Reunited (Book 2 of Lost Highlander series) (18 page)

Hurriedly, she rearranged them and held out her arm, looking beseechingly at Lachlan. Her blood also had to be shed, but even in her half trance, she was too much of a coward to cut herself. The last time she’d wavered so long, Lachlan had taken the knife from her and neatly sliced her arm for her, apologizing profusely afterwards.

Now he did it without flinching, quickly pressing the edge of his shirt over the cut after a few drops of blood fell on the bones.

Not caring about her arm, she wrenched out of his grasp and started chanting loudly, feeling a whirlwind starting in the very center of her being. The bones began spinning into a new vision, this one a deep black hole that started growing, threatening to swallow them both, and the entire forest along with them.

She stood up as angry sounding words spilled out of her and to her horror, she saw Lachlan start to disappear. She screamed as he lunged across the gaping hole and grabbed her around the waist.

She fell backwards, all the breath knocked out of her as he landed on top of her. With a final scream, and a slicing pain in her head, she blacked out.

She opened her eyes to see a crazed black-haired god towering over her, violently shaking her and … was he crying? He looked very upset.

He was repeating the word Piper over and over again, interspersed with words she didn’t understand. As if to show all the humans in the world how silly they were, a bird flew past overhead, cawing rudely at their ardent little scene.

Something clicked in her head, then something else and she knew she was Piper and it was Lachlan who was shaking her because he probably thought she was dead. She coughed and waved him off of her.

“You’re scrambling my brains,” she said, holding the sides of her head and looking around.

The trees that had been sprouting their new spring growth were now clinging to the last of their fall leaves. There were more evergreens than she remembered, so many she almost felt claustrophobic in their midst. They were several feet from a well worn path that hadn’t been there before. Vines that had hung around her minutes ago were no longer there.

And the bones were gone. She decided not to think about the bones just yet. If it meant collecting new ones for the trip home, there just wouldn’t be a trip home. Nope. She wasn’t going to think about the bones right now.

Lachlan pulled her hands away from her head and kissed both her palms, then kissed her face and her mouth.

“I thought I’d lost ye,” he said, making a noise between a laugh and a sob. “I didna like it.”

Still feeling a bit dizzy and with a ringing in her ears, she pushed herself up to sitting. He jumped up and held out his hand to help her get to her feet.

He gently turned her and a couple hundred yards away she saw a small stone cottage through the trees. An agitated goat was tied up beside it, butting its head on its post. Several chickens scratched in the dirt nearby. She turned back to him and he gave her a dazzling smile.

“I believe we made it,” he said. “Can ye walk?”

 He looked so excited to get to Agnes’ house that she managed to move her feet and return his smile.

Shakily, she followed him as he made his way up to the cottage. He kept a firm grip on her hand and kept pausing every few steps to check on her.

As they got closer she could hear the goat as it butted its head and made irritated goat noises. The chickens scattered when they entered the yard, but quickly calmed down and started rooting for bugs again as if they weren’t even there. Lachlan asked her to wait while he told the herb woman they had arrived.

“She’s never gone forward,” he said in a low voice. “She swore it couldna be done. I dinna think she ever believed me when I spoke of ye.”

He looked like a boy who had managed to complete a challenging dare, and dropped a kiss on her forehead before knocking on the door.

A stout woman with friendly eyes and dark hair shot with gray, flung open the door and teetered out into the yard.

She looked more like someone who would win a blue ribbon for cookie baking than a witch, and Piper was relieved to see that not everyone who mastered the magic of time travel was purest evil.

Agnes patted Lachlan’s cheeks and then shoved him aside to rush over to Piper. She grabbed Piper’s hands and beamed at her, then turned to Lachlan.

“Have ye succeeded then, laddie?” She pulled Piper toward the house. “Is this the lass from the future?”

Lachlan followed them with an indulgent smile on his face. He clearly adored the lady. “Aye, this is my Piper.”

Agnes enveloped her in a hug and motioned for her to have a seat inside the cottage. Piper was grateful to sit as her legs were still shaky from the arrival.

A hot cup of tea appeared before her and Agnes held out a tray of biscuits. Piper took a few and looked at Lachlan, feeling overwhelmed with the welcome. He patted her hand and sat next to her, accepting his own cup of tea, but waving away the biscuits.

“Ye’re truly a Glen?” Agnes asked when she’d settled into a chair across from them. She leaned over and studied Piper’s clothes.

“A bit diluted, but yes,” Piper said.

“Ah, but ye do look like my protégé.” Agnes looked down. “May God rest her.”

Piper realized with a jolt that she was speaking of Daria. She cleared her throat awkwardly and didn’t say anything. Lachlan murmured what may have been agreement, or just comforting sounds. She looked at him questioningly while Agnes kept her eyes lowered and he shook his head.

Agnes must only know that Daria had been killed in the tower fire, but not how far she’d slipped into madness and been the cause of it all. She supposed that Lachlan had wanted to spare the sweet old lady from feeling responsible.

“There is so much more we can learn,” Agnes said after a moment. “The fact that Lachlan found ye is a miracle. I myself have never gone further forward than the amount of time I was gone, and in fact didna think it could be done.” She looked from one to the other. “And to be so precise in the navigation. I have no’ attempted to travel in a long time, but I used to go years from my intended mark.”

“We don’t really know what we’re doing,” Piper admitted.

“The mysteries surrounding it are many,” she said with a nod. “At first I thought I was cursed, then blessed. I thought ‘twas my bloodline, but what then could explain Daria and dear Lachlan here? The nearest we have to an explanation is the land. Perhaps the wee folk used to live here. Fairies, lass,” she explained at Piper’s confused look.

