Page 43 of Taming the Highland Beauty

Since I am bound to the borders of Dunvegan, I must stay behind. Lady Janet floated back and forth, her agitation obvious.

“Your presence is necessary here, Mother.” Callum stood close to his mother, close enough to lend her comfort without touching her ghostly mist.

How am I in any way necessary? I am a ghost.

“You are still our mother, and as such you are worried about your children, and perhaps about the outcome that affects you greatly.”

At Callum’s gentle words, Lady Janet calmed. When did you become so grown up and wise?

Callum returned her smile. “I have been for a long while. It just took everyone time to notice.”

Lady Janet chuckled. All right. Enough of placating your mother. Off you go to save the day.

At Lady Janet’s words, the burden of what she, Callum, and the others were about to do settled around Gille’s shoulders. No longer was it merely Lady Janet and Gille’s fates that were tied to their success today. Minerva’s fate hung in the balance as well, as did the fate of the selkies, the forest, and the MacLeods.

Gille drew a deep breath of the salty air and held it a long moment before letting it slide from her lungs. She had to be brave. She had to bear the burden of this one last quest. All the pieces were aligning, they simply had to see this trip through to the end. Hopefully, by sundown, it would all be behind them.

Chapter Eighteen

As Marcus had predicted, less than an hour later Gille stood on the quarterdeck of the Cliodna with a compass in her hands. They were to sail to the south-east along the coast of the Isle of Skye, navigating through the waters of Loch Dunvegan and then into the open sea.

While she waited for them to get underway, her gaze shifted to Callum who helped prepare the ship for their departure, rolling up the rope ladder and securing it over the ship’s rounded deck edge. Alastair assisted the crew in raising and securing the anchor while Gwendolyn, Rowena, and Aria were below deck seeing to the supplies.

Marcus stood at the helm, shouting orders to his crew. Men dressed in blue and white striped shirts with red handkerchiefs tied loosely about their necks hurried across the deck in response to his commands, unfurling sails and tightening ropes. The ship lurched forward then picked up speed as the white canvas caught the wind, propelling them to the south-east.

When they were out in deeper waters, Pearl raised her hands from her position at the stern and with a chant as ancient as time itself, enchanted the water beneath them. The ship picked up speed, sailing swiftly around the receding coastline of Skye.

The wind whipped tendrils of Gille’s hair about her face and tugged at her skirt as Gille grasped the railing before her with one hand and drew the length of a MacLeod tartan Callum had lent her about her shoulders with the other. The ship rose and fell with the waves. Each downward motion brought a new surge of tangy sea spray over the bow of the ship. Just like the ship they were all pressing forward towards new horizons.

With a hand, Gille secured her hair to glance at the sun as it began its march across the sky. They had much to accomplish this day, but in keeping with her vow to remain positive, she had to believe that working together they would be successful.

With renewed hope, Gille leaned against the railing, relaxing into the moment, watching the endless greenish-black water that stretched before her. Instead of the disquieting feeling she would have expected, the isolation brought her a sense of peace. Gille closed her eyes. The stillness of the moment settled around her. She listened to the song of the wind stirring the sea. Very soon, the lyrics she needed would be hers and she could make plans for a future that extended beyond one more sunrise.

Gille thought back to her life a mere six days ago when she was trapped in the forest, alone. She opened her eyes and smiled. Despite the damage to the forest, she was happier now. Stronger, more positive, more in control of her life, and less consumed by her possibly imminent death. She had enjoyed her time with the MacLeods, with Callum. It was because of them and the friendship they extended that she had changed from the beast of the forest to the woman she was now—the adventurer sailing to find the last piece of the puzzle that would give her everything she had ever wanted. A family, love, and hope for her future.

Leaning on the railing, she gazed at the endless expanse of sea. The voices of the crew working below blended into a low steady hum. After a long while, Gille pushed away from the railing and went to join the others.

What should have taken them six or more hours to travel almost two hundred miles, had taken them less than five when the sheltered bay of Elgol came into sight. The sun had reached its zenith as the eight members of the travelling party climbed down the rope ladder and into a lowered boat. Gille clutched the knapsack in her lap that contained the moonstone and writing implements as they rowed towards shore.

“Just as I had hoped. We have arrived at low tide,” Marcus said, rowing them towards a promising inlet along the shore. “That gives us one hour, give or take, to find the cave and accomplish what we must.”

The search to find the cave was not difficult. As soon as they landed on the rocky beach and secured the boat, they saw a wider inlet with vertical sides that led to a cave in the distance.

“Careful,” Callum warned, taking Gille’s hand as they traversed the rocks, covered in slippery seaweed, to the cave’s opening.

“I have heard of this cave by its Gaelic name, Slochd Altimen, which means nursing cave. The cave itself does not flood, but the entrance fills with water and cuts off access in or out. If we become trapped, we will have to wait twelve hours until the tide drops again,” Marcus warned.

Gille’s heart pounded in her chest as she gingerly tested the stability of the rocks beneath her feet. They did not have twelve hours to spare. If they missed the tide, she would become a tree within the cave. Fear tempered Gille’s excitement. This was only one more challenge that they would overcome.

When they reached the cave, Gille saw two openings. The one on the right was filled with water, but the one on the left appeared above water, but was shrouded in darkness, its mouth yawning open like a gaping maw. “It is so dark,” Gille said with a frown.

A moment later, Alastair and Marcus lit two torches, then held them towards the opening. The flickering light illuminated the jagged walls and the inky darkness beyond. With a deep breath, Gille stepped into the cave, her heart pounding.

Callum followed close behind, as the torches cast dancing shadows on the walls. As they ventured deeper into the cave, the darkness seemed to swallow them whole, leaving them feeling small and insignificant in the cavernous space.

Initially, the cave was muddy, but as they followed the curve in the path, they found themselves in a vast cavern made of calcium carbonate. The ceiling of the cave was a breathtaking spectacle, adorned with a multitude of stalactites that hung like icicles frozen in time. Some were thin and delicate, while others were thick and imposing, their surfaces etched with intricate patterns. The light from the torches danced and flickered, illuminating the stalactites in a dazzling array of colours. It was as if they were gazing up at a celestial forest, each stalactite an upside-down looming tree reaching from the heavens towards the cave floor.

But to reach the stalactites beyond, they had to navigate a flowstone staircase. Although it looked slippery, it was surprisingly easy to ascend. At the top of the naturally formed staircase the cavern was a breathtaking sight, its walls adorned with intricate formations of rock and mineral. The air was cool and damp, carrying the scent of earth and stone.