What was she doing? If her aunts could see her now, they’d think she’d lost her mind. Perhaps she had.
For his part, Arran didn’t seem to feel the cold at all, and strode into the lake with all the confidence of someone who was born to water. In only moments, it was so deep that Jenna felt the bottom disappear and found herself swimming awkwardly, following Arran as he moved with confident strokes out towards the center of the lake. He turned to wait for her, treading water easily, and Jenna struggled up to him, trying to ignore the cold that seeped through her clothes and right into her bones.
“What now?” she gasped.
Even as she said the words, she felt something grab her ankles and begin to pull her under. She screamed, terror exploding through her, but then Arran was there, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against his hard, muscular chest.
“Take a deep breath and dinna fight it. Close yer eyes. Trust me. I will keep ye safe.”
Jenna sucked in a deep breath and clung onto Arran as she felt herself yanked into the dark, freezing water. It took everything she had not to panic, not to try and claw her way back to the surface, to hold her breath and close her eyes as he’d instructed. Arran’s arms tightened around her and the solid feel of him, hard and unmovable like granite, was the only thing that kept her from screaming as they went down, down, down, into darkness.
It was over in a heartbeat. Jenna’s lungs hadn’t even begun to strain for air when the blackness suddenly retreated, light appeared above, and then the two of them broke the surface with a whoosh. Jenna drew a great breath, gasping in lungfuls of the sweet, clean air.
She felt Arran give a powerful kick, and he pulled her over to a shelf of barnacle encrusted rocks. Jenna grabbed hold of a rock and shook her head, trying to clear the clinging threads of wet hair from her face.
“Are ye all right, lass?” Arran’s voice was so deep she felt it vibrating right through her chest.
With a start, she realized he was still holding her and that she was pressed against him, his wet clothes doing nothing to hide the hard ridges and contours of him.
Heat flooded her cheeks. “I… um… yes… I’m fine.”
If he noticed her embarrassment, he didn’t show it. He nodded as if satisfied and then released her. Despite herself, Jenna found herself a little disappointed as he moved away from her, grabbing a rock and then hauling himself up to sit on the lip.
She glanced around. She seemed to be in some sort of rock pool. It wasn’t large—perhaps five feet across, and encircled by boulders covered with barnacles and seaweed. Wherever she was, this was clearly not the lake anymore. She could hear the sound of waves crashing nearby.
Arran climbed to his knees on the rock shelf, water cascading off him, then held out a hand. Jenna took it and allowed Arran to haul her out of the pool and onto the rocks that circled it. Jenna’s legs felt a little wobbly, so she sat on one of the rocks while she caught her breath.
The rock pool nestled among tumbled boulders at the back of a beach where gentle waves lapped the shore of a horseshoe bay. Bobbing in the waters of the bay were the burned-out remains of boats in all shapes and sizes.
Oh God, she thought.I’m here. I’m really here. I’m in fifteenth century Scotland.
The enormity of the situation crashed in on her with the power of a tidal wave. She leaned over and deposited her breakfast all over the rocks.
*
Arran breathed deeply,savoring the salty sea-air that told him he was home. He glanced at the sky, trying to determine how much time had passed while he’d been in the future. The sun was lower in the sky than it had been but he didn’t know if this was the same day he’d left or another. Lir had been pretty sketchy on the details of how time travel worked. What he did notice was that the floating bodies had been removed, for which he was grateful.
He looked around for the goddess, expecting her to be waiting for him, ready to explain what to do next, but there was no sign of her. Climbing to his feet, he padded down to the water’s edge, trying to ignore the way his guts twisted at the sight of the broken hulks of his fishing fleet.
“Lir!” he shouted, his words swallowed by the pounding waves. “Lir!”
There was no response. The goddess, it seemed, had done all she was willing to do. Now it was up to him and the spellweaver.
He turned at a sudden sound and found the lass doubled over, retching into the sand.
“Lass?” he asked in concern, striding towards her.
She retched again and then wiped the back of her hand over her mouth. “I’m fine,” she muttered. “This is my first attempt at time traveling. Guess you have to get used to it. Like jet lag.”
The tales of MacFinnan spellweavers passed down through Arran’s clan spoke of women of immense power and wisdom who could turn you into a toad as soon as look at you. This raven-haired beauty spewing her guts into the sand was not what he’d envisaged at all. She seemed so… normal. Younger, and certainly more attractive than he’d expected.
Whatdidyou expect?he asked himself.Some wizened old crone with a cat?
Jenna wiped her mouth then climbed shakily to her feet.
“Can ye walk?” he asked her. “Or would ye like me to carry ye?”
She gave him a flat look. “I can walk just fine, thanks. Where are we going?”
