Chapter 21 #2
The Kelpies were just as much a part of Loren Brae as anyone else was.
Their history ran deep, if not deeper, than anyone before us.
But as I gasped, and looked around, one thick glimmering thread rose above all of us, and I turned, following it as it connected from the island where the Truth Stone was buried all the way to the shore.
To one woman.
Agnes.
I sucked in a sharp breath. The thread was unlike anything I’d seen before—even with Greta, even with Matthew.
It was braided and shimmering with multiple colors—deep loch blue, molten gold, and moss green.
It twanged with purpose, stretching taut between the island and Agnes’s small, fierce frame at the rim of the gully.
“Agnes,” I shouted.
She startled, one hand flying to her chest. “What? What is it?”
I could barely drag my gaze away from the thread humming above us. Images hit me in flashes of Agnes as a wee girl, toes in the loch, Agnes as a teenager sketching the island from the shore, Agnes in her shop, facing toward the loch.
She wasn’t just part of Loren Brae’s story.
She was pivotal to it.
“Liora?” Zara’s voice came from very far away and very close all at once, layered over the chant still pouring from her mouth. “What do you see?”
“I,” I whispered, eyes locked on the thread, “think we’ve got a bigger problem here.”
“There’s more,” Zara gasped, and I whipped my head back to the loch to see the surface disrupted. “They’ve brought friends. I can only dissuade them so long.”
The water beyond the Kelpies heaved, a swell rising that had nothing to do with wind. The surface bulged, then collapsed inward, then bulged again, as if something colossal was coiling deep below.
The Kelpies tossed their heads and screamed, not in rage this time but in something like exultation.
“Oh, that’s not good,” Kaia shouted. “We need to get them out.”
“What do we do?” Graham shouted, frustration deep in his voice.
The loch answered for him.
A massive ripple rolled outward from the island, waves slapping against the rocky shore. The air dropped a few degrees, a chill sinking straight to the marrow of my bones.
Then the water exploded.
A creature erupted from the depths with a roar that shook the trees.
It was not Nessie. It was worse.
Longer than The Tipsy Thistle and the bookshop combined, its serpentine body was armored in overlapping plates that shimmered like wet slate.
A mane of water and kelp streamed from a crown of horned ridges along its skull, and its eyes glowed a furious, otherworldly teal.
Great fins flared along its spine, each beat sending torrents cascading back into the loch.
Its mouth opened, revealing rows upon rows of needle teeth, and the sound that tore out of it was half dragon roar … half tidal wave.
The beast of all beasts.
The Kelpies reared around it, shrieking in wild joy, as if they’d just called their gigantic, horrifying cousin in for backup.
Beside me, Zara’s chant faltered, her fingers crushing mine so hard my knuckles ground together.
“Well,” I whispered, heart hammering so hard I felt a bit sick. “Bugger.”
Torin’s shout cracked through the chaos—raw, panicked, furious in a way I had never heard from him before.
“Liora!”
I jerked upward, heart seizing.
Torin wasn’t at the top of the gully anymore.
He was moving through the trees.
No—the trees were moving for him.
Branches twisted aside, trunks tilted—curved—as if bending in a bow of recognition. Roots pulled back from the earth and vines untangled themselves from jutting stone. The thick green tangle that had hemmed us in moments ago now opened in a precise, spiraling path like a living staircase.
“Go on, lad!” Lachlan shouted after Torin.
It was impossible not to stare.
Torin descended the steep slope as if gravity had taken one look at him and decided it wasn’t worth the argument. He moved quickly, his boots finding hold after hold with impossible precision. Determination made his face steely.
For a man who claimed not to be magickal, he looked like the forest’s chosen son.
Torin reached us and immediately crouched by my sister. His eyes flicked to her leg and tightened.
“This’ll hurt,” he warned.
“Everything already fecking hurts,” Zara gritted.
He slid one arm under her bum—carefully avoiding her legs the best he could—and braced the other behind her back. With a strength that made Zara gasp and bite her lip, he scooped her into his chest as if she weighed nothing at all. Lia and Shona’s stabilization spell seemed to be working. For now.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” His eyes flew to mine, understanding passing between us. He knew.
I’d always choose for my sister to get out first in times of trouble. Just like she’d do for me, if the situation was reversed.
“I’m coming back for you,” Torin promised, his words cutting through me.
I didn’t say what was in my head. If there was time.
A deep, rumbling growl echoed down the slope behind him.
A wolf sprang neatly down the side of the gully as though the precarious cliffs were mere child’s play for him. Luch, Faelan’s partner, had arrived. I’d been told, in secret, from Zara, of his true identity. At the time, I couldn’t quite bring myself to believe it. But here he was.
A wulver.
Taking in the sight of him, in wolf form, took my breath away.
He stood above me now, hackles raised, golden eyes blazing like torches. He descended fast, then stopped in front of me, massive body turned broadside.
