Destiny Stone Page 13

  “His Majesty already gave me leave tae accompany ye,” Faing replied, “and Menzies, too. It’s as ye say, lass. This is more important, and ye cinnae go out there alone. It wouldnae do.”

  Hazel couldn’t stop blushing. “Thank you, all of you, and thank you so much for your kindness, Your Majesty. I can’t express my gratitude.”

  “Ye can express yer gratitude by fixing this fabric, as ye call’t. I’ve no notion what ye’re talkin’ aboot, and I dinnae wish fer one. Just get’t fixed any way ye can.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty, I will.”

  “Good, then. Take whate’er ye need from the Royal armory.” He turned away.

  Hazel looked around at the little party. She couldn’t ask for better companions, now that Fergus was gone. She pushed him out of her mind. She couldn’t count on him. She only wished she had his sight right now.

  She and the men migrated out of the room into the hall, where she stopped to face them again. “All right. I guess this is it. Do you men have all the gear you need? We can take a few hours to arm before we leave.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Faing told her. “What about ye, lass? Ye’ll need arms, too.”

  She smiled at him. “I don’t need arms. My powers are all the arms I need in this fight. I only wish we had a seer with us to tell us where to go.”

  “Ye do,” Faing replied. “I’m a seer.”

  Hazel’s head whipped around. “You are?”

  He nodded. “I ha’e been one since I was a lad.”

  “Really? Can you see the Stone of Scone from here?”

  “Aye,” he replied. “It’s in Castle Loch Nagar. I couldnae see it afore, but just the last few days, it appeared as ne’er before. I cinnae explain it.”

  “Never mind,” Hazel told him. “Now see if you can spot Fergus.”

  He returned her gaze without flinching. He didn’t go into a glazed-over trance the way Fergus did. He kept his same expression. “I cinnae see him anywhere. Where’er he is, he’s hidden.”

  “Okay. Never mind him, either. It’s the curse we have to deal with right now.”

  Faing cocked his head. “Lassie?”

  “Yes?”

  “Ye keep speakin’ on this fabric. Cinnae ye simply fix it? Cinnae ye repair it with another fabric o’ the same kind?”

  “I thought of that, but it’s not the usual fabric we’re talking about. The fabric is…. well, it’s reality. That’s all I can understand about it. Think about these holes that keep appearing and the tissue around them as the fabric. How could I repair that?”

  The men exchanged glances. “Ye repaired the hole afore. Can ye no find a fabric in the same way?”

  “Maybe. The problem is I can’t get back there except through one of the holes.”

  “Is that true?” Faing asked. “When ye repair it, ye’ll no need a hole tae travel through.”

  “When I repair it,” she returned, “I won’t travel at all. I’ll be back in my own country with no way to get back through.”

  He nodded, and no one said any more. What else could they say? Something tugged at Hazel’s mind and body, and she felt the now-familiar compression of the Faery world spitting her out onto the surface of the Earth.

  The soil closed around her head. For a moment, it blocked up her nose and mouth and eyes. The next instant, she emerged on the grass of a Faery mound in some nameless forest. She wasn’t anywhere near Urlu. That’s all she knew.

  These mounds dotted the Earth on every continent, in every country. Faery could drop down into their own world and reemerge somewhere on the opposite side of the planet in seconds. She could drop down into Faery, stay submerged for years, and come back up at the same instant in time she left.

  The men popped up in front of her. They scanned the surroundings and nodded. They arranged their scabbards on their belts. “Well, Faing?” Hazel asked. “Where do we go first?”

  Before Faing could answer, a huge hole exploded open right in front of their faces. No rumbling noise announced it before it burst open in sudden fury. It popped open so fast it jerked Faing off his feet. He sailed away from Hazel so fast his feet left the ground. He cried out and plunged headfirst toward the hole.

  Hazel screamed at the same moment. Her hand shot out. She caught him by the ankle just in time to hold him back, but she couldn’t hold him for long. Alasdair and Athol whirled around, and Sinclair drew his sword. He charged toward the hole to attack the first tentacle that came into view.

