Just Within a Highland Mist (Highland Gardens)

CHAPTER ONE

Present day

North Carolina

Mist snaked over the hills and vales of the Blue Ridge Mountains settling on the Village of Anderson Creek and surrounding woods like a shroud.

Emily stumbled through ever-thickening fog, trying to avoid the slap of tree branches obscured by vaporous wisps, fear pressing against a constricted chest. How had she lost the boys?

Malcolm was too bold for a seven-year-old, and the year younger Tevin followed his adopted brother into every unfortunate escapade.

She’d only turned away for a moment to check her smart phone for a signal—a nonexistent signal—and the boys jumped upon the opportunity to bolt through the woods, brandishing wooden swords more than likely against the beast they claimed to track—an orange dragon.

“Life or death!”

The Clan MacLachlan battle cry spat in the distance from the children’s lips hung heavy on the humid air.

Emily raced in the direction she believed the bellow came from and tripped over a root, losing balance.

“Dammit to hell.” She slipped on decaying leaves and banged an elbow on the trunk of a tree; the jolt of shock lit up her nervous system.

“Ouch, ouch, ouch!” She danced around and shook out her tingling arm, then taking a moment to regain composure, leaned her forehead against the rough bark of the old oak and inhaled a deep calming breath. “Please let me find the boys.”

Jillian and Stephen MacEwen would never forgive her if anything happened to their sons while she babysat them.

The sharp snap of a twig sent her off in an altogether different direction.

How had the walk from the inn to the MacEwen’s log cabin become such a nightmare?

Normally, Emily knew the way through the woods to and from the MacLachlan and MacEwen homes, Foxgloves garden center, and the Whispering Pines Inn, but the fog made everything appear different—menacing.

Stopping to catch her breath, she scanned the immediate surroundings. Unable to discern a path, she chewed on a chapped lip. To where had the boys run?

“Malcolm! Tev! Where are you?” she called into the fog.

Tevin’s little-boy shriek jammed her heart into her throat. She sprinted in the direction of the frightening screech, ignoring the sting of branches grazing her face as she darted past haunting tree after tree.

She slid to a stop at the base of the forbidden mound just beyond the garden gate of Foxglove’s display garden.

Like with the eye of a storm, no mist encroached upon the knoll.

Malcolm stood at the far edge, to the side of the mound, feet apart, wooden sword held forward in two firm hands, tip pointed toward Tevin, whose feet were planted on the hilltop in a wide stance, sword held in a similar manner although his hands trembled.

Emily had been warned numerous times by Iain MacLachlan, chief of the local branch of Clan MacLachlan and her boss at the inn, to never, ever, not under any circumstance, step foot onto the mound.

And certainly she wasn’t to permit any of the MacLachlan or MacEwen children in her care to go there.

She’d never understood why. Never asked why. Had thought the warning silly.

Dread stole her breath and she inhaled sharply. “Tevin, come here.”

“I don’t want to go away and fight the dragon alone,” he groused.

“It’s okay, Tev,” she said. His profile seemed like a black and white photograph in the fog with his damp hair curled against a pale face.

The precocious boy had wheedled a special place in her heart, and was a favorite among the children, although she tried not to show too much favoritism.

“You don’t have to fight dragons. Come with me.

We’ll cut through the garden to Laurie and Patrick’s house. I bet your cousins have hot chocolate.”

Tevin didn’t move, didn’t say anything, didn’t look at her. He kept a level stare on his brother.

“Malcolm, tell him to come to me.”

“No. He’s on a quest to kill a dragon.”

“Oh, for pity sake. Enough of this.” She’d just drag him off.

Patience gone, Emily stepped toward the mound and encountered some sort of barrier.

She pressed a finger into it and released.

Snap. The obstruction seemed to be made of clear…

plastic wrap? She moved to the right and then to the left, but the barrier remained.

She couldn’t get through it, as if the mound was encased in a clear plastic bubble. None of this made sense.

How did Tevin get through if she couldn’t?

She glanced over a shoulder. Across the garden, lights brightened the windows of the MacLachlan family’s house on one end, and the garden center’s gift shop at the other, but neither building was close enough that anyone inside would hear a call for help.

She glanced at her phone. Halleluiah! She had a signal.

Without removing her gaze from Tevin, she rang the house phone. The phone rang and rang. No answer.

Hu…hu-hooooo. The eerie call of a barred owl grated on already raw nerves.

“Please, Tev, please come here,” she said. He ignored her. There must be a way to get him through the barrier.

Perhaps his mother was still at the garden center even though it should have closed an hour ago.

Emily rang the number for the gift shop.

“Oh, thank God. Jillian, I’m with the boys in the woods near the mound.

We got lost. The fog is so thick. I lost the boys.

Then I found them. I can’t get Tevin to come to me.

He’s on the mound just beyond the garden gate.

Some sort of…oh, I don’t know…barrier is keeping me from going to him.

I don’t know what to do.” Dammit. I’m rambling.

The, “Oh, shit,” coming from the phone’s tinny speaker confirmed her fears, and ratcheted up the angst curdling in her stomach.

“Tev, your mom’s on the phone. Come talk to her. Pah-lease.”

He touched her with his gaze, shook his head, blue eyes solemn, damp blond curls stuck to cherub cheeks.

Suddenly, tiny sparkling lights flashed about, darting to and fro, settling high in the branches of the one tree on the mound—a beautiful sight. Tevin looked up. His eyes widened in amazement. And…and the little boy vanished.

