The Magic of Highland Dragons (3 page)

He led her along a faint trail which wound through a grove of huge moss covered oak trees. They were ancient, misshapen and gnarled, flowing beautifully up from the earth like twisted rivers to the sky. In their midst, in a small clearing, was a little cottage. It was whitewashed with a lovely roof of thatch, and the thatch was made of heather, from what she could tell. Faith barely had time to marvel at it before she was urged inside through the open door with a gentle hand at her back. The interior was dim, and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust from the bright daylight outside. The hearth took up most of one end of the one room, and it was otherwise empty except for a table and a cot. It certainly didn’t look like anyone was actually living in it. On the cot was a small pile of clothing, which the man called Dirc was now rummaging through while humming a tune under his breath.

She cleared her throat, which was suddenly tight. “Is this your home?” Should she have even have entered the cottage with a man who was a complete stranger to her? Probably not, but it was too late now. And she didn’t get the feeling that he meant her any harm. Surely she would sense that on some level and feel uneasy if he had any bad intentions.

He didn’t answer her, but turned around, holding up a dress. “This one should do. Try it on, I think it will be a good fit.”

She stared at him for a second, confused. “You want me to change my clothes?”

“Aye lass, ye canna verra well go around dressed like that, now can ye?” He gestured to her clothing before handing her the dress, wrinkling his nose a little in obvious distaste at her plain white blouse and denim skirt. “What century have ye come from, anyway?”

He knew that she had…apparently… just come from somewhere else in time. Something almost like relief washed over her. She might not understand what was happening here, but at least someone else did. That was something, and for right now she clung to it. “The… the twenty-first.”

Dirc let out a low whistle. “Aye, I ken ye would have come far.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Farther than I would have guessed, even.” He held up a finger, pointing it at her as if giving a lecture. “A good example to show one how verra random it all can be. Just when ye think things are all in an order of sorts, it turns out they never were at all.” He shook himself, turning his attention back to the task at hand. “Well now, put that clothing on, and I’ll be waiting outside for ye.”

Faith had just turned around when the door opened again. Dirc handed her a thin leather cord. “For the ring. Tie it around yer neck for safekeeping. Make the knot tight, mind! Keep it with ye at all times and dinna lose it.”

In her current state of shock and disbelief, Faith had nearly forgotten all about the ring. Her hand slipped into her pocket, and her fingers slowly wrapped around it.

“It isn’t an ordinary ring”, she said carefully. “Who does it belong to? Can it take me back home?”

“It will protect ye, lass”, he said, not answering any of her questions.

“Is this Scotland?” she blurted.

“Aye, of course.” He backed out of the room with a smile.

The door closed, and she was alone again. She took the ring out of her pocket and studied it for a moment. The blood-red stone almost seemed to glow even in the dim light of the room, and the dragons’ eyes seemed to flicker. She shivered a little. What was this ring? What did it mean? And if… Dirc… had been expecting her, did that mean the ring had been planted in that box? Was she meant to find it? With a resigned sigh she strung it onto the cord and tied it carefully around her neck, making a double, then a triple knot. She didn’t want to lose it either, especially if it turned out to be her only way back home. The cool metal fell between her breasts, quickly warming against her skin. Glancing behind at the closed door, half afraid Dirc would come back in again, she quickly stripped off her skirt and blouse, considered for a moment, and decided to take off her bra and panties too. Women didn’t where them here, and she wasn’t sure what would happen should her purple satin underwear be inadvertently seen by someone. She couldn’t imagine that it would turn out well.

She pulled the dress over her head, then considered for a moment how the rest went. When she was fairly sure she had figured it out she pulled the row of laces tight around her waist, tying them closed just above her breasts. She pulled on a pair of stockings, and slipped on shoes that were sewn from buttery-soft leather. The fabric of the clothing felt strange against her skin, but it was soft, softer than she would have imagined clothes of this time to be. The cloth was very finely woven, she realized, and dyed a light blue. She guessed it was probably of better quality than most people would have. Who was this man Dirc? And how in the world did he know to expect her? The only thing she was sure of at the moment was that she was very, very far from home, and something was going on that was way, way over her head.

By now her mind had shifted into what she liked to think of as ‘survival mode’, where fear and panic were blocked out, saved for later while she just made it through the day, her thoughts perforce not going much beyond the moment. It was very familiar to her; she had been in ‘survival mode’ for quite some time after her mother had died. When she had suddenly been completely and utterly alone in the world.

There was a brief knock on the door, and Dirc entered before she could even answer. He stepped into the room, looking her over with a considering eye. He said nothing, but with a thoughtful twist of his lips he fetched a comb from the table and began to use it on her long blond hair. Faith was startled that he would be so familiar with her when they had only just met, but held still for his ministrations anyway. After all, she knew very little of the customs here. Her hair was more than likely a complete mess, but that was not really her biggest problem right now.

“Ye have lovely hair lass.
And it’s the color he prefers, I happen to ken
”, he said under his breath.

“What did you say? The color
who
prefers?”

He chuckled, pulling two strands of hair back from either side of her head and giving them each a little twist before tying them at the back with a piece of ribbon he had pulled out of his pocket. “Ah, that’s better. And patience. Ye’ll find out soon enough.” He stepped back, gazing at her, looking deep, and absently rubbing his chin. “Ye’ll ken all, in time. No worries. Ye have an affinity for the mysteries of our world, I think. A strong and clever mind too. Most lasses would be cowering on the ground by now, having arrived as ye did with nay warning.” He paused for a moment, a strange, wary look crossing his face. “Ye didna have any warning, did ye?” When she shook her head, he went on. “Aye, ye’re verra strong and a beauty too, as a boon. Ye’ll do verra well. I’m quite pleased. The fates are no’ always so generous, ye ken.”