  Hazel wrestled Faing to the ground and lunged to stop Sinclair. “No, Alasdair!”

  He bellowed at the hole in a rage.

  “Stand back, Alasdair!” she cried. “Don’t go near it.”

  “I’ll gi’e it a piece o’ me steel!” he snarled.

  Hazel jumped in front of him. “Stop. Don’t go near it. If you get taken, we have no way of getting you back. Just stand back. I’ll handle this.”

  He didn’t move. Hazel faced the hole. She walked toward it. It no longer scared her, now that she knew what she would find when she got there. She stopped at the opening and looked down in the swirling colors until the cabin by the lake reappeared.

  Just for a fleeting instant, she hesitated to go down there. Her heart ached to stay there forever. When she got there, she didn’t want to return. Life could be so sweet and simple and quiet and uncomplicated there.

  The next moment, her resolve hardened. She couldn’t enjoy the place with rot eating away at its insides. She could never rest there. The mice turned her stomach. She had to get rid of them somehow.

  She put her arms into the hole and dived. She drifted down and landed by the lake as usual, but this time, she didn’t hang around to admire the view. She had a job to do. She marched straight upstairs and took hold of the quilt.

  She took a deep, quick breath. She had to act fast, and she didn’t like the idea of what she had to do. She gritted her teeth. She would have closed her eyes, but she needed them. Her heart stood still in her chest. She jerked back the quilt and grabbed the first squirming body she could get hold of.

  The mouse gave a wriggle against her palm. The next instant, it lay still and Hazel catapulted backward. She smashed down the stairs, through the door, over the lake and into the clear sky. The next thing she knew, she stood on the grassy mound with Faing, Athol and Alasdair staring at her in wonder.

  “Awright, lass?” Faing asked.

  Hazel stared down at her fingers clenched around the tiny object. Her heart pounded so hard she had to pry her fingers open with her other hand. A cold, hard, round grey stone nestled into her palm. It couldn’t be deader if she wanted it to be.

  Faing bent over it. “Is that’t?”

  Hazel nodded. She couldn’t get her voice to work.

  Athol raised his eyebrows. “Weel, that’s summat, an’t it? See? Night’s comin’ on. Let’s make a camp and see what’s what.”

  Hazel couldn’t move. The men made camp in the trees within sight of the mound. The party hadn’t moved more than a few paces, and Hazel made no progress toward solving this curious curse mystery.

  When the fire crackled and sparks ascended to the darkening sky, Faing sat down next to her. She rested her hand on her lap and stared in idiot stupefaction at that stone. It told her nothing. It got her no closer to fixing the quilt.

  “May I hold it, lass?” Faing asked.

  She dropped it into his palm. “Be my guest.”

  He gripped it tight and closed his eyes.

  “Can you see anything?”

  He sat silent for a moment. All of a sudden, a shudder passed through him. He jumped back with a yowl. He tossed the stone away and yanked his hand back.

  “What’s wrong?” Hazel asked. “What did you see?”

  “I didnae see,” he replied. “It squirmed in me hand like a mouse.”

  “It is a mouse,” she told him. “They’re all mice. The mice are eating away the fabric. That’s the problem. What we need is a way to get rid of them and repair the fabric. Can y
ou see that?”

  He shook his head. “I cinnae see naught when I look at’t.”

  “Why not? You can see everything else.”

  “I cinnae see Cameron,” he pointed out. “He’s behind a screen, and this is, as weel.”

  Hazel frowned. “How is that possible? How can I not repair a curse that came from me?”

  “Ye can repair it,” Faing replied. “It’s I that cinnae see. Ye’ll find a way and do it. I’ve no doubt o’ that.”

  “But how?” she asked.

  “Ye brought this mouse out wi’ ye,” Faing replied. “The hole closed the instant you brought it out. You mun’ be able tae tak ’em all out. Mightn’t ye?”

  “I guess I could try, but it would take too long to bring them all out one at a time.”

  “Then dinnae bring ’em out one at time,” he told her. “Bring ’em out all taegether.”