* * *

August, 1521

Fir-wood, Scottish Highlands

A snagged thread in the fabric of time sent a ripple through the earth realm felt only by those sensitive to such things. Munn stopped in his tracks and perked a pointed ear. Did he hear the murmuring of a new changeling in the wood?

He desperately wished to ignore the woeful sound, but something unbeknownst to him drew him to the bairn. He whirled onto the Sithichean Sluaigh, the knoll of the Fae, spinning in circles, sucking last year’s fallen leaves into the whirlwind propelling him until he slowed to a stop.

This wee male was different than the other bairns of the wood. Dressed different. Cleaner. Munn scratched a whiskered chin. He should flee. Not get involved.

The blond lad stood. Stared with narrowed eyes. “Munn?”

“How do you ken my name?” He’d never seen this lad afore.

The bairn sniffled and wiped his nose on the sleeve of his tunic. “My cousin Allison tells stories about you. You’re the Clan MacLachlan brownie. Your duty is to watch over the clan.”

Munn puffed out his chest. I am legendary.

“You look just like Allison said.” The lad canted his head to the side. “You’ve pointy green boots, pointed ears, and a pointed green cap. You even have a scrunched brown face with whiskers.”

“Humph.” Munn frowned. “What be your name, lad? Who be your father?”

“Tevin.” The bairn raised his chin. His gaze direct for one so wee. “My name is Tevin. My father is Stephen. Stephen MacEwen. He wouldn’t want you to hurt me.”

“Stephen’s son?” For Danu’s sake.

The wee time traveler nodded.

“Nary a one will harm you be you in my care,” Munn said. “Where is your father?”

“I’m alone.” Tevin squatted and picked up a wooden practice sword perhaps dropped upon arrival. He sliced the blade through the air. “Is this ancient Scotland? I’m on a quest to slay a dragon.”

“Ach. A dragon you say?” Munn dithered. Should he impart the bairn’s whereabouts?

Might frighten the lad to ken he’d traveled through time.

What should Munn do with the lad? Stephen would want him to protect his son.

’Twas obvious the Sithichean were involved in this mischief.

But why would the Fae guide a bairn from the future to the past?

“You are in Scotland, but not ancient Scotland. There are nae dragons here. By the bye, how did you get here?”

“My brother, Malcolm, pushed me onto the faerie hill and I traveled back through time.” The bairn pursed his lips. “I guess not far enough.”

Maclay? Damn that villain and his spawn.

Even in death, Maclay was a boil upon Clan MacLachlan.

Munn kenned the man’s bairn would come to nae good.

Stephen should never have championed the lad after his father’s death and raised him as his own.

Still…one of the Fae must be involved for the magic of the faerie hill to thrust a being through time. Especially such a wee being.

“Are you sure there aren’t any dragons? He’s orange,” Tevin persisted.

Munn jerked his gaze to the bairn, annoyed by the interruption to his deliberation. He hated the need to think, but he must figure out what to do about the lad. “Who’s orange?”

“The dragon. It is my destiny to slay the orange dragon.”

“I told you. There are nae dragons here.”

“But Allison and Malcolm said—”

Munn held up a hand. “You best forget about dragons and come with me to Castle Lachlan. The chief will ken what to do with you. And I dinnae want to hear any more about the winged beasts.”

Tevin rolled his eyes to the side and curved tight lips into a disgruntled frown, but when Munn started off, the lad fell into step behind him. “What about the little faeries that brought me here? They have wings.”

Munn stopped short, and the bairn slammed into his back. He spun around and righted the lad. “What faeries?”

“I thought they were dragonflies at first, but they’re really cool. They’re girls with wings. They brought me here. There was one with green wings and another with purple and—”

“Whist! Needs be I think.”

Pixies? Why were pixies sifting time? What mischief did the ebony-haired Marcail and her pesky clan ponder?”

* * *

Present Day

Anderson Creek, NC

Emily gaped at the empty mound. “Where did Tevin go?”

“Don’t know.” Malcolm’s darting gaze made her stomach drop to her knees. She hurried around the edge of the knoll to where he stood, a smirk on his face. He knew more than he’d admit.

“Yes you do. Your mom is on the way. She’ll want to know where your brother went. Tell me where he is hiding before she gets here. Once we find him, we can go home.”

“No!” He slammed two palms against her chest and shoved hard.

She propelled backward through the barrier as if it was nothing more than a bubble of soap. The cell phone flew from her hand, and she landed on her butt, the moist grass of the mound seeping through her leggings. “You little brat!”

Wow. He’d always been a handful, but she’d never called Malcolm a brat before. Shit. He seemed hostile—dark. The look in his eyes almost maniacal.

She pushed her palms against the ground to rise, but hesitated. Little sparkling lights flitted about her. Like lighting bugs. No—

Larger. Dragonflies? Perhaps—

Tee teehee hee. Tee teehee hee. Tee teehee hee. Feminine voices surrounded her with tinkling giggles.

“Who’s there?” Emily’s voice cracked. She leapt to her feet and whirled about, but didn’t see anyone other than the gloating Malcolm.

Then everything went crazy. Spun. Or was she spinning?

She placed a hand on her stomach as if it was possible to hold nausea at bay. The ground fell out from beneath her. A scream caught in a suddenly parched throat. She plummeted downward into nothingness.

Down…down…down, she dropped. What the—

A sonic boom made her head throb. She slapped her hands over ringing ears.

Something pulled her horizontally toward a bright white light. What was there? Who was there? She wished she could backpedal. The light burst like fireworks into bright colors. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet—the colors of the rainbow.

Emily’s vision dulled to gray then went black.