Piper just stared. She knew if she ever really saw a fairy her brain would explode and she’d probably squash it like a bug. She prayed it would never come to that. There was quite enough craziness in her life without the wee folk messing around with her.

“Yes, Lachlan told me he couldn’t travel from the mountains,” Piper agreed.

She nibbled at the crumbly butter biscuits while Lachlan asked if Agnes ever had any knowledge of anyone who was close to her getting sent along for the ride when she did the spell.

“Going back with ye?” he repeated when she didn’t understand. “Not that ye would have done apurpose, mind.”

“You may not have known it was happening, but did anyone just disappear when you used the spell? Anyone at all from the area? We think it happens to people when they’re close by.”

“Close by? I dinna think so. Has it happened to ye?”

Lachlan explained that the first time he was sent forward in time was an accidental byproduct of one of Daria’s spells.

“But Daria does a different spell,” Piper said, looking apologetically at Lachlan.

She didn’t want to break Agnes’ heart by revealing Daria’s evil core, but they needed answers.

Agnes gasped and put her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with fear. “A different spell than the one we use, Lachlan?”

Lachlan nodded slowly and Piper’s stomach started to churn with guilt. She took a fortifying sip of tea, but wasn’t fortified.

“I can’t use the spell that you and Lachlan use,” she blurted. “I had to use Daria’s spell to get here.”

She covered her face with her hands, hiding from Agnes’ horrified look. She must know about the bones.

Agnes crumpled into herself and her spry, cheerful face grew older before their eyes. She sighed and got up, pacing the small area of the sitting room as she spoke.

“In my youth, when I first learned I could travel at will, I sought out others who had the gift. There aren’t many, and even less who go by the means that Lachlan and I do.”

She stopped pacing and clutched at the neckline of her dress as if it choked her. “The others used another means, a darker power. When I shared my simple way, it wouldna work for them either, but they couldna stop.” She looked sad. “It was like a sickness.”

Lachlan helped her back into her chair and patted her hand. Piper shuddered. She thought of all the times she had stared into her wall safe at Daria’s book.

She’d only performed the ritual once, and it had almost consumed her with the need to do it again. And now, knowing she had the power to visit any time she wanted? It would be impossible, unthinkable to never do it again. Was she doomed from the start, born of bad blood? Or would she be okay if she stopped and never looked back?

“But Daria,” Agnes continued in a mournful voice, snapping Piper out of her revery. “Daria could do it our way.” She paused at Piper’s gasp, and nodded. “I saw her myself, when she traveled for the first time, using the herbs and chant. Why would she choose the dark way?”

Agnes sat in her chair, looking to either of them for answers. Lachlan continued to pat her, and Piper pretended ignorance. If she tried to explain the almost addictive allure of Daria’s spellbook, she would certainly lose Lachlan. He could never continue to love her if he knew she had such yearnings. She would continue to fight them, that was all.

“We may never know,” Lachlan said. He furrowed his brow at Piper. “If no one was ever accidentally taken by Agnes’ spell, how did yer man Pietro go missing?”

She shook her head, which was starting to pound. Pietro disappeared at least two full days before she did the spell. She wished Evie was here to hash all this out. Evie would have loved to pick Agnes’ brain and pore over her books.

Looking out the window, she saw the sun was getting low in the sky. It would be dark soon, and Piper didn’t have any idea how long it would take to get to the castle on foot. Now that they were here in the eighteenth century, she was raring to find her ancestors.

She discreetly tugged on Lachlan’s sleeve, nodded to the window and tilted her head to the door. She was antsy from all the unanswered questions, wanted to take action instead of going around in circles with something nobody understood.

As if sensing her distress, Agnes stood up and shook herself off, looking like a fierce, though grandmotherly, warrior.

“Must ye be on yer way?” she asked.

“We’ll no’ make it to the castle before nightfall without a horse, nor to the village for that matter.” Lachlan shrugged. “Shall we stay here for the night, or shall we take a moonlight stroll?”

“Moonlight stroll,” Piper said, looking down at her clothes.

Lachlan looked absolutely perfect for his own time in his kilt. She was wearing jeans, hiking boots and one of Fenella’s fantastic cashmere sweater sets. Nothing about her would fit in here.

Agnes sized her up and wordlessly went into the next room, returning a short time later with an armload of fabrics in varying shades of brown.

“I am none so small as ye, but perhaps we can make it work?” Agnes hopefully handed over the pile of clothes and Piper snorted back laughter at the unwitting eighteenth century Project Runway impression.

Lachlan volunteered to tend to the animals while Piper got changed.

“He’s a good lad,” Agnes said with a warm look at Lachlan. She turned her gaze to Piper. “Ye mustn’t fret about using the other spell, lass. Ye must concentrate on the goodness in yer heart, as I know ye must have or Lachlan wouldn’t be so smitten with ye.”

Piper sighed and blinked back tears. She hoped it was true.

She shed her modern clothes and Agnes handed her the first piece of clothing, a thin ivory shift. It hung on her like a tent and the armholes sagged almost to her waist. Pulling it together around her middle caused it to bunch up uncomfortably and make her look twice her size. When the dress went on over it, she could barely put her arms down there was so much excess fabric gathered together under it.

She sighed and tried not to let her vanity get the best of her, but she’d seen so many lovely paintings of the fashions of this era, she may have pictured herself in something other than an ill fitting wad of itchy brown wool.

This is not important, she firmly reminded herself as she tried smoothing the gathers around her waist. Even Agnes looked a little defeated.

“Perhaps ye don’t need the shift?” she suggested, helping her step out of it. “I shall just lace ye up very tight in the dress and then we shall wrap ye up in an apron.”

When Agnes had done the best that she could, Piper dragged herself outside to show Lachlan the finished product. She turned around and dropped a clumsy curtsy, almost falling over when she tried to see her reflection in the goat trough.