Taming the Highland Beauty (Guardians of the Isles #7)

Chapter Fourteen

A t dawn, Callum and Gille, accompanied by Alastair and Graeme and a small contingent of men, departed Dunvegan Castle. The tools they needed for digging were tied to a separate horse that travelled with them. Callum sat his horse as he looked at the woman on horseback beside him.

Gille had left her cloak behind today, opting for a woollen riding habit instead. As they made their way to the gate, her gaze shifted to the rising sun. “Do you believe we will find a moonstone?”

“Aye, but not just any moonstone. A special moonstone. One that will compel Minerva to help us,” Callum said as his voice turned hoarse. God willing, they would find what they needed quickly and put an end to this woman’s torture. Callum was startled at the thought. When had his thoughts so shifted that he now considered her more woman than fairy?

Her beautiful green eyes met his and the faintest smile touched her lips. A warm sensation filled his chest, and he brought his horse alongside hers until his legs brushed Gille’s. He wanted to reach out and wrap his arms around her, to pull her to him and press a kiss to her lips.

Gille’s breathing grew rapid as evidenced by the rise and fall of her chest. He could smell the soft scent of heather soap that lingered on her skin. If he leaned closer, he could press his lips to hers, but he clutched the reins in his hands, resisting the temptation. Just as quickly he realised he did not want to stop resisting her any longer. “May our search be a quick one,” he whispered.

She swallowed roughly as she nodded.

What had flared between them last night was now a burning need. Such desire was something he had not felt before, something magical, something he had waited for his entire life...

A smile came to her lips, as if she understood his thoughts.

He leaned towards her.

“We are ready to move out,” Alastair announced in an authoritative tone, breaking the moment.

The muscles of Callum’s stomach knotted as he jerked back in his saddle.

Disappointment flickered in Gille’s expression as Callum released a similar sigh of regret, flicked his reins, and set off towards the gates, taking his frustration with him. Gille followed. Perhaps leaving Alastair to wonder what madness had possessed the two of them.

As they cleared the gates, the riding party turned to the south-east, heading for the two flat-topped peaks of Healabhal Bheag and Healabhal Mòr in the distance. The MacLeod’s Tables would hopefully provide them a moonstone before the two-day deadline. That stone was all that stood between them and acquiring the song that would break the curse and free his mother and Gille.

They rode through the moorlands for what felt like hours, until the sun rose, turning the long grass into an endless expanse of muted gold. It took another hour to finally reach the base of Healabhal Mòr, the shorter of the two peaks. The horses were left to graze on the grass, willowherb, and brambles along with a herd of red deer who seemed undaunted by their presence.

Callum made sure that Gille remained near him as they made their way up the steep grassy slopes. By the time they reached the summit, the sun was at its zenith and Callum’s stomach began to rumble.

“Mrs Honey sent along a picnic,” Alastair remarked with a smile as he and many others heard the gurgling noises emanating from Callum’s empty stomach.

Callum shook his head. “We should start our search while we still have a lot of daylight left to us. If Minerva saw the reflection of moonstone from the water below, it seems only logical to start our search there.” He started towards the edge closest to Loch Dunvegan.

Gille stalled him with a hand on his arm. “Callum, take a break for some refreshment. Our search might go more swiftly if we are all not so famished when we begin.”

He could not argue with her logic. He nodded, and moved back to the saddle bags, unloading the meal their cook had sent along. It did not take long to spread out a large blanket, then to lay out the savoury meat pies, chunks of cheese and bread, slices of tart apple, and skins of ale that had been prepared for them.

“This is not the first meal the MacLeods have had on this summit,” Callum said. “There are several legends surrounding the MacLeod’s Tables, one of which claims that in the sixteenth century, the chief of the Clan MacLeod was believed to have boasted, at a banquet held by King James, that he had a much grander table than the king. Sometime later, the MacLeod chief invited the king and his guests to a banquet on the top of Healabhal Mòr, thus proving his point.”

“Truly?” Gille asked with a hint of suspicion. “It hardly seems an appropriate place to invite a king.”

