A little sliver of excitement slid through her belly and she couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. Tomorrow she would marry Magnus, the man she loved more than anything in the world. It still felt like a dream. The fact that she was going to marry him in Dun Saith, the ancestral home of the Sutherland clan, and the headquarters of the Order of the Osprey, and in fifteenth century Scotland was even more unbelievable.
But it was real, and here she was on the brink of starting a new life, a life that she’d never in a million years have dreamed she’d be starting.
So she’d come out here alone, telling herself that it was because Snaffles needed some exercise, but in reality knowing it was because she’d been trying to escape. Not from Magnus, of course. Never him. But from the reality of the monumental step she was about to take and a decision that she’d been putting off.
Did she want to go home? Did she want to return to the 21st century, to noisy streets and towering skyscrapers? To a world where she could order pizza at two in the morning, where her dog had a microchip, and where everybody carried a phone in their pockets?
Magnus had given her the choice. He would come with her, if she wanted, leaving everything he knew behind. Nothing spoke of his love for her more than that gesture and it made her love him all the more.
She walked on, Snaffles trotting along at her side. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, pink and wet against his dark face fur. He looked up at her with a wagging tail and sparkling eyes that seemed to say “Everything is going to be alright.” She laughed softly, reaching down to ruffle his fur.
She thought about her life in the 21st century—the hustle and bustle of city living, the technological gadgets that made life easier but somehow seemed to take up so much time. She remembered standing in lines, sitting in traffic, endless hours spent staring at screens. She thought about the pollution, the noise, the stress...
Then she thought about her friends, her family, and everything she missed.
Aargh! What should she do?
“What do you think, boy?” she asked Snaffles. “Should we stay here or go home?”
Snaffles merely grinned at her. Izzy sighed. She’d been able to put off her decision for the past few weeks because Rory Stewart, a half-Fae member of the Order of the Osprey who could manipulate time and send her home, had been away in Ireland. But now he was on his way home and would be here for the wedding tomorrow. Which meant she couldn’t put off her decision any longer.
Suddenly, Snaffles lifted his head, his ears twitching as he caught sight of something in the distance. With a bark of excitement, he bounded off in that direction.
“Snaffles! Come here!”
He ignored her, too engrossed in whatever had caught his attention. She growled. That dog. One of these days, he might just do as he was told.
As she caught up, she saw what had so captivated him. A cat sat on a low stone wall, its emerald eyes locked onto the ecstatic dog who was down on his front paws, back end waggling as he invited the disinterested cat to play.
The cat was a striped tabby with an enormous fluffy tail who looked for all the world like a Scottish Wildcat. Her breath hitched as she recognized him.
“Baxter?”
The cat blinked owlishly then swished his tail back and forth.
“It is you, isn’t it? You’re Baxter?” Izzy said. Then she threw up her hands and laughed. “Listen to me! I’m having a conversation with a cat!”
“Naught wrong with that, my dear,” said a voice behind her. “Ye should hear some of the rows Baxter and I have. Honestly, the language he uses could turn the air blue!”
Izzy spun. Standing behind her was a tiny old woman with storm-gray hair in a bun and eyes like chips of obsidian. She beamed up at Izzy with a cherubic smile.
“Irene?” Izzy gasped, staggering back a pace. “Irene MacAskill?”
“Were ye expecting someone else?”
“No, I... I wasn’t expecting anyone,” Izzy stuttered, her mind spinning at the sight of the old woman.
Snaffles ran over and nudged his head against Irene’s hand, demanding attention.
“Oh, ye are a good boy, aren’t ye?” she cooed, her old fingers scratching behind the dog’s ears. Irene’s eyes twinkled as she straightened. The wind rustled her bun slightly, loose strands of gray hair dancing around her face like wisps of cloud.
“I see ye’ve met my Baxter,” she said, nodding to the cat sitting on the wall, watching this exchange with a look of boredom on his feline face.
Izzy nodded, her gaze bouncing between the elderly woman and the tabby cat. “I didn’t know cats could...um... travel.” She didn’t want to say the wordstime travel.This was crazy enough as it was.
“Ah, Baxter is special,” Irene said, her eyes twinkling. “He’s not just any cat.”
I’ll bet he isn’t, Izzy thought.If he belongs to a Fae.