“But…”

He took her by the hand and led her out of the cottage before she could ask any more of the questions tumbling around in her mind. It was just as well; she probably wasn’t ready to know the answers. She hadn’t even gotten past waking up in Scotland yet.

Faith followed Dirc, stumbling after him. Everything felt oddly surreal; the strange clothing flowing around her legs as she walked, even the angle of the sun in the sky and the quality of the light. All just a little different. A little bit unfamiliar. She looked down at her feet, wrapped in delicate leather shoes. Through their thin bottoms she could feel every stone, every root that she stepped on, each a stark reminder that she walked on solid ground, and not within a dream.

She was in Scotland. And no one at home would even know she was gone. They wouldn’t know until Monday morning, when she didn’t show up for work. Brian would wonder where she was, wouldn’t he? Would he worry? Would he look for her? Probably not. More likely he would think she quit, gotten a better job. Disappeared without bothering with goodbyes, as so many people did. She hadn’t even lived in D.C. long enough to have any close friends there who might call the police when she didn’t answer her phone or her door. Or… perhaps she would awaken in a psych ward somewhere, having suffered a massive delusion that she had been transported to
Scotland
, sometime in the past. But this was awfully real to be a delusion.
It’s the ring
. She may very well be crazy, but it
was
the ring that brought her here. Whether
here
was heaven or hell or somewhere in between remained to be seen. It seemed to her things could go either way from here on out.

Dirc had soon led her to another cottage that to her looked nearly identical to the first. Only this one was closer to the village; she could see a few of the other houses just through the trees. She looked a second time. All of the other cottages seemed to be on cleared land, and only this one was set back into the woods, almost as if its owner had reason to hide. Another sudden twinge of panic shot through her, tightening her chest and making her slightly dizzy. She fought it back.
Nothing you can do, Faith. Accept it. There’s nothing you can do right now. An adventure. What do you have to lose? Didn’t you always have a feeling there was more? Well, this is definitely the more you had that feeling about.

Dirc spoke, startling her. “
This
, lass, is my home.” He gestured toward the cottage. “It’s nay castle, but ye’re certainly welcome here. Come in.”

“Then whose home were we at before?”

He ignored her question yet again, which was beginning to annoy her a bit. She walked through the door he held open for her, again wondering vaguely if it was a good idea to be so trusting of a stranger, but then, she had little choice. She went into the cottage, and immediately the air felt different. She couldn’t say exactly what was different about it, only that it was. There was a very subtle vibration in the air, almost like the charge of static electricity. The next thing she noticed was that one whole wall was lined with shelves, and the shelves held what must have been hundreds of clay jars and small cloth bags, tied at the top with string. They all had labels, and when she took a step closer to look, she discovered they were all in a language she couldn’t read; letters interspersed with strange symbols. There were also several small tables, some of them stacked with wooden bowls and spoons, and other implements she couldn’t identify and had never even seen before. Another wall held a shelf with a neat row of books, all bound in glossy leather.
There were two doors in the room, both closed, with a hearth in between. She assumed that at least one must open to a bedroom.

She turned to Dirc, who stood silently watching her take everything in, his mouth cocked in a self-satisfied looking smile.

“What is all of this? What do you use all these things for?” She gestured to the shelves.

He looked at his store of jars and bags with more than a little pride. “Ah, I’m somewhat of a healer for my clan. And a bit of a spell-caster too. Such things… require many different elements.” He motioned to a chair before the fire. “Come, sit down, rest.”

She took a step toward the chair he offered, and stopped abruptly, her eyes narrowing in uncertainty. Had there been a fire in the hearth a moment ago? She didn’t remember there being a fire… but maybe she had just been too busy looking at everything else. And she had been through rather a lot since yesterday, it was no wonder if she was a little out of it. She sat down, looking into the flames for a moment, trying again to gather her wildly fragmented thoughts and make sense of it all.

“I have to go out for a short while, lass”, Dirc was saying. She turned her head to look at him, still feeling a bit dazed. “Will ye be alright alone here? I willna be but an hour.”

Faith turned back to the fire. “I’ll be fine. I… I have a lot to think about.”
Spell-caster, had he said? Would that be what they called a doctor in this time? Must be, though he had also called himself a healer...

He walked over to the fire, and she noticed now a pot hanging to one side. He picked up a stick that was leaning against the hearth and stirred whatever was in there. “If ye could keep an eye on the porridge while it warms, we’ll have some dinner when I return.”

Faith nodded mutely, and gave a weak smile.

Dirc left the lass in the cottage and made quickly for the castle gates, confident she’d wait there for him. She looked far too tired and unsure of things to run at the moment. Poor dear, she must be nearly in shock from it all. But just to be sure, he’d warded the door and the windows. She wouldn’t be able to get away even if she were so inclined. He didn’t want to waste any more time. He had already been waiting far too long for this day to come. The role he had taken upon himself had been weighing on him for years; he would be glad enough to finally be done with it, and turn back to more mundane pursuits.

***

Bren sank down into his chair and looked at the meal laid out before him. Roast venison. Again. He sighed, ending with a little growl. Was there nothing else to eat around here? He looked up as Dirc appeared and slid into the seat next to him.

“Good evening my laird”, Dirc said. He had a mischievous glint in his eye this evening, Bren thought. More so even than usual.

He shot him an accusing look. “What are ye up to now, old man?” The sorcerer was seldom idle, in thoughts or actions. And it had already been some time since his last debacle. He was due for another, soon.