“Luch?” I whispered.
He didn’t growl. He didn’t bare teeth. He simply looked at me—long, direct—and then nudged his shoulder into my side.
Hard.
I gasped. He nudged again. Insistent.
“Oh,” I breathed. “You want me to—”
Another nudge, more forceful.
“…ride you?”
A snort of hot wolf breath hit my face.
“Right. Yes. That’s a yes.”
I scrambled awkwardly up, my stomach pressed against his backside and my arms looped around his neck. My fingers sank into his thick fur and I felt his muscles coil beneath me.
Behind us, the Kelpies screamed—closer now. A wave crashed against the rocks, spraying icy mist.
“Go,” Torin ordered, voice low and fierce. “Get her out. Now.”
The wolf didn’t need to be told twice.
He surged upward, powerful legs launching us up the steep incline in impossible bounds.
I clung to him, breath ripped out of me as branches whipped past and mud spattered my clothes.
Glancing back, I watched as Torin clambered upward with Zara in his arms, taking the same shifting path the trees offered him—a path that revealed itself with each of his steps.
The forest was laying down stones for its king. Amazing.
Above the gully rim, the world had become a battleground.
The entire Order of Caledonia stood arrayed in a defensive crescent.
Sophie was at the front, her dirk gleaming as she held it in front of her, her stance steady despite the shaking earth.
Lachlan was beside her, shield up, eyes murderous.
Lia muttered under her breath, the air around her humming with heat.
Shona’s hands were outstretched, a garden staff raised to the air, vines crawling at her command.
Orla lifted a hammer made of glowing ember-metal, her eyes sharp.
Willow raised glowing sheers. Kaia had a chisel in her hand and an angry look on her face.
Other men flanked them—Finlay, Thane, Ramsay, Munroe—all wide-eyed but resolute.
Familiars filled the rest of the space. The gnomes brandished tiny pickaxes.
Gloam paced, tail puffed. Brice hovered at Lia’s leg, ready to help.
The crow perched atop Kaia’s shoulder, feathers glowing faintly blue.
A cat wound itself between Willow’s legs, its hackles raised.
Bracken raced next to Luch, never leaving my side.
And Clyde floated above them all, bellowing.
The wolf bounded to the edge of the line and stopped, lowering himself so I could slide off.
My legs shook violently when my feet hit the ground.
Turning, I took a step back toward the gully and Torin emerged seconds later, leaping over the rim with Zara in his arms. Agnes rushed to help, guiding him toward Faelan.
But everyone else stared at the loch.
It was impossible not to.
Because the dragon-like creature was still rising.
Its massive head reared higher, plates shining as water streamed down in sheets. Its roar rolled across the shore, rattling stones and making my bones feel hollow.
“Oh,” Lia whispered. “Oh, that’s not just a beast.”
“No,” Sophie breathed, eyes narrowed. “It’s a guardian.”
The water surged again.
The Kelpies threw back their heads and screamed, their voices a chorus of fury and triumph.
The enormous creature lashed its tail, sending a tidal wave surging toward the shore.
“Lock in, ladies!” Sophie shouted, lifting her dirk high.
The Order responded as one.
Shona’s vines shot forward like spears. Willow’s chanting grew louder.
Lia flung a handful of herbs into the wind, flames roaring to life along the ground in a protective arc.
Orla slammed her hammer down, sending ripples of molten magick through the earth.
Faelan’s hands were already around my sister’s leg, her eyes closed as she went deep inside herself.
Agnes stood, frozen, her hands raised in front of her, and her thread flared in my vision again, brilliant and commanding.
The Order’s combined magick met the tidal wave head-on.
Light collided with water.
And the world exploded into sound and energy.
The tidal wave broke against the magickal shield, spraying harmlessly into steam.
The Kelpies shrieked in outrage as invisible forces shoved them backward, hooves skidding on churning water.
The dragon-like creature roared again, the sound echoing off the cliffs—but then its massive head jerked sideways, as if something ancient and unseen had tugged on its reins.
One heartbeat.
Two.
Three.
Then—
With a final, frustrated roar that shook the air, the creature slipped backward into the depths.
The Kelpies followed, sucked into the swirl of receding currents. Their shrieks faded into the loch, swallowed whole.
The water stilled.
The loch became dark and quiet again.
The entire shoreline fell silent except for the ragged sound of our collective breathing.
Sophie lowered her dirk.
“It’s done,” she said softly. “For now.”
“For now,” Lachlan echoed grimly.
Mitch pressed against my leg, as if grounding me.
Torin turned to me, Zara still cradled in his arms as Faelan worked, horror in his expression.
“You all right?” he murmured.
I nodded but couldn’t speak.
Because something deep in the loch stirred.
Something old.
And the glimmering thread above Agnes still hummed, stretched taut toward the island.
We had won tonight.
But the real reckoning had only just begun.
Something was seriously wrong.