  “How am I supposed to do that?”

  Faing laughed. “Take a cat down wi’ ye. How should I ken how tae do it? Ye’re the witch ’ere, no me.”

  Hazel bit back a smile. “That’s funny.”

  “Funny, maybe. It just may work. Perhaps there’s a way tae remove the mice and repair the fabric withoot taking a cat. Trap ’em or summat. I dinnae ken. I’m just blowing me whistle spout ’ere, lassie.”

  She gazed into the fire again. “They must have gotten in somehow. Even if I removed them and repaired the fabric, others may get in the same way.”

  “And that’s what ye want, an’t?”

  Hazel’s eyes shot to his face. “What?”

  “Ye want tae repair the fabric withoot lifting the curse. Am I right?”

  Hazel slumped back against a tree. “Yeah. It is.”

  She lapsed into thought, and Faing said no more. There must be a way to repair the quilt and stop the mice destroying the fabric of reality without sending herself and her friends back to America. Once she found a way to repair the quilt and keep the mice out, she could maintain it. Whatever the curse was, it let those mice into the cabin. It got them infesting the quilt in the first place.

  None of this made sense, and in another way, it all made perfect sense. The cabin might be a dream in which she saw reality a different way. On the other hand, it might be an alternate dimension in which reality became a quilt eaten by mice. Either way, the same problem presented itself.

  She closed her eyes. If only she had Fergus’s vision, she could see the answer. No, she couldn’t. Faing had Fergus’s vision, and he couldn’t see the answer. Something masked it.

  Hazel sat bolt upright. Why hadn’t she thought of this before? Fergus was masked, and the curse was masked. The same force must be stopping Faing from seeing both. If she found Fergus, she would find the secret to lifting the curse—or getting rid of the mice, or whatever it was she had to do. The veil would fall away and she could see.

  Chapter 19

  Fergus woke up in the large white bed in his room in Loch Nagar castle. He climbed out of bed and padded naked to the window. Fluffy white clouds reflected on the lake’s smooth surface.

  The mountains all around appeared more hospitable than the last time he saw them, when the hole first transported him and Hazel here. That memory sparked no emotion in him. He remembered it, but he experienced no compulsion to see Hazel or anyone else he knew. He remembered his brothers back in Urlu, but he suffered no pangs to return to them, either.

  A powerful barrier cut him off from his old life. He couldn’t put his finger on the exact moment it happened, but the prospect didn’t disturb him in any way. He took for granted that he would stay here from now on.

  Voices rang down the hall outside his room. He turned around to see Althea standing against the opposite wall. He kept his back to her when he got out of bed, so he didn’t see her until now.

  She looked his naked body up and down, but he faced her without modesty. Her gaze fit into the overall pattern of the life he came to expect in this castle. “Where’d ye come from?”

  “I’ve been here all along,” Althea replied. “I’ve been watching you sleep, but you didn’t see me when you woke up. I didn’t sneak up on you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “I’m no worried aboot’t,” he replied. “I dinnae care what ye’re doin’ ’ere. If you wish tae spend yer time watchin’ me sleep, I’ll no try tae stop ye.”

  “Come downstairs,” she told him. “We can take breakfast on the terrace.”

  He returned to the bed and pulled his shirt over his head. “Who’re those people outside?”

  “They’re my servants,” she replied, “but you won’t see them yet.”

  “Why no?” he asked. “Are they under an enchantment like the people in Angus’s castle?”

  “They aren’t under any enchantment,” Althea told him. “You are.”

  “I!” Fergus cried. “Would ye enchant my affection? I’m surprised at ye.”

  She indulged in a gentle smile. “It’s only for a little while until you come to understand our ways. When you’re ready, you’ll see them.”

  “I think I ken yer ways weel enough as it is,” he returned. “I dinnae wish tae live alone in a castle wi’ ainly one other person. I like people around me. I like to see ’em go aboot their business.”

  “You will,” she promised. “Just a little longer. If you still feel that way afterwards, you can see as many people as you like.”

