Chapter Twenty-Three
C allum watched in horror as Gille transformed. His heart shattered into a million pieces, the pain almost unbearable. He had failed her, failed their love. He did love her, he realised as the most profound sense of joy countered his pain. He’d never had the chance to tell her how he felt, to show her one last time what she truly meant to him.
Now, she would live out her days along the shores of the loch, a constant reminder of his failure. His heart ached with a deep, consuming sorrow. He had lost her, and he knew he would never be able to forgive himself. Tears streamed down his face, blurring his vision. He sank to his knees, his body trembling with grief, allowing his tears to fall upon her bark.
As he stared down at the form Gille had become, a part of him hoped she could hear his silent plea for forgiveness. He would spend the rest of his days caring for her, hoping that somehow, she could feel his devotion even from beyond.
With his next heartbeat, his grief shifted to something else. The need for revenge. He tensed as his hand found his dagger, ready to exact penance for the fulfilment of Gille’s curse. He flexed, ready to strike, then paused when a small root lifted from the ground, covering his hand. A voice, Gille’s voice, drifted across his mind. Revenge is what trapped me here. Do not let that sentiment continue.
Before Callum could react to the slim branch that touched his flesh, evidence that Gille was still somehow with them, a shimmering portal opened beside the tree. Titania, the queen of the fairies, stepped through, followed by several male fairies. Her face was flushed with anger as she glared at Oberon. “How dare you get in the way of true connection, true love,” she exclaimed, her voice filled with venom. “Your actions have caused great harm.”
Callum looked beyond the newly arrived fairy to see Alastair and Tormod circulating amongst the others, gathering the iron bracelets from their arms. Callum had to keep himself from smiling. Where their swords had been ineffective against the powerful fairy king, the simple protective pieces could very well be their best defence. His gaze connected with Alastair’s, a brief nod communicating that he understood what he had to do.
Titania’s gaze locked with Oberon’s. “You will no longer interfere in the lives of the MacLeods,” she declared, her voice filled with authority. “I have grown quite fond of them in the past few years, and I will not have you meddling with them any longer.”
Oberon sneered. “I will do as I please,” he replied, his voice dripping with arrogance.
Titania’s eyes narrowed. “We shall see,” she said, her tone laced with a hint of menace. With a wave of her hand, she summoned a shimmering barrier that enveloped Oberon, trapping him in place.
Alastair and Tormod took advantage of the moment, tossing Callum the bracelets. While Oberon remained suspended, Callum quickly secured the iron bands around both of the fairy king’s wrists and up his arms.
Oberon cried out in pain as the metal singed his flesh and weakened him so when the barrier faded, he was too weak to do anything but stumble forward, leaning against the woman who had betrayed him. “I’ll have your head for this,” he growled.
“No, you will not.” Titania smiled as she signalled the other fairies to come forward and secure Oberon with ropes about his waist. “I am making the decisions now. Instead, you will be taken back to Fairyland and locked in a tower for as long as it takes for you to change your ways.”
As Titania’s men secured Oberon, Titania approached Alastair. “Your bravery in sacrificing yourself for your clan, and for Graeme, is truly commendable. You used the last of the Fairy Flag’s magic to save your people.”
“It was my duty as a leader,” Alastair replied modestly. “I simply did what was necessary.”
Titania arched an eyebrow. “As a reward for your leadership and Oberon’s part in provoking the English attack, I will restore what you lost. The castle wall will be rebuilt, and the Fairy Flag will be renewed.”
With a flick of her wrist, the golden stones scattered on the beach rolled uphill and reassembled the wall. The Fairy Flag then shimmered and glowed. “The MacLeods may use the flag’s magic once more, but this time, no one will need to pass into Fairyland. The flagbearer will be safe.”
Alastair’s face lit up. He bowed to the fairy queen. “Thank you for your generosity, Titania.”
“Your gratitude is appreciated,” she said. “By preserving fairy lore, you ensure the fairies’ magic endures. Belief in our existence is vital to our power.”
