“My,” Arran said from where he sat in the saddle behind her. “Anyone would think we’ve dragged ye out of bed in the middle of the night.”
Jenna looked around at the landscape that was slowly rolling past. The sea lay straight ahead, a smooth, dark sheet that stretched to the horizon, with the just the faintest blush of dawn turning its edges pink.
“Arran,” she said drily, twisting in the saddle to look at him. “Thisisthe middle of the night. Humans are not supposed to be up before dawn, and you’ll never convince me otherwise.”
He laughed softly and the sound lit a little warm glow in her belly. She liked it when he laughed. “Then I willnae try. But if ye remember,yewere the one who wanted to set out at first light. Ye were quite insistent about it, as I recall.”
Jenna harrumphed. “Yeah, seemed a good idea at the time. Now? Not so much. How long until we get there?”
Arran dropped the reins, leaving Bran to plod along docilely with the other horses, and unrolled the map Jenna and Merrick had found yesterday. “It’s just a few more miles along the coast. We should be there within the hour.”
Within the hour. A tremor ran through her, and Jenna couldn’t decide whether it was excitement or trepidation or a bit of both. In under an hour, they would reach the first of the anchor stones used to place Skye’s magic. When they did, Jenna would repair it, restore the magical barrier that protected Skye and its people from raiders, and Arran would pay her the agreed fee.
She could be home by lunchtime. She could have paid off her debts by this afternoon. She could be curled up on her sofa watching a trashy movie and demolishing a family-sized tub of ice cream by this evening! Hallelujah!
And yet, she didn’t feelquiteas relieved by this as she expected. Sure, she would be going home to her normal life, but that meant returning to that sinking feeling in her stomach when she woke every morning and that horrible hollow feeling when she returned home to an empty house each evening. She hadn’t felt like that since she’d come here to Skye. It was, she had to admit, in large part because she was kept so busy and was so bewildered half the time that she didn’t have time to think about anything else.
But, she also had to admit, it was also in large part due to the man seated behind her right now.
She could feel the warmth of him against her back, even though she did her best to keep space between them. Every now and then, if Bran stumbled on a rock or picked up speed, she would find herself pushed back against Arran and she found she liked it. A lot. Why was that? Why was she having confusing feelings about a man she barely knew, and who was from another time?
You’re just confused, she told herself.You’re just on the rebound after Alex. That’s all this is. There’s nothing more to it.
Jenna spotted Mal up ahead, riding back towards them. Arran pulled Bran to a halt and waited for his cousin.
“It’s just over the rise,” Mal reported. “Right on the shore. It’s lucky we came now, as it will be submerged at high tide.”
“Any sign of enemies?”
Mal shook his head, his blond braids whipping. “I’ve sent scouts north and south along the coast and a couple are posted up on Carrick’s Rise behind us to keep an eye on the sea. If anyone tries to take us by surprise, we’ll know about it long before they get here.”
Since the attack yesterday, and discovering that the raiders knew about her, Arran had been taking Jenna’s safetyveryseriously. A littletooseriously, in Jenna’s opinion. He’d given four of his men the sole duty of guarding her. They followed her everywhere she went, even inside Dun Tabor itself, and she was pretty sure they would even have come into the privy with her had she not slammed the door in their faces and told them to wait outside.
Arran had brought thirty of his men this morning and they surrounded her and Arran like an iron fist, each one of them grim, with hands never far from their weapons. It was overkill, surely? As far as they knew, the raiders didn’t know what she looked like, but if Arran wanted to advertise to all and sundry who she was, having her surrounded by thirty of the laird’s best warriors was a sure way to do it! Not that Arran would listen to this argument, mind you. The man was as stubborn as a mule.
They carried on riding and the rocky trail they had been following reached the brow of a rise and then began to angle sharply down towards the sea. The sun was fully up now, hanging just above the horizon, a blazing yellow ball that turned the sea to polished amber and promised a sultry day ahead. There was hardly any wind and so the sea was still and calm, with only the soft sound of breakers on theshore to interrupt the silence.
It was a beautiful morning and at any other time Jenna might have stopped to appreciate it. But now she felt her stomach squirming with nerves. The moment they had topped the rise, she had felt the presence of the anchor stone. It pulled on her senses like a magnet, sending a faint tingle across her skin. It might be weak and fading now, but she sensed that the magic the anchor stone had once held had been immense.
“Wait here,” Arran commanded his men. “Keep a watch on the approaches from all directions and sound the alarm if ye see anything untoward.”
“Aye,” Mal replied. “Dinna worry, cousin. We willnae be caught unawares.”
While the men spread out in a cordon fifty feet back from the shore, Arran guided Bran farther down the trail and pulled him to a halt right on the edge of the water. There was only a thin beach to speak of, full of sea-rounded pebbles and driftwood brought in by the tide, and the rest of the shoreline was made up of shelves of rock and boulders, pitted with hollows and depressions that formed rock pools at low tide.
Arran swung from the saddle and then helped Jenna down. She suppressed a wince as she landed on her aching feet. First thing she was going to do when she got home was book herself a massage. In fact, she might go the whole hog and treat herself to a spa day. Manicure. Pedicure. Perhaps even a new hairdo. Heaven.
“The stone is just there, lass,” Arran said, raising his finger and pointing at a single standing stone that rose out of the shingle and driftwood on the beach.
“I know,” she replied. “I can feel it. Stay here. I’ll go alone.”
Arran nodded tightly. “As ye wish. Call me if ye need aught.”
Jenna took a deep breath, gave Arran a shaky smile, and began picking her way through the boulders and rock pools. The standingstone dominated her vision. Its sides, submerged during high tide, glistened darkly. She didn’t know what stone it was made from, but it was so dark as to be almost black and seemed to suck all the light into itself.
As she reached it, she saw markings were carved into its weathered face, words in a language she couldn’t read, and swirling symbols that she didn’t recognize.
“There you are,” she said to it. “Let’s have a look at you.”
