Her surprise was obvious. Cináed watched Gemma carefully. She didn’t look as if she were about to bolt, but she did look as if her world had been turned on its side.
He would’ve laughed at the entire scenario if it wasn’t such a tangled situation. It was obvious that Gemma hadn’t completely believed he could do magic. Everything could have gone to shite. Somehow, it hadn’t.
Gemma hadn’t taken her eyes from the rose. Cináed wasn’t sure why he had chosen that color or flower. It just seemed to suit her.
“Roses are my favorite,” she murmured.
“We should get inside before the weather reaches us.”
She nodded absently and turned toward the cottage. Cináed made sure she stayed with him as he walked to the dwelling. As he approached, he unlocked the wards around the house that would let them in.
He opened the door and stepped aside, sweeping his arm to indicate she should enter. Gemma paused and frowned at the door. She looked from the door to him.
“You don’t keep it locked?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Magic.”
She said no more as she entered the house. While she spent a few minutes looking around the simple cottage, Cináed checked the wood stacked in the fireplace and found the matches.
He wasn’t sure why he’d told her he could do magic. Maybe it was because he wanted her to know his secret. It was a huge chance he’d taken. She was barely holding things together as it was, and he’d just made things worse by showing off in front of her.
Because that’s exactly what it had been. He wanted to be special in her eyes. He’d gotten his wish, but it was anyone’s guess how this could turn out.
“Why not use magic?” she asked.
“I usually only do that when I have to. Occasionally, I’ll use it for something like lighting fires.”
“Like growing a rose?”
He looked up at her from his place squatting on the floor. “Something like that.”
She had yet to set down the flower. Cináed was ready to tell her he would give her a rose every day if she wanted. Instead, he straightened and stood before her.
“Your perception of me has changed. I hope for the good.”
Gemma shrugged. “You have an ability that I didn’t know was even possible. Have you always been able to do magic?”
“Aye.”
“Can everyone at Dreagan?”
He paused before shaking his head. “No’ everyone.”
“Are you a Druid?”
This was the one question he’d known was coming but hoped wouldn’t. Despite realizing she would ask it, he hadn’t come up with anything good to tell her.
“Cináed?”
He inwardly shook himself. “Nay, I’m no’ a Druid.”
“I see,” she murmured. “So more than Druids have magic?”
“That’s right.”
She smiled ruefully. “This is where you tell me I’m not ready to learn the truth.”
He opened his mouth to stop her when she turned away and went to the kitchen to look for something to use as a vase for the flower. Cináed walked out of the cottage to the chopper and began bringing in the tubs of files they’d taken from the attic.
With the weather coming soon, he should get set up so in case the rain turned into a thunderstorm, Gemma had something to take her mind off it.
He finished bringing all three in to find that she had searched the cupboards and fridge to find some cheese, crackers, and wine. She was looking for a wine opener when he reached around her and opened a drawer, pulling it out.
“Oh. Thanks,” she said with a little laugh.
He set to opening the bottle while she searched for glasses. As he poured the wine, she pulled back the packaging on the cheese. Cináed then got a knife and began to cut it while she opened the cracker package. All of it was done in companionable silence, and yet he had the distinct impression that she was observing him.
“Hmm,” she said after taking a bite of cheese. “This is really good.”
“Wait until you try it with the wine.”
She immediately did that and grinned as she nodded. “Very good.”
The talk ceased. They each took a chair and stared at the table while eating. After a couple of crackers, Cináed reached for the first tub and began rifling through it. There were old documents involving the parents, such as bank statements and the like.
The second box yielded nothing, both of which he moved toward Gemma in case she wanted to search through them. Which she did.
It wasn’t until Cináed opened the third bin and picked up a file that he realized he’d stumbled upon a treasure. Within the file were papers, disintegrating from age and exposure, outlining—in detail—the family lineage straight to the Clachers.
And at the bottom of the paper were two names: Kyle and Gemma.
Cináed lifted his gaze to Gemma. She did a double take when she realized he was staring.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Do you remember the document you saw that had the Clacher name?”
She shook her head, her lips twisting. “Not really.”
“Was it this?” he asked turning the page to her.
Gemma leaned closer to read the faded writing better. It took her a moment to go through the lineage until she found her name.
Her gaze jerked to his. “What does this mean?”
“Exactly what I thought it might. You’re a Clacher. It’s been kept secret for generations, but someone was smart enough to keep a family history.”
“I’m an Atherton. My father showed me the family history.”
“And I would bet it matches this almost perfectly. The only difference is the names.”
She sat back and took a long drink of wine. “You said the Clachers were wiped out.”
“Everyone believed they were, but we might be wrong.” He glanced at the rest of the tub and realized that the answers might very well lie within.
