“The markings arna the same.”
“None of them?”
“Nae, none of them, I daena ken…” He looked around at the horizon. “We are in Scotland, but?—”
“Are we? Because one of the bags has a tag that says…” I held that bag to show him. “Made in Texas.”
“What dost it mean?”
“Texas is in America, a different state, and as you know, America was created in 1776, basically. So I wondered if we were in a more modern time and possibly...” I squinted out at the mountains, uncertain if it would make sense at all what I was about to say. “Could we be in the state of Texas?”
He frowned and shook his head. “Nae, I daena think so. I recognize all of this. The munro tae the north is Ben Macdui, and—” he lifted an elbow toward another peak, “there is Bod an Deamhain. That means we are near Linn of Dee. Unless this place, Texas, has a munro that looks like this…?”
“A munro is a mountain?”
“Aye.”
“I don’t know… but I don’t think so. What does Bod an Deamhain mean?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “I daena think I can say it before a lass, much less a princess.”
“Tell me. We are in this together. No secrets.”
He cleared his throat, pink spreading up his face. “It means, well… the Cock of the Demon.”
I snorted, then burst out laughing. “Oh, well, yes, I can see that. Tall and, um… pointy.”
“Pointy?” He groaned. “Och, nae. Ye ought tae say sturdy, sharp as a blade. Ye daena want tae insult it, else the weather will turn.”
“Right. ‘Pointy’ is an insult. Got it.” I lifted my voice toward the horizon. “Mister Demon Mountain, very spectacular shape you’ve got there. Big, with great girth. Really puncturing that sky. Please don’t make the weather bad.”
Torin threw his head back and laughed, deep and hard. “Och, that was delightful. We’ll hae fair weather for days now—even while it rains.”
“Wait, is it going to rain?”
“Aye. Soon.”
He sniffed theatrically at the air. “These are Scots trees, too — you ken them by their smell. We Scots delight in our aromas.” He gave a sniff under his arm and groaned. “I will be needin’ a wash.”
“Well, if we can get the markings right on the vessel, maybe we can shower back at home.”
Torin nodded, his face close to mine, because I was still gripping his elbow — closer than I was comfortable with, but a closeness I also liked.
“We’re in Scotland, but we don’t knowwhen.Could be anytime, right?”
“Aye.” His gaze dropped back to the vessel. “I canna determine what tae do with it.”
“This makes me nervous. We could end up anywhere. What if we just put it down for a minute, get our wits around us?”
“Aye, and we need tae take the horses — we canna leave them behind. We hae tae pack them first.”
I looked around, frowning. “We made a mess.”
Torin said, “I hae landed many times in verra dangerous situations. We hae tae be ready. Twould be good tae get cleanedup. I need food. A little rest so I am ready tae fight. Did I mention that I am verra hungry?”
He set the vessel carefully on the ground.
“Me too. There is food, Torin, but none of it looks appetizing.” I passed him the bundle.
