Hidden Jewel (Heartfire Series) (51 page)

He had shocked her. The refusal to
see
her while he vented his pain and disbelief upon her, to use her, so unexpectedly, and very nearly in the manner of which she had, only minutes before, blindly accused both he and Jacob of practicing in secrecy, not recently but at some point in their young lives. An accusation which she had not really wanted to believe even as the words passed her lips. She did not know what to think after such a display. She did not want to think, after, because the strangeness of it had only reinforced the unwanted vision so clearly at the forefront of her mind in the past few days, a sight so vile that it should have filled her with loathing for them both although it did not; instead, the dream she had had filled her with an incomparable curiosity to know how true it had been. She had no idea what to believe, nor whether it would matter in the long run. She sincerely hoped not. Incestuous relations, as well as homosexuality, neither were the least bit unusual even within the ancient high ranking lines of her own odd kin. It was frowned upon in varying degrees, yes, but, given that it was a natural urge, a natural hunger, that brought it about, it was often overlooked. Too often, in her eyes, though she would be hard pressed to even attempt to change it when she took over the leadership of the Gentry and certain of the Highland Clans alike. She was already in enough danger as it was. Ailill understood that as well as she understood that she was different from every person in Willow Wisp, including her own parents. A fact that she knew neither of the raven twins would understand if they had finally begun to listen. Both would most certainly look at her in a new light and she could not help but wonder if they would be as accepting of her as they were now. One man knew the truth, and look where that had gotten her. Kiah Black's threats were nothing compared to what a few had already promised for her when she fulfilled so many prophesies and took over the various roles which she had been raised for; when she claimed the titles with which she had been bequeathed merely by being born alive and staying that way, this time. There had already been a few too many attempts on her life, and one clear hit which had forced her to begin again; which had made her seem so very young, on the outside.

That was part of the reason that James had been so insistent that she return and join with the two beautiful men, instead of staying in Scotland and joining with Tiernan as she had wished; as she had begged and pleaded to be allowed to do. Such a move would surely destroy everything that the
Sidhe
had worked toward, if it had been allowed. She wondered if the forced relations with the dark lads would destroy
her
, in the end. It had certainly changed her since the day she had met them, of that she had no doubt.

Lost in the shadows of her own thoughts, Ailill was not paying attention to where she was, her surroundings completely unfamiliar when at last she glanced about. The forest had thickened considerably, even more so than Wilderdeep; it suddenly seemed immensely foreboding, and she turned at once, wishing to be gone from such a dank, terrible place, away from a rapidly growing sense of cold and darkness that wrapped icy tendrils around the tender walls of her young heart, threatened to squeeze the very life from it. Moving quietly, glancing carefully about, it finally struck her that she'd simply wandered too far, to the very edge of the wards placed at intervals over the mount, the woods of her childhood. A few more feet, perhaps, and she would have seen the land for what it truly was; disenchanted, war-torn. Total devastation within any given city, and not much better out in the sticks.

Today is not the day for exploring that awful realm
.

Her kin had done a bang-up job of hiding the outside from those safely ensconced inside. Her tiny feet turned inward again, blazing a narrow path through decades worth, thick layers of dead leaves and fallen underbrush, the tanned skin of her knees flashing below the pleated line of a kilt the same deep browns and greens of the forest that whizzed by on either side of her face, a blur among the lines of her peripheral vision as she sprinted further into an unfamiliar area beneath the dark canopy of leaf and limb. Coming to a sudden halt, Ailill's arm shot out, a thin branch clutched tightly in her fist just in time to keep her from toppling over the edge of a ravine. Breath coming in ragged gasps, she took two steps back, widened eyes directed downward into the darkness below.

The drop-off was steep; twenty feet directly below her, Ailill's keen eyes could just make out the grayish coloring of a jagged granite ledge, the sharp corner thrust up at an odd angle by an upheaval of the earth's crust long before. Frequent short but intense storms were a common occurrence in the mountains, the elevation high enough to create unusual weather patterns that worked to dump inches of rain or feet of snow in a short period of time, occasionally flooding the dozens of tiny streams and runnels that ran over the surface of the mount in a criss-crossing pattern. The best guess that Ailill could come up with for the sudden appearance of a massive hole in the middle of an otherwise healthy forest was that at some point in time, most likely years before, the runoff became too much for the ancient wood; the walls of a sizable underground spring, flooded by the sudden deluge, cracked under the pressure, the weight of the water-logged earth causing the weakened tunnel to collapse in on itself, the force creating a sinkhole that was at once filled with churning silty water which scrubbed clean the granite beneath before the water drained or evaporated away, leaving a gaping maw in the forest floor. She saw all of this clearly in a matter of half-seconds.

Backing slowly away, the sound of her heart pounded noisily in Ailill's ears, drowning out the child-like whimper of fear echoing inside her skull, her stomach making it's way back down from her chest. Normally fearful of nothing, the near accident sent a chill down her spine that made her look around carefully at the eerily dank realm, the unfamiliar area of the forest. A sense of uneasy displacement forced her to regain her bearings; a sudden knowing of what would soon come to pass set her feet to moving, backtracking as quickly as possible, the increasing strength of each set of wards her compass, not daring to breathe a sigh of relief until the sun-dappled clearing around the cabin was once again within view.

They were there. The sleek, dark heads of both Micah and Jacob were bent together in quiet conversation, the sandwiches she had made not an hour before untouched. Moving with the silence and stealth of an experienced hunter, Ailill cautiously drew closer, the desire to know what would be said of her returning at once, with a vengeance, compelling her to conjure a veil that would keep her presence unknown until she wished to show herself; that would keep her telltale scent, her natural pheromone, in check while she stood close by. She watched them unobtrusively from just outside the door, her perfect hearing making every word intelligible, her lips turning down in a slight frown at what she was doing; it was completely against her natural instincts to spy on anyone, excepting the occasional suspected adversary; and neither Jacob, nor his twin, even came close to that unhappy description.

"Y'all saw that picture, man; same as I did," Micah's deep voice said softly. "The guy obviously felt somethin' truly deep for her. It looked...I dunno, kinda like he owned her, or wanted to; and the scars...I can only imagine how bad
that
must've hurt. They look like he nearly sliced her little hands in half, even now, if what he claimed was true. If he really did cut her in a vow of blood, that is. I can't help wonderin' exactly how much they did do together. If it weren't for the blood, that first time..." His voice trailed off, his mind obviously struggling to fit the pieces of the puzzle together. Ailill couldn't help but wonder what had brought that on, what she had missed. Easing closer, she truly wished that the two were facing her; their unusual eyes spoke far more loudly than any words. One thing was clear. They spoke of Tiernan as if they'd already met the lad, though all three of her cousins had assured her just weeks ago that that was not the case. That her love had been forbidden by his own father to show himself to his brothers until Ailill, herself, deemed them ready. Oh, how she missed Duffy! The huge bear of a man would have forced the lads to see the truth within a day, whereas she'd already been with them, on and off, for months now, and still they, both of them, balked at everything, refused to believe.

Jacob grunted rather expressively in agreement, dark eyes scanning the tree line through the window, in the direction from