by Kyra Whitton
Ailsa. Was she still there? Could she reach into the dark recesses of her mind and find the other woman curled up and hiding like a sleeper cell? Would she hear her voice? Her thoughts? Would she be like some sort of spirit guide, pushing her from one otherwise ill thought out decision to another? Or were she and Elizabeth one in the same?
That gave her pause. Was she this other woman, slipping through life by another name? Evie wished she’d demanded more information about the dead who pass through the Otherworld’s solstice kingdoms.
Or perhaps there was the third possibility. None of it was real.
Why she couldn’t latch onto that option? Knowing in some way she was once Elizabeth Meyner Carlisle gave her a sense of peace she hadn’t expected. And the thought of it all being a fairytale left her unnerved. Her fingers gripped the steering wheel as the snow began to come down harder and faster, obscuring the markings on the narrow country road. She considered pulling over but knew as long as she could keep the center line in her field of vision she would be okay. She was close, just the Leuchars roundabout stood between her and the last stretch of road that would take her back to the flat on Hope Street.
Outside, the wind whipped the long grasses covering the hills into a frenzy. They buckled and swayed, shuddering as strong gusts heaved up the coast. The wheel jerked in her hands as the car rocked against them. Only a few more miles.
She slowed as she came to the roundabout and carefully checked all directions for traffic. But she was the only driver stupid enough to be out on the roads during a winter storm. She and a small flock of crows staring her down from the grassy center of the intersection.
Alarm bells rang inside her head.
Beware the crows.
No sooner did the memory fill her mind than a pair of headlights flashed in her rearview mirror. She slowly pulled into the traffic circle, and the other car settled in close behind.
She tried to keep her eyes on the road, but the rearview mirror taunted her, and she flicked her gaze up to it.
Mora had found her, that much was certain.
But why? What was so special about Evie? Why was Elizabeth of such value? Nothing Alec told her was enough to form a theory,
She sped down the road, slowing only as she entered town to creep down the street. She pulled in next to the rose garden outside the flat and turned off the car. The bright lights followed her, the soft purr of the other engine rumbling in the quiet, snow-strewn street a few car lengths back.
She would never know what her value was to Mora.
Unless she asked.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Evie awoke to the sound of rustling leaves, the skein of red yarn clutched to her chest, the empty bag flung to one side. Her bones ached from the cold seeping in through the heavy clothes, muscles tightening in waves of shivers. She huffed out a breath, watching it as it swirled above her into the frigid air, disappearing into the bare arbors of the forest above her.
“What are you doing, Eve?” She pushed herself up and turned toward him.
He perched on a fallen log.
“Whatever do you mean, Iain?” she asked with feigned sweetness.
His long legs uncurled with feline ease as he stood. He looked different, and not just because he’d traded in the cargo shorts and tank top for leather pants and a hooded cowl. Perhaps it was the assortment of knives hanging from his belt, the pair of criss-crossed swords on his back, or the grace with which he moved as he stooped to retrieve the plastic bag.
“You know exactly what I mean.” Iain looked pointedly at the red yarn, motioning for her to hand it to him.
She obliged, dropping it into the bag he held open.
“Why are you following me?” She slid her frozen fingers into the gloved hand he offered.
Iain yanked her up, steadying her when her leg didn’t immediately accept the weight, and then shoved the zippered bag into her chest.
She dropped it into her bag and then brushed at the snowflakes clinging to her hair. “Why were you following me?”
He gave her a long-exasperated look. “You know why.”
“You were supposed to bring me here, weren’t you?”
At first he didn’t reply, just looked at her lazily. Another long sigh. A nod.
“Yes.”
“Well, here I am. You did it. You win.” She threw her hands out and allowed him to inspect her.
Iain crossed his arms over his chest. “I know you, and I know it’s not that easy.”
Evie wrapped her arms around herself and looked around. “That’s so weird, because I don’t feel like I know you at all.” She pursed her lips. “Talk.”
He glanced up into the twisted branches of bare trees. “Not here.”
“Prying eyes? Ears?” She wiggled her eyebrows.
He lifted his. “No. It’s just hellishly cold.” He rubbed his hands together. “And your lips are turning blue.”
With a hook of the arm, he motioned her forward. Evie fell in step beside him, thankful he kept his stride to a leisurely stroll so she could keep up.
“Where are we?”
“The northwestern edge of the continent in the Myrkvior. You’re lucky you passed through here. There is a tavern around the bend.”
“Tavern?” she said more to herself than to him.
“Like an inn, but with ale and food. Haven’t you ever heard of them?”
She glared at his back. “Of course I have. I just didn’t expect to find one here.”
“In the Myrkvior?”
“No, in the Otherworld.”
Iain snorted. “Let me guess, you thought it was just an uninhabited, wild world dotted with peasant farms and little cottages in the mountains?”
Evie frowned. That was exactly how she envisioned it. How long had he known about the cottage? And more importantly, did Alec know he knew? “What is it like, then?”
“Vast. Far more vast than you could possibly comprehend. It extends in every direction for eternity.”
