Page 41 of A Little Highland Magic

Aria wanted to ask him which flag he was sending with them but decided against it. Perhaps it was better if none of them knew. That way Oberon would not be able to glean any deception from them when they offered it to the fairy king for the exchange.

“It is time,” Orrick said, glancing at the light coming through the window.

Graeme took the knapsack and settled it on his back as he and Aria went to join Gille in the centre of the chamber. From there, they could react and head in any direction once the portal opened.

The three ghosts joined the mist that made up their hands and started chanting words Aria did not understand, though they sounded Celtic. The sound was like a soft melody in the background. Even so, Reverend Vollar’s face paled, and his hands shook as he extended them over the font and blessed the water. Once done, he turned to Gwendolyn and Alastair with fear in his eyes. “Who gives these children to be baptised?”

“Their father and I,” Gwendolyn answered calmly as she clutched Jarlath to her chest.

Both the children wore their iron bracelets, and for that Aria was grateful. The metal would provide them some protection when the portal opened. Aria watched as the infants were removed from their blankets and held over the font. Water was scooped up in a shell and poured over their tiny heads. She had never seen this human ritual before, and she had a hard time pulling her gaze away to search for the emergence of a portal in the chamber. Until she felt a nudge at her side.

“Look,” Graeme said, pointing to a small flash of light that gradually widened and lengthened near the east wall.

After exchanging looks of comprehension, the three travellers stepped closer to the growing light. “When do we enter?” Graeme asked.

“As soon as it is large enough to hold all three of us.” A fist of fear closed around Aria’s heart, making it difficult to breathe. She had trained and planned for years to escape Fairyland. Now she was returning to the place where she had known nothing but pain and unhappiness. She cast her gaze around the small chapel, memorising every detail in case this was her last glimpse of the human realm. Familial obligations and the need for forgiveness were what drove her to this moment. And even though she knew bringing Keiran and her mother home was the right thing to do, fear coiled inside her.

Aria took a deep breath, trying to calm herself as a sudden fit of trembling gripped her and doubts assailed her. Would they make it from the shadow realm and into Fairyland? Would they be able to fight back against Oberon’s magic? Were they headed on a fool’s errand?

Nay! Aria told herself as she tried to steady her nerves. I must not give in to my fears. That is what Oberon would want. Fears are to be conquered, not fed.

As though sensing her thoughts, Graeme took her hand. A smile touched his lips and Aria was drawn to them. His lips were full and soft, and in that moment, she wanted to feel them on her mouth, her body. She longed to run her own lips along the strong line of his jaw, to twine her fingers through his hair. At the thoughts, a smile came to her own lips. If they survived this ordeal, perhaps all of that could happen. Either way, her fear had abated as the portal widened.

The chanting stopped and the spectres floated towards the travellers, engulfing them in their mist. A chill flashed through Aria as, joined by the spirit of Lady Janet, they moved inside the yellowish light. Graeme, surrounded by the MacCrimmon piper, was beside her. And Gille, enveloped by Lady Mary, beside him.

Just as they moved into the light, an icy wind slid through the chapel to caress all those inside. It sent the flame of the candles dancing, writhing, making twisting shadows on the rough-hewn walls.

“Is this a part of the ritual?” Aria asked as she turned to watch those inside the chapel. Alastair clutched Rory to his chest. Gwendolyn did the same with Jarlath. Orrick and Tormod jumped to stand between the portal and the new parents, protecting them from the unseen threat.

Tormod started to draw his sword, when suddenly, he froze midway through. Orrick’s eyes drifted closed as he stood motionless. Reverend Vollar’s mouth opened as if in a scream only to freeze in silence. Alastair and Gwendolyn, clutching their children, closed their eyes and became as still as the three MacLeod Maidens who had also been cursed.

Aria wanted to cry out as she realised Oberon had cast a sleeping curse over them. If Aria, Graeme, and Gille had not been inside the portal when the wind came through, they would also have been affected. Instead, the ghosts drew them deeper into the light, leaving a castle of vulnerable people they loved behind.

*

Lady Janet’s focus on Aria slipped for a second as she watched the blue-white wind whisper through the chapel. This was no ordinary wind. It was tainted with magic. Fear rose inside her, thick and rich as the shimmering power of the portal that engulfed them.

A battle erupted inside her as she clung to Aria, refusing to release her while they travelled, yet she yearned to go back to Dunvegan with the same urgency to protect her children from Oberon’s magic. Was Oberon forcing her to make a choice between Keiran, Aria, Graeme, and Gille or the rest of her family and clan?

For she saw beyond the chapel and through the entire castle. Every living thing within the gates of Dunvegan had fallen victim to the fairy king’s sleeping curse. They would remain frozen in time until the travellers to Fairyland returned and somehow broke the magical spell.

The victims would remain eternally asleep, but their souls would be sent to the in-between place where she existed, and they would have dreams made up of their own regrets. They would feel lost, alone, and hopeless about ever being among the living again. She knew this from her own experiences. And desperately wanted to spare them the pain they would endure.

Yet she knew she could not abandon Aria either. Instead of letting go of Aria, Lady Janet clung to her. Closing her eyes, she prayed she had not made a terrible mistake.