Destiny Stone_A Scottish Highlander Time Travel Romance Read online

  Contents

  TITLE PAGE

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Thanks For Reading

  DESTINY STONE

  PHOENIX THRONE BOOK THREE

  HEATHER WALKER

  Copyright © 2018 Heather Walker

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

  Chapter 1

  Hazel Green closed her eyes and turned her face up to the sun. A fresh warm breeze blew off the forest to wave the colored flags over the Urlu castle in the distance, but Hazel didn’t look at the castle. The scenery all around gave Hazel no peace.

  She didn’t get a chance to relax before footsteps caught her attention from behind. It could only be one person. Carmen never left Hazel alone outside the castle for long. The rare times Hazel went off alone, Carmen always came to find her.

  Carmen never failed to be kind and helpful to Hazel, but she couldn’t stop Hazel from seeing her true feelings. Carmen would rather be anywhere rather than babysitting Hazel. Everybody would, and their other friend, Elle Watson, barely gave Hazel any consideration at all. She remained civil and friendly, but if Hazel wanted to become a hermit, Elle wouldn’t stop her.

  The footsteps entered the clearing by the river where Hazel sat on the grass, but she didn’t turn around. She clipped her words over her shoulder. “I know the sun is going down. I was just on my way back. You don’t have to supervise my every move.”

  No one answered her. The footsteps stopped some distance back. That wasn’t like Carmen at all. Hazel glanced over her shoulder to see young Fergus Cameron standing there. She whipped back around fast, but the sight of him still burned into her brain.

  Fergus gazed at her with his deep, clear black eyes. He always wore an expression somewhere between wide-eyed wonder and trance-like stupefaction, but Hazel learned, just like everyone else in Urlu, to look beyond the surface. Nothing existed on the surface with Fergus. His soul dwelled deep beneath the exterior in an inner world of mystery and power.

  Hazel’s heart beat faster. She couldn’t talk to him, but she knew better than to wait for him to leave. He might not have come to find her. He might have just happened upon her in the forest. He ventured out alone all the time. He spent almost as much time alone in this forest as he spent training with the Guard and helping his oldest brother Angus rule the country.

  The Cameron brothers, Carmen, Elle, Angus’s best friend Ewan Munro—the whole party that won the castle and the Phoenix Throne—they all had better things to do than worry about Hazel. Only Fergus paid any attention to her, but she couldn’t appreciate his consideration.

  Those eyes of his looked far beyond the surface to the deepest places in her soul. Fergus never saw the surface. That’s what made him so terrifying. He insisted the same power lurked inside Hazel, a power she dared not acknowledge even to herself.

  What could she say to him now? Her mind raced for some way to get rid of him, but that was never Fergus’s way. Chit-chat and pleasantries never worked on him. Only the forgotten depths of human consciousness and energy would do for him.

  She dared not speak of those things. Hazel tinkering with mystical powers she didn’t understand got her and her friends transported to this strange world in the first place. All her efforts to rectify her mistake either backfired in the most disastrous way or came to nothing. As long as Hazel and her friends remained in Urlu, the curse still hung over the castle. It was only a matter of time before some demonic force attacked again.

  She couldn’t think of one intelligible thing to say to Fergus now. That was another problem she couldn’t solve. She never managed to thank him for helping her get rid of the last incursion of ghouls to threaten all their lives. She tried a thousand times to say it, but she couldn’t get the words out.

  How could you talk to a guy who was really a dragon underneath his sturdy body, long black hair, and chiseled handsome features? That layer stayed hidden below Fergus’s exterior, too. when she looked at him, she saw a dragon. She couldn’t stop herself. All the Urlus were dragons.

  On the outside, they looked handsome and stately and forthright, the Cameron brothers most of all. Angus was their King, after all. Underneath, they were serpents. They could unfurl their wings and breath fire at will. How could anybody relate to them? Carmen and Elle married Urlus. They insisted Robbie and Angus were the best men they ever met, and who was Hazel to argue with that?

  Sure, Fergus was handsome and stately and forthright on the outside, too. Heck, he was even handsome and stately and forthright on the inside, right down to the deepest level where Hazel read his inmost thoughts. He was still a dragon. She could never get over that.

  Her confusion reached an uncontrollable apex when he walked across the clearing and sat down next to her. He always did stuff like that. He always tried to talk to her and include her in whatever was going on, but his attention only flustered Hazel more.

  She cast a quick glance at him and immediately looked away. Yes, he was just as handsome and stately and forthright as ever. He wore his usual Cameron tartan kilt with the plaid slung across his shoulder over his plain white shirt. These Camerons never changed their stripes. Angus becoming King didn’t change their nature. They were all as steady, decent, and hard-working as ever.

  Fergus adjusted the saber hilt at his waist and settled himself on the grass next to her. Hazel gazed up at the sky like she was just as peaceful and relaxed as she was before he showed up. She sighed, but it didn’t steady her nerves at all.

  “Did ye ken there’s a Faery mound o’er there behind that spinney o’ fir trees?” he asked.

  He always started up a conversation with her like they’d been chatting for hours. Maybe in his secret world they always had been. She had no idea what went on in his mind.