Callum shrugged as he shifted his gaze to Alastair. “What say you, Brother? Truth or tall tale?”

“Who is to say for certain, but we both know that many of the legends surrounding the MacLeods do tend to be true,” Alastair said as he gathered his food and took a seat on the rocky ground.

Callum chose a seat near Gille, who gazed about her at the view.

“What is true is this: on a clear day like today from the top of this peak, you could see a spectacular view of Loch Dunvegan with its many islands.” He looked at the sky overhead and noted golden eagles sailing above them. “All that is missing from this picnic is music floating on the breeze.”

“Perhaps a bagpipe?” Gille teased, knowing he meant to play his mandolin.

“Nay,” Callum objected with a grimace. “That instrument is far too loud for my tastes.” He stood and retrieved his mandolin from where it had been tied to his horse. He played a couple of Scottish folk songs, which brought forth cheers and clapping from the others while they continued eating. Then to Gille he said, “Before we get back to our search, I want to share with you a song I recently learned from Gwendolyn. It has been passed down through the generations of our family and originally came to us from your mother, Pearl. Perhaps you know it? ‘The Fairy Lullaby.’”

Her brows came together. “Nay.”

“Ho-ro-veel-a-vok, bone and flesh of me. Ho-ro-veel-a-vok, blood and pith of me,” he sang as he played the haunting melody. “Skin like falling snow, green thy mail coat. Live thy steeds be, dauntless thy following.”

All conversation halted as those gathered listened to the story of a fairy in a green kirtle who came to Dunvegan to quiet the laird’s half-fae child. Gille closed her eyes and listened, as her hair danced about her face in the afternoon breeze.

As the melody continued, Gille frowned, fighting to connect the sounds she heard with something that had been locked in her brain. The wind gusted just then, and she felt a brush against her shoulder. She opened her eyes, to see only Callum and the others. When the last note faded, a memory surfaced. “That melody.” She hummed what Callum had just played. “It is similar—nay, it is the same tune—as the song of the selkies. How can that be?”

Callum put down his mandolin. “Are you certain?”

“Aye.” Excitement flared in her eyes. “All we need from the selkies are the words, and we will be able to break my curse and free your mother.”

Eager to get started in their search for the moonstone, they quickly cleaned up the remains of their meal. The search party broke into groups of two and dispersed in different directions, each taking tools with them. Gille and Callum began their search along the rim of the peak, seeking a rock that exhibited a milky, bluish lustre that appeared to float just below the surface of the stone. The reflected light would only exist in the presence of other light, so it was important to make the most of the waning daylight.

They moved across the rocky terrain, seeking anything that shimmered, but only finding plenty of dark-coloured basalt. Before frustration set in, Callum grabbed the pickaxe he had brought and started digging into the rock, hoping to find what had so far remained hidden.

*

The rhythmic sound of the axe biting into the rocky soil echoed all around her as Gille knelt on the ground, out of striking range. She separated the rock Callum had worked loose with her hands. She knew she should focus on the rocks sifting through her fingers, but instead she lifted her gaze to see Callum had removed his shirt and unpinned the tail of his tartan so that it hung down around his legs. She should look away but found she could not. He was bare to the waist, his bronzed back tapering to narrow hips. His arms and shoulders rippled with thick, bunched muscles as he swung the pickaxe in graceful arcs.

Gille had never seen a man’s bare arms before, let alone an entire naked male torso. The sight sent her heart racing even as it brought heat to her cheeks.

He looked up then and caught her staring. His pickaxe thudded heavily against the ground. Her breath caught at the raw desire she read in his eyes. His expression held the same hunger burning inside of her.

“I cannot think or breathe.” The words were a whisper and a promise as he came to her side. He took her hand in his as he led her over the summit, until they were out of sight. Then his hands were at her waist, kneading her flesh through the soft fabric of her gown.

The heat of his body reached out to her, claiming her. “Kiss me,” she said, as he cradled her in his arms and did as she asked. When their lips finally parted, they were both breathing hard. Warmth crept up Gille’s throat and across her breast as something inside her began to tighten and ache. “We should get back to the search.” She tried to pull away but could not find the strength.

