A secret dance when the moon proves false.
Seek within the heart’s deep well,
A selfless step where shadows dwell.
When icy whispers bid you near,
A sacrifice, the path will clear.
Beneath the gaze of stars untold,
A choice to make, a tale unfolds.
Through whispered echoes, twenty-seven times four,
Forever love will bind once more.”
The haunting melody lingered in the frigid air, a spectral echo of the mysterious woman’s presence. I kept my eyes shut for a moment longer, praying that James would be alive and well once her ethereal song had woven the thread of life back to him. I pictured him waking up, as if from a long slumber, happy to see me and ready to continue on our journey back to the castle.
I opened my eyes and stared down at James, holding my breath as I waited for his eyes to flicker back to life, for his chest to rise and fall once again. The moments stretched on, and nothing happened. He lay cold and lifeless in my arms still.
“Why isn’t he waking up?”I asked, looking up to where the woman had stood. But she was gone, and nothing but the wintry landscape stretched before me and James, still in death’s grip. The reality of the situation crashed back with an unforgiving force, and I let go of the breath I was holding. James was untouched by the enchantment she had placed upon him.
The north wind, relentless and unforgiving, bit into my skin as if mocking the fleeting promise of our reunion. James lay still, his lifeless form stark against the white snow. I drew in another shaky breath, attempting to steady myself, as my world broke into pieces around me. The winds blew even fiercer now, carrying away the remnants of our shared dreams and leaving me utterly alone with nothing more than winter’s harsh touch for comfort.
Chapter Fifty-One
Frozen Tears
As I cradled James’s lifeless body upon my lap, I gently ran my hands through his hair, and silent tears flowed down my cheeks, landing on my dress, marking it with my sorrow. It dawned on me as I looked down upon my love: the woman who had offered her aid in exchange for the bracelet was a fairy, a trickster, who had played me for a fool. I feared I had made a treacherous bargain. In that desperate moment, I would have bartered anything to save James, even striking a deal with a fairy.
Gran’s warnings echoed in my mind—tales of the cunning fae, who were skilled in weaving illusions and ensnaring desperate hearts. My newfound love for James and the future we envisioned together had clouded my judgment. The possibility that she might hold the key to his return drove me to make a bargain in haste.
With the landscape as the solitary witness to the tragic scene, I sat alone on the ice and began to sob uncontrollably. I had lost my love; his life vanished like a wisp of frost-kissed air. With my hurt ankle and no horse, I was likely to lose Gran, as well as myself. Even if Gran were still alive at this point, there was little chance I would be able to make it back in time for the potion to work. With little hope to fuel me, I lay freezing beside my love in the valley where we had pledged our love to one another. It would be a fitting end to our story, like Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet.
In the numbing cold, my skirts froze to the ice, and my fingers grew numb. I clung to James, praying that the magic might still take effect. Maybe the spell the fairy had woven with her song just needed time. So, I waited, perched above the water of Loch Ness.
As I began to succumb to the encroaching cold, my senses dulled, and the sounds around me began to fade away. I felt like I was drifting off into a dream. Just as my eyes grew too heavy to keep open, the distant sound of hooves upon the frozen ground broke through the biting wind. At first, I thought it might be a figment of my imagination, a desperate attempt at manifesting help within the chilling silence that lay around me. The sound drew nearer, however, and I strained my ears.
Through the haze of sorrow and numbness, a shadowy figure emerged on horseback. Hooves crunched against the icy ground, creating a rhythmic melody that clashed with the mournful whispers of the north wind. As the silhouette drew closer, I faintly recognized the familiar form of the rider. The horse halted at the shoreline, its breath visible in the frigid air. The rider, his features obscured by a hood, dismounted and cautiously approached me on the ice.
“What has happened?”I heard a deep low voice say. The voice was familiar, but I was having a hard time placing it as the cold had caused my thinking to slow. I looked up to see the man remove his thick woolen hood and reveal himself. Standing there, shock spreading across his face, was Malcolm. I tried to speak but I had lost my voice to the cold that hadnearly consumed me. I tried to sit up, but my body ached with protest.
“Whoa there. Take it slow, lassie,”he said in a gentle voice as he bent down, scooped me up in his arms, and walked me back to his horse, which stood on the edge of the loch tied next to another, the horse that had been frightened in the woods the day prior.
Atop the horse’s back, I teetered side to side, my frozen limbs not working properly to hold me steady. I watched with tear-stained eyes as Malcolm scooped up James’s body and walked it back to the other horse. He laid him atop it and secured his body with ropes. Tears continued to fall from my eyes as if they were bottomless wells.
Malcolm mounted the horse upon which I sat, holding me securely with one arm as he steered us back toward his house. As I looked back at the horse carrying James’s body, I caught sight of Malcolm’s face. His stark eyes were full of pain, the pain of one who has lost a child, and the ache within me grew. In the aftermath of the storm, the journey back passed swiftly, the winds now a mere whisper against the quiet backdrop of our shared sorrow.
Upon our arrival in the late afternoon, Malcolm, his face marked with grief, aided me in dismounting the horse and guided me into the warmth of his home. Positioning me near the crackling fire, he handed me my bag and walked into the other room. In a grief-induced trance, I sat staring into the fire—a stark reminder of the warmth now extinguished in my life. I could hear the muted conversations between Malcolm and Addie in the adjacent kitchen.
“I found them in the middle of the loch. James was already gone, and Cora was half dead herself from the cold. Poor thing, eyes were near swollen shut from all the tears she had shed.”
“No, not James!”I heard Addie cry out, her sobs filling the room.“How?”she asked once she had composed herself.
“It appears he fell through the ice on Loch Ness and drowned. However, I know not the particulars, for Cora has yet to speak a word,”Malcolm replied. Just then little Alice came running in from the other room, curious to know what her parents were whispering about.
“Is James back, Mama?”little Alice asked, and the room fell silent.
