Highland Defiance

chapter Three



“I don’t want to be here anymore,” she repeated, groggy.

“Well, neither do I,” someone said, his voice strong.

She struggled for recognition. It wasn’t Adlin. She blinked several times. Jim? Instead of a small stone chamber the steel mill rose behind him. Panicked, Mildred tried to move.

“It’s okay.” Jim had his hands on her shoulders. “You passed out for a moment is all. Take a minute. Breathe.”

As her vision cleared she realized that Iosbail and Adlin were gone. In their place, her sister and brother, David and Jim. How was this possible? Air came fast and furious. She started to breathe too fast. Her hands and feet went numb.

Frustrated, Jim lifted her to a sitting position. His intent eyes came close and he asked, “You able to pull yourself through?”

She wanted to respond, she really did.

“Fine.”A light slap to her cheek.

“How dare you!”

“That’s right,” Jim said.

“You’ve got balls,” she rasped.

“Focus, Mildred. You with us or not? I’ll smack you again unless you respond. Harder next time.”

Focusing was hard. But she knew that voice. It wasn’t Adlin. It was Jim. “Off,” she whispered, trying to focus. She put her hand over her mouth, shook her head and leaned back against whatever held her up.

“Enough!”

That was Irene’s voice and she was mad… and concerned.

“Everyone get to work. I’ve got her.”

Knowing her sister was nearby felt soothing. Exhausted and weak, she leaned against Irene. How was she here? How were they all here? But she was so tired it didn’t matter.

“I’ll have someone clock you in as sick,” Irene whispered. “It’ll cost a day’s wage but you’re not fit.”

Even as she was shoved back into their car, Mildred felt guilt. To lose a day’s wage was too much right now. As she flopped across the back seat she tried to deny it but her limbs were done for, never mind her mouth.

The car lurched forward.

And Mildred passed out.

“Mildred.”

“Tell me the truth, Adlin.”

“Mildred.”

“I’m scared. Tell me the truth.”

“Mildred, it’s me, Jonathan.”

With a sharp woosh, she released pent up air from her lungs and opened her eyes. Not to a highland chamber nearly a thousand years old but to the attic of her bedroom.

“Adlin!” she cried and sat upright.

“It’s me, Jonathan, your brother.”

She tried to focus. Where was Adlin? He’d been right there. But he was gone. Overwhelmed, she slowly leaned back.

“Mildred, can you hear me?”

That was Irene’s voice. Of course she could hear her.

I need to lift my hand. I need to be coherent. But the thought didn’t seem to connect with the brain. How could she be there then here?

Because you can be, lass.

“Adlin?” she cried and shot up.

“No,” her siblings said and pushed her down.

Though Mildred moved her lips, nothing came from her mouth. Everything seemed blank and desolate. Everything seemed without purpose. The blinds were drawn. Candles were lit.

“Keep her down.”

Keep me down? Mildred struggled. She knew that voice. Mama?

“Now,” the voice whispered.

Then there was nothing.

“Keep her down!”

Mildred screamed and flailed, unable to do anything else. Anger burned and bubbled. She wanted death for all…needed it. Faces became unfamiliar. Her inner voice became unfamiliar.

“Shhh.”

Her mother’s whisper was nearby. Soft and reassuring, her Mama had never left her. Though it felt a million pounds rested on her arms, she lifted her hand.

A strong hand grasped hers. Startled, Mildred tried to pull back.

“It’s me sis. Relax.”

She shivered. “Jonathan?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” His face and body came close to hers. “Are you okay?”

“No.” Mildred held onto him. “I’m not.”

“You will be. Promise,” he whispered.

Sobs raked her and she held on tight. How could she have gone from one reality to the next so easily? Impossible. But good. This is what she wanted, right? Then why did she feel so empty? “I passed out…dreamed.”

“Of course you did.”

“Mama?”

“Right here, darling.”

As reality became more and more acute, Mildred realized that she lay in her bed with her mother, Irene and Jonathan nearby. Her mother leaned in close and asked, “What is my name, Mildred?”

Mildred closed her eyes. They were trying to make sure she had her wits about her. Good enough. She opened her eyes and replied in a surprising even voice, “Your name is Sarah. I’m okay now. Just confused.”

Eyes wide and concerned, her family stared down. Her mother spoke. “Tell us what you’re confused about, Mildred.”

“Water. Please.” The last thing she wanted to tell them was what she’d been through. Granted, she’d wanted to scream it originally. No more. Now she wanted to keep it secret. After all, it was insanity. Perhaps she’d dreamt it all? So she repeated, “Water.”