“One more kiss,” Callum replied as his hands moved up her back, pulling her closer before he caught her lips with his once more.

She sighed with pleasure and closed her eyes, relishing the feel of such delicious and little-known sensations. The kiss went on, spun out, and she almost gave herself over to it, until the memory of why they had come to this place returned. She broke the kiss, and stepped back, away from temptation. Her breathing came in ragged gasps as though she had run up the hillside once more. “Callum.” Her tone was as ragged as her breath. “We must continue our search.”

His breathing matched her own. “My apologies.” His smile filled with the same pleasure they had exchanged moments before. “You are just so enchanting.” Then his smile faded, and tension once again descended over his face “That is odd,” he said, moving past her towards what looked to be a cave in the side of the peak.

Callum entered the darkness then came back to the opening. “This cave goes on for quite a way, I think.” His smile returned; this time it was filled with hope.

He reached out his hand. Gille hesitated for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest. Then, with a deep breath, she accepted it, allowing him to draw her into the opening. Inside, darkness surrounded them, but Callum dropped her hand and withdrew something from his sporran. A scraping noise sounded, then a flare of light illuminated the rock around them.

“A flint and candle?” she asked, amazed he had thought to pack such. The wax would give them an hour, perhaps a little longer to explore the cave.

“The last few years have taught me to be prepared for anything.” Their voices echoed in the cavernous space. He held the candle out, illuminating the rock beside them. Flecks of silver caught the light and flared. Gille gasped at the sight. Perhaps a moonstone would do the same.

They pressed deeper into the space, until they came to a large, open chamber. In the centre of the chamber, bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, was a shimmering stone.

Gille’s eyes widened in disbelief. It was a moonstone, more beautiful and radiant than she had ever imagined. She reached out to touch the clam-sized stone, but as her hand neared the stone, a sudden gust of wind swept through the chamber, extinguishing the candle.

The cave was plunged into darkness, and a chilling silence descended. Gille could hear the distant rumble of the waves and the mournful howl of the wind. She felt a deep sense of unease as Callum fumbled with the flint and stone, trying to reignite the candle. Suddenly, Gille knew they were not alone in the cave.

A faint glow began to emanate from the moonstone, illuminating the cave in an ethereal light. As the light grew brighter, a figure emerged from the shadows, her form indistinct at first, then her body shimmered with an otherworldly light.

Callum stopped trying to light the candle and drew his sword. “Halt!”

The woman ignored his warning as she stepped closer to Gille until the woman’s piercing blue eyes connected with her own. Instant recognition dawned. Titania, queen of the fairies, stood before them.

Gille gasped at the sight. Titania’s delicate features seemed out of place in the ruggedness of the cave. She wore a gown woven from gossamer threads and adorned with vibrant flowers, and a crown of shimmering dewdrops adorned her head. There was no malevolence in her slight stature, but the fairy queen had fooled Gille before, looking like an ethereal beauty when her magic had stung like a barb.

“Why are you here? What do you want?” Gille dropped into a defensive stance, ready to fight. She and Callum had found a moonstone, and she was ready to do whatever she must to make sure they left the cave with it. “Have you and Oberon not tortured me enough for one lifetime?”

“I never tortured you, Gille. I was playful, and perhaps unkind a time or two, but never vengeful like Oberon. I was, and am now, your ally.” Her gaze shifted to Callum then back again. “You have come for the moonstone,” she said, her voice echoing through the cave. “But it is not yours to take.”

Gille’s heart sank. They had travelled so far, endured so much, only to be denied the prize she sought. “Please,” she said. “That moonstone is the only way to break the curse that threatens my life. A curse Oberon placed on me.”

“I know what he has done to you.” Sadness entered Titania’s eyes. “I want to give you the stone, but it is not mine to give. I could only lead you to this place where you must do the rest.”

She paused for a moment; her eyes fixed on Gille. “You must prove your worth to the guardians of the moonstone. Only then can you claim the stone.”

“How?” Gille asked as desperation tightened her chest. “What must I do? I have very little time left to me.”

The woman gestured towards the cave entrance. “Outside on the face of the hillside, there is something that must be rectified before the moonstone’s guardians agree to part with their treasure.”

