Page 21 of A Little Highland Magic

“How long have I been asleep?” she asked, trying to sit up.

“Lie back. You need your rest.” Gwendolyn’s voice came from beside her. “Lottie must confirm that you are well before any of us will let you out of this bed.”

As light as a feather, someone’s fingers touched her cheeks. “Welcome back to us.” Lottie’s fingers were replaced with something cool and soothing. Gently it pressed against her forehead, then down her cheek. The scents of comfrey and rosemary came to her—reviving scents.

Aria forced her eyes fully open. “What happened to me? The last thing I remember was . . .” She flinched and gazed down at her body. “The last thing I remember was that I was covered in grasshoppers.”

“You turned them all into butterflies,” Gwendolyn said, her eyes smiling. “None of us knew you could do that.”

Aria’s pulse quickened as she eased herself into a sitting position. “Neither did I.”

“Have you always had magical abilities?” Gwendolyn asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. Her eyes were kind, curious.

Aria dropped her gaze to her hands. “I hid my magic so that Oberon would not locate me in the human realm. I suppressed my emotions for the same reason.”

“But last night you gave in when you were dancing with Graeme, did you not?” There was no judgement in her words.

Aria looked up and nodded.

Gwendolyn’s features filled with remorse. “Fiona and I forced you into that.”

“Nay,” Aria countered. “I chose to enter the chamber. And, for a few moments, I was happier than I had ever been.” Her gaze moved about the room, seeking evidence of what had happened in the interim since she had been outside. “How did I get up here?”

Gwendolyn’s smile returned. “Graeme carried you up. He has been hovering at the door since Lottie sent him away, yesterday.” The knowledge sent a curl of warmth through Aria.

Lottie appeared at the bedside. “Drink this. You need to regain your strength.” The healer handed her a mug of steaming bone broth.

Aria held the mug in her hands, allowing it to cool before she took a sip. “What happened to me, to my memory?” Aria asked the healer.

“My best guess is that your fairy half overwhelmed your human half when you used your magic. You went into a kind of deep sleep that eventually allowed your body to recover.”

Just then a knock sounded on the door. Before anyone could answer, the door swung open, and Graeme appeared in the doorframe. The look on his face was that of concern. “How is the patient?” he asked, coming into the chamber.

“As you can see, she is awake and on the road to recovery,” Lottie said, putting her herbs and potions back inside her leather case.

Graeme stopped at the foot of the bed. A frown accentuated the shadows of fatigue and worry beneath his eyes. “Are you truly well?” His voice held a hint of worry.

“I am unharmed.” She set the broth aside. “Allow me to dress, then we can begin our plans to retrieve Keiran.”

“Not until you drink that broth,” Lottie warned.

With a sigh of frustration, Aria picked up the mug and took a sip of the savoury liquid, earning a nod from Lottie.

“There is no hurry,” Gwendolyn said. “After all, you already saved the MacLeods from Oberon’s reach.”

Aria shook her head. “I am not at all certain the MacLeods are safe. When Oberon sends a message, he does not stop until he has achieved his goal.”

Graeme’s frown deepened. “What does he want, Aria?”

“Me.” She swallowed roughly. “He wants to punish me and use me as an example to the other fairies who might dare to leave his kingdom.” She released a heavy sigh. “If Oberon sent one plague, then we had better prepare ourselves for six more.”

“Six more events like last night?” Tension tightened Graeme’s features. The air in the room hung still and heavy as he searched her face. “What will they be?”

She wanted to turn away from his probing gaze but forced herself to hold steady. “I do not know, but whatever he has in store will not be so easily defeated as the grasshoppers.”

“Nothing about last night looked easy. Your efforts nearly killed you,” he argued.

“Nay.” She brought her hand up to wrap around the vial that lay between her breasts. “I believe this water protected me from any harm. Not only is it water from a stream, but it is also water that flows on MacLeod land—the land of my ancestors.”