Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
AGNES
“Och, ye’ll take the high road, and I’ll take the low road …” Gnorman stomped forward, somehow carrying miniature bagpipes. Gnora fell into step next to him as the wee hedgies went into formation.
I gaped down at the gnomes, exhausted, freezing, but beyond anything—relieved. I was just so damn relieved.
Gnorman turned around and eyed our group. We were still standing on the icy shores of Loch Mirren, all talking over each other, while Faelan and Shona hovered nervously over Graham.
“Go on then, let’s hear it.” Gnora turned and glared at us.
Gnorman brought the bagpipes to his lips, the sharp sound splitting the skies, welcoming in a new day in Loren Brae.
“They’ve got the right of it,” Ramsay growled. “Go on then. This morning … we celebrate.”
Jubilance washed through me, making me almost giddy, and I hooked arms with Sophie and Lachlan, while Finn and Munroe helped Graham. The rest gathered around us and together, we turned toward the castle and raised our voices.
“On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Mirren …”
We sang the whole way up to the castle, Gnorman leading the way with his wee bagpipe, the familiars falling in line behind him, brought up by our group. Windows opened around Loren Brae, and cheers sounded. Nobody had been immune to the threat of the Kelpies. Word would travel fast.
The plight that had shuttered many businesses in Loren Brae and driven many to leave town had been lifted.
A new day in Loren Brae was dawning, one where children could play on the banks of the loch again, and tourists could once more return to visit our beautiful wee town. It was both an ending and a beginning, and an important moment for everyone who lived here.
Even though Graham was being half-carried, a wide smile creased his handsome face. Faelan walked beside him, her hand pressed to his back, golden threads of healing magick pulsing into his waterlogged body.
“Stop fussing,” Graham muttered. “I’m fine.”
“You drowned,” Faelan said flatly. “Twice in two days. You are the opposite of fine.”
“I didn’t drown. I was temporarily not breathing.”
“That’s what drowning means, you bloody eejit.”
Sir Buster, having apparently decided that the procession wasn’t moving fast enough, came tearing down the slope toward us, his tiny legs a blur of motion, his tartan vest flapping.
He skidded to a halt in front of the lead hedgehogs and began yapping at them with the fury of a dog ten times his size.
“Sir Buster!” Sophie groaned. “We talked about this. The hedgehogs are allies.”
Sir Buster ignored her, continuing his tirade until Lady Lola waddled up behind him and whirled, knocking him back with her fluffy Corgi bottom. Sir Buster looked immediately affronted, but he stopped harassing the hedgies.
“That’s one way to handle it,” Lachlan said.
The castle loomed ahead, its windows blazing with light. Brice was standing in the doorway, wringing his shaggy hands, and the moment he spotted us he let out a shriek of relief.
“The lass! The wee lass lives!” He came pelting down the steps, his patchwork overalls flapping. “I’ll get the blankets. I’ll get the tea. I’ll get the—”
“Whisky,” Lachlan said firmly. “Get the whisky.”
“Whisky! Aye. Right away.” Brice disappeared into the castle in a blur of motion.
“I’m not sure I’ve ever heard him speak before,” I said, gaping at Lia.
“He rarely does. But this seems to be quite the special occasion,” Lia said, beaming. “And, I think we need a massive brekkie to celebrate, eh?”
“I would one hundred percent agree with that,” Luch said.
We filed into the castle and descended into Grasshopper, the only space that could accommodate all of us well enough.
Brice had somehow managed to light every candle, twinkle light, and lamp in the room, turning it into a blaze of light that hurt my eyes after the darkness of the loch.
Hilda marched over to wrap me in a blanket that smelled like lavender and wool.
“You foolish, brave, ridiculous girl,” she said, crushing me against her. “What were you thinking, going to that loch alone? What were you possibly thinking?”
“I was thinking I needed to break the curse.”
“By getting yourself killed?”
“I didn’t get killed.”
“Not for lack of trying!” She pulled back, her eyes bright with tears. “When Quilliam raised the alarm, when we realized you’d gone, I thought—” Her voice broke. “I thought we’d lost you.”
It appeared I’d reached the scolding point of my morning.
“I’m sorry.” The words felt inadequate, but they were all I had. “I’m so sorry. I thought it was the only way.”
“It wasn’t.” Sophie’s voice was sharp, and I turned to find her standing behind me, arms piled with blankets, expression thunderous. “It absolutely wasn’t the only way. We had a plan, Agnes. We were going to face this together. As a team. As an Order.”
“The curse was killing Graham. I couldn’t wait—”
“So you decided to sacrifice yourself instead? That was your solution?”
