Page 52 of Connal

She peered at him. “Are you in love with Meg?”

“I dinnae ken…the laird’s chamber maid? Och, no, my lady.” He brought over the mug and handed it to her. “She’s but a maiden, and much too young. Why ask you that?”

“Somebody is in love with her, or is messing with her. I don’t know which. Anyway, I’ll talk to Fletcher about it in the morning. Thanks for the tea.” When he didn’t leave she sighed. “Which was an excuse to come in here, I’m guessing.”

Nyall inclined his head. “The laird said you wish journey to the mainland and seek aid from the druids. You should ken he’s commanded the clan no’ to take you from the island. No MacMar shall act against his orders.”

“I know. I tried to talk him into the idea.” Although she’d successfully convinced herself, now she wasn’t so sure. “It’s okay. Maybe we’ll find another way to get me out of the twelfth century.”

Nyall came to crouch next to her chair. “I name my best friend the Finfolk garrison commander, Jamaran. We dinnae wish war with each other, my lady. Yet should you remain unmarried on Caladh, ’twill push Merrick against the laird. Neither shall relent, and that shall break the truce. If such happens, many shall die.”

“You’re sure you really can’t disobey Connal’s orders?” she asked.

“The laird doesnae command Jamaran,” the captain said carefully. “For the sake of keeping the peace, he may do much. When the Vikings held him enslaved, he risked his life to free the king. His masters meant to execute him for betraying them. If no’ for Merrick, he would have drowned at sea.”

“How awful.” Valerie grew horrified. “But he can’t carry me over to the mainland.”

“The Finfolk possess boats that move swiftly and cannae be easily seen,” Nyall assured her. “Jamaran’s been to the mainland many times. He’s trustworthy, I promise you, and shall likely give you aid once you explain.”

Now Valerie understood. “You haven’t asked your best friend to smuggle me off Caladh yet?”

“I may only arrange for you meet him,” he told her. “What you speak of with him, ’tisnae my concern.”

“You’re even sneakier than I thought.” She knew it would upset Connal if she pulled this off, but at least he wouldn’t risk starting a war over her. “Okay. Just tell me one thing: why are you doing this?”

The captain took out a small roll of parchment. “’Tis something you should first read.”

The next morning Valerie stopped by the infirmary to get another dose of Duncan’s headache potion, and blamed it on a sleepless night. The healer didn’t believe her, and insisted on checking her over first.

“You’re flushed.” He looked into her eyes. “No, you’re angry.”

“You really are a good doctor.” Before he could touch her she got up from the stool and went over to his black cabinet. “Do you have a magical time travel device in your collection? Because I’d really like to borrow it for a minute.”

“How do you ken I collect anything?” Before she could reply he winced. “I left the doors unlocked the day you helped me.”

“I didn’t touch anything, I promise. I just put the bottle back. And I looked at your stuff for a few minutes.” She rubbed her throbbing brow. “There might have been a little door that opened and closed on its own.”

Duncan came over and released the latch mechanism, which Valerie saw was a wooden version of several nautilus shells that interlocked with each other to form the handle.

“Caladh, ’twas created by my Fae Sire,” the healer said as he opened the doors. “The very land itself, ’tis saturated in his magic. That attracts certain other objects to our shores. I’ve been collecting them for centuries, mainly so I may prevent a mortal from touching them.”

“Touching them would be bad?” To her it looked like a lot of junk.

Duncan took out a piece of what appeared to be moldy driftwood, holding it tightly as he held it up between them. It suddenly sprouted arms, legs and a pointed eyeless head with a toothy snout. The thing snarled soundlessly at Valerie before it tried to bite him.

“Aye, ’twas once a woodland imp.” He stroked the creature’s back, and it shuddered before it turned back into a piece of moldy-looking wood. “The melia created these as their guards.”

“How cute.” She concealed a shudder. “Does it bite you until you get out of the tree Fae’s forest?”

“They burrow under your skin and devour you from the inside out, slowly, as they once did to woodsmen who tried chop down their melia’s tree.” He placed the imp back in its compartment. “You said one of the doors opened?”

“That one.” As soon as Valerie pointed, it swung open. “Just like that.”

Duncan reached in and pulled out a handful of jelly-like blue water that bounced up and down on his palm, flattened and turned into a watery glove, and finally pulled itself back together to form a perfect sphere.

“What is that?” Valerie said, fascinated now.

“I dinnae ken. I found it covering the face of a dead fisherman that washed ashore. ’Twas no water in his lungs, and no’ a mark on his body. This creature had smothered him, I reckon.” He placed the orb back in the cabinet. “My sire once told me of ancient sirens whose tears serve as their weapons. Mayhap ’tis such.”