Page 96 of Highlander’s Burning Touch

Damn. This was the last thing she wanted. Finally gathering herself together, Deva nodded and said, “Nae fash, twas just a dream, that’s all…” But inside, her heart was pounding hard.

It wasn’t alright at all. Maybe her dreams didn’t mean anything, but the pressure she felt inside her chest was telling her something wasn’t right.

When Niven had said there was danger for them, he was not wrong. And now he had just walked back into the lair of the wildcat!

She glanced over at Allyth, who had thankfully gotten back into bed. Then, Deva saw her yawning and turn back over in the narrow bed.

Waiting for her to settle, Deva silently froze. It was only when she was sure that Allyth’s breathing had lengthened and transformed into a snore did she dare to creep out of bed.

Her heart beating through the roof, Deva tried to get her emotions into some sort of order. It was stupid, she told herself. It had been nothing more than a dream, but its impact was deep. Still shaking slightly, Deva planted her feet on the floor. The boards felt cold beneath her as she groped about for her chopines.

Then, gingerly, she steered herself across the bedroom, cursing at every gap and creak on the way. Quickly, she laced her robe.

With a last glance to Allyth, Deva gathered herself and calmly walked down the narrow beam of light into the corridor before disappearing softly behind the closing door.

It was time to find him.

* * *

“Get down!”

Niven pulled his brother’s head down as they pressed against the edge of the tunnel. Somewhere in the distance, footsteps sounded. It wasn’t the MacLeans, but the sound made them both freeze.

“Who is it?” Fingal called. It was dark, and with only one candle, it was becoming harder to see.

Then, Fingal nearly collapsed into Niven’s arms. Caught off guard, he staggered to the tunnel wall.

“Fingal?” Niven cried.

“I, I didnae see ye there,” muttered Fingal, pulling himself upright.

Niven watched him, concerned. “Didn’t or couldnae?” he asked softly.

He brought the candle closer to his face, illuminating it with shades of orange.

There, Niven gave a gasp.

His brother’s eye was pouring with blood.

“Fingal,” he cried. Inside, Niven was berating himself. How could he have not seen this before? “Fingal, what happened? I didnae ken ye were more hurt…”

Fingal just shrugged.

“It’s nothing,” he said, “Just a wee nick…”

Niven was no physician, but he could see that it was way more than that. All the same, there wasn’t much they could do for now except for him to help Fingal reach safety.

But the footsteps were advancing.

“Och, dinnae fash about me,” said Fingal, “I’m only slowing ye down, ye go ahead, get help…”

He beseeched Niven with his eyes. Niven almost choked.

“What? No way,” he said, “I’m nae leaving ye…”

He bundled Fingal along the corridor as fast as he could go. Propelling his brother forwards, blind fury steered him on. Just as they were about to make their breakaway, a voice called out in the distance.

“Niven? Fingal? Is it ye?”