The memory of his brother brought a pang of loss stabbing through his heart, and a renewed conviction to find his cousin once he’d sold the treasures he carried.
Perhaps this boy shared his sense of loneliness and loss.
“What are you doing out here all alone, with no food or provisions?”
“I’m on my way to Skye,” the boy answered, stopping to lick the sticky porridge from his fingers. “To my mam’s folk, the MacCabes. Now that both my mam and da are gone, finding my way to my kin seemed the best thing to do. I had food with me in the beginning, but no enough to last the whole of my trip.”
“Skye?” It was as if the hand of some benevolent god had dropped this boy into his path. “Will yer travels take you anywhere near the MacLeod stronghold?”
“Indeed they will,” the boy confirmed, nodding vigorously as he scraped the last bits of porridge from the pot. “My uncle watches over the MacLeod’s sheep. Dunvegan is exactly where I’m headed.”
Fate had intervened on Mathew’s behalf, sending this boy to guide him on his journey. Mathew clung to the knowledge like a lamb to the ewe’s teat. He had to believe in it. Otherwise, he’d be left with nothing but the deep black worry that hung over him day and night.
“Dunvegan is my destination as well. If you’ll agree to act as my guide, I’ll share my provisions along the way to keep yer belly filled.”
“Done!” Dobbie agreed, extending a dirty hand to shake. “And a fine deal you’ve struck, too, if I do say so myself. I ken the old man who ferries travelers across the water to Skye quite well and I’m sure I can get you his best rate for the crossing.”
“Excellent!” Mathew tossed one of his blankets to the boy. “If you’ve finished eating, we should get some sleep now, aye? I’d have us make an early start in the morning.”
Dobbie nodded and wrapped the blanket around himself before dropping down next to the fire. If the snores coming from his direction were any indication, the boy fell asleep almost as soon as his head touched the ground.
Mathew lay awake, staring up into the clear night sky, afraid to allow himself to fall back into the world of dreams where the hideous red-eyed monster lurked.
As he lay wide-eyed, waiting for sleep to find him, his brother’s voice echoed in his thoughts.
Only a fool would trust anyone but his own self. No other will ever care for yer fate the same as you do.
His brother had lived by that motto.
“And where did that get you, Hugo?” Mathew’s whispered question floated up into the dark, cold sky.
Dead—that’s where it had gotten his brother. Dead, with his head thrown clear across the room from his body.
Whether or not Dobbie was a gift presented by the hand of Fate, Mathew planned to make good use of the boy. Having someone who actually knew his way to Dunvegan would save him time and effort and be well worth the expense of sharing his provisions.
To be truthful, having a living, breathing companion on the journey appealed to him, too.
Perhaps with Dobbie for company, the dark dreams that plagued him lately would cease their torment.
A yawn stretched his jaw and glassed over his vision, and for just an instant he could almost swear that two of those stars overhead glowed red, exactly like the eyes in his dream.
He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, and when he looked again, the sky twinkled with only the stars that were supposed to be there.
Rolling to his side, Mathew hugged the sword close, remembering how in his dream it had been the sword that had chased the monster away. A guardian, it was, and such a weapon as this one deserved a fitting name.
Dream Guardian, he would call it, and with it at his side, he could face the world of dreams without fear. Perhaps it would even give him the courage to master the same control over his feelings in the waking world.
With one last glance up at the night sky, he forced himself not to think about who—or what—might be staring up at those same stars this night.
HALL LAY ONhis back, staring up into a perfect night sky. On a cold, crisp evening such as this, the stars always seemed to sparkle much more brightly.
“Sleep,” he commanded, watching his breath curl up into the air over his face as he spoke.
His body ignored the command, his thoughts flittering around like the stars twinkling over his head.
He squeezed his eyes shut, as if by sheer force of will he could transport himself into Nott’s domain. But, try as he might, sleep eluded him.
He mulled over the track he’d taken so far. Cutting cross-country rather than following well-traveled trails should put him ahead of his quarry and all those who followed the boy.
