Page 8 of A Little Highland Magic

“My first response is to say never, but that is not entirely true. I must return to free Keiran though I cannot do so alone.” For a moment her expression grew pained. “I need help.” Her blue eyes pleaded with him. “I need your help.”

“Is it possible to go there and steal the young lad back?” Graeme asked.

She looked away then back again. “Time passes differently in Fairyland and so does age. When a fairy is born, they are a babe for only a few days because no one there has any desire to care for an infant. However long a fairy remains a youngling is up to the parents. Many fairies spend most of their lives as young adults, only growing old when their purpose in Fairyland fades.” She bit down on her lips momentarily then continued. “Though I appear to you as a young woman, I am in truth over four hundred years old in human years.”

Graeme looked at her incredulously once more. “Four hundred?”

She nodded. “As I said, time passes differently in Fairyland.”

He swallowed roughly. “What does that mean for Keiran? Are you saying he is now an adult?”

Aria nodded. “He would be the equivalent of a person who was a score and three.”

Graeme’s thoughts were in a turmoil from all she had told him about herself, Fairyland, and Keiran, yet one thing stood out from the rest as his anger dissipated. She had asked for his help. The woman, the warrior, who never asked anyone for anything, had requested a boon from him. He was as honoured as he was suspicious. “You know of a way to return to Fairyland?”

“There are many ways, and yet all have their risks. The Grey Lady is helping to determine the best possible way in this time of the year to not only get there, but to return safely as well,” she answered solemnly.

“The Grey Lady knows you wish to return for Keiran? She knows how to get in and out of Fairyland?”

“We discussed retrieving Keiran earlier today while the MacDonalds arrived,” Aria explained.

She turned her gaze from him and for a moment Graeme wondered what secrets he might have seen in those lovely eyes had she not turned away. “Before we venture into the unknown, I would have you tell me more about Fairyland so that I might prepare the men.”

“Nay.” She turned back to face him. “’Tis only you and I who will make this journey together. That way it is far safer for all concerned.”

Questions flooded his mind, and he was about to ask the first of them when a loud crash sounded from the hallway. Her hand moved to her sword and her gaze sought out Graeme’s as danger threatened. “Have the MacDonalds come to steal the flag?”

The air in the chamber hung heavy with tension as he also drew his weapon. “Wait here and guard the flag. I will go investigate.”

Using the shadows as a shield, Graeme crept from the chamber and into the hall. Night had fallen and only a few sparse candles lit the hallway as Graeme surveyed his surroundings. The only noise around him was the whisper of his own footsteps as he made his way down the long corridor towards the stairs.

A stair creaked and Graeme froze. The sound came again. He searched the hazy light with a growing sense of unease. Someone was there. He tightened his grip on his sword, ready for whatever battle was upon him.

Suddenly, three looming figures emerged from the shadows near the stairs and came forward, their weapons at the ready. The shadows made it hard to see things clearly, but Graeme would have sworn these were three of the men who had accompanied the MacDonald laird into the keep earlier. “What purpose have you to be roaming the halls of your host when all have taken to their beds?”

A man who was taller than the others stepped forward into the hazy light and Graeme could see it was the man who had been introduced to him as Ranald. “We heard a noise and thought tae investigate.”

“My men and I can handle the castle’s defences. You need not worry about your safety here,” Graeme replied with a hint of irritation.

“We heard the English had attacked you here not long ago and that the womenfolk were almost taken.”

The barb pierced Graeme’s skin, but he clamped his jaw against the slight. Because of a decoy, the men had all been elsewhere at the time of the Englishmen’s attack. “The MacLeod women are a force to be reckoned with.” It was both a statement and a threat that Graeme delivered with an edge to his words.

Instead of fear, a flicker of amusement reflected in Ranald’s eyes as he returned his sword to its sheath. The others did as well. “I dare say you have things well under control.” He offered a slight bow as he turned and headed for the stairs. “It is time for us to return to our beds.”

Graeme narrowed his gaze as he watched the men disappear into the shadows once more. Something about the encounter left him feeling unsettled. They had all gone back to their beds with very little fuss, almost as if they were . . . a distraction. Graeme’s heart seemed to freeze but not his feet. He was running even before the thought to do so formed in his mind.

“Aria!” The exclamation was part prayer, part battle cry.