“Of course.” Irene handed her a cup.

She took long, deep gulps and glanced down to see she no longer wore a dress but her work clothes.

“Finish up. We need to talk.”

One look at her mother’s face told Mildred that there would be no secrets after all. How could there be when this all clearly had to do with her family’s unusual history. Mildred nodded, handed the cup to Irene and looked at her mother. “The lineage, witchcraft, this is all part of it, isn’t it?”

“Of course,” Sarah said, her eyes easily going from soft to a tempered inquisitive. “What happened to you? Where have you been?”

“Nowhere,” she said automatically. All the while she knew that her mother knew. Did Irene and Jonathan? One look at their faces told her no.

“She’s fine,” Sarah said. “Go downstairs. Give us a few minutes.”

Jonathan and Irene looked unsure but one quick nod sent them on their way. Mildred handed the cup back to her mother and worked at familiarizing herself with… herself. Her body felt normal again. As if everything she’d felt hadn’t happened. As if she hadn’t traveled through time. In fact, had she? No. Impossible. Somehow she’d dreamt it all. Everything had been a dream. It had to have been.

“Do you remember everything I taught you?”

Mildred looked at her mother. “About what?”

“About being gifted.”

With a sniff, she responded, “Yes. That I am the least gifted. There wasn’t much to teach.”

Sarah’s hand slid into hers. “That doesn’t make you the least wanted.”

“Wanted by what?” she shot without meaning to. Lord though, was she angry. Her whole life her parents had been honest about the fact that their children were witches, she of course being the least powerful. The attic that Irene and she called their bedroom had always held the most power. How was it that she—the least powerful—had not only traveled back but to a place so far from this attic?

Highly unlikely.

“You overthink,” Sarah said softly.

“No.” She shook her head. “You knew about Scotland all along, especially the MacLomains.” Mildred stood, though a bit shaky she walked to the far side of the room and back before she said, “I thought it ended with you and Da. I don’t understand.”

Her Mom clenched and unclenched her fists. “No. It’d only just begun.”

“What?” She whispered. “How is that possible?”

As she sunk down onto the bed her mother’s expression grew distant. “Because your Da wasn’t the Chieftain.”

Mildred narrowed her eyes. “No, Adlin is!”

“Yes,” her mother whispered absently. “Adlin.”

Her heart skipped a few beats. “So you know Adlin?”

“Yes, I do.”

Mildred clasped her mother’s hands. “He’s real, isn’t he? Adlin is real? I didn’t dream him up?”

Her mother shook her head and closed her eyes. “You couldn’t dream up Adlin if you tried. Just I never thought he… you.”

“Mama.” She wrapped an arm around Sarah’s shoulders and oddly enough found strength in the odd exchange. “Adlin’s okay. He’s not bad. I’m sure of it. But I don’t understand… was he an old man when you met him?”

“Oh no, dear, he was a young man. Very handsome.”

“But how can that be… he’s still a young man in 1050. Da would have been...”

Mildred trailed off. Her Da would’ve been in his early fifties when she traveled back seeing how when he’d met her mama he was from 1025 Scotland having been born in 998. Funny, the last thing she’d been worried about was finding him.

Sarah shrugged and murmured, “Perhaps the magic.”

Pretty amazing magic! But that was the least of her concerns right now. As much as she feared all of this, Mildred couldn’t help but remember the man her mother seemed so afraid of, nor could she forget how drawn she was to him. “Adlin won’t hurt me, Mama.”

“Not yet.” Her mother’s emotions seemed to flip in an instant and her steady, dry eyes looked at Mildred. “What did he say? Why did he pull you back?”

Suddenly a young, defensive daughter again, Mildred shrugged loosely. “Nothing much. He just said he was supposed to help me get somewhere.”

“Somewhere? That’s vague.”

“To my betrothed,” she said haphazardly. “That’s it.”

“Your betrothed?” Sarah stood and started pacing, deep in thought before she turned to Mildred. “He wanted to lead you to your betrothed?” The pacing continued. “That’s not how it works with Adlin. He’s there when you’ve already come in contact with your one true love. He doesn’t ever ‘lead’ a person to their love.”

The room grew orange with mid-afternoon rays of sun, catching the hem of her mother’s skirts as she continued to pace. Her long, dark hair with wisps of gray shone in the odd lighting. She suddenly stopped pacing and wrung her hands. “There is something different about all of this. You need to tell me everything.”