“You’ve seen it all?”
“No. That would be impossible. But I know every inch of this land; I have traversed it for my own eternity.”
She eyed him. How old was he? Was it even possible to know in this place? She doubted he would answer if she asked, so she kept her mouth shut.
“You, too.”
She snorted,
He glanced down pointedly at her. “Yes, you.”
Now that was a laugh. Even when both legs worked, she had never been one for exploring the great outdoors. Her idea of camping was a three-star hotel.
The small footpath they followed turned sharply, and up ahead wispy gray smoke rose over the trees. She was relieved to see it; she couldn’t feel her fingertips or her toes any longer. The forest to their left disappeared and all that remained in its place was the sharp drop of a cliff into a churning, tumultuous sea. It stretched right out into the dark blue-gray horizon, the white crests upon the surface flying like birds across its depths.
Settled along the junction of wagon rut running along the bluffs and narrow path they followed, the tavern was long, its stone walls milky white. Outbuildings crowded it.
Iain shot a glance over his shoulder as he strode to reach the door before her, pulling it open to allow Evie to enter first.
A dark taproom greeted her, the shadows deep despite the fire roaring in the soot-covered hearth. It smelled of cedar, and stale ale, the remnants of several meals long past and warm, yeasty bread.
No one looked up as Iain marched into the room, hood drawn low over his brow. She slunk in after him. Chair legs scraped against a water-warped floor as dragged a chair out from under the table closest to the hearth. He dropped into it, leaning back as he eyed the door. With his foot, he pushed a second chair out.
She sat awkwardly, back straight. He had an open view of everyone and everything in the room, and all she could see was him and the fire.
He signaled to someone behind her, not putting her any more at ease.
/> “Why are you here, Eve?”
“Why Eve? Why can’t you just call me Evie? Is the extra syllable really that difficult?”
The corner of his mouth twitched a little, but he didn’t humor her with an answer.
“I saw the crows, so I knew you weren’t far behind. Why fight it?”
He frowned a little. “I’m… sorry about that.”
She started in surprise. “Oh.”
“I never thought to find you, again. And then you walked into the bar with Evan of all people. You cozied right up to me, and I thought maybe you must have remembered. Maybe not everything, but enough. You were just like your old self, cocky, self-assured, you got right down to…” He cleared his throat and his gaze met hers. “Anyway, I just thought it was that thing we do, playing it up, perhaps. As we got closer, I thought you would give up the acting, but you didn’t. So I was angry when you weren’t taking things seriously. By the time I realized you hadn’t been playacting, she was there and I got desperate to save face and… I’m sorry.”
Evie examined her fingernails, wondering what she was supposed to say. She hadn’t expected him to apologize, but so much still confused her.
“We knew each other?” Flora had said they did, but…
He nodded. “For quite some time. We were in the summer palace together. Knew each other well before that, as well, but it’s been some time.”
“Until we went to Annwn with Flora.” She leaned an elbow on the table and dropped her chin into her palm.
His eyes glittered and the corner of his mouth turned up. “You have been busy. What else do you think you know?”
“Think?” She raised her eyebrows.
He chuckled. “Humor me.”
“You knew Alec. Here. On this side.”
The mirth died a little and seriousness washed over his face. “Mmm. That was a long time ago. Even by Otherworld standards. Many events have passed since the interaction on Drumossie Moor transpired.”
Over her shoulder, a pair of battered pewter tankards appeared. She turned, accepting one, and the meaty hand of the proprietress plopped the other in front of Iain. Evie smiled her thanks, taking in the golden hair woven around the other woman’s crown, the plain brown tunic belted over an even browner skirt that revealed a ham-like ankle. Even the woman smelled of roasting meat, the stink wafting around them as she turned away.
Once out of earshot, Iain leaned forward across the table. “Tell me, Evie, why are we having this conversation here and not in that little bar a block away from your flat?”
She ignored him, taking a sip of the ale, instead, and finding it rather good. Much better than she expected, anyway. Once the tankard was back on the table, she turned it in her hands, a splash of the amber liquid sloshing over the rim. Absently, she brought it to her mouth, sucking it away as she leaned back in the chair.
“Because I need to know who I am. All of me. And some of that identity, I think, can only be uncovered here.”
“Why? Why is this important to you?”
Evie canted her head. “Why am I important to Mora?”
He didn’t say anything, just considered her. There was no surprise in his gaze. No shock, no contempt, no joy or love or lust. Just curiosity. “If you go to her, there will be no going back, you know.”
She nodded. “That’s why I stopped fighting it and came to you. So to speak.”
His eyebrows shot up. “You must have a rather elevated impression of my worth or knowledge, then, milady.”
She snorted at the endearment.
“And what do you want from me, Eve?”
She wrinkled her nose at the nickname she hated. The name of the woman he had perhaps loved.
She saw it there, that little slip of sadness, the wistfulness of what had been and was now… gone. “Did you really love me?”
He shook his head and looked toward the heavens. “Another question.” A sigh trailed his muttering.
“What do I need to do to get them answered?”
