Merida drew her head back, flinching from Freya’s words.
“I thought finding the spell was the first step to getting me back home?”
“But this spell is…well…”
“Well, what?” Merida asked.
“It is turning you into a bear,” Freya said.
Merida was sure she had heard incorrectly. She chuckled, and then the chuckle grew into a full-bellied laugh.
“How can you find humor in this?” Freya asked.
“Because—” Merida held her hand up, needing a minute to collect herself. “Because I thought you said that I was turning into a bear.”
“That is what I said.”
Merida’s spine went rigid. “What do you mean I am turning into a bear?”
“It is the only thing that makes sense.” Freya gestured to the spell book. “You came to me seeking a spell to change your mother, correct?”
“Yes, but not into an animal.”
“The spell is based on the Legend of the Black Bear.” Freya nervously twisted her gown in her hands. “Legend has it that the bear was once human—a young man—who had a difficult time seeing the world from any perspective but his own. The young man’s family sought to find a way to make him more considerate of others so that he would stop trying to bully them into following his way.
“But the young man resisted. And instead of becoming more understanding, he became more stubborn, more brute. He had until the solstice to change his ways and mend the bond that had been broken between him and his family, but he chose not to, and he remained a bear for the rest of his days.”
Merida’s chest tightened. “Why would you give my mother such a spell? That is not what I asked for at all.”
“Maybe you mentioned that your mother was being unreasonable and would not listen? And that you wanted her to see things from your perspective?”
Merida nodded slowly.
“Then that explains it. This is exactly the type of spell any good witch would choose in this situation.” Freya hunched her shoulders. She wagged a finger at Merida. “And this is why one should never use a spell that is not meant for them.”
“It does not explain anything,” Merida said. She looked down at her arms. “And now I am turning into a bear!”
“Because your mother was a bear to put up with. The spell would have changed your fate by forcing your mother to change her ways. But you subverted those plans when you consumed the spell yourself.” She pinched her forefinger and thumb together. “One small change—one tiny disruption—has the power to alter the course of history.”
Merida released an exhausted sigh. “Why must you make it sound so dramatic? I did not change the course of history when I ate that cake.”
Freya walked up to her and enclosed Merida’s cheeks in her palms. “Oh, but haven’t you? One person is all it takes.” She held up a lone finger. “There are no insignificant people in this world, Merida. We all have our place and play our parts. One person’s actions affect another, and another, and another. Think of it this way.” She pointed to the ground. “If I were not here right now to tell you to move, the snake that is about to bite you would have a piece of your leg.”
Merida yelped and jumped out of the way. She flattened her hand to her chest in an attempt to slow the sudden rapid beating of her heart.
“See? Your life would have changed, just like that.” Freya snapped her fingers. She picked up her basket of mushrooms and swung it toward the snake, shooing it away.
“Come.” Freya grabbed Merida by the arm and tugged her over to the fallen tree trunk. She clasped her hands on her shoulders and encouraged her to sit. “You must be mindful of that injury to your head. Have no worries, there are no snakes here,” Freya said. “Now, let us consider where things are. Your mother is promised to the eldest son of the Fraser chieftain, but you are proof that she was destined to marry the eldest son of Clan DunBroch.”
“Yes. And together, she and my father have four children, me and my three brothers. The triplets.”
“Triplets, you say? That is rare. Their union is a very special one indeed.”
“Except there has not been a union, and according to you, there will not be one unless I can bring them together.”
“That is correct,” Freya said. “Because of where you were in that forest five days ago, Princess Elinor’s and the lad from Clan DunBroch’s lives changed from their original fates, along with the lives of everyone they would have eventually had an impact on. The longer your parents are apart, the more disruption it will cause. They are losing precious moments from their courtship.”
Freya plopped down next to Merida on the fallen tree and placed her basket of mushrooms on the ground between them. “We must hasten things along,” she continued, slapping her hands against her thighs. “We know your parents met and that they fell in love and had four children. Was there anything else significant that resulted from Princess Elinor discovering Fergus in the woods?”