As if sensing the magnitude of possibilities, Gemma scooted her chair closer and exchanged a look with him. Then they both reached for a file.
It took another three hours where Gemma was so engrossed in the papers that she hadn’t yet realized the rain was coming down steadily. For his part, Cináed was finding more and more documented proof that substantiated the claim that Gemma was indeed a Clacher.
The only thing left to find was how some Clachers had managed to survive the attack on Eigg that had taken the rest of those who bore the name.
“Oh,” Gemma said.
Cináed glanced over to what she had found. The journal was literally falling apart, and she carefully turned the pages. He held his hands above it and spelled it to keep the journal intact.
“Thank you,” Gemma said.
He flashed her a smile and leaned over her shoulder to read. It appeared to be a journal by someone named Keavy detailing her very ordinary life—as a Druid. She spoke of ceremonies and everyday life with magic.
It went on to detail the very difficult birth of her son. But it was the next passage that excited Cináed.
The family holds a great honor. Some Druids fear us, but most understand that our duty is to protect the humans who encounter Druids and are harmed, whether intentionally or not.
I think it’s a blessing that every Clacher has a son and a daughter, which allows the continued patrolling of the Druids. We’re so far down the line that I doubt my children (if I’m able to have a second) will ever be part of the powerful brother-sister duos who bring such balance to our world, but I can hope.
“I knew it,” Cináed said.
Gemma looked at him. “What? Did you find what you were looking for?”
“I did,” he said with a smile. He then got the family tree and pointed to a name toward the top of the document before he flipped to the front of the journal to show the name again.
“It’s the same woman.”
Cináed nodded. “She came from Eigg, which means she was a Clacher there. If we’re lucky then she documented how she managed to escape.”
Gemma flipped through the rest of the journal until Cináed glimpsed something on a page. He halted her and turned back to what had caught his attention.
“There,” he said.
Gemma read it aloud. “The impossible has happened. Our beautiful haven has been attacked. Despite the power and influence of our family, no one came to help. We were decimated so quickly. The screams will remain with me forever. I watched my husband and family killed one by one. If it hadn’t been for my husband, my son and I would have been lying on the ground next to him. But he took me to a secret entrance to the caves we found when we were teenagers.
“I didn’t want to go. It was so slippery. I feared that I would fall and harm my son. With the cries of the dying and the shrieks of the yellow monsters who attacked us, I put one foot in front of the other. I didn’t dare use any magic since the creatures seemed to home in on that. Despite everything, I managed to make it to the sea with my child. There waited a rowboat.
“I wanted as far from the carnage as I could get—after all, I wished my son spared from such a death—but I waited in the caves until nightfall. When I thought it might be safe, I heard the monsters over the crash of waves and knew we couldn’t leave yet. For three days I stayed in the caves with my child. It was then that I finally climbed in the boat. Then I rowed. I had no direction, just away from Eigg.
“It felt as if I rowed for eternity before I finally came onto shore. I had no idea why Eigg had been targeted, but just to be safe, I told no one I was a Clacher. I changed mine and my son’s surname to Atherton. The Clacher name would remain a secret until we could once again claim our rightful destiny.”
Gemma finished and looked up at him. “What does that mean?”
Cináed ran a hand down his face. “It means she got verra lucky. It also means that story your mother told you about the brother and sister who policed Druids was her way of handing down your heritage.”
“Why not just tell me?”
“You were a child.”
Gemma glanced out the window. “They went to such lengths to hide the Clacher name. And I took it.”
“It doesna seem to have had any kind of negative effect.”
“Is all this why my parents kept us on the isle away from everyone?”
Cináed lifted one shoulder. “It could be.”
“If it was safe to use the Clacher name, why wouldn’t they have? Why wouldn’t they claim their heritage?”
“Your heritage,” he corrected. “And perhaps it had been too long.”
Gemma shook her head. “What happened to my parents, it has to do with this. I know it.”
Cináed had believed that for a while, but he didn’t want to scare her. “It might, but I doona think you’re in danger. Look how long you’ve carried the Clacher name.”
“Years,” she said.
“Has anyone come for you?”
She shook her head of ginger hair.
Cináed smiled. “Then there you have it.”
“I’m part of a world of magic. Of Druids,” she added. “And I know nothing about them. It’s all part of the answers I’ve been looking for. Will you tell me what I seek?”
“Aye.”
Her smile was blinding. “All of it. Don’t hold anything back. I can take it. I did fine with the flower.”
Cináed grinned slightly. “There is a lot more to the story. You need to prepare yourself.”
“I’m not scared. Not with you,” she confessed.
He held out his hand and she took it. The moment their palms touched, his eyes softened. “You trust me?”
“I do.”
Her words touched him deeply. He pulled her up and into his lap, where he feasted upon her lips.