Shadow Highlander

FIVE

Galen stood at the pillars looking over the designs and markings left by the ancient Celts, the morning sun giving off just enough light to bathe everything in a golden glow.

“You could no’ sleep either, I take it,” Logan said as he came to stand beside him.

Galen shook his head. “These Druids trust their magic, but I doona trust Deirdre. She’s going to come here, and it could be any day. I kept watch most of the night.”

“Did you see anything?”

“Nothing. It’s quiet.”

Logan grunted and folded his arms across his chest. He jerked his chin to the stone columns. “Did you learn anything else from the markings?”

“I did.” Galen glanced around them to make sure there weren’t any Druids near enough to hear them. “The stones, along with the area used by the Druids, are protected by Druid magic, a magic used to hide something of significance.”

“The artifact.”

Galen nodded. “That is my reckoning. Where it’s at is another matter.”

Logan moved nearer to one of the pillars and ran his hand over more markings. “It says here the object must stay in the confines of the stones lest it be found by Deirdre.”

“Does it say how Deirdre would discover it?”

“Nay. Wait.” Logan moved around the pillar and squatted. “It says the object is sacred and must be kept safe from everyone but the Druids.”

Galen blew out a perturbed breath. “How do we convince these Druids we are the only ones who can keep the artifact secure?”

“I doona know that we can.” Logan straightened and continued his perusal of the stones. “Reaghan didna know how to read the Celtic markings.”

“I’m no’ so sure. She never answered me, and there was something in her eyes. I think she can read it. We also have to consider that at least the elders can.”

Logan rubbed the back of his neck and yawned. “Why can Reaghan read it and others cannot?”

“I have no answer.”

“There are four men in this village. Three are halfway in the grave, and the other is barely old enough to pick up a sword. They are prime candidates for an attack by wyrran.”

“You are no’ telling me anything I have no’ already considered. I doona know how long they will welcome us, but I doubt it will be for very much longer. While we’re here, we need to gain as much of their trust as we can.”

Logan’s smile was wide as he faced the village. “I have an idea.”

“What might that be?” He knew that smile of Logan’s. It was full of mischief and meant Logan had a plan that required the use of his well-known charm.

“You doona trust me?”

It was said with such false innocence that Galen rolled his eyes. “I think it would be better if I knew this idea beforehand.”

“The women are starved for male attention. I plan to spend a wee bit of time with them. Mayhap make them laugh and put them at ease so they will give me the information we need.”

“More like starved for children. Need I remind you it is possible for us to get a woman with child? Look at Quinn and Marcail.”

“Aye, I know,” Logan said. “I’ve no desire to have one of the women attached to me. I might flirt, but I’m staying out of their beds.”

At that moment Galen caught sight of auburn curls and creamy skin, eyes of silver mist and curves that made his mouth water.

“I see someone has caught your attention,” Logan said. “Not that I blame you. She’s verra pretty.”

“Don’t you find it more than odd that she doesna realize her magic is strong?”

“Maybe it was no’ hers we felt.” Logan shrugged. “Maybe it was the magic of the ancient Druids.”

Galen shook his head. “Nay. It was hers. I feel the magic of the ancients. It is sturdy, but old. Reaghan’s feels different. Stronger. Steadier. Brighter.”

“Hmm,” Logan said. “Tell me, how long has it been since you’ve allowed yourself a woman?”

Galen pulled his gaze away from Reaghan and looked at Logan. “How is that any of your business?”

“In all the years I have known you, in all the times we have met up, I’ve never seen you with a woman.”

“It’s no’ for lack of wanting. I have my reasons.”

“I gather those reasons have to do with your power.”

Galen knew Logan wouldn’t leave the subject alone until he was satisfied with the answers, though Galen was loath to give those answers. “I have to touch someone to see into their minds.”

“Aye. I ken.”

“What you doona know is that unlike most of the Warriors who must allow their god loose to be able to use their power, mine is constant.”

Logan’s hazel eyes narrowed in a frown. “So that is why you doona willingly touch anyone.”

“That is why.”

“I’m sorry, Galen. I had no idea.”

Galen shrugged away his words. He didn’t want anyone pitying him. He had come to terms with his life as best he could. He was destined to face it alone, even though it grew more and more difficult with every Warrior who found a woman to love.

He knew he was destined to watch others find love and happiness, to hold their lover’s hand, to be able to comfort them without releasing their power. That’s when it ate at him the most.

How he envied them. He didn’t begrudge their contentment, but he longed to have a woman of his own.

“Maybe there is a way around it,” Logan offered.

“I’ve tried, Logan. For two hundred and fifty years I’ve sought anything and everything to stop it. Do you think I like reaching for a lover, even just to kiss her, and seeing into her mind? Do you think I like the grief, the misery, the resentment, or the disdain I see? Do you think I enjoy knowing their deepest fears or their greatest regrets?”

Logan’s answer was a whispered, “Nay.”

