Authors: Donna Grant
Gregor snorted. “How many times must I tell you Glenna had never seen me before the day you came to MacNeil Castle?”
Conall watched him walk away, his thoughts heavy. How in the saints had Gregor known what he had been thinking? Was Gregor a Druid as well?
* * * * *
Glenna sat on her bed and stared into the fire. Conall hated her now. It had been inevitable, but she had hoped the fantasy would go on a little longer before it came crashing down around her like everything always did.
Fate hadn’t been kind to her.
It had been crueler still to Iona.
Iona. She had been Glenna’s first and only friend. Iona had even kept silent about where she had come from, never telling Glenna the MacNeil had taken her from her home. She mourned her friend’s absence and prayed she was still alive.
A gust of wind howled through the narrow window and swirled around Glenna, sending her hair into her eyes.
Glenna
.
She jumped off the bed and looked around the room. Someone had said her name, yet she was alone. What magic was this?
Glenna. It’s Moira
.
“Moira?” she asked, and smoothed hair out of her eyes. “Where are you? I don’t see you.”
Laughter filled the room.
Think, Glenna. Iona was sent to teach you of your power
.
“I don’t have powers,” she whispered as chills rose on her skin, the wind lifting her skirts. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Gregor, after all, had seen what she was capable of.
Aye, you do. Fire. Mine is wind. I can control it just as you’ll be able to control fire. Given time and training your powers will grow
.
Now she was intrigued. “Powers? I have more than one?”
You can foresee the future. That gift is one many Druids have. Another is the gift of healing in which I have
.
“Iona never told me any of this.”
She couldn’t. She fulfilled her destiny, Glenna. Now it’s your turn
.
“What destiny?”
You are one of three chosen before they were born to fulfill an ancient prophecy. Time is of the essence, and you have much to learn. Come to me, Glenna
.
“I cannot. Conall has forbidden it,” she said. The wind grew weak. Moira was leaving, but Glenna had many more questions.
Come, Glenna…
“Don’t leave me,” she begged, but it was too late. Moira had left. And Glenna knew she had to learn more, even if it meant gaining the ire of Conall. The Druids were the ones who would tell her all she needed to know. Iona had been a Druid and she hadn’t lied to Glenna.
* * * * *
Moira collapsed against the oak true, her breath coming in great gulps, but a smile was on her lips.
“Well?” asked Frang, the Druid high priest who had reared her.
“She’ll come. The MacNeil almost beat all of her spirit out of her, but she still has some. Her curiosity will get the better of her.”
“If she defies Conall he’s likely to lock her in a tower,” he warned, and leaned on his tall staff.
Moira looked at the Druid elder and smiled. “He’ll try, but her powers are greater than we realized. Such strength courses through her, yet she has no idea.”
“Then it’s good Conall took her from the MacNeil before more damage could be done.”
Moira seethed at what the MacNeil had used Glenna for. Many innocents had perished, but she didn’t intend for that to happen again. Once Glenna learned to control her powers, the MacNeil wouldn’t be able to use her again.
“Conall doesn’t know he’s fulfilling his destiny. He’s turned his back on his Druid blood.”
“He’s trying,” Frang said, and ran a hand down his long white beard. “But he cannot deny what’s been given to him. With Glenna’s help he may yet come around.”
Moira rose and stood next to the man who had reared her after her parents’ death. He had taught her everything he knew. “Do you think he’ll fight his feelings for her?”
Frang cackled, the sound echoing around the stone circle. “He’s been fighting it since the first moment he laid eyes upon her. He may yet set her aside.”
Moira squared her shoulders. “Then I’ll have to make sure he doesn’t put up much of a fight.”
Chapter Nine
The morning dawned crisp and sunny. Glenna eagerly waited until she heard Conall training with his men before she walked from her chamber. Her eyes found the guards that roamed the battlements. There was no need for them to ride the hills awaiting the MacNeil. The way the castle stood atop the cliff no one could ride toward the castle and not been seen many leagues out.
There was no way the MacNeil could launch a surprise attack, which was why she felt safe enough to venture into the forest, though the way her heart beat so fast and loud she was sure everyone around her could hear it.
She circled around Conall and his soldiers. The people still hadn’t accepted her yet none stopped her when she left the castle nor when she walked through the gates. She should have been elated yet part of her was miserable. Once again she was being ignored. Would there ever come a time when she meant something to someone, anyone?
The music had woken her and continued to play as she broke her fast, until she could no longer deny the tug of the music. It pulled at her soul, urging her feet faster until she stood outside the stone circle.
Moira stepped into her line of sight. There were so many questions Glenna wanted to ask, but they would wait. For now she was content to watch and learn as Moira held out her hand.
Glenna walked with her until they reached a solid wall of stone. She looked to Moira and waited.
“Do you believe in all I’ve told you?”
Glenna nodded. “I know what Iona taught me. I know that innocent people have been harmed because—”
“Because when you get angry or upset fires erupt,” Moira finished. “Iona was brought to teach you that you bring about fire during high emotion. I’ll teach you how to extinguish one, how to start one and how to control it.”
“You can do that?”
She smiled. “I’m a Druid.”
“Is that what I am?” Iona had been right. She was finding answers, and she would find herself here.
Moira nodded. “A very powerful one at that. Do you believe?”
Glenna looked from Moira to the stone wall. Moira was trying to tell her something, but she couldn’t figure out what. “Aye, I believe.”
