Epilogue #2
He stared out at the barely moving water, his hand in Charlie’s fur, scratching absently along his back.
“To the training fields. Too long we’ve been idle here, and we dinna want the lads to grow complacent.
” He glanced sideways and asked, “Dare I ask, which of my sisters sent ye to the beach today seeking escape?”
She hesitated, unwilling to whine about his sisters, and then said, “It wasn’t your sisters at all.” Ignoring the skeptical look he slanted toward her, she said, “I like the salty air.”
“And the quiet, nae doubt,” he suggested.
“Yes, although it’s not quiet like the forest.”
“Nae, but I ken ye find peace here, and likely are pleased that not one of my sisters would ever go barefoot, and neither would any one of them endure sand inside their shoes.”
She laughed softly. “That, I am thankful for.” She let her gaze drift back to the water, where the waves rolled lazily ashore before retreating once more. “It reminds me of home,” she said. “Home in California, that is.”
Morggán turned his face toward her. “Were ye near the sea?”
“A few miles from it.” She nodded toward the water. “Not exactly like this. The beaches there were wider, and the waves much bigger. The water was warmer, too. My parents used to take me sometimes.”
He looked out across the sea again and was quiet for a long time.
“Will ye speak of it now?” he asked after a time, his voice careful. “About that day, and what ye recall.”
She turned to him. “The day I... came here? To this time?”
Morggán nodded but kept his gaze on the sea.
Avery drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.
They had spoken, on more than one occasion, about her world, the future, and how different it was from now.
She’d tried, mostly unsuccessfully she thought, to describe cars and skyscrapers, and telephones and modern war as she understood it, with guns and planes and tanks.
She’d told him of indoor plumbing and electricity, and as many modern appliances as she could recall.
Morggán had listened with unfailing patience, asking thoughtful questions when he had them, though she suspected much of it remained beyond anything he could truly imagine.
He’d asked her before about how she’d come to be in the forest, months and months ago, closer to when they first met, but she knew she hadn’t answered coherently.
“We’d come to Scotland because of my father’s work,” she began now.
“We’d been here for almost three weeks, traveling all over the country.
We’d gone to castles and museums and several movie premieres.
My parents wanted me to see everything.” A faint smile touched her lips before fading.
“That day... everything was perfectly ordinary. We were walking together in a small town, just killing time before an event that evening. We were window shopping, I remember.” She frowned slightly, searching for details that had become elusive over the years. “Then the air changed.”
Morggán glanced at her.
“It became... heavy, somehow. The wind came up all at once.” She shook her head. “I remember that there was no sound, like I couldn’t hear cars or even my parents’ voices. I remember thinking it felt wrong.”
“And then?”
“Nothing.”
She looked down at the sand between the toes of her bare feet.
“I don't remember falling or anything like that—it wasn’t... cinematic. I don't remember specifically leaving that place or my parents. But then, the next thing I knew,” she paused and swallowed. “I woke up alone in the forest. I was eleven years old,” she said absently.
“Scarcely more than a bairn,” he commented quietly.
Avery nodded. She could still recall the bitter cold. “I was freezing. Completely confused and really scared. I started walking, wanting to find my parents. I never saw or found a road or... anything.” She gave a small shake of her head. “But every direction looked the same—trees everywhere.”
She drew a long breath and exhaled. “I don’t know how long I was lost in the forest, but it was really cold.
I think I fell asleep—but maybe that was weakness from hunger or fright.
Later I thought maybe it was hypothermia—I’d learned about that in school only months before.
When a person is too cold, exposed to freezing temperatures, the body begins to shut down, and they lose consciousness.
I think that’s what happened to me.” She chewed her lip for a moment, as hazy memories swirled.
“I was lucky,” she said quietly, “that the man found me. If he’d been even a day, maybe only hours later,” she stopped and shrugged, dismissing the thought.
“I cried for a long time and tried to ask the man what had happened and where my parents were,” she continued.
“But we didn’t speak the same language so he couldn’t help me.
It took me months to learn even a few words from him, he spoke so rarely.
” She shook her head. “Anyway, the man let me stay and he was never mean or cruel—he gave me food and shelter and taught me things. I am grateful for him, truly, but I’ve since understood that the lack of affection was really harmful—not that I blame him, or that it was his fault, but...
I was scared and lonely.” She added after a moment. “For years.”
“And then the man died,” Morggán said.
Avery nodded, pursing her lips. “Yeah,” she said softly.
“I don’t think I was scared anymore, not by then.
I knew the forest like the back of my hand, and he’d taught me everything I needed to know to...
live there. I just... I used to tell myself that I wasn’t lonely, I was just alone, but I’m pretty sure I was just lying to myself.
” She unfurled her legs and put her hands into the sand at her sides, scratching lazy patterns with her fingers.
“And of course, I was still confused. I had no answers about what had happened.” She sighed and watched as Charlie ambled away, toward the water once more, giving chase to three gulls that had landed near the edge of the surf.
“I still miss them—my parents. Every day. And I wonder... what they saw or what happened to them, like, were they moved through time as well?” She turned her gaze to Morggán.
“But I don’t spend every day—not anymore—wishing I weren’t here. ”
He smiled faintly, in recognition of his role in that.
“I grieve that ye lost them, lass,” he said, and winced a bit, “and yet I thank God ye found me... and I ken well how selfish a thought that is.”
She returned his small smile. “I feel terrible, because I feel the same way.” Her lips trembled and she fought back tears. “It's just... ten years is a long time. I still miss them, but grief isn't as sharp as it once was. It's farther away now. I hate admitting that.”
Morggán nodded and they sat in comfortable silence for a while.
Finally, he asked, “Are ye lonely still, love?”
She shook her head without hesitation. “No.” Another sigh was expelled. “I spent ten years hoping to find my way home.”
“Ye dinna wish for that now?”
Avery leaned into him, laying her head on his shoulder. “I think I am home.”
She felt Morggán’s lips brush her hair as he kissed the top of her head.
They sat that way for a long while, saying nothing at all, content to watch the tide creep steadily farther up the shore.
At last, Morggán unfolded himself from the sand and rose, brushing off his hands before offering one to her.
“Come, love,” he said. “Ye’ll have to don the léine and kirtle after all. Lucas Thain is expected this afternoon, and he’s bringing his wife, Cora. From what he’s written, I gather she’s quite anxious to meet ye.”
Avery accepted his hand and then brushed sand from her bottom before slipping her shoes back on with a quiet sigh that made him smile.
Charlie bounded ahead of them toward the path to the keep, stopping every so often to look back impatiently, as if they moved too slowly. The tide continued its slow advance behind them and would eventually erase any sign that they’d sat there.
Avery slipped her hand into Morggán’s, and together they walked home.
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The End