goodbye, or if she should wait for them to return from the war. But she was sure that if she did, they’d never let her go. Her father was very capable of locking her in her room until she came back to her senses.
So no matter how much it hurt to possibly never seeing them again, to not be able to say goodbye, it was the best thing to do. But she did write long letters to Craig, Domhnall, Owen, and to her father. She only told the truth about time travel to Craig. He had watched over her all her life and rescued her from Alasdair. She owed him the truth, whether he would believe it or not. He’d probably think she’d lost her mind, but by the time he read the letter, she’d hopefully be long gone. Colin dictated her his own goodbye to everyone.
With that done, and Glenkeld left under Malcolm’s careful supervision, Marjorie, with Colin by her side, went through the woods with her stomach squeezing in anxiety. She was afraid both that the rock would work, and that it wouldn’t.
And now that they were here, she had no idea what to do.
“Mayhap ye put yer hand in the handprint?” Colin said, hugging himself.
“But what if I go and ye dinna?”
“Then mayhap ye take my hand?”
Marjorie nodded and sighed. She took Colin’s palm in hers. His was warm and solid, hers was cold and shaking. She looked into his eyes. “Ready?”
“Aye.”
She released a long, audible breath. “Godspeed.”
“Wait,” a female voice said behind her, and the scent of lavender and grass reached her nose.
Colin and Marjorie both turned their heads. A woman in a dark-green, hooded cloak stood nearby, copper hair cascading in perfect waves down her shoulders and on her chest. She came closer, her eyes studying both Marjorie and Colin with bewilderment.
Marjorie stood up and pulled Colin behind her back, her hand on the hilt of her sword. The woman may be a faerie or a queen, but until Marjorie was sure she meant no harm to her son, she wouldn’t be calm.
“I’m Sìneag.” The woman smiled. “No need to be afraid, Marjorie.”
“I’m not afraid,” Marjorie said. How did she know her name? Knowing everyone’s names must be among the faerie’s magical abilities besides time travel.
She glanced at the rock, and her face gained a sly satisfaction. “Were ye trying to go through time? To Konnor?”
Marjorie raised her head. “Aye. We were.”
“Usually ‘tis just one person.”
“Usually?
Sìneag laughed. “Aye, ye dinna think ye’re the only one this has happened to, do ye?”
“I did.”
Sìneag shook her head. “Nae. ‘Tis what I do. I match people through time. Yer brother Craig and Amy. I hope ye and Konnor… Who kens how much happiness through time I can create?” Her voice rang with excitement.
Marjorie’s mouth opened. So she was right about her sister-in-law’s accent and some of the words she used, that she sounded like Konnor. Marjorie hadn’t spoken with her long when they gathered the family in Inverlochy, but she remembered an odd feeling about the woman. Why would Craig not have told her? Maybe for the same reason she hadn’t wanted anyone to know about Konnor’s real origin. She wouldn’t have believed Craig. She was glad she’d decided to tell him the truth in her letter, after all. He was probably the only one who’d believe her.
“Ye too, lad?” Sìneag said.
Marjorie looked back at Colin, and he stared at Sìneag with an open mouth and eyes full of wonder.
“Aye.” He stepped from behind Marjorie’s back. “We both.”
Sìneag sighed and pressed her mouth mournfully. “Oh, lad, ‘tis wonderful that ye want to travel in time, too. But ‘tis nae possible.”
“What? Why?” Colin said, the wonder in his face replaced by disappointment mixed with anger.
“Because the tunnel of time can be opened only three times for a couple. Those are the faerie rules.”
“He’s part of the couple,” Marjorie said. “I’m nae going anywhere without him.”
Sìneag pressed her lips together, thinking. “Aye. A good mother wouldna leave her child behind, but the two of ye just isna possible.”
“Can ye make an exception?” Marjorie said, something inside of her shaking with worry.
Sìneag mournfully tilted her head to the side and bit her lip.
Colin said, “In one of Isbeil’s stories, the faerie asked for a sacrifice. All I have is Arthur, my sword.”
“Do ye love it dearly?” Sìneag said.
“Aye. ‘Tis like my great-grandfather’s sword. ‘Tis all I have until I can wield a great claymore like my grandfather’s.”
“Aye. I can accept it.”
Colin’s hand shot to the hilt of his wooden sword. “Arthur…” he whispered. He looked down at the sword and swallowed. “Grandfather made it f
or me. Uncle Owen suggested the name and trained me with it for the first time.”
