She opened her mouth to reply, but closed it again without saying anything. After everything she’d experienced, who was she to dismiss the existence of mythical beings?
Charlie took a step back, trying to absorb this new piece of information. This was far beyond anything she could have anticipated—a journey into an old legend, into a tale spun by the fireside. Her legs wobbled a little and she sat down in Niall’s chair.
He thumped the book shut, looking at her with concern. “Are ye all right, lass?”
“Fine. It’s just...it’s just...you don’t know how good it feels not to hide this anymore. I hadn’t realized how hard it was to keep secrets.”
“Aye,” he said softly. “Secrets are a burden that weigh us down. Sometimes they get so heavy ye can barely lift yer feet.”
She got the feeling he wasn’t talking about Irene MacAskill or time travel this time.
“Wait,” he said suddenly as if a thought had just occurred to him. “Ye are from Cardiff, aye? But notthisCardiff? The Cardiff of the twenty-first century?”
Charlie nodded. “That’s right. I flew up here.”
“Flew?”
“On a plane. Big metal contraptions that move through the sky.”
Niall’s eyes widened. Then he shook his head. “Well, however ye got here, what I’m wondering is why ye are so keen to return? From what ye tell me, yer movement through time occurred here, in Scotland. So if ye return to Cardiff, ye will just be returning to the Cardiff of my time, surely? I mean, I dinna understand all this time travel business. But if ye moved through time here in Scotland, surely it’s here that ye need to stay? Trying to return to Cardiff may not solve anything.”
The world seemed to tilt on its axis. The walls of the room swirled around her and she felt as if she were falling into a deep pit. She clutched at the edge of the desk, her knuckles white with the strain as she realized he was right.
Some part of her had known this, of course. But she’d buried that part, refusing to acknowledge it whilst clinging onto the one hope she had. Get home. Figure it all out from there.
But it had been a foolish, irrational hope.
“Maybe this is where ye are meant to be, lass,” Niall said softly.
Ye are far from where ye are meant to be, and drifting further every day the more ye close yer heart.
Could Niall be right?
“But...but...” she stammered. “How do I get home then?”
Niall shook his head. “I dinna know. But we’ll figure it out.” He walked over to her and perched on the desk by her side. “From my grandfather’s stories of the Fae, there is always a purpose to what they do. If Irene MacAskill brought ye here, it’s for a reason. Perhaps if we figure that out then we’ll find how to send ye home. Until then?” He watched her intently and she felt that little flip in her stomach again. “Until then ye will stay here. With me.”
He was so close that she could smell the pine-resin scent of his hair and see the tiny laughter lines at the corners of his eyes.
With me.
“So you’re not going to pack me off with Antonio then?”
He grimaced. “I didnae handle that very well, did I? I’m sorry, lass. I shouldnae have listened to them.”
“Listened to who?”
His eyes flicked to the coded letters on the table but he didn’t answer her question. “I’ll tell Antonio that the deal is off.”
He made to move away but Charlie grabbed his wrist. “Listened to who?” she repeated. “Niall, what is going on? Who told you to send me away? Why are you receiving coded letters? You asked if I trusted you? Well, now I’m asking you to do the same. Do you trust me? If so, trust me enough to tell me the truth.”
She had laid herself bare, told him everything, made herself vulnerable. Would he be willing to do the same?
We’ll figure this out together.But how could they do that if he kept secrets?
Niall looked down at her fingers wrapped around his wrist. Slowly, he reached out and placed his hand over hers. His was so large it engulfed hers easily.
“I...” he began. “There’s a lot about me that ye dinna know.”
