Page 85 of Highlander’s Hope

He stilled and blinked. “Living there? With Konnor?”

She nodded. “Aye. I hope so.”

“And what about Grandfather? And my uncles? And Isbeil? What about Glenkeld?”

“They’d stay here. Ye’d probably never see them again.”

She bit her lip, gathering strength for what she was about to say next. “There’s one more question, Colin. The question of yer inheritance. Yer grandfather MacDougall wants to have ye. He wants to legitimize ye. That would mean ye’d have right of inheritance. Ye could stay here and get lands and status from him. I just want ye to ken all yer options.”

His nostrils flared. “Never. Nae land nor inheritance will make me want to be related to the man who tried to harm ye.”

The weight of a boulder lifted off Marjorie’s chest. She beamed. “Oh, thank Jesu.”

He frowned and looked at his shoes, thinking. “Mother, I’ve never been anywhere other than Glenkeld in my life.” He looked around the woods longingly. “And I really want to.”

He glanced at Isbeil and sighed. “I’d be sad to never see my grandda and uncles. But I’d be sadder to see ye the way ye’ve been since Konnor left.”

Oh, her kind, brave, loving boy.

His eyes shone. “And I really want to see the carriages that drive themselves and the giant iron dragons that fly in the air…”

Her vision blurred with tears. “Are ye certain? Ye want to go?”

He nodded, a fervent smile on his face. “Aye. I want to play soccer with Konnor.”

Chapter 32

Five days later…

What the hell was Marjorie supposed to do with this godforsaken rock? It lay flat and round and as large as the seat of the great chair in the great hall. The carving of three wavy circles lay and a thick, straight line piercing it brought a nervous shiver through her. By its side was an imprint of a large hand, right in the stone. It looked like someone had pressed their hand in clay, and it had dried up this way.

Marjorie was no Isbeil, but even she felt something—like the waver in the air over rocks in direct sunlight on a hot day—except today was as gray and as cold as this rock.

Marjorie looked back at Colin who held the Ticker clenched in his fist and studied the rock with a frown. He had a shoulder pouch thrown over his shoulder with only a few valuable possessions: a few silver coins, enough to buy passage as far as China—the farthest destination Marjorie could think of—an antler comb, a waterskin with water, clean linen cloths, as well as several jars with healing potions and herbs. There was also a rope for making rabbit snares, a meat pie, cheese, bread, and bannock for the few days on the road. Marjorie had grandfather’s sword in the sheath behind her back for when Colin would be grown enough to be able to wield it, as well as her bow and a quiver full of arrows. She was dressed in her leather breeches, perfect for a long way. A woolen cloak hung from her shoulders, for the nights they’d need to sleep outside in the woods. She wondered how long it would take to find Konnor—a few moons? A year? Perhaps, more. They had to be ready for everything. Colin had Marjorie’s dagger on his belt next to his wooden sword.

She’d said goodbye to the whole castle, explaining to them Konnor had proposed to her and they were going to be with him. The shock Marjorie saw in the people’s eyes was overwhelming. Malcolm said she was clearly out of her mind and threatened to lock her in her room until her father came back. Muir said he’d come with her. Marjorie cried for a while over Tamhas’s grave, and somehow, she felt supported and blessed after.

The whole clan was in turmoil, staring at her as though she’d lost her mind. Isbeil was the only one who actually looked at her as though she was sane, and she calmed the people down.

Marjorie considered going to Inverlochy first to see if her clan was there and to say goodbye, or if she should wait for them to return from the war. But she was sure that if she did, they’d never let her go. Her father was very capable of locking her in her room until she came back to her senses.

So no matter how much it hurt to possibly never seeing them again, to not be able to say goodbye, it was the best thing to do. But she did write long letters to Craig, Domhnall, Owen, and to her father. She only told the truth about time travel to Craig. He had watched over her all her life and rescued her from Alasdair. She owed him the truth, whether he would believe it or not. He’d probably think she’d lost her mind, but by the time he read the letter, she’d hopefully be long gone. Colin dictated her his own goodbye to everyone.

With that done, and Glenkeld left under Malcolm’s careful supervision, Marjorie, with Colin by her side, went through the woods with her stomach squeezing in anxiety. She was afraid both that the rock would work, and that it wouldn’t.

And now that they were here, she had no idea what to do.

“Mayhap ye put yer hand in the handprint?” Colin said, hugging himself.

“But what if I go and ye dinna?”

“Then mayhap ye take my hand?”

Marjorie nodded and sighed. She took Colin’s palm in hers. His was warm and solid, hers was cold and shaking. She looked into his eyes. “Ready?”

“Aye.”

She released a long, audible breath. “Godspeed.”