Chapter Twenty-Six

The moon was full and high in the heavens when she spotted the great fortress. It sat atop a rolling mountaintop, the stars its backdrop, an endless tapestry of winking lights. One tall, central tower rose up like a beacon in the night, many smaller towers flanking it. She couldn’t see how many there were, but the lights, little flickering dots against the dark stone, lit it up eerily. She could almost smell the fires as the wind whipped down the mountain, the faint smell of freshly baking bread.

Evie had never seen anything like the sky.

The constellations suggested she was on the other plane of existence Alec had described; nothing looked even remotely similar to the Greek figures she had grown up looking toward. No Orion, no Cassiopeia, no Pegasus. These stars charted different stories, different gods. She wanted to know their names, every last one of them, and their stories. She had always loved stories, especially those of times long past. She felt so small, a speck in a vastness greater than she could even imagine. And if what others had told her that was exactly what the Otherworld was: an infinite realm of land and sea and mystery.

She wondered if anyone had ever tried to reach its far corners, or if it was as great as the universe, stretching beyond imagination.

“We’ll be there by the mid-morning meal,” Iain said.

They hadn’t spoken much since leaving the sea fortress. They hadn’t needed to. She wasn’t sure how they had landed themselves in the companionable silence, but the longer it stretched, the more comfortable it became. She hadn’t thought about keeping track with pen and paper until the hours had already flown by, their horses skirting the wood to the north and moving inland. And now, as their journey to Mora was ending, she felt compelled to break their silence. Perhaps it was the funny feeling in the pit of her stomach; the nerves, the fear, the excitement. Or perhaps she was tired of her own thoughts. Her own wonderings of where Alec was and if he would welcome her back with open arms. Or if he would turn away from her after the hurt she caused him.

“Why did we stop before? And for so long?”

“She didn’t want me to bring you to her until you were ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” she demanded.

“I am not privy to her every plan.”

“She has more than one?” she said sarcastically.

“I am but a single needle in the great tapestry she weaves.”

Evie wasn’t sure she didn’t hear a bit of sarcasm dripping from his lips, too.

“And your role?”

He was silent for a moment, the sounds of the night and the thud of hooves on the ground whirling around them. “Damage control.”

She turned to look at his silhouette, his straight nose and strong chin against the backdrop of stars. “What do you mean?”

“I’m the clean-up crew.”

“Does that make me the mess?” she drawled and raised an eyebrow. “Tell me, am I fraternity house vomit or just post-football game litter?”

He shook his head and chuckled. “Yes and neither.”

“Mmm. Dinner dishes?”

He laughed. “Unswept floors, maybe?”

She snorted. “I guess it could be worse.”

“And why was I a mess that needed to be cleaned up?” she pondered aloud.

“Because the one meant to find you and bring you back… failed. Miserably. A couple of times, it would seem.”

She blinked. “Oh. Who was it?”

He gazed up at the fortress. “I think you know.”

She frowned. No, she really didn’t. He couldn’t mean Alec, could he? That made no sense. Alec didn’t want to be anywhere near Mora…

Wait. Alec had thought she was after him, not her. He had said as much. Was it possible he had misunderstood and he had been brought into her service to bring Elizabeth? Perhaps he was bait?

“Why does she want me?”

“Those plans are not mine to tell.”

“But Flora was part of them.”

“Yes.”

“And what was Flora’s role?”

Perhaps if she knew why Flora was brought into the Otherworld, she could figure out what her own role was. The women of Culloden were clearly a piece of whatever was going on. She, Evie, representing Elizabeth Meyner Carlisle. Flora had to be Flora Macdonald. And the third, Lady Anne Farquharson Macintosh. Who was her player?

“She is falling into it.”

Evie rolled her eyes. Why was giving her information so difficult for these people? She tried another tactic. “Owen’s part then?”

She could just make out the lift of his lips in the light of the moon, as though he were proud of her for working it out. “He was merely an insurance policy.”

“An insurance policy for what, though?”

“Something she has been planning for a very, very long time.”

“You’ve been with her for a very, very long time,” Evie pointed out..

“That I have.”

“And what is her plan?”

He shot her a bored look, one eyebrow slightly cocked, his head canted toward her. But his lips were sealed, even if slightly upturned.

Evie groaned in frustration. “You really are no help, you know.”

“I know.”

“About the promise you made…”

He kept staring off toward the castle. It was growing larger, looming over them.

“Will you… get in trouble for helping me?”

He shrugged. “If you want to go.”

“You think I won’t.”

“I do.”

She didn’t want to tell him he was wrong. But she’d been biding her time, only fulfilling her part of the bargain to get back to Alec. It was what kept her going. Especially now that her leg was starting to twinge. Shifting in the saddle she tried to stretch her leg out but failed miserably.

