Page 40 of A Laird and a Gentleman

Mariam’s first response was denial, but then she sighed, resigned to the fact that something had changed inside her this week. Her hand crept up to cup the shell at her neck. “In some fashion, my whole life thus far. But only with greater ability since I shattered the shell necklace my mother gave me as a child.”

“You awoke your powers when you broke it,” Vivian said. “It must also mean your mother was gifted.”

“Gifted?” Mariam frowned. “You mean magical?”

Vivian nodded. “As you said, these times are difficult. “’Tis best if we simply refer to our abilities as gifts.”

Mariam’s eyes went wide. “You have abilities as well?” Her shoulders sagged as relief moved through her at the knowledge this woman had magical abilities as well.

Vivian nodded. “My healing is the most outward sign, and one that brought me much trouble not long ago.”

“Cameron said you were almost burned at the stake?”

A soft smile came to Vivian’s lips. “I was about to be burned when Quinn saved me.”

Mariam felt the blood drain from her face. “Did my father . . .?” She couldn’t bear it if her father had been the one to send Vivian to the stake—to cause her pain.

Vivian reached out and covered Mariam’s hand with her own. “He had nothing to do with my struggles.” There was a long silence between them until the healer asked, “Do you have other gifts?”

Mariam stiffened and almost pulled her hand away before she paused, and sank back against the grass. Vivian had not called her out, had not pointed and cried out against her. This was a woman who admitted to being irregular like herself. “I have dreams. Usually they are terrible dreams that portend what might happen in the future.”

Vivian nodded. “My foretelling of the future comes to me in the form of visions.”

“You have dreams also?” Mariam gasped at the revelation. “It is a terrible burden, is it not? To know what the future will bring?”

“Mine are more like visions that happen all during the day or night. I do not think of my gift as a curse. I like to think of my visions as an opportunity instead. Knowing what might happen in the future gives us both a chance to perhaps change that outcome.”

Mariam frowned. “Have you ever been able to do that? Change the future?”

“Aye,” Vivian replied, her tone suddenly sad. “Those changes come with a cost that is not always easy to bear.” After another long pause, she asked, “Do you want to tell me about one of these dreams you’ve had recently? Perhaps the two of us can find some insight we might use to counter the effects.”

“I had a dream not long ago that was very unusual. It was the emotion it caused in me—the fear—I remember more than anything else. There was darkness . . . devastation. And it seemed as though the whole world was simply gone. I don’t know how we can use any of that to change what might happen.”

Vivian turned to stare back up at the sky. “Mariam.” Vivian’s voice sounded strange. “It is no longer what might happen. It is happening now.”

Mariam sat upright and looked at the sky. The world around them fell silent—devoid of all noise. The clouds overhead shifted from gray to black and the sun disappeared, blotted out by sudden darkness. The wind that had been so sweet moments before was suddenly filled with the smell of sulfur. Dry leaves flew up in a whirlwind of rustling brown and gold, striking Mariam’s body and leaving a sting of pain behind as they moved on.

“Are you causing the wind?” Vivian asked, her features filled with concern as she stood.

“Nay!” Mariam jumped up as a coil of fear knotted her stomach.

“It must be a dust storm.”

Mariam looked up. The darkness edged forward, until it engulfed them entirely. Visibility dropped until Mariam could only see a hand’s length in front of her. The castle she knew was there, but it had vanished into darkness.

The whole world was simply gone.

A chill chased down Mariam’s spine at the recollection of her dream. Black soot floated in the air, like a fine mist, but it didn’t vanish upon hitting the ground. Nay, upon the earth, it swirled like cold snow, accumulating about her booted feet.

“We must return to the castle,” Vivian said.

“Agreed. I fear this is going to get much worse.” Mariam gulped ashy air as she shuffled slowly forward. Finally, a dark mass came into view. The castle. But where were the doors? Uncertain where the portal was located, Mariam inched her way along the stone wall until she finally felt the wooden planks that made up one of the doors.

Once back inside, Mariam closed the heavy doors behind her and Vivian. Even so, the smell of sulfur hung in the air. “I’m so glad you, Quinn, and Alexander arrived when you did. I would hate for you to have been caught up in whatever kind of storm this is.” And what of Cameron and his men? Would they know of the danger and stay away, or be caught in it themselves?

“This is no storm. I heard a story as a child about a similar situation—sudden darkness that blocks the sun, the birds and animals vanishing, and lots of falling ash.” Vivian’s face paled. “In the past, many have thought such an event was a sign of God’s displeasure with his people.”

“Is that what you believe this is?” Mariam asked, her voice vibrating with emotion.