Marjorie’s heart bled for him. It was probably like leaving a part of his childhood behind. Colin took a deep breath, pursed his lips in a mournful grimace, and gave a curt, decisive nod. He took the sword and carried it in front of him ceremoniously.
“I sacrifice ye, Arthur, for passage to the future.”
He came to stand in front of Sìneag, who watched him with big eyes that watered a little. She took the sword from his hands and held it before her like treasure.
“I will treasure it and keep it safe,” Sìneag said, and it disappeared in her hands. Marjorie gasped. Colin blinked several times and looked at Sìneag with reverence.
“Yer sacrifice is accepted, lad,” she said. “But before ye may go, I need something else.” She smacked her lips a little like a hungry babe. “Traditionally, milk is left for faeries overnight. But I’ll take any food ye have. I’m a wee bit of a glutton.” She giggled. “Consider it a bribe.”
Marjorie chuckled. “What’s a piece of pie for the lifetime of happiness? Colin, please give Sìneag the meat pie.”
Sìneag clapped her hands, and Colin went into his purse and retrieved a piece of pie wrapped in linen. Sìneag quickly unwrapped it and bit into it. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, chewing.
“Mmmm. Ye mortals dinna ken how good yer food is.”
Marjorie and Colin exchanged a surprised glance and watched her devour the pie in three large gulps. For a seemingly delicate woman, Sìneag ate like a blacksmith after a long day of work.
Finally, a satisfied smile bloomed on her face. Her cheeks looked rosier than before, her lips red. “Aye, that will do, my lovelies. Now ye both may go. But remember, this will be the last time, so think carefully. Ye may still stay.”
Marjorie and Colin looked at each other. “We go,” Marjorie said to Sìneag.
“Good. Then hold hands. Marjorie, think of Konnor and place yer hand in the handprint.”
Marjorie took Colin’s hand and sank to her knees by the rock. She closed her eyes and thought of Konnor, and her whole being felt like she was flying. Joy shone through every little part of her body, radiating warmth and love through her heart. She placed her hand in the handprint, but instead of a cold rock, there was empty air. And suddenly she was falling, face down into waves of pure vibration. She waved her other hand, searching for Colin but not finding him.
With the thought of him and Konnor, she sank into darkness.
She didn’t know how much time passed. It felt like a lifetime later, or mayhap it was just a moment. Marjorie opened her eyes. The painful sensation of being sucked into something and then falling through eternity was dissolving in her body like blood in water.
She wasn’t falling anymore. Hard ground supported her. Her palms leaned on soft grass, and pebbles stuck into her skin. She looked around. There was the ruin and the Pictish rock. The brook burbled nearby. Familiar steep slopes stood on both sides of the crevice.
Colin! She looked around, and there he was, sitting staring at her with an astonished face.
“Are ye whole, lad?” she said.
“Aye.” He stood and looked around. She did the same.
Were they really in the future now? How could Marjorie tell? The woods looked the same. It sounded the same. There was the peaceful chirping of birds, rustling of leaves, and babbling of the water.
The pouch with silver and other things was still on Colin. They needed to be prepared in case the people from the future wanted to take her silver or harm them. Obviously, there were men with bad intentions in all times. Marjorie stood and drew her sword, feeling much less confident than she was trying to look. What was that? She looked around.
Someone moved up the slope between the trees. Alarmed, she put her sword back in the sheath, took her bow and an arrow, and aimed at the figure behind the trees. Her heart drummed in her ears. She followed the dark figure with her arrow pointed at them. Then the bushes moved, and a man stepped out from behind them, his brown hair catching the light, a travel pack on his broad shoulders.
Konnor.
A hot, happy wave rushed through Marjorie. Time stopped. So did her heart. Nothing existed except for the man who was more dear to her than life itself. He stared at her, as still as time was.
“Marjorie?” he said finally. “Is that really you?”
His voice. His dear raspy voice sounded better than the song of the best bard.
“Aye, ‘tis me,” she said and lowered her bow.
“And Colin?” he said.
“Aye!” Colin came to stand next to Marjorie.
Konnor scratched his head. “How did I travel back to you without touching the rock?”
“We traveled to ye,” Marjorie said.
She looked back at Sìneag, but there was no one where the woman had stood. The scent of lavender and freshly cut grass was gone as well.
“You traveled to me?” He shook his head in astonishment.
