Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Sgathan had grown instantly sickened by playing the old game of replacing his twin to deceive someone, and retreated to his tower room to take solace in drink.
He found Piseag hiding under the tartan he’d left on his chair, and the moment he beheld his bedraggled state all thoughts of Dorchad and Rebecca left him.
“What in the Gods’ names did you to yourself, you wee fool?” He picked up the feline and noted the burnt patches on his fur, which suggested he’d come too close to a hearth. But he’d never known Piseag to even leave his chamber, much less go roaming where he should not.
A moment later his twin came in without knocking and slammed the door behind him.
“Dinnae,” he warned Dorchad as he advanced on him. “You wished to ken if she’d warm to me. You told me do thus, exactly as I did.”
“You did too much. She’s left the island.” His brother picked up the jug of whiskey on his table and hurled it into the hearth, which exploded with flames. “Why couldnae you seduce her proper? Surely you’ve facked a dozen wenches in secret.”
“Three, and only once with each.” As Dorchad stared at him he bared his teeth.
“Your lady’s reaction, ’tis naught new to me.
No female wishes my kiss, my touch or my cock.
I make them ill. ’Tis why Lady Lucy dislikes me, I reckon, and I never even bedded her.
” He watched him drop into a chair and cradle his head between his hands.
“Your wee healer, she’s offered her heart to you, aye? ”
“As no female ever did or could.” He rubbed his eyes. “I cannae wed her, nor give her bairns. She ages each day, while I remain the same. One sickness could carry her off and I think that should end me, too. Only I cannae let her escape me.”
“Eejit.” Sgathan almost punched him. “You’re in love with her as well.”
“I dinnae care. She’s my heart’s mirror. The other side of me.” Dorchad got to his feet. “I must go and bring her back. You shall accompany me. I shall explain my fears and you shall apologize with me.”
He picked up a mug, tossing it up in the air, and watched his twin dodge it as it went flying at his head. “I want your winter coat. The one you had made from the pelts of the wolves slain by those facking hunters ten years past.”
At the door his twin hesitated and looked back at him. “You despise wearing fur.”
“I intend to burn it.” He gave him an insulting smile.
Piseag jumped from his arms and ran under his bed.
Rebecca turned around to see a large man dressed in simple garments standing very close to her.
Although she didn’t recognize him, he resembled the woodsmen that worked on the island for the MacRune Clan.
The sounds of high-pitched laughter made her glance past him at the clearing several yards away, where four youngsters and a young man were herding a small flock of sheep toward the road. Perhaps he was the father of the kids.
Or not, she thought as she shifted her gaze back to the man.
Something about him didn’t seem exactly right.
His face seemed almost off-center, as if it were an excellent rubber mask he’d put on wrong.
His clothing had strange dark stains on the sleeves that looked almost tarry, they were so black.
He didn’t smell like the thieves who had attacked her on the island, but gave off a kind of sickening heat like a feverish patient locked up in an airless sickroom.
“Yes, I’m Dr. McIan,” she said. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”
The woodsman bowed a little too low. “No, my lady. I’m sent by Lady Lucy. She awaits you in the barn just there.” He gestured to her left. “’Twas something about a druid lad gone missing?”
Rebecca sensed she was in trouble, and that this man was not a man at all. After what Dorchad had said about the dark Fae, she knew running would only cause him to chase her down and probably kill her. Over his shoulder, the shepherds were getting closer.
In her mind’s eye she recalled the ER waiting room, with two possible futures playing out before her. In one, this creature butchered them all, adding gore to the stains he already wore. But in the other, she kept him away from the road, and knew instantly that there was really no choice.
“Thank you for the message.” Turning and walking toward the barn as if she suspected nothing took all her self-control. Her whole body wanted to shake itself to pieces, but as he started following her she knew she’d done the right thing.
I’ve lived and helped others like me. I’ve met and been with the man who was my perfect match. If it’s my time, I can go in peace.
“Here I am, Lucy,” she called out as she entered the barn, and then went flying as a hard hand shoved her inside.
Rebecca fell to the dirt floor of the barn, a cloud of rotted straw bits wafting up into her face. She saw the dark boots of the woodsman stop in front of her and went still as they shimmered oddly.