Alastair nodded solemnly. “The MacLeods will dedicate themselves to preserving fairy lore on Skye and beyond.”
As her men escorted Oberon away, Titania looked upon the MacLeods. “I will miss watching all of you.” She turned to Callum. “Especially you and Gille,” she said with a wink, then turned to go.
“Wait,” Callum cried out. “You must change Gille back. If you care for her then you cannot leave her like this.”
Titania stepped into the portal, and as she started to disappear, she said, “You need no other magic than love to set her free.”
What did she mean? He did love her and that hadn’t been enough. Callum’s throat tightened as he turned to Alastair. “The Fairy Flag. Please let us use its newly restored magic to reverse Gille’s curse.”
“That will not be necessary,” Alastair said, motioning for Callum to turn around.
Callum turned, his heart in his throat at the sight unfolding before him. Bathed in the golden light of sunrise, the branches of the beech tree softened, its leaves transforming into shimmering strands of hair, devoid of her previous white streak. The bark peeled away, revealing the smooth, delicate skin of a woman until Gille emerged. He had thought her beautiful in the past, but now she was transformed as nature endowed her with more grace and elegance than before. And the leaves that had once been her hair now adorned her head like a crown, a symbol of her resilience and strength.
Callum approached her, his eyes wide with wonder. His heart filled with a love so profound it seemed to transcend words. “Gille,” he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion.
Gille lifted her face to his and her magnificent green eyes filled with tears. “We did it. We broke the curse.”
Callum took a step closer, his hand trailed along the curve of her cheek. She leaned into his touch and looked up at him then. Gratitude brightened her eyes, bathed him in an unfamiliar light. His chest tightened. Images of their time together tumbled through his brain. He saw her bathed in sunlight as they searched the forest, wreathed in moonlight as they celebrated Beltane Eve. He saw her lying against the coverlet of his bed with desire in her eyes, waiting for him to pull her into his arms, wrap her in his warmth, and reveal the greatest mystery of life to her.
An emotion both intense and primal surged inside him. It was an emotion he had never expected to feel after all those long, lonely days tending the castle while his brothers were away. He let the emotion form, swirl inside him, warm him in places that had dulled to anything other than survival. It burst from him on a breath and seemed to fill the very air around him. “I love you,” Callum said, his voice firm and unwavering.
“And I love you,” he heard her say over the thunder of his heart. She blinked back tears. “I had never thought I would hear those words from you.”
His lips came down, claiming a kiss that was both urgent and gentle. When he pulled back, he smiled down at her. “I might not have said the words, but tell me you felt them in my touch, read them in my eyes, heard them in my voice.”
She returned his smile. “Every day since we first met.”
He brushed his lips across her brow and smoothed her hair back from her cheeks. “If I have not said the words enough, then I promise you will hear them every day. I love you, Gille. Always and forever. I cannot image another sunrise without you at my side.”
“I can think of no place I would rather be,” she replied, her voice filled with warmth.
And as if in response to their newly made commitment, the charred, skeletal remains of the trees regenerated until the woodlands were once again the lush and vibrant landscape they had been before the fire.
With a sense of wonder, Gille and Callum watched the sun continue to rise. Pink and golden light flared, sending the warming rays of the sun over them. Callum pulled Gille against his chest as they looked out over Loch Dunvegan. The water, still and calm, mirrored the colours of the sky, shimmering like liquid fire.
“This sunrise was almost stolen from us,” Gille said with no hint of dismay, only a newfound hope in her voice.
“It is a gift. This new day and all those to follow.” Callum held her close, never wanting to fear he would lose her again.
“Perhaps we should make a habit of this, coming out every morning and watching the sun rise, to remind us of what almost slipped through our fingers.”
Callum agreed, his heart filled with a sense of peace and contentment. As they watched the sun climb higher in the sky, they knew that their love was stronger than any challenge that might come their way.