“I wasn’t trying to sacrifice myself. I was trying to speak the truth.”
“On a tiny island in the middle of a loch full of Kelpies, facing a creature that’s been trying to murder your family for centuries.” Sophie’s voice rose. “Alone. In the middle of the night. Without telling anyone.”
“Ummm.” I had nothing to say to that. What could I say?
Quilliam flew to my shoulder and made a disgruntled noise.
“I’m sorry, Quilliam—”
“Don’t.” His tiny claws dug into my shoulder hard enough to hurt. “Don’t you dare ‘Quilliam’ me. I have been bonded to your bloodline for hundreds of years, Agnes Wright. And you … you are the stupidest, bravest, most self-sacrificing of them all.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“It’s a statement of fact.” His voice cracked. “I thought you were going to die. I thought—”
He couldn’t finish. His small body was trembling against my neck, and I reached up to stroke his scales with fingers that weren’t entirely steady.
“I’m here,” I said. “I’m alive. We did it.”
“We did nothing. You did it. You and your ridiculous heroics and your complete inability to ask for help.”
“I’m working on that.”
“Work harder.”
Faelan had settled Graham onto one of the long benches near the fire, and now she was working on him properly with both hands pressed to his chest, golden threads sinking into his skin, her face tight with concentration.
Gloam, her fox familiar, sat at her feet, his russet fur bristling with anxiety.
“How is he?” I asked, crossing to them.
“Waterlogged and hypothermic. There’s minor damage to his lungs that I’m repairing now. We’ll work on the cuts to his feet after.” Faelan didn’t look up. “He’ll live. Though I could have really done without having to heal him, again, this soon.”
“I didn’t ask him to follow me—”
“Of course you didn’t. Because you didn’t tell anyone you were going.
” Faelan’s voice was terse. “Do you have any idea what it was like, Agnes? Waking up to the Kelpies screaming, hearing you were gone, watching Graham run toward the loch like a man possessed? We thought we were going to find your dead bodies. Both of you.”
Guilt twisted in my gut. I’d been so focused on breaking the curse, on fixing this, that I hadn’t thought about what my actions would do to the people who loved me.
“I’m sorry,” I said again. “I really am. I thought—”
“You thought you could handle it alone. You thought you were protecting us by not involving us.” Faelan finally looked up, her eyes fierce. “Sound familiar? Sound like something you’ve been doing for, oh, I don’t know, years now?”
The words hit like a punch to my gut.
Because she was right. Of course she was right.
I’d spent years pushing Graham away to protect him, and then, at the first real crisis, I’d done the exact same thing to everyone else.
I’d slipped away in the night and faced the danger alone.
Somehow, I’d decided that my sacrifice was worth more than their help.
“Old habits,” I said weakly.
“Break them.” Faelan turned back to Graham. “Now let me work. He’s still got water in places water shouldn’t be.”
I retreated to one of the chairs by the fire, wrapping the blanket tighter around my shoulders.
I couldn’t tell Faelan about my hurt ribs.
The pain would be a reminder for me on not making stupid decisions and leaving everyone behind.
Shona came over and pressed a cup of tea into my hands, her pretty face creased with worry.
“Drink,” she said. “Brice put something in it. Something to help with the shock.”
I took a sip. The drink was warm and sweet and burned slightly going down. Almost immediately, some of the tension in my shoulders began to ease.
“You scared the hell out of us,” Shona said, settling into the chair beside me. “Willow was having visions all night. She kept seeing water and darkness and you standing at the edge of something terrible, I guess. We didn’t know what was going on until the Kelpies started shrieking.”
“I didn’t mean to scare anyone.”
“I know. You meant to save the day all by yourself.” Shona’s voice was dry. “Which is very noble, but also very stupid.”
“So I’ve been told. Repeatedly.” I sighed and took another sip of my tea.
“Good. Maybe if enough people tell you, it’ll sink in.”
Across the room, Lachlan was standing by the window, staring out at the loch. The water was calm, a wash of silver spreading across the surface in the growing morning light.
“Lachlan.” I stood, leaving my tea behind, and crossed to him. “Are you all right?”
He didn’t turn. “The Kelpies. You promise they’re ... different now? Safe?”
“They’re protectors. They always were, but the Beithir used them against their will, unknowingly.
I found Isobel Wright’s diary, and it explained what actually happened in 1746.
Their true purpose was always to guard the Stone.
Now that the Order is complete and the curse is lifted, they will act according to their purpose. ”
“What about all those years they terrorized the loch? What about the people they killed?” His voice was carefully controlled. Maybe a touch too controlled. “My mum?”