Chapter 7 #2
She found her way into the kitchens, where Doon stood waiting at the biggest sink with a scrub brush, a crock of soap and a basin filled with steaming water. The sight of the cook and what she’d prepared caught Harper so off guard she tripped over her own feet. Then she wanted to kiss her.
“Is that for me, really?” As Doon nodded Harper hurried over and smiled down at the basin. "Are you a mind reader?”
“I watched what you did for us, lass,” Doon said as she came and guided her over to the sink. “’Twasnae pleasant for you. You’re no’ a killer of anything. ’Tis what came to mind when I saw you walking back.”
“Thank you for noticing. If I ever get back to my estate, I’m leaving a chunk of it to you.” She let the cook rinse most of the black goo from her hands and then apply some soft soap with an old cloth. “I can do this myself, you know.”
“Permit me serve you thus.” Doon smiled a little as she scrubbed her skin gently, applying just enough pressure with the brush to remove the last remnants of the dark gore. “The water, ’tis hot but no’ scalding. I didnae wish burn you.”
“Someday you’re going to tell me for real how you knew exactly what I needed,” Harper warned her as she plunged her hands in the basin, wincing at the heat and then sighing with satisfaction. “Oh, that’s perfect. The only thing that would be better is another basin to soak my head in.”
“I’ll arrange a tub bath for you later so you may wash your hair.” The cook rinsed her hands one last time before she dried them, and then held them clasped between her worn palms as she said, “I ken you’re no hungry, but I’ve a calming brew you’ll like.”
Harper never liked being touched by strangers, but she knew Doon was being completely sincere. There was also something about the older woman that gave her the sense of being safe and protected, although she had no reason at all to think so.
“I’ll try your brew another time,” she promised, and glanced down at the black splatter on her shirt. “I need to wash the rest of me and change into some clean clothes.”
After looking out into the gardens, which now stood empty, Harper left the kitchens and headed toward the forge, where she hoped Rory would have returned.
Since no other woman in the castle was her size, she’d have to borrow some of his clothes until she could wash the goo out of hers.
She also wanted to have a few words with him about that killer first kiss, and how soon they could try for another one.
If it turned out to be even more passionate, well, then, maybe she wouldn’t need clean clothes after all.
As she turned a corner she walked into a huge cloud of white mist, which stopped her in her tracks as if she’d been encased in ice. As Harper wondered if this day was ever going to stop sucking with teeth, the young blonde woman who had pulled her into the spell trap appeared.
Aye, ’tis me. I’m Torra MacBren.
I don’t care, Harper thought back to her, growing angrier by the moment. Don’t make me use my melia magic on you, ghost girl. Unfreeze me.
We’ve no’ much time left. She began fading from view, and then solidified again. The enchantment here, ’tis attempting to change me back to my mortal form.
And why is that my problem? she demanded.
My power, ’tis such that I cannae occupy a revenant body.
If I’m restored to living flesh, my spirit shall be driven out.
As I’m trapped outside the mortal realm, ’twill seek another who shares my bloodline against my will.
’Tis only one here who I may call my true kin.
Only one whose body I may touch and possess.
As she realized who she meant, Harper closed her eyes. Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.
’Tisnae all you must tell the others. You must show them the beginning of the end.
Olivia emerged from the potting shed with Eachann, the head gardener who now walked with a cane, thanks to a broken leg that the enchantment had only half-healed.
When she’d discovered that the old injury still caused him pain, she’d tried to convince him to allow Benedict Miller to examine his leg and treat the injury, but he’d refused.
“’Tis the enchantment, my lady,” he’d assured her. “Much improves of late, too. Mayhap the gods shall show me kindness and permit the magic here to fix my old bones.”
As he hobbled away, Olivia looked over at where the bizarre forest of creature-growing trees had sprung up and then disappeared, thanks to something Rory and Harper Ensley had done.
She’d watched the armorer and the big red head touch a branch on each tree, and then all the tiny faceless creatures sprouting from them had burst. The overly-sweet stink that had driven her and Eachann into the shed had mostly disappeared, too.
She saw Ava and Tasgall still outside, and started in their direction until she realized from their expressions that they were arguing.
That stopped her in her tracks, and when she turned around she nearly walked into her husband’s chest.