No. She didn’t want to. Exhausted, she said, “I’m tired. I need sleep.”

Though she had many questions she didn’t want to ask them now. Time alone to process her thoughts would be great. How well did her mother actually know Adlin, the man she’d dreamt about for years? Outside of the obvious time-travel aspect, why was the topic so dire?

Sarah stopped in front of her, arms crossed over her chest. “You need to understand that this is not over. You will be going back.” She shook her head slowly and said, “If Adlin is involved, you will be going back.”

When Mildred saw her mother’s eyes water she patted the bed beside her. “Sit, Mama. Tell me about how you and Da met. It might help.”

It wasn’t that Sarah was weak, just too emotional sometimes. Perhaps it was half the reason Mildred felt the need to show herself as strong. But the truth of the matter was… how else should a woman behave when their father wasn’t around anymore but lost somewhere in time. Well, not exactly lost, her Da was somewhere in medieval Scotland and without doubt, with his MacLomain Clan.

“Oh, you’ve heard this story hundreds of times,” Sarah said, but her cheeks warmed.

“Well, in light of things, one more time couldn’t hurt.”

“I don’t suppose it could.”

So she retold the story with the unmistakable fondness of a woman in love. Her mother had traveled back to medieval Scotland when young. In her case, the MacLomain she met was away at battle when she arrived. And her arrival, naturally, had been accepted based on Adlin’s explanation that she was a member of one of their numerous clan septs. It’d all been quite romantic and as far as Mildred could tell, far simpler a story than the one in which she currently found herself.

What was Adlin up to?

Hours later she lie in her bed alone, staring up at the ceiling with that very question still lodged firmly in her mind. But another question kept niggling at her subconscious. Was the attraction between her and Adlin all in her imagination? It must have been.

After all, he couldn’t have pulled her back for him… could he have? A strange shiver of awareness rippled through her and she rolled on her side.

Would she really travel back again? The thought both petrified and thrilled her. Sighing in frustration, she rolled onto her other side and stared out the window. The day was a little too bright and cheery for her current mood, which frustrated her even more. Shouldn’t she be grateful she was safe at home?

Tap. Tap. Pebbles bounced off the window. Mildred frowned and looked outside. Jim and David waved. With a chuckle, she opened the window and yelled down. “You could have knocked on the front door.”

“What fun is there in that?” Jim yelled back.

“How are you feeling?” David asked.

Mildred shrugged but already felt better knowing her friends had come so soon. “I could use some fresh air.”

“Then come on. We’ll go for a walk.” This from Jim.

She grinned, nodded and shut the window. Without doubt, her mother would try to stop her but not if she didn’t know. Though she crept quietly down the stairs, Irene cut her off at the bottom.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I need air,” she whispered. When hesitation crossed Irene’s face, Mildred said, “Please. You know I do better outdoors.”

Irene eyed her for several long moments before she reluctantly nodded, headed into the kitchen and said, “Now Mama, what can I do to help?”

Bless her sister; she was keeping their mother distracted. Super stealthy, she snuck down the hallway and exited through the backdoor. As expected, her friends were waiting. David looked concerned, Jim, exasperated. But she understood Jim’s expression. He always turned impatient when he couldn’t immediately fix something. Right now, in his estimation, she needed fixing.

“I’m fine,” Mildred declared and started walking toward the forest. “So you both can stop worrying.”

“I wasn’t worried in the least,” Jim declared walking on one side.

“Well, I was,” David said, falling in on the other side.

“Either way,” Mildred said. “I’m feeling much better. Thanks for coming by. I was getting bored.”

Jim grinned. “Of course you were.” He glanced over his shoulder at the house. “Who wants to be cooped up in the house during the day?”

“Speaking of day…why aren’t you two at work?”

“We were. Left a little early is all,” Jim said.

“Tsk. Tsk. Good way to lose your jobs.”

Jim shrugged. “We can always find another.”

She rolled her eyes. Yes, Jim could but David, he was so responsible. Leaving work early must’ve been taxing on him. “Well thanks. But I’m fine, really.”

Neither responded but she sensed their concern. Mildred picked up her pace. “Let’s go to Mystery Hill.”

“Old man Pattee’s cave? Why?” Jim asked.

“Why not?”

“Because we’ve been there a million times.”

Mildred shrugged. But the gesture was more forced than she was willing to admit. Yes they’d gone there a lot as kids but they hadn’t been in several years. For some reason, the strange Stonehenge was a draw for her right now. Almost as if she needed to go there. Funny because the draw hadn’t been there until she’d exited the house.

“So what exactly happened to you today?” Jim asked as they navigated the sticks and stones of New England woodland.

“Must’ve had a touch of something,” Mildred said absently. “Whatever it was, I shook it.”

“Did you really? That fast?” David said.

“That fast.”

“She always did bounce back well,” Jim said, a wide smile breaking over his face. “Half her charm.”

“Her charm?” David frowned.

“Sure.”

“You always did see things the wrong way.”

“Now what do you mean by that?”

Mildred tuned out their chatter and slowed when the Stonehenge came into site. Was it her imagination or did the air suddenly feel cooler? Did all the sounds natural to a forest seem to quiet? Save her two arguing friends of course. But then, even they suddenly did. Perhaps they sensed it too?

Drawn, she continued to walk until she saw the first of the odd stone buildings. Though this place had been officially discovered in 1907 it’d clearly been around for tens of thousands of years. As kids they loved to play in the old ruins and pretend they’d been the ancient people who’d called this their home.

“I can’t imagine why you’d want to come here right now, Mildred,” Jim said.

Neither can I. But she did. “Memories, I suppose,” she whispered.

“Of our time here?” David asked.

No. Yes. Sort of. “I guess. A little.”

Somehow it was that but not at all. With a thick swallow she whispered, “Why did I never see it like this before?”

“Like what?” Jim gazed around. “Looks the same as it always did.”

“No.” She shook her head and continued walking. “Something’s different.”

As if her friends understood she needed some silence they said nothing as she headed through their old stomping grounds to a particular spear shaped stone that aligned with the sun during summer solstice.

“What’s the date today?” she asked.

“Your Birthday, silly. June twentieth,” David said.

Mildred ran her hand over the rock and murmured, “Summer solstice.”

“What’s the big deal?” Jim asked.

If only she knew. But somehow, inside, she knew it was a very big deal.

Jim leaned against the rock, his brow furrowed. “Mildred?”

“What?”

He shook his head. “What is the matter with you?”

“Nothing,” she replied automatically and stared beyond the rock.

“Interesting that you wanted to come to this rock today,” David said. Always the logical one he nodded toward the sun. “Were you interested in seeing the equinox?”

Jim rolled his eyes. “She’s seen it before. We all have.”

“Have we?” Mildred said, her gaze wandering to the sun. It was slowly sinking to the point where the rock would touch its belly. Yes, she’d watched this before but it’d never had sound.

“Sound? What do you mean?” David asked.

“Hmm?” Mildred looked from him to the sun. Had she said her thoughts aloud? No. Impossible.

Yet there was sound and it grew louder. Her attention turned to the rock and sun, she listened. She heard a strange wind and vibration. How was that possible?

“Listen to that,” she said. “Why didn’t we hear this before?”

“Hear what?” Jim asked and frowned. His eyes went from her to the rock and back. “I don’t hear anything.”

“I don’t either,” David said.

“Shhh.” Mildred felt the vibration in the rock. Or was it somehow the sun on the far off horizon? The wind increased, flipping the leaves. Any diehard New Englander knew that when the leaves flipped just so in the wind a storm was coming.

The minute she thought it the tip of the rock touched the bottom of the sun and black bellied clouds started to roll in, swiftly eliminating the sun’s rays. Breathing seemed impossible. When she looked at Jim he blurred. Panicked, she looked at David to find he’d all but disappeared.

“Where are you guys?” she yelled.

But they were gone. For that matter, everything save the rock and reemerged sun had vanished. There existed nothing but a vibrating rock, a loud hum and a long stream of near-blinding sun rays. By instinct, Mildred crouched to protect herself from the wind and sun. Plastered back against the rock she watched as the sun rays streamed past on either side. It was almost as if the sun itself was trying to swallow her whole if only it could find her.

“Mildred.”

Adlin? She heard his voice. But how was that possible? Mildred squinted but it hurt more and more to keep her eyes open. The vibration and strange sound became louder. Tucking her head into her legs, she started to pray.

The rock warmed and she tilted forward, disconcerted by the sensation. Panic rose but she tempered it. What good would anxiety do right now. She squeezed her eyes shut to the point of pain and tried to remain calm.

But it was becoming harder and harder.

The only reason she didn’t bolt was because of Adlin. She was positive that she’d heard him. And that was all she had to hold on to in what was quickly becoming pure madness. Mildred ignored the tear that leaked from her eye, ground her teeth and rode out the strange storm screeching and howling in what seemed an isolated world. As before when she traveled back, she smelled burning sugar.