In that instant the stone wall disappeared to show a luscious green meadow with a waterfall. It was like a dream. Everything was in bloom, and she had never seen so many different birds in all her life.
“How,” she whispered, unable to believe her eyes.
“It’s called a
fe-fiada
, an invisibility cloak. We make this invisible to anyone who doesn’t believe in us. They cannot see anything other than the stones themselves.”
“So what if someone lied and said they believed?”
“It doesn’t work that way. If one truly doesn’t believe then they’ll never see anything other than the stones.”
Glenna followed her inside the circle. Something powerful and strong blossomed in her body. She was home. Her spirit was lighter, freer.
“Welcome home, Glenna,” said a man with thick, white hair that flowed down to the middle of his back and a white beard that hung past his neck.
He walked with a long, solid stick, but his eyes weren’t those of an old man. They were powerful in their intensity, and they bore into her soul as if they searched to see if she was worthy.
“This is Frang,” Moira said. “He’s the Druid high priest.”
“Hello,” Glenna said, and was relieved when he smiled at her, showing a mouth full of white teeth. He might present the world with the old-man guise, but she soon realized he was anything but ancient.
Frang walked to her and held out his hand. Glenna looked down and saw a dagger. A ruby the size of her palm was nestled into the hilt and beautiful scrollwork etched into the blade.
“This was to be presented to you at the time of your birth,” he said, and handed it to her.
Glenna grasped the dagger, amazed at its weight, though it felt good in her hands, as if it belonged there. “Why wouldn’t the MacNeil let me have it?”
“Because he isn’t your father.”
Her eyes jerked to his. “You lie,” she said, not believing her ears. It couldn’t finally come true after years of wishing. It was too cruel.
“I do not lie,” he said, his blue eyes soft and kind. But there was great sadness there as well. “I know this is hard for you, but it’s the truth. MacNeil took you from your parents.”
Glenna saw the truth shining in his eyes and her knees buckled. Moira caught her and wrapped an arm around her for support.
A lump formed in the pit of her stomach. “And who is my father?”
“A great laird named Duncan Sinclair. He was well known throughout the Highlands, and his death was mourned deeply.”
“He’s dead?”
Nay
, her mind screamed.
He cannot be dead after I’ve just found out about him.
“My mother?”
“Catriona. A fairer woman I’ve never met. She had more grace in her little finger than any queen.”
Glenna couldn’t believe her ears. There were so many things she wanted to know about her parents. Her stomach churned in dread for fear of the answer, but she took a deep breath, and asked, “Where is my mother?”
Frang and Moira shared a look before he said, “She’s dead as well. They died together.”
“I need to know how.”
“Come,” Moira urged. “No more questions.”
Glenna jerked her arm from Moira’s hand. “Nay. For too long I’ve lived with lies. Tell me.”
Moira closed her eyes and turned away. Frang smiled despondently. “Aye, you deserve to know. MacNeil killed them two days after you were born.”
A knife plunged in Glenna’s heart as she let his words soak in. Nay. It couldn’t be true. But she knew it was. “Why?”
“Your parents were Druids. MacNeil feared them.”
“Yet he raised me. I don’t understand.”
“He wanted to use you.”
“And he did,” she said forlornly, thinking of the Mackenzies.
“Don’t,” Frang said, and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t let distressing memories weigh down your heart. You were not to blame for the Mackenzies.”
But she couldn’t believe his words because it had been her who enflamed the entire clan.
Moira placed her arms around her. “This has been a lot for you today. Now you must turn your mind to learning the Druid ways. We have little time for you to prepare.”
Glenna looked from Frang to Moira. “Prepare for what?”
“The prophecy is soon to come to pass. You have much to learn before then if you are to succeed.”
But Glenna wasn’t able to think past one single thought—her life had been a total lie, and she would exact her revenge against MacNeil for what he had done.
* * * * *
Conall wiped the sweat from his brow. He had trained harder and longer than usual this morning, and it still hadn’t taken a certain dark-headed temptress from his thoughts.
Her body, wet and warm was still vivid in his memory from their swim in the loch. Her full lips still begged for his kiss, and his body demanded to sink into her until they were one.
He desperately needed a woman, but not just any woman.
His sword raised in time to stop Angus’ downward thrust. With a step and a pivot Conall relieved him of his weapon. The big man stared dumbfounded at his weapon thirty paces away.
“Och, Conall. After all these years, how are ye still able to manage that one on me even with yer mind elsewhere?”
Conall laughed. “You weren’t expecting it.”
Apprehension tickled his skin. He looked to Glenna’s window. She wasn’t in the castle. He didn’t ask how he knew, he just
knew
.
“Finish the training, Angus,” he called as he ran out of the gates to the forest and the circle of stones.
As much as he hoped Glenna wasn’t with Moira, he knew it was futile. It had only been a matter of time until Moira reached her, and if he would have kept a closer eye on Glenna he might have kept her away a bit longer. He had been a fool to think he could keep Glenna and the Druids separated.
He slowed his steps and crept close to the stone circle. He had only been inside once, when he was a small child, but it had lived with him forever.
The Druids walked in pairs while the Druid warriors, Druids who defended other Druids who didn’t have powers, stood guard. Conall snorted. He hadn’t even ranked a Druid warrior.
“It’s glad I am to see you again, Conall. It’s been a very long time.”
Conall whirled around to find Frang standing behind him. He lowered his head and rubbed his eyes. “Must you always do that?”
“As long as you sneak up on my people,” Frang said with a wide smile. “I’ve been waiting for you.”