  He never paid any attention to her silences. He kept talking in reply to the answer she hadn’t given. “Ye ought tae come o’er and ha’e a look some time.”

  “I’ve been over there behind that spinney of fir trees,” she blurted out. “There’s nothing but a grassy hill.”

  “That’s the Faery mound,” he told her. “Ha’e ye ne’er seen the faeries dancing on moonlit nights?”

  “I’ve never been out here on a moonlit night,” she muttered. “That’s the time most people spend asleep in bed. Don’t tell me you come out here on moonlit nights.” />
  “Aye,” he replied. “All the time. I wouldnae miss it. It’s a sight tae see. Ye ought tae come some time.”

  “I’m sure the Faeries wouldn’t appreciate that,” she returned.

  “They wouldnae mind. Ye’re Faery, same as me.”

  Her head whipped around fast. “What?”

  “Ye ken it as weel as I,” he returned. “Ye’re no surprised tae hear it spoken aloud. Allus time I thought ye were out ’ere communin’ wi’ the Faeries the same as me. Dinnae tell me ye were runnin’ from ’em when they ha’e been waitin’ fer ye tae come alaing.”

  She couldn’t say a word. She couldn’t get her mind to function. What in the world was he trying to say? It made no sense, and yet some part of her knew it all along. She had some magic power, even if she didn’t want it. She must be the same kind as he was. They must be the same kind as…something. In some weird dimension of reality, all this magic and spells and stuff must be normal.

  She couldn’t imagine that, no matter how hard she tried. It wasn’t possible. All her life, she only ever wanted to be normal. She wanted to be just like everybody else. She broke her heart trying, but it never worked.

  How could she listen to this handsome dark-haired young man who wanted her to believe she never would be? Then again, how could she deny the truth of his statement? If anybody knew, it must be him.

  “Ye mun’ come and ha’e a look,” he repeated.

  Her eyes crept to his face. “What’s it like?”

  “The dancing, or the mound?”

  “Both. All of it. What have you seen out there in the moonlight?”

  “Weel, they’re just people, the same as ye and me. They ken how tae throw a party. I’ll gi’e ’em that much. They string lights all o’er the grass, and they ha’e the best food and wine ye e’er tasted—e’en better than Angus’s—though I ne’er tell him that.” He chuckled.

  She found herself falling into his eyes so she couldn’t look away. “What do they look like—I mean, are they tiny or something? Can you understand their language?”

  “Oh, aye,” he replied. “I mean, they speak the same language as ye and me. They an’t tiny, though. They’re normal sized. All Faeries are, I guess.”

  Hazel’s curiosity overcame her reticence. “Where do they come from? Where do they live?”

  “Under the mound, o’ course,” he replied. “Their castle is under there, but they come out fer their parties, and tae meet their kin on the surface. That’s what they told me, anyway.”

  “You talked to them?”

  “Oh, aye, all the time. I ne’er talked tae anyone the way I talked tae them. My brothers—I mean, I love ’em and all, but they dinnae understand. Ye ken it, too. They an’t Faery, kinda like ye and yer friends. They cinnae understand that world.”

  “What makes you think I’m…. I’m one of them?” She didn’t need to ask, but the words sort of fell out by themselves.

  He didn’t have to answer, either. He only shook his head a little and got to his feet. “Come alaing, and I’ll show ye.”

  He didn’t wait for permission. He took her hand and raised her to her feet. For some reason she couldn’t understand, they set off through the trees—not toward the castle that was their home—but the opposite way.

  Chapter 2

  Fergus trailed through the forest, beyond the fir spinney, to the big grass-covered hill beyond. He didn’t stop at the base. He hiked to the top, where he and Hazel surveyed all the land around the castle. The plains stretched between the milk-grey walls to the river. The forest bordered the mountains rising into the twilight sky.

  The breeze blew through Hazel’s hair. Fergus watched her from the side. He observed the passage of thoughts and emotions tumbling across her face. Now that he mentioned it and brought it to her attention, she noticed the hazy dream-mist of magic and unseen forces inhabiting this land—and not the fearsome wraiths, witches, and ghouls.

  He knew her well enough after so many months living in the same castle, seeing her every day and talking to her as much as he could. Every time he tried to engage with her, she appeared different to him. She took on different colors and casts and moods, all with the same long red hair, the translucent ivory skin, and the willowy curves under her dress.

  She fascinated him in ways no other woman ever had. He could watch her and study her expressions, the twitching changes of emotion crossing her face, subsiding to nothing, and reemerging as something different.

  The sky turned deep purple-blue. Stars sparkled in the east while the west remained fuzzy green and gold. An enormous burnished moon drifted over the horizon to cast the countryside in smooth light.

  The pair stood on the mound, hand and hand, until magical tranquility draped over the land. It blanketed all the fear and pain and uncertainty of the past several months until Fergus couldn’t really remember it very well. He and Hazel existed somewhere apart from all that. No one could understand it. He couldn’t understand it himself.