“What say you, Gille?” Callum asked beside her. She knew he would fight the fairy queen if she asked, but Gille also knew the fairy’s magic was stronger than her own. And Callum could be injured, or worse if they did not do as Titania asked. She had said she was an ally. Could they trust her? Titania was as much a trickster as her overbearing husband.

Gille hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. Then, with a deep breath, she turned to Callum. “We must leave the moonstone here, for now.”

He nodded and sheathed his weapon. “If this is a trick and it costs Gille her life, then be warned that I will not rest until I avenge her.”

“So handsome and fiery. I can see why you like this one, Gille.” Titania laughed, a musical chime carried on a gentle breeze, filling the air with joy and wonder. “Go now and do as I ask. There will be no need for vengeance.”

Callum relit the candle and after a glance back at both the moonstone and Titania, he took Gille’s hand and led her back to the entrance. As they emerged into daylight, Callum extinguished the candle and returned it to his sporran while Gille looked about at the barren terrain. She could see nothing but moss, lichen, and grass growing from the rocky ground. Perhaps if they walked for a distance, they might find something?

The sun was starting its descent towards the horizon as they traversed the desolate landscape, until they stumbled upon a small, dying fern. The fern had been here on the mountainside for a time, though she could not say how long. Its fronds were gnarled and browning, curling in upon themselves.

“What is it, Gille?” Callum asked. “Is this what you were meant to find?”

“Perhaps.” Gille knelt beside the suffering plant, feeling a strange connection to the fern, as if it were calling out to her. The fern roots were withered and dry, starved of nourishment. “Do you have water?”

Callum removed the strap attached to the skin of water he carried and offered it to Gille. She poured all of it over the base of the plant. Then, she began to loosen the soil around the fern, allowing the liquid to penetrate deeper.

As she worked, the fern seemed to respond. Its leaves, which had been shrivelled and brown, began to turn green, and a faint glow emanated from its stalks. She had not needed to use her magic to restore the plant. It had only needed some loving attention as did most living things. It was a lesson the forest had taught her.

Several minutes later, the fern was fully restored, its fronds vibrant and healthy. A sense of peace washed over Gille, and she knew she had completed the guardians’ task.

She and Callum looked into each other’s faces, newfound hope lighting their eyes. When they returned to the cave, as they approached the entrance, Callum prepared to relight the candle. Suddenly the moonstone began to glow brighter than ever, illuminating the cave.

Titania appeared once again, and her smile filled with approval. “You have proven your worth to me and the moonstone’s guardians,” Titania said. “The stone is yours.”

“Why are you helping me?” Gille asked, puzzled by the fairy’s behaviour. When she had lived all those years in the fairy realm, no one except Aria and Pearl had helped her break free of Oberon’s abuse.

Titania shrugged. “Partly because it irritates Oberon to know you have an ally. And, because I acknowledge I should have done more when you were younger. You had justification in wanting to send Oberon into the beyond where he would not hurt you ever again. There are days I wish to send him there myself.”

“How do we stop him from doing what he did to me to someone else?”

“We teach him a lesson.” Titania shimmered, her words echoing in the cave. She held the stone out to Gille and, as she accepted it, Titania vanished from sight.

Gille cupped the clam-sized glowing blue stone in her palm, feeling a surge of power course through her. The stone was extraordinary. Larger than any moonstone she had ever seen, and radiating not just light, but also a magical force that should satisfy Minerva’s requirements a hundred times over.

But that surge of energy and excitement faded as quickly as reality settled upon her shoulders. “We only have one day left to us,” Gille said, her throat tight. “Will it be enough time to convince Minerva to help Lady Janet and me?”

Callum moved to stand before her. Determination lit his eyes. “Now we have what we need. With it we can make the most of the time left.”

“Then why am I suddenly afraid?”

“Because of the unknown.” He took her hand. “I am with you until the end, Gille. All the MacLeods are with you. We must move swiftly now. Come.”

Gille nodded as her fear merged with a blossoming hope. Until the end. The words held both an ominous and hopeful tone.