The Highlander's Touch

Page 99

“Well?” the Fairy Queen demanded.
“Oh,” she gasped around a swift intake of air, jarred from her thoughts.
“Now,” the Queen pushed.
“I … oh … h-home,” she said so softly that the wind snatched it from her lips and it was nearly lost. But the Fairy Queen heard.
“What of the lord? Do you not wish to say farewell?”
“He is gone,” she said, tears slipping down her cheeks. “He’s on his way to Bannockburn—”
“Bannockburn!” The fairy stiffened, and looked nearly alarmed, although it was difficult to tell in such a face. She clapped her hands, spoke in a language Lisa couldn’t understand, and suddenly the night went mad around her.
The shian glowed, light rushed from within it, and Lisa was treated to a sight few humans ever glimpsed, or lived to tell of.
Fairies by the dozens poured from the shian, bursting into the night, mounted on mighty horses. A tempest blew up around her, tossing leaves and limbs, and the very earth seemed to strain as it loosed its strange cargo—the wild hunt.
“To Bannockburn,” they cried.
She had no idea how long it lasted, the mad surge of exotic creatures rushing by. The ground trembled, the moon hid nervously behind a cloud, even the trees seemed to draw back from the shian. Lisa couldn’t help it—near the end she had to close her eyes.
At last the night was silent and she cautiously peeped at the shian. A man stood there, tall, powerful, with silky dark hair, regarding her.
“They forget the time,” he said dryly. “Edward has more than triple the Scots’ troops, and my people have a vested interest in this battle. Circenn and his men will arrive in time to save the day. My people love to observe mortal triumphs and casualties.”
“Who are you?” Lisa gasped, praying he wouldn’t laugh. Sensuality dripped from the man, a sensuality that nearly competed with the effect Circenn had upon her. If he laughed as the Fairy Queen had, she feared she might lose herself in his seductive madness.
Send her, came the Fairy Queen’s bodiless command. And then you are free to leave my side.
What of my sifting time and weaving worlds? he demanded.
I withhold them still. You are restrained until I otherwise decree, Adam.
Adam made a furious gesture, then returned his attention to Lisa. “It seems your wish has been granted.” The corner of his mouth curved into a mocking expression of displeasure. “And they call me a fool.”
What right do you have to gaze at me with such disappointment? she thought, bewildered. Almost as if he cared. As if he felt she’d made a terrible decision. Then the Fairy Queen’s words sank in: Adam. “But wait—” Lisa began.
She never got to finish her sentence.
“Are you the Adam Black?” she yelled, flooded with murderous rage.
But it was too late. She was …
Falling …
Again …
* * *
Near the Ferh Bog, Circenn doubled over in his saddle and clutched his stomach. Deep rasping breaths exploded from his lungs and he stared into the night with dawning horror Galan and Duncan jerked to an immediate stop at his side.
“What is it? What is it, Circenn? Talk to me!” Duncan yelled. He’d never seen Circenn Brodie’s face so anguished.
“She is gone,” he whispered. “I cannot feel Lisa anymore.”
“What does this mean?” Duncan asked swiftly. “Has she somehow returned to her time?”
Circenn’s gaze was savage. “Either that—or Adam found her.”
“Why didn’t you give her the flask?” Duncan demanded. “Then this couldn’t have happened!”
Circenn nearly lunged from his mount at Duncan. “You argued against it when last we spoke.”
“But that was before Armand—”
“I didn’t have time!” Circenn roared.
“You must go back.”
“She’s gone,” Circenn said through tightly clenched teeth. “If she has left this century, it is too late for me to seek her. If Adam found her, it is too late for me to seek her. Doona you understand—it is one or the other, and either way it is already too late because she is gone.”
He raised his hand and slapped Duncan’s mount on the rump. “Now ride!” he commanded his troops. “Ride and avenge,” he swore softly, knowing that every Englishman who fell beneath his ax or his sword would bear Adam’s face.
THE BATTLE NEAR THE STREAM FROM WHICH IT TOOK ITS name—the Bannock Burn—lasted only two days, but they were two glorious days that resonated throughout the country, from end to end.