He rubbed one thumb over the back of the opposite hand. “I can answer all of your questions, but I need something from you first.”
“What? Anything?”
“I need you to let me take you to her.”
“Are you nuts? You just told me that was a bad idea.”
He pursed his lips. “Have you considered you might not want to leave once you learn the truths you’re looking for?”
She leaned forward conspiratorially, her lips playfully lifting at the corners. “Why don’t you tell me and let me decide?”
“Let me bring you to her. And if you decide your fate is taking you somewhere else, I will help you leave.”
The hint of her smile fell and she narrowed her eyes. “How do I know you aren’t lying?”
He held her gaze as he fell back against the chair and pulled at the fingers of the glove on his left hand, inching them up before yanking the leather off. His fingers were pink from the cold beneath and he held the back of his hand flat against the table as he withdrew a hunting knife from his belt with the other. Calmly, he drew the tip across his palm then flipped the knife, offering the handle to her.
Evie looked from his bloody knife to his face.
“Should I break my promise, that knife will not hesitate to plunge into my heart should you will it.”
Evie grimaced and gingerly took the handle, holding it aloft between thumb and forefinger like a dirty sock. “Well, isn’t that… something.” She wasn’t sure what she should do with it, and she certainly didn’t know how to wield it. “What do I do with it now?”
He let out an annoyed sigh and held his hand out. She hurriedly passed it over and instantly wiped her palms across the thigh of her jeans.
“I’ll have it. For safekeeping. But you’re going to learn how to use it.”
“That seems rather counterproductive for you, doesn’t it?”
“No. Because I don’t break my blood oaths.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Wearing the uniform he left folded on the narrow bed, Evie emerged from the little room Iain rented for her. The leather fit like a damn glove, as if the measurements of the pants, the boots, even the reinforced, padded bodice were made specifically for her. Supports were even sewn into one leg, minimizing her limp and the pain that accompanied it.
She’d stared at herself in the little sliver of mirror over the wash basin and wondered what Alec would make of her. Flinging the dark cloak Iain also left around her shoulders, she figured he would be pissed she had made a deal with the devil.
And it stung, just a little, knowing she might be disappointing him. She didn’t want to… but she needed to know. She had to know.
Yet, she held that red yarn in her hand, as if touching it, even through the plastic, was a connection to him. She closed her eyes and let herself savor the thought of him. Imagined his warmth and his scent. And then she gently tucked the yarn into her small purse and pulled the strap over her head and one shoulder, pushing the little leather satchel to the small of her back under the cloak.
She left the clothes she arrived in a neatly folded stack on the lumpy bed. Guilt over the wastefulness of just leaving them gnawed at her, but perhaps someone else would be able to use the raggedy jeans and second-hand sweater. The coat was more problematic seeing as how it wasn’t even hers, but Sarah would forgive her. Maybe. If they ever saw each other again.
As she came down the stairs, she found Iain already lounging at the table they occupied the night before, an empty bowl in front of him and a steaming serving of porridge set at the opposite place setting. She wrinkled her nose as she plopped into the chair. No brown sugar or milk graced the table, and the lump of oats was an unappetizing gray color.
“The ride to the nearest outpost is long. Eat.”
She didn’t say a word, but glared at her breakfast as she wordlessly spooned the watery sludge into her mouth.
He allowed her a silent meal, but tapped his fingertips impatiently on the tablet
op, the gloves muting the punctuated thunks. No sooner was the last spoonful in her mouth than he stood to leave, the chair legs scraping against the floor. Evie followed behind, meeting the gazes of their fellow patrons. They stared unabashedly at her, all conversation fizzling into quiet whispers. She swallowed as nervous flutters seized her gut and heat rose to her cheeks.
She wrapped the cloak more tightly around herself as they exited the warmth of the tavern for the frigid edges of the Myrkvior. The twisted limbs of the trees shimmered with a thin layer of ice in the murky gray light, and she shivered.
Iain took them north, following the wagon ruts up the coastline. Below the cliff, the sea churned mercilessly, white-tipped waves crashing against the rocks, retreating, only to attack again. The water appeared almost black from the overcast sky, and the salt air was painful to breathe. Evie struggled to keep up, though the built-in brace making the quicker steps easier than they had ever been before.
“How long did you have to play soldier just to try to get to me?” she asked when the silence became too much to bear.
He glanced down at her briefly before turning back to the road. “I told you, I wasn’t there for you, finding you was a convenient accident. But not long. A few months.”
She frowned. “How did you even do that? It takes years to get rank. Did you just walk in, ask to be a captain, and then show up at work the next day?”
“Something like that.”
She stopped in her tracks, watching after him as he strode away.
He spun around, backpedaling slowly until she caught back up to him. “I have an unlimited amount of time at my disposal, as well as a magic portal between worlds that allows time travel.” He wiggled his fingers in the air.
“So, what you’re saying is you cheated.”
“Absolutely.”
“Did Alec use time and space to cheat his way in, too?”
Iain snorted. “Him? No. He’s a rule follower down to the core.”
“But he joined the Jacobites.”