  “Is it some kind o’ test?” he asked.

  “It’s not a test,” Althea replied. “Call it a precaution. People don’t come here often, especially not the way you did. If you decide to stay….”

  “I already decided tae stay,” he interrupted. “I dinnae need tae think aboot it any lainger. If that’s yer worry, I can tell ye…”

  She shook her head. “If you decide to stay, it’s all the more important that you transition into the life of this castle in the right way. It won’t take long, and then you can travel around at will and interact with anyone you please. I promise you that.”

  He buckled on his kilt and sporran. “Awright. If it’ll make ye happy, I suppose I can put up wi’ it fer a wee while. Just dinnae drag it out too laing.”

  “I won’t.” She crossed to the door. “Are you ready to come down for breakfast?”

  He frowned, but he didn’t frown at her. He frowned to himself. Some thought tumbled around in his mind, and he struggled to make sense of it. He’d been on the cusp of calling her ‘lass’ or ‘lassie’, but something stopped him. He couldn’t call her either of those names, no matter how much he wanted to.

  Neither of those names fit her, and it had nothing to do with her age. He called a lot of people by those names. Come to think of it, he never called Hazel by her name to her face in all the time he’d known her. He used the name in conversation with others, but he always called her ‘lass’ or ‘lassie’ to her face.

  He couldn’t do that with Althea. He held her in a different esteem. That must be the reason. She could never be a ‘lass’ to anyone.

  The next moment, his vision cleared. He settled his plaid across his shoulder and followed Althea out of the room. They returned down the long curving passage to the same empty hall where they breakfasted together. Althea bestowed her benevolent smile on him while he ate and drank. Her hand glided across the table to entwine with his.

  After breakfast, they took a walk in the garden. Fergus studied the plants. “How do ye grow such a wide variety o’ plants in this climate? Some o’ these I ha’e ne’er seen afore. I ne’er thought they could grow up ’ere.”

  “How do you know so much about plants?” Althea asked. “I thought you were a….”

  “A what?” he demanded.

  “I don’t know,” she replied. “I thought you wouldn’t be interested in that sort of thing.”

  “I learned from me faither growin’ up,” Fergus told her. “He apprenticed wi’ the auld Druids livin’ around our territory when he was a boy, and he was allus growin’ some such unusual plant. I
ne’er thought lettuces and berry bushes would thrive in this climate.”

  “I help them along,” Althea replied. “It sounds like you and I have a lot in common. I learned from my father, too. He kept this castle, and he always grew a large garden full of all kinds of plants. He grew them as medicines and foods, and as ingredients for spells.”

  “So ye use yer power tae protect ’em from the weather?” Fergus asked.

  “Not just the weather. I protect them from every threat, whether it’s weather or low-flying dragons, or anything else.”

  Fergus started out of his reverie. “Dragons?”

  “Yes. We get them flying over, and sometimes different forces attack this castle. For some reason, they always manage to hit the garden.”

  He studied her for a long moment. Why did she mention dragons? The next instant, he shrugged it away. She didn’t mean anything by it. She was talking about plants, not Urlus. Maybe she didn’t even know he was one. No, that couldn’t be right. He arrived at her castle in his dragon form, and her magical defenses captured him and brought him here in the first place. She knew all about Angus and the Phoenix Throne.

  She woke him from his thoughts by slipping a hand through his arm. “You’re miles away. Where are you?”

  He patted her hand. “I’m right ’ere. I was ne’er anywhere else.”

  There, it happened again. He almost called her ‘lass’ and stopped himself at the last moment. Something caught in his throat when he tried to say the word.

  He brushed that thought aside, too. She was just as good and kind and attentive as Hazel ever was—if not more so. He could divine no reason not to esteem her. Her beauty filled his whole mind and spirit to bursting with bright colors and enthusiastic ideas. He wanted nothing more than to build a deep and connected life here with her.

  They strolled through the beautiful gardens in the bright sunshine. He saw no people or Burgees or anything to give him any pause. He admired everything he saw—Althea most of all.