Marjorie put her bow on her shoulder and her arrow in the quiver. Her hands shook, and her knees wobbled. “Aye, we did. And now it seems there’s just this slope that separates us.”
“Stay there. I’ll help you up.” Konnor removed the big bag on his back.
Marjorie shook her head and chuckled softly. “Isna it how ye injured yerself?” With her stomach both knotting and bubbling with excitement, she walked towards the slope. “Stay there. We’re coming to ye. I’m nae gentle lady who needs rescuing.”
Konnor grinned. “No, you are not.”
The way up was harder than she’d thought. Rocks and pebbles ran from under her shoes. She breathed heavily, and her heart thundered against her ribs. Was it from the climbing, or from seeing Konnor? She grasped branches and roots to keep from falling. She and Colin helped each other get up the hard places.
Finally, they stood before Konnor. Marjorie felt flushed, hot, and sweaty. She took in a lungful of air in an attempt to calm her ragged breathing. There he was, hugging her son with the brightest smile she’d ever seen on his face. The man who’d brought her back to life. The man who understood and cherished her more than anyone in the world. His blue eyes pierced her with the intensity of lightning, like he could look into her soul, like he could see her whole, naked, and vulnerable.
When he let Colin go, he came to stand before her.
“Hi,” Konnor said softly.
She forgot how to speak. His presence melted her like fire malted a wax candle, so sweetly, so deliciously. She remembered his mouth on her lips, his hands making her body sing like a citole. Her mouth went dry, and a new layer of sweat broke out over her skin. Suddenly, she craved something strong to drink.
“Why are ye here?” Marjorie managed. “Isna Los Angeles on the other side of the world?”
“Yes, it is,” he murmured, and his voice stroked her like a gentle hand. “I came to go back through time for you.”
The ground shifted under her feet, and she needed a moment to find her balance again.
“For me?”
“Yes, my Highland queen.” He brushed his knuckles against her cheek.
Highland queen. She let the words wash over her for a moment. They settled in her stomach, instantly setting a whole cloud of butterflies into the sky.
“Did ye change yer mind then?”
“I did. I don’t want to imagine my life without you.”
Those words were like freedom. Like running on the edge of a cliff without a worry in mind, jumping off and being caught by the wind and carried above the sea. She felt weightless. Expanded. Complete.
“And I dinna want a life without ye,” she echoed. She looked at her son. She smiled to him, and he gave her a nod. “And neither does Colin.”
Konnor took a step towards her, a mountain of a male, his scent the sweet mixture of unknown herbs and sea and his own musk.
“Come here.” He took her in his arms and kissed her.
The world around her swam and shift
ed, and everything around her disappeared but Konnor. Only his lips stayed, the warm, soft bliss of his mouth, the gliding of his tongue against hers, the gentle nibbling of her lip. The iron rods of his arms around her waist was the best confinement in the world.
“Mother!” Colin gasped. “Konnor! Ye can lick each other’s mouths when ye’re alone.”
With difficulty, Marjorie leaned back and interrupted the kiss. Oh, how she’d missed him. She hadn’t even realized how much she’d missed him until right now. She belonged with him. In these arms, glued to this body, breathing the same air as him. Dissolving with him.
She smiled at Colin. “Dinna fash, son. One day ye’ll meet a woman ye love like I love this man, and ye’ll understand.”
Colin blushed and mumbled something. Marjorie and Konnor exchanged an amused look. But there was still one question to sort out.
“Did ye want to come stay with me in 1308?” she said.
“Yes.” Konnor chuckled. “I’d be happy to live in any time as long as you and Colin are by my side. I know your life and your family are in 1308, so the last thing I wanted was to take you away from them.”
Marjorie chuckled softly.
“Well, I was hoping to stay in yer time. Sìneag told me this was the last time we could use the rock.”
Konnor grinned the most heartwarming, sunny grin she’d ever seen. It transformed him from a somber warrior to a carefree boy. He picked her up, whirled her around, and kissed her again.
“I love you, my Highland queen, the love of my life.”
“I love ye, too, Konnor Mitchell, warrior from the future. I cannot wait to have this life with the two most important men in my life.”
Colin grinned and hugged her waist, and Konnor put his arms around them both. As she swam in the ocean of happiness together with the man of her dreams, she knew he was the only one in the whole world, in all time, who could give her hope.
The hope that now grew and brought her the biggest adventure of all—a lifetime with the man she loved and her son. Finally, a family.
