Duncan might very well kill her. That thought ricocheted over and over within Ella’s mind over the hours following her escape from the cavern. Scaling the cliff hadn’t been easy, not with how slick the misty rain had made it, but as her only option she’d taken it after she’d successfully compelled Ivor to ignore her passing.
Determination now spurred her on and she dashed across the craggy hills leading inland and away from the coastline. Duncan would certainly follow her tracks should she leave any, so she’d taken precious minutes to double back where necessary and confuse any markings she’d made. Now, with the cloak of night finally falling, she fled higher into the mountains and raced across the rockier terrain, this land thankfully very familiar to her. She’d trekked it often with both her grandparents, as well as Ethan and Mama.
Water flowed through trickling streams bordered by glistening boulders. Taking extra care with each step, she traversed the stony mountain trail, the odd loose stone shearing away and clacking down into the corrie below, one that lay littered with sand and stones from others who’d passed along this route.
High above, the moon dipped behind wispy cloud floating across it, allowing only the merest trace of moonlight to shimmer through, just enough for her to follow the path. Marching on in her damp clothes, the cold of the night fully descended and surrounded her, the air so very chilly.
Her chest tightened with each step she took farther away from her mate, until her breath became almost too difficult to draw in. Mated pairs always suffered greatly when separated from each other and she’d forced this separation on them both. Not that she’d had a lot of choice. Never would she allow Duncan to lock her away behind Ardan’s fortified walls. This was her mission, her kin, and her task to see to.
Through the narrow gorge between the hills, she cut then stopped to kneel at the edge of a river and gulped down water. The cold hit her belly hard and she shivered anew. Shaking off the bone-deep chill, she pushed to her feet and tramped through the boggy grasses of the marshland leading to the forest bordering her grandparents’ cottage.
As the night passed and the dawn sun finally breached the horizon, renewed strength surged through her and she hopped over trailing tree roots along the leaf-strewn forest trail. She strode past a massive pine tree, the trunk three times the size of any other then halted and backed up two steps. Slowly, she circled the familiar trunk.
A mark slashed one side. E & E. Memories stirred and a smile lifted her lips. At the age of five and ten, she’d carved hers and Ethan’s initials into this tree, gotten told off good and proper by Grandpa too for having done so, but Ethan had adored the inscription she’d made, his toothy ten-year-old grin making the telling-off all the more worth it.
She traced the letters with one finger and hot tears pricked beyond her eyes. She missed Ethan terribly, as well as the man she’d left behind. Nay, she had no time for crying right now. Getting to Dunscaith and aiding Ethan in halting Gavin’s attacks was imperative. Her brother was honorable, his desire to ensure peace reigned as strong as hers. No more blood could be shed.
Onward, she trekked until she reached a white arrow painted on the surface of a rock where it sat at the fork in the forest pathway. It pointed to the nearest village, not that she would have missed it. Once she’d walked a trail, she never forgot where it led.
Instead of following the arrow, she took the secondary trail and minutes later emerged from the trees at the edge of a meadow dotted with yellow flowers and lavender bushes. The rising sun washed its golden rays over the thatched rooftop of her grandparents’ cottage and such relief filled her. She’d made it this far, and she’d get the rest of the way with her grandparents’ aid. They’d never turn her away.
“Grandma, Grandpa!” She raced across the meadow then stopped as two dogs with floppy ears barked from outside the woodshed and tore toward her. The big brutes skidded in beside her, their tongues lolling and eagerness for a pat shining bright in their eyes. She lowered down to her knees and wrapped her arms around their furry necks. “I’m so happy to see you two.”
“Ella?” From under the hemp rope strung with clothes between two elm trees, Grandma stood with a cane basket propped against her hip. “Oh my, ’tis you, my dear.”
“Aye, ’tis me, Grandma.” There was no halting her tears now. They streamed free as she ran and catapulted into Grandma’s open arms, the dogs whining at her feet. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“’Tis only been a few weeks, but aye, I’ve missed you too.” Grandma smoothed one hand down the long length of her bedraggled braid. “Look at you, all cold and damp. Clearly you’ve tramped through the hills to reach us rather than sailed into the harbor at Kinloch. Ewen,” she shouted over her shoulder toward the front door of the cottage. “Come see who’s here.”