“They also established a new kingdom together,” Merida said. “I do not know much about the origins of the kingdom of DunBroch. It is a complicated story, and I must admit that I do not pay much attention to kingdom politics or history.”
“The kingdom of DunBroch?” Freya asked, her brows arching in surprise. “Are you saying the MacCameron’s kingdom fell? What about the new peace alliance? Did it collapse?”
“It must have,” Merida said. “My father loves to tell the story of how he brought together the four clans that make up their kingdom to defeat the Vikings.”
“Who are the Vikings, dear?”
“They were invaders,” Merida explained. She jumped up from the log and began to pace as the words rushed out of her.
“This story I do know. The Vikings invaded from the north, by way of Moray. There were thousands of them, armed with lances and spears. According to my father, the clans were feuding with one another, but he convinced the chieftains that they must all band together if they were to defeat the invaders, because if they did not, the Vikings would take out each clan one by one.”
“And then what happened?” Freya asked.
“My father and the other chieftains were victorious,” she answered. “The Vikings retreated. And, because of that, they decided to name him king.” Merida stopped short. She turned to Freya in confusion. “But what about my grand-father? He is the current king.”
The furrow in Freya’s brow deepened. “That is a good question,” she said. “What were you told about King Douglass?”
“I have never known much about my grandparents. The few times I asked my mother about her clan, she would only say that the MacCamerons returned to their homeland in the south, but I never learned the story of why they left. Now that I have seen just how vast the MacCameron lands are, I am even more curious about why my grandfather relinquished all he had amassed.”
“A powerful king does not simply relinquish his throne, Merida.”
“You believe my grandfather was removed?” she asked.
“Did your father ever mention the MacCamerons when he told the story of bringing the neighboring clans together to fight the Vikings?”
Merida shook her head. “He spoke of the Vikings who survived the battle and how they retreated following their defeat. My father was crowned king and my mother was crowned queen.”
But where was her grandfather in all of this? What happened during the time between when King Douglass was removed from the throne and when her father, Fergus, was named king?
“My father never spoke of another clan that ruled after MacCameron Kingdom fell, so there must not have been much time at all between when my grandfather was removed from the throne and when my father was crowned king,” Merida reasoned. “That means the Vikings must have arrived soon after…”
Merida’s voice trailed off as more of the picture came into focus.
Freya put a hand to her mouth. Her eyes had gone wide with panic. “The MacCameron was not simply removed from the throne,” she surmised.
He was killed.
Neither spoke the words, but then there was no need to. It was obvious what had happened. The Vikings had killed King Douglass, leaving room for Fergus to step in as ruler of a new kingdom.
A wave of unexpected sorrow overwhelmed Merida. Her brief encounter with her grandfather had not planted any seeds of affection in her for the man, but the thought of her mother suffering the loss of a parent—even a brusque, unfeeling parent—struck Merida as unbelievably sad.
A heavy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach as another thought occurred to her.
“I always wondered how my father was able to rally the chieftains of Clans MacGuffin, Dingwall, and Macintosh to fight with him against the Vikings. They are a strong-willed lot; they would not have simply followed his orders because they were asked to do so. There had to be something else to compel them to follow.”
“Like the fact that he was the princess’s betrothed,” Freya said.
Merida nodded. It was the same conclusion she had come to.
“My father was already set to become king because of his upcoming marriage to my mother. That would explain how he convinced the other clans to join him.” She looked at Freya. “If the clans had not banded together, there is no way they could have withstood the assault from the Vikings. Elinor and Fergus’s marriage is the key to it all.”
“Merida, do you understand what this means?” Freya asked.
Merida shook her head, even though the picture was becoming clearer.
“It was not only your fate that you changed when you consumed that spell, Merida. I think you may have changed the fate of your entire clan, along with the clans surrounding DunBroch.”
Merida’s jaw went slack as she stared at Freya, willing the witch’s words to be untrue. But as more of the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, it became harder to deny the only possible conclusion.
“If I do not find a way to get my parents betrothed before the Vikings attack, my entire people will be in danger.”