Into the Dreaming

Page 5

Still, the king could offer a few suggestions… suggestions he knew his well-trained Vengeance would construe as direct orders. After informing Vengeance—to whom time had little meaning—that the year was 1428, refreshing his knowledge of the proper customs of the century, and giving him a weighty pouch of gold coin, the Unseelie king "suggested," choosing his words carefully:
"Your body will have needs in the mortal realm. You must eat, but I would suggest you seek only bland foods."
"As you will it, my liege," Vengeance replied.
"The village of Kyleakin is near the castle wherein you'll reside. It might be best that you go there only to procure supplies and not dally therein."
"As you will it, my liege."
"Above all else, it would be unwise to seek the company of female humans or permit them to touch you."
"As you will it, my liege." A weighty pause, then, "Must I leave you?"
"It is for but a short time, my Vengeance."
Vengeance took a final look at the land he found so beautiful. "As you will it, my liege," he said.
Jane studied the tapestry, running her fingers over it, touching his face, wondering why she'd never thought to try to create a likeness of him before. What a joy it was to gaze upon him in her waking hours! She wondered where it had come from, why it had been delivered to her, if it meant he really existed out there somewhere. Perhaps, she decided, he'd lived long ago, and this tapestry had been his portrait, handed down from generation to generation. It looked as if it had been lovingly cared for over the centuries.
Still, that didn't explain how or why it had been sent to her. She'd never told anyone about the strange recurring dreams of her Highlander. There was no logical explanation for the tapestry's arrival. Baffled, she shook her head, scattering the troubling questions from her mind, and gazed longingly at his likeness.
Funny, she mused, she'd been dreaming about him for forever, but until now she had never known his last name. He'd been only Aedan and she only Jane.
Their dream nights had been void of small talk. Theirs had been a wordless love—the quietly joyous joining of two halves of a whole. No need for questions, only for the dancing and the loving and, one day not too far off, babies. Their love transcended the need for language. The language of the heart was unmistakable.
Aedan MacKinnon. She rolled the name over and over in her mind.
She wondered and wished and ached for him, until at last, she rested her cheek against his face, curled up, and tenderly kissed his likeness. As she drifted into dreams—in that peculiar moment preceding deep sleep that always felt to Jane like falling—she thought she heard a silvery voice softly singing. The words chimed clearly, echoing in her mind:
Free him from his ice-borne hell
And in his century you both may dwell.
In the Dreaming hast thou loved him
Now, in the Waking must thou save him.
And then she thought no more, swept away on a tide of dreams.
Three
1428
Isle of Skye
When Jane awakened there was a kitten draped across her neck, napping. Paws buried in her curly hair, it kneaded and purred deliriously, its tiny body thrumming with pleasure.
She blinked, trying to wake up. Had there been a kitten in the box, too? she wondered, petting its silky belly, feeling terribly guilty for failing to notice it earlier. How had it breathed in the box? Poor thing must be starved! She thought she might have some tuna in the pantry to give the little tyke. Stretching gingerly, she lifted the tiny creature off her neck and rolled over onto her side.
And shrieked.
"L-l-lake!" she sputtered. "There's a lake in my bedroom!" Three feet away from her. Deep blue and gently lapping at the shore. The shore that she'd been sleeping on.
Stunned, she sat up, performing a frantic mental check. Bedroom, gone. Apartment, gone. Tapestry, gone. Kitten, here. Nightie—
Gone.
"I am so not in the mood for an inadequacy dream," Jane hissed.
Purple flowery stuff. Here. Castle. Here.
Castle?
She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms. The kitten mewed and gave her an insistent head-butt, demanding more belly rubbing. She clutched the tiger-striped kitten and gaped at the castle. It looked very much like the castle she visited in her dreams, except this castle was in near ruin; a mere quarter of it stood undamaged.
"I'm still sleeping," she whispered. "I'm just dreaming that I woke up, right?" She would have been only mildly surprised had the kitten bared pearly teeth and cheekily replied.