“Steady, Wife.” Alec braced her with his hands and bent his head to drop a kiss on the top of hers. “I wish you’d come into the stronghold when there’s trouble afoot.”
“I wasn’t going to leave Eachann to face it alone.” She slipped her arms around his waist. “How are you, my handsome hubs?”
“Missing you every moment we’re apart.” He bent his head and brushed his lips over hers, making every inch of her tingle.
“Well, I hate to ruin your happier mood,” she said, grimacing. “But I think Tasgall and Ava are fighting over what just happened.”
“Indeed. No doubt they saw as I did from above,” he said, nodding toward the inner curtain wall. “When Mistress Ensley touched the trees, she glowed with a bright amber color, in the same fashion Lady Ava glows dark green and Rory dark violet.”
“I didn’t see that from the potting shed,” Olivia admitted. The thought of the newcomer having magic powers made her arrival even more troubling. Could Bodach have sent her inside? “Maybe it was just a trick of the light.”
“The sky, ’tis green, no’ amber” Alec countered. “We’ve no sun in this wretched place. I reckon she glows with power, as does Rory and Ava. Only her magic, ’tis warm, no’ dark.”
Olivia knew from several conversations with Ava that her friend and the armorer were blood-related through his mortal mother.
She also gathered that Rory’s mother had run away from her people, who had been a tribe of dark magic practitioners.
More than that she could only guess, but she suspected Ava had more reason to be upset than what Harper had done to the trees.
Before she could say as much to her husband she noticed Ava stalking into the stronghold, and Tasgall walking in the opposite direction toward the garrison hall.
“I shall speak with him,” Alec said, and went after the laird.
Olivia didn’t like interfering in Ava’s business.
Her friend had been an FBI agent in the outside world, and she had far more experience in dealing with people and problems, even in this strange place.
She also knew that Ava regularly kept things to herself rather than burdening others, in a sense protecting them from more worry.
That didn’t mean she always had to deal with situations alone; she usually had Tasgall to help her.
Until today, Olivia thought, walking into the great hall where Ava was standing and staring through the window slits at the restored garden.
“Hey,” she said, keeping her tone low and pleasant as she joined her. “After the attack of the killer-sprouting trees I sure could use some of Doon’s calming brew. Want to have some with me?”
“I don’t need soothing.” Ava glanced at her and sighed. “You saw us arguing?” When Olivia nodded she said, “My husband and I don’t always see problems the same way because we were born a thousand years apart. Looks like this is one of those times.”
The way she spoke told Olivia that she was angrier with herself than the laird. Whenever Ava got upset with others, she hid her emotions behind a bland professional mask and friendly tone. Her Texas accent only grew twangier when she blamed herself for something.
“Come and sit, my ladies,” Doon called to them as she brought a tray of hot brew and some fruit and cheese to the dais table. “Dinnae fuss, Lady Ava. You’ve endured a trying morning. I shall send the big lass to you as soon as she returns.”
Olivia wondered why Ava wanted to see Harper Ensley, but when she sat down with her friend she chatted away about her projects in the garden.
Teaching the clan’s gardeners about amending the soil and dealing with weeds wasn’t really important, but the words filled the silence between her and Ava.
Sometimes she wondered if the other women from the modern world thought she was an airhead, but she didn’t care.
Even a bubble-brain could be useful in this miserable place.
“It’s okay, Liv,” Ava said when she paused to take a bite of a juicy strawberry. “I just wish I could figure out things faster and deal with them better, that’s all.”
That was a signal for her to ask, “Is it our new arrival who’s got you so worried?”
“Harper Ensley is not just a regular person.” The laird’s wife gnawed at her bottom lip for a moment before she added, “After seeing her in action today, I’m not so sure I want to know what she is. She might even have some kind of connection with the enchantment here.”
“You’re scared for Rory,” Olivia guessed, and knew she was right the moment Ava looked away. “I don’t think Ms. Ensley will hurt him. Probably the opposite, judging by the way she looks at him.”
“Then there’s that.” She rested her chin on her fist. “Things are moving a little too fast in that department. Tas told me that Rory has never had a lover. He just lost the only woman he wanted to love, too. Cutting his teeth on the likes of that girl…” She sighed.