“I must learn what the MacRune know of the cluet,” the man said in a very different voice. “You will tell Umbraen all that you know, mortal. Now.”
She blinked against the grit in her eyes as the man’s boots turned shiny black and grew tiny, bristling silver spikes.
They resembled the war master’s strange, prickly trousers, so Rebecca guessed Umbraen was also dark Fae.
When she glanced up, the last rays of sunlight coming in showed that his garments had changed from the rough tunic and trews worn by the local men to a fitted, gleaming cat suit of red-streaked ichorous green.
A black object like a codpiece with fangs covered his genitals, which bulged out under it, forming a tongue shape.
Looking at his face made bile surge into her throat, as he'd disguised himself behind a grotesque mask with monstrous features, as if he were playing a boar-faced demon with huge curling tusks.
Rebecca’s whole body tensed as she realized that his cat suit was actually his skin, and the mask his real face.
“What would you like to know?” she asked, proud of how calm she sounded.
The dark Fae monster bent over, seizing her by the neck and shoving her against a stack of hay bales. “Did the clan find the rag? Do they now use it to wish back you females from other times? Where do they keep it?”
“I don’t know what to tell you.” Rebecca could hardly get the words out, his hold on her neck was so tight. She knew he’d probably kill her no matter what she said, too, so she would use her last moments to protect Dorchad and his clan. “I’ve never seen the thing you’ve described.”
“You lived among them,” he said, tightening his grip. “You saw what they did each day. Tell me where they searched.”
She tried to speak, but now she couldn’t get any air. When he finally loosened his hold she wheezed, “You’re mistaken. The MacRune kept me locked up.”
“You lie. The laird’s second beats you and uses you for his pleasure.” He let her slide down until her boots touched the ground, and then moved closer, breathing his hot, fetid breath into her face. “He made that plain on the night the queen came.”
Rebecca thought of that terrifying interlude that she and Dorchad had barely escaped with their lives. “So he did.”
“Does he not whisper his clan’s secrets to you?” Umbraen persisted.
She almost laughed at him. “The chieftain uses me as his bed wench. The fact that I enjoy it doesn’t mean he cares for me.
He hates women, and would sooner confide in his horse.
” She was about to say he should ask around about Dorchad, but she didn’t want to put other mortals in danger. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”
The dark Fae shook her until her teeth chattered. “You must know something about the treasure. Tell me all, now, or I shall slay you.”
The way he shouted that at her told Rebecca that her life would soon be over. For some reason she didn’t regret that, although she wished she could have spent more time with the man who frustrated her and confused her and made her happier than she had ever been.
Dorchad is the love of my life. I’m so lucky I was brought back to this time so I could meet him. He’s everything.
“You’re going to kill me anyway. Do it.” She closed her eyes. “Then go back to the hell that spawned you, because the clan will never give you what you want, you evil, ugly fiend.”
That earned her a hard clout from his enormous fist, which knocked her down to her hands and knees. She rolled over in time to avoid a kick from his spiked boots, but when she tried to scramble up he seized her and tossed her across the barn.
“You dare defy me.” Umbraen loomed over her, and bent down to grab the scarf around her neck. His hairy ears pricked forward but then swiveled in near circles as his gaze flicked to the barn door. “An intruder.” He glared down at her, tightening the cloth around her neck. “Time to end you.”
He looped the scarf around twice before lifting her by it.
That made Rebecca instinctively claw at the fabric as he hung her from one of the hooks dangling from the rafters.
Her body weight tightened the noose of fabric around her neck, cutting off her air and making her head pound with an ominous urgency.
This is how my life ends here, she thought dully as she stopped struggling, and saw the dark Fae monster change back into a woodsman before her vision darkened to black.
As her life faded, Rebecca thought of Dorchad smiling, and surrendered to her fate.
She had lived, and she had traveled through time.
She would always be grateful that she’d had the chance to keep living instead of dying at the hands of the hospital shooter.
If only she hadn’t left her grandparents behind in her time, for they would torture themselves over her disappearance for the rest of their lives.
They dinnae do such, lass.