“Will you?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “It’s likely.”

Two heartbeats passed. “How?”

“I’m sure she has a special hole carved into the wilderness just for me.” He chuckled.

“You almost sound as if you like her,” she accused.

“Is that such a bad thing?”

Evie wasn’t sure how to answer.

As they approached the first fiery cresset welcoming them to the enormous fortress, light peeked over the horizon to the east, painting a thin golden line across the mountains, the first fingers reaching toward the citadel.

Closer now, she could make out the smaller towers built into the massive wall. She gazed up at them, guessing they had to be at least ten stories tall, guards patrolling the top of the walls set between them. Ebony colored stone, as smooth and glossy as a mirror, reflected the torchlight. Each massive brick was taller and longer than her horse. The fire eerily bounced off the surface and the fortress glowed in the dawn.

“It’s magnificent, isn’t it?” Iain murmured.

Evie could only nod dumbly.

They travelled up the mountain, drawing ever closer as they took the switchback trails, the torches lighting the way. They settled back into that silence, Evie’s awe sucking the words right out of her. The winds died down, the chirping of birds quieted, even the flames licked with less ferocity. The sun lit the sky by the time they reached the great portcullis, and she wondered if the whole of the sea fortress could sit in the gaping maw of the dark castle.

Soldiers lined the tunnel through the thick outer wall. It was as long as a lap pool, the torches lighting it into a long mirror. Evie couldn’t help but gaze at her form in the reflective black stone. She cut a rather impressive figure, she thought for the first time. Her face had thinned out and her eyes were large and bright. And yet she appeared strong. Powerful. She had never felt strong and powerful anywhere but a library or a classroom. She could have been mistaken for a warrior.

When she turned back to Iain, he was watching her, a knowing smile playing along his lips. He knew what it was like to see oneself for the first time. The surprise. The pleasure. The excitement.

They emerged from the wall’s entrance into the courtyard. It stretched in a wide circle around that central building, the heart of the castle, its tall tower shooting into the fading stars. Its mistress clearly valued the night sky. And a vantage point.

A guard wearing an intricate helmet met them, bowing low before waving over a set of grooms.

Iain jumped down from his mount as one of them took the reins and he circled the horse to come to Evie’s side. She took the hand he offered for support and swung her leg around to drop into the dirt beside him. She realized he made it appear a show of deference to her rather than offering himself as a crutch. But the moment her leg buckled under her weight, she was glad for it. The pain shot through her sore limb and she sucked in a breath.

He leaned in.

“All right?”

She shook her head. “I need a minute,” she said through clenched teeth.

“I will keep saying nonsense until you are ready. Keep your face serious, do not show any sign of emotion or weakness.”

She gave a curt nod.

“They are all watching you. No, don’t look at them. They are beneath you. Remember that. Do not look at them, do not smile at them. You answer only to her. Say something obnoxious if you understand.”

“You’re a bastard.”

“Nice, though not terribly clever.”

She glared.

“Good. You certainly look the part.”

“The part?” she demanded.

“Of Ailsa.”

Before she could question him, he threw his hands up and took a step back, as if she had threatened him.

“Better?” he asked, mouth barely moving.

She pursed her lips, assessed, and faced away from him.

He lowered his hands. “Straight up the stairs into the throne room. Go.”

Evie pivoted toward the main building, carefully, and strode steadily, working through the stitch in her leg. Iain fell in step behind her, and she relaxed her face into an unreadable mask despite the desperate speeding of her heart. She could do this. She just needed to get through this, whatever this was, and then she would be back on her way to Alec.

She replayed their reunion she had been constructing in her head. She would probably cry because she always did. Beg him for his forgiveness. He would be angry. Hurt. And she could swipe at her tears and choke through how much she loved him, but that she was just so unsure of everything.

Yes, that sounded about right. He would forgive her, though. He had to. She just couldn’t imagine a world where he wouldn’t forgive her the time she needed. Granted, she’d spent it in none of the ways she expected, but it had still brought her back to him.

The large double doors swung open, and she trudged into the hall as the sky lightened to a robin’s egg blue.

One step closer to Alec.

His name became her chant. Every step, every painful movement, was a step to Alec.

The hall was vaulted. Black and silver banners, the three rings glinting in the candle light, hung from the arcades. The passage stretched further than the thickness of the outer wall, its white carpet a sharp contrast to the black stone. A dais was surrounded by people in dark clothes, all waiting. Watching her.

Evie swallowed. She was almost there. Almost to Alec.

She glanced up at the dais. Her breath caught in her throat and the dizzying pace of her pulse tripled.

Because, next to the most beautiful woman she had ever seen stood Calum.