Galen turned away from his friend. He shouldn’t have let his emotions get away from him. It wasn’t Logan’s fault. He had just been trying to help, but help wasn’t something Galen would ever receive.

“Galen—”

He held up a hand to stop Logan. “I’m the one who should apologize. Sometimes it gets to be too much.”

Like when he saw a woman who stirred his blood and made him want to take her into his arms and kiss her. To touch her body and learn her curves. To reach for an auburn curl and wrap it around his finger.

He walked away before Logan could say more. He needed time alone, time to study the village more. And get his discontent under control.

*

Reaghan knew something was wrong by the way Galen held his body, rigid and angry. The regret on Logan’s face was enough to reveal something personal had transpired.

Her curiosity always got the better of her, and she couldn’t help but wonder what had gotten Galen so upset. He seemed the type who was always composed, always in control. The type of man who wouldn’t let his anger get the better of him.

She had spent the majority of the night dreaming of Galen. His cobalt eyes, his long, dark blond hair, and his beautifully muscled body.

It had never occurred to Reaghan that a man could look so good, be so tempting. She had seen her share of men — and women — who traveled by the village on the way to MacIntosh Castle. But none of them could compare to Galen’s rugged perfection.

She decided to follow Galen instead of doing her morning chores. Reaghan had no sooner taken a step than Mairi blocked her path.

“Off somewhere?”

Reaghan wasn’t fooled. The elder knew exactly what she was about, but if Mairi wouldn’t come out and ask then she wouldn’t give the elder the answer she sought. “I thought I would go for a walk.”

“I’ve seen you watching him.”

“Him who?”

Mairi’s brown eyes narrowed, disappointment in every line of her face. “Don’t play coy with me, Reaghan. You know I speak of Galen.”

Reaghan raised her brows in question. “What about him? He’s a man, something we haven’t had in our village in quite some time. I would think you would want every woman of childbearing age to try and catch his eye.”

“It is true I would like to see more children in our village, but not at your expense.”

Reaghan was taken aback by the elder’s words. “Me? What do I have to do with anything?”

Mairi sighed loudly and took a step closer, shrinking the space between them. “I’m not your mother, but I only want the best for you, as any mother would for her child. That is all.”

“Of course,” Reaghan said and turned toward her cottage. The truth was there in Mairi’s eyes, but it wasn’t the entire truth. “I have herbs to tend to.”

Reaghan shut the door behind her once she was inside her home and leaned back against it. The ache in her chest was so profound, so fierce, she couldn’t catch her breath. What was Mairi keeping from her?

They had always been so close, sharing everything. Or at least Reaghan had assumed they shared everything. How could she have been so wrong?

With a small cry she buried her face in her hands and let the tears come. For long moments her body was racked by sobs, her soul withering more with each tear.

Eventually Reaghan wiped away her tears with the back of her arm and sniffed. She tried to recall anything, any small piece of information or fragment of a memory from the time before she awoke from the fever, but it was as if a wall had been erected in her mind, a wall she couldn’t penetrate, knock down, or climb over.

She should have left as she had intended that morning. She should have kept to her original plan. Instead, she had stayed because of deep blue eyes and a sensual smile that made her stomach flip each time she thought about it.

Reaghan took a deep, quivering breath. It would do her no good to let Mairi know she was upset. Mairi would only ask questions, and Reaghan didn’t want to lie to her, but neither could she tell her the truth. So as soon as she could, Reaghan was leaving.

She had to. Her dreams the night before had been filled with Galen, but also of castles, people, and places that fascinated her. In her dreams she knew these people, intimately knew the castle surrounded by a moat.

Once she awoke, the details of the people and places faded, but they remained in her mind. It only spurred her to find where all this was leading her. She knew in the depths of her soul that the places she dreamed about were real.

Mairi and the other elders knew more about her past, but they wouldn’t tell her. Reaghan knew they thought they were doing that for her own good, and maybe they were. But she needed answers. Answers to the weird images she saw in her dreams, the faces she recognized, and places she saw.

She needed answers to why she was in Loch Awe instead of Foinaven Mountain.

Reaghan sniffed again and started for the table when the pain slammed into her. She doubled over, her head hammering. Nausea rolled viciously in her stomach. She shut her eyes when the room began to spin.

Her knees trembled, and she knew if she didn’t lie down soon, she would fall. Reaghan reached out her arm and tried to feel for the table. Her body tipped forward, but it was empty air, not the edge of the table, her fingers grasped.

Reaghan let out a strangled cry as she landed hard on the floor. Her head, already throbbing, felt as if it were cracking open from the intense and constant pain.

She curled onto her side and knew she had to stay still to quiet her stomach and ease her headache. The pain was blinding. The slightest sound was amplified until her ears rang and it echoed inside her head a hundred times over.

The sunlight that fell through the open shutters and onto her face made her feel as if her eyes were being burned. She used her arm to cover her eyes, but the damage had already been done.

This headache was the worst yet, and she feared they would steadily increase until it killed her.