Eventually, the sound started to fade as did the smell. Though she shook, Mildred focused on breathing. Almost afraid, she slowly opened her eyes. Not to sun burning and steaming around her but to a thick forest. David and Jim were gone. In fact, everything that’d been there before was gone. The air was slightly cool. Sea salt tainted the wind.

Mildred carefully stood. It almost felt as though if she made a sudden movement her world would come crashing down around her harder than it already had. But the strange wind had ceased. The severe sunlight was gone. All that existed was her and forest.

Peace.

“So are you a fairy then?”

Mildred scurried back against the rock and remained silent. Was she hearing things?

“No need to be alarmed. We’re alone.”

It took Mildred several more long moments to realize that the person who spoke was a child. She somewhat relaxed. “Who are you?”

The little boy plopped down in front of her and shrugged. “I’m just a stable boy.”

A stable boy? While she kept an eye on her surroundings she said, “Just a stable boy, huh?”

“Aye.” The boy nodded. “And you’re just a fairy, right?”

Cautious, Mildred sat and pulled her knees up. Yes, she could run and try to hide. But what would be the point. In her estimation, it’d do no good. “I’m not a fairy. I’m a woman.”

The little boy nodded and sighed. “That’s too bad because I really am just a stable boy.”

Mildred eyed him uncomfortably. How was she to believe that? “What’s your name?”

“James,” he said nonchalantly and twisted a pine needle around his finger.

“James is a good name,” she gave willingly. “My Da’s name is James.”

The boy arched his brows. “Really?”

Mildred studied him. As far as she could tell there existed nothing but innocence in his eyes. “Yes, really.”

James eyed her for several long seconds before he reluctantly asked, “Why are you out here alone? Nobody travels alone anymore, especially not a lass.”

“I would imagine not.” Mildred shifted uncomfortably. Was she back where she’d landed before? Obviously it was Scotland based on the boy’s thick brogue. But was she near Adlin?

“You should probably come with me. I’ll take you home.”

“Where is home?” she asked.

“Not far.” James held out his hand. “Come, I’ll show you.”

Mildred took his hand and let him lead her. To where she could only speculate. As they walked she asked, “Does your mama know you’re out her in the forest?”

“Aye!Of course. But she knows we MacLomains are explorers.”

So she’d returned to Adlin. Good. Or was that bad? Either way, her footsteps lightened and her chest felt a little less tight. Once she could talk to Adlin again, all of this would be worked out and she could return home, explanation intact. Mildred chose to ignore the extra beat of her heart and inability to swallow correctly.

“We’re not far now,” James said.

Thank God. But as they walked it became more and more apparent that this wasn’t where she’d been before… this wasn’t Cowal. “Does Chieftain Adlin know we’re coming?”

James shrugged innocently. “I dinnae ken. Chieftain Bruce probably does though.”

What?“Who?”

“Chieftain Bruce knows everything,” James said matter-of-factly.

“Bruce,” she murmured. “Not Adlin.”

James smiled and nodded. “Laird Bruce is kind and good. You need not worry.”

She didn’t miss the way his young voice wobbled when he said it nor the stiffening of his posture. Was he simply saying what he was supposed to? The wind blew up. Fear flooded her veins. Her palms grew sweaty. Should she run in the opposite direction? But where would she ultimately go? She’d been plopped back in Scotland and James had—however unknowing—been the one there to greet her. That must mean something.

“Are you cold then, lass?”

Mildred shook her head and tried not to shiver. “I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”

Another shrug from the boy and he continued. “The castle’s just up yonder.”

“What clan is it you belong to again?”

The boy looked at her as though she’d sprung an extra head. “The MacLomain clan.”

He seemed quite sure. Yet how was that possible? The land was considerably different here. Colder, harsher, there existed more rock than trees. Wind blew strong through what was quickly becoming a scarce forest until the trees all but vanished and they walked on a barren path over craggy rock.

Inch by inch a castle appeared over the horizon. Thoroughly chilled and underdressed, Mildred could admit the place, though stern, appeared welcoming. Fear was not an emotion she allowed herself as they trudged closer. But what she wouldn’t do to be home. Or even to have Adlin here. A man she’d only just met! Still, she knew she’d feel far safer.

“They see we’re coming.” James nodded at the castle.

Mildred stopped short. They knew alright.

Twenty armed men were riding their way.