  Hazel’s eyebrows quivered when she glanced at him. She could see he was an Urlu, a dragon, a disgusting serpent. She even saw the blue dragon hidden under his skin, but the dragon no longer disturbed her. She accepted it as a fact. He was a man like any other.

  She turned her face into the wind. Peace and happiness relaxed her shoulders. The stiffness drifted out of her limbs and back. The moon hovered a little higher. Its mellow light filled the country with its gentle rays.

  Fergus gave her hand a tug. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  “Where are we going?”

  Fergus strolled down the other side of the mound. When they turned around, Hazel saw the lights bobbing over the grass. They twinkled and danced and illuminated a halo of light in the gathering darkness.

  The closer they got, the louder the music became until Fergus and Hazel entered the circle of gay celebration. Music from the midst of the festivity sounded loud enough to be heard across the mound. Fergus heard it in the clearing, but Hazel heard it for the first time now.

  Crowds of people in magnificent costumes filled the circle of lamplight. Couples danced and mingled over the short-trimmed grass. Tables loaded with food surrounded the scene, and fountains of wine tinkled in between. Ice sculptures gleamed in the sparkling light.

  Hazel stared all around her in wonder. No matter what Fergus told her, she couldn’t believe all these people they came from a castle hidden under the mound. In spite of everything she learned and saw and experienced, she wouldn’t accept what was happening right in front of her eyes.

  A tall man in a fancy kilt of deep blue with bands of deep green strode out of the crowd. His ornate sword grip caught the lamplight, and a jeweled dagger stuck out of his sock. His sporran tossed against his thighs when he moved.

  He walked right up to Fergus and stuck out his hand. “There ye are. I kenned ye’d show up ’ere sooner or later.”

  Fergus laughed and shook the man’s hand. “It’s no as easy as ye think tae get away from Angus. He’s a brutal taskmaster if I ha’e e’er seen one.”

  The stranger cast a sidelong glance at Hazel. “And ye brought a guest wi’ ye, too. This is a treat.”

  Fergus waved at Hazel. “This is ’Azel Green.” He turned to Hazel. “This is Athol Menzies, o’ the Black Watch.”

  Athol took Hazel’s hand and pressed his lips against her knuckles. “And she’s one’ o’ us, too. Weel done, lad. Ha’e ye heard the King is wi’ us tonight? No doubt ye’ll meet him. He’ll wisht tae meet the brother o’ the King o’ the Urlus.”

  Fergus blushed. “I’m the least o’ his brothers—weel, second least, that is. I’m no ’ere as his emissary, if that’s what the King wants.”

  “Ne’er ye mind. Ye’re an Urlu. That’s all that matters.”

  “Tae what do ye owe the honor o’ a Royal visit?” Fergus asked. “What’s the occasion?”

  Athol leaned closer and murmured in his ear. “Ye want tae ken what I think? I’ll tell ye anyway. I think he’s ’ere tae see you.”<
br />
  “Me?” Fergus gasped. “He wouldnae come tae see me. That’s impossible.”

  Athol nodded. His cheeks glowed into his young friend’s eyes. “Aye, lad. It cinnae be anything else. Do ye ken this mound has been ’ere for seven thousand years, and the King ne’er attended one o’ our parties yet? It’s ye, lad. The Urlus are restored, the King sits on the Phoenix Throne, and lo and behold, a member o’ the royal family is one o’ us. It all makes sense.”

  Fergus shook his head. “It cinnae be. I cinnae accept it.”

  “Ye’ll see, lad.”

  “Then ye mun’ tell him I’m no ’ere for the Urlus,” Fergus insisted. “Ye mun’ tell him I just wandered o’er the hill for a lark. I ne’er meant tae be any kind o’ ambassador on behalf o’ the Urlus.”

  Athol clapped him on the shoulder. “Ye are an Urlu, lad. Ye’re the ainly Urlu as comes tae visit us, so ye mun’ be our ambassador.”

  Fergus cast a sidelong glance at Hazel. “Ye mun’ tell him, mon. You mun’….”

  Athol burst out laughing. “I cinnae tell him naught, lad. If he picks ye tae represent yer people, ye mun’ do the job. Ye sit on your brother’s councils, don’t ye? Aye, ye told me ye did, so that makes ye the perfect ambassador.”

  “Ambassador!” Fergus snorted. “Spy, more like.”

  Athol shook his head, but he wouldn’t stop smiling. “Just remember, ye’re the one as said it, no me.”

  Fergus rushed up to the man and seized his hand. He hissed in Athol’s face. “Wheesht, mon! ’Ere he comes!”

  The entire company fell silent and parted to make way for a group of people entering from the woods. People dressed even more splendidly than the rest formed a procession into the lighted party. A tall, slim man wearing a scarlet cape lined with white ermine and a heavy golden crown led the parade. A lady in a sweeping scarlet gown and a white silk sash across her breast rested on the King’s arm.

  The King wore a red kilt with swaths of green, lined with white, yellow, and blue. Fergus sucked in his breath. The King wore the Royal Stewart tartan. Fergus never expected to be in such royal company. Angus being crowned King of the Urlus was one thing. He would always be plain old Angus, even in his crown and decorations of state.