“Is my sire still here?”
“He is.”
“Would you ask him why I am here? Why John?”
She paused for a moment and closed her eyes. “They will need someone on the inside to lead them to Kelvan and Glenna. Both must be destroyed, or Clan Grantham will never be free.”
“So, we are here to help the others find us.”
“Or Kyla would never be found. And she needs to be. They could take her and leave the area, never to return. But it’s not her time yet.”
“I still don’t understand how we can help.”
“It’s simple, actually. No one can hurt John. Me, I’m a faery, so I am immune to their weaponry. And the two of us can protect ourselves and find our way out when the time comes.”
“True. So I have no purpose?”
“Alasdair, there is another man standing next to your sire who looks like both of you, though he is taller.”
Alasdair could barely contain himself, his thoughts going to the two men he adored and admired more than any other—his sire and grandsire. “Grandda?” His voice cracked, something he was powerless to stop.
“Aye. His name is Alexander. And he has a message for you.”
Alasdair looked at every corner of the small chamber, wishing he could see any of the three—his father, his mother, or his grandfather. “I’m listening.”
“Alex says, ‘You have a verra important purpose and you must listen carefully.’”
Alasdair teared up. “I’m listening, Grandda.”
“You were brought here formydaughter. Your grandmother and I pushed you to do all you did for this purpose. We will take care of your son, Alasdair. We cannot help Kyla. You must.”
Alasdair covered his face with his bound hands, so humbled by the possibility that his grandfather was speaking to him. “I’m honored, Grandsire. I’ll make you proud.”
Then he swiped away the tear that had rolled down his cheek.
He had a job to do, and he would see it through.
On his honor as the grandson of Alexander and Madeline Grant.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Alasdair’s bairns finally meet their grandparents and great-grandparents.
A fortnight passed, and Alasdair and his family sat around a fire under the stars near the beach south of Duart Castle. It was just the five of them, something they wished to do before they returned to the mainland.
“I know you think I’m daft, Emmalin, but this place was calling to me. I had to come. We will return in a few days, but I had to spend one more night on the coastline. No sandy beaches on Grant land.”
“It is lovely here. I’ll agree with you, though the nights are surely getting cooler.” She tugged the plaid up over her lap, covering her hands.
Alasdair and Emmalin sat against a tree farthest from the water, Emmalin leaning against her husband so he could wrap his arms around her to keep her warm, the flames from the roaring fire not far away.
“But that chill is in the air to stay. We need to get back before the snow begins.”
Their three bairns, John, Ailith, and Coira, spent their time combing the edge of the water for shells or anything else interesting, a pail set out to hold their best findings, the light from the fire helping them sort through their treasures.
“It’s been a wonderful trip, but it’s time to return,” Alasdair said. “I thank you for your patience.”
“Mama,” Ailith called out. “May we return next summer? I wish to swim in the sea again. Mayhap when it’s warmest.”
