Donna Grant: Shadow Highlander

Tomorrow Reaghan planned to leave the only home she had ever known.

The small village went about its daily life, unaware, and uncaring, of the turmoil that ripped through one of their own. Reaghan didn’t want to leave. She was a part of the land, the village, and its people.

Yet how could she ignore the insistence of her own feelings?

It was true the Druids who had left the village over the years were never seen from again, but there was an exciting world out there. She yearned to see the world for herself and to experience it — all of it — but she also feared leaving.

She didn’t know what was out there. Though she did knew who was out there — Deirdre.

Not to mention that the only men left in their dwindling group just tottered about, barely able to stand on their own. Neither of them would be fit choices for a husband. Besides, they were already married.

Reaghan wanted … more of a life, more in her life than what she had. It wasn’t that she was unhappy with the Druids. In fact, she was very content. But the part of her that wanted and needed more wouldn’t be denied.

The ache, the need, to see and experience more had grown in the past six months to the point that she could no longer push it aside. It was as if her future were right in front of her and she had only to reach out and grab it.

Every time she had tried to talk to Mairi about it, however, the elder was quick to point out why the village needed Reaghan.

Mairi and the other elders meant well, but Reaghan had to make this decision on her own. It would likely tear her in two, but she had to leave. There was something out there for her to do; she just didn’t know what it was yet.

Then there was the parchment Reaghan had come upon in Mairi’s chest by accident. It had been so old the edges had crumbled when her fingers touched them. The words, though faded, had been in Gaelic — a language Reaghan had never read before, but somehow she had recognized the words. Had understood them.

That surprise faded to nothing when she read her name and discovered she wasn’t from Loch Awe but instead came from a group of Druids of Foinaven Mountain.

There was no mention of her parents. Nothing about why she had been sent to Loch Awe or what had happened to make her parents send her away. Had her parents died? Did she have other family?

Just those few sentences, so very few words in the parchment, but they created more questions.

There had been so many questions running through her mind. Her head had swum with suspicion and supposition. Mairi had been like a mother to her. She wanted to give the elder a chance to explain things.

As usual, Mairi had given evasive answers to her initial questions, and Reaghan sensed if she mentioned the parchment Mairi would lie. And Reaghan couldn’t handle that. For some reason Mairi and the other elders thought they had to lie to her about her past. But why? What was so awful?

Regardless of what it was, Reaghan wanted the truth.

But Mairi wouldn’t give her the truth. Not even a glimmer of it. No matter how many times Reaghan asked about her parents, Mairi would give the same response she had given for years — that they had found her and saved her from a fever.

That’s when she began to question everything the elders told her. They had been lying to her for years about where she came from. What else were they lying about?

Reaghan had put the parchment with her own things and begun to plan to find the Druids and the home where she belonged. It was as good a place as any to begin, and maybe it would halt the persistent feeling inside her that told her there was something for her to do.

On the morrow Reaghan would depart the safe haven she had known for ten years and strike out on her own into a world she didn’t know.

Tomorrow, everything would change. For better or worse. She was fearful but eager. Nervous but exhilarated. It was the start of a new life, one she intended to seize with both hands and make the most of. Whatever the outcome.

She had dreams she wanted to fulfill, like anyone else. But she didn’t want much. She wanted to be happy, to find a man with whom she could share her life and start a family. She wanted children to fill her days with laughter and memories.

Reaghan was brought out of her thoughts when someone bumped into her. She blinked and focused on the faces around her as they stood in the middle of their small village. Mairi shook her head in frustration as she began to speak of their need to hunt for food.

The pounding began at the base of Reaghan’s neck and worked its way up to her temples, increasing with each beat of her heart. She didn’t know why her head had begun to ache the past month as it had, and she feared there was no cure for it.

She put a hand to her forehead. The coolness against her skin gave some relief, but not nearly enough. Reaghan tried to hide her grimace of pain as she turned away, but Mairi’s brown eyes were sharp, despite her age.

“You’re hurting again, child. You need to rest.”

The soft, comforting hands that had helped heal Reaghan from the fever so long ago took hold of her arms now and guided her to her cottage.

Not that the structure could be called a cottage. The Druids had moved around Loch Awe for years until the young ones began to go away, leaving only the older Druids and a few others who didn’t want to abandon the beauty and safety of the loch. That’s when, hundreds of years ago, the Druids had decided to make a permanent village hidden away from the world by magic and blending into the surroundings.

Reaghan leaned her hand against the trunk of the giant oak that stood in the middle of her home. She looked up to see the branches of the noble tree as supports for the roof, which was covered with leaves and vines to shield them from the elements. Large, cut limbs were bound together with vines and used for the walls. The skillful use of the trees blended with the magic created an illusion that one could mistake the cottages for nothing more than the forest.

All the Druids used what nature supplied them with to craft their homes. Many travelers walked past their village and never saw it.

“Sit,” Mairi ordered, her voice brooking no argument.

Reaghan allowed the old woman to push her down into a chair. The throbbing of her head always began slowly, building with intensity. And each day when it came, it grew worse, lasted longer. Reaghan would be weak for hours afterward, her body not her own.

Something wasn’t right. Reaghan knew it in the marrow of her bones. But no matter who she asked or what she asked, no one had any answers. Maybe the headaches were connected to the long-ago fever Mairi had saved her from and no one wanted to tell her.

“I’ll be fine,” Reaghan said, and took the cool, wet cloth Mairi handed her. She put it to her forehead and sighed. Just speaking made her head pound worse. The ache was so terrible she couldn’t clamp her teeth together.

Years could have passed as Reaghan endured the pain, concentrating on keeping her stomach from souring. Just as suddenly as the ache had come on, it disappeared. For long moments Reaghan didn’t move, afraid her head would begin to hammer again. Her body was weak, and all she wanted to do was lie down and sleep.

Finally, she dropped the cloth and raised her head. “It is gone.”

“For now,” Mairi murmured. Her eyes, filled with concern, dropped to the table as she tapped the wood with a fingernail. “How bad was this one?”

“I was able to handle the pain.”

Mairi smiled sadly and cupped Reaghan’s cheek. “My darling girl, that is not what I asked.”

“It was worse than the one from yesterday.”

Mairi lowered her hand and looked away, but not before Reaghan saw the resignation in her old brown eyes.