Nae young nor old, in her nineteenth spring.
Fair as the dawn, with roses on her cheek,
Yet fierce as the sun, her spirit not meek?—”
“Wait!” I snatch his hand but, startled by the heat of his skin, let go instantly. “You won’t bring someone else here if you say it out loud, will you?”
He laughs that frowny laugh again—the one where he looks surprised to be making the sound—and taps a finger under my chin. “I can’t imagine there’s more than one such as you.”
Deep inside me, a tiny ember glows to life.
His expression is unreadable as he finishes, the words settling between us like a spell.
“Her heart’s true longing lies on Scottish land.
Come to us now, beside kin take thy stand.
Come thee, bold lass, whose soul burns steadfast.
Come she, whose beauty time cannot outlast.”
With a shrug, he adds quickly, “So you see? It was meant for your mother. But you are those things more than she.”
He says it so casually, but I don’t feel casual at all. My mouth has gone dry. I understand the red hair, red cheeks part. And sure, I’m nineteen. But steadfast? Beautiful?
Is this how guys speak in the past or just this guy?
He goes distant all of a sudden, and somehow that’s even more unsettling.
I change the subject. “So, what?” I ask with a nervous laugh. “Witches can just chant a thing and make peopledisappear? So can’t someone just chant me back out of this hellhole?” I’m trying to be snarky and regret it instantly.
Callum straightens and pulls his body away from mine. His hand drifts from my shoulder, and I feel about ten degrees colder.
For a moment, something fragile hung between us. Something rare as any magic. But I broke the spell, and I hate myself for it.
Until he admits, “I imagine there’s a way.”
The cold inside me hardens into resolve, settling deep in my bones. Callum is right. Icando this. Poppa would expect no less. He’d tell me to stop feeling sorry for myself. If I can survive Janet, I can survive anything.
Poppa. I have to get back to him. Back to my life.
Iwillfind my way home.
I need a plan. Planning will feel good. It’ll feel like control again.
Besides, I have an ally in Callum. That’s more than Janet had when she landed in modern time.
The realization shames me. Strengthens me.
I have to get back. I have to see my mother. Suddenly, I have a million things to ask her. A million things to say.
“When can we start figuring it out?” I ask eagerly. “Is there something I should do now to prepare?”
He pauses, his gaze heavy on me. “Is my time so verra different from your own?” His voice is quiet. Almost sad.
The shift catches me off guard. I exhale, feeling unexpectedly sad now, too—for him. Because he has no idea.
“It is, Callum,” I say softly. “It really, really is.” Sorrow tightens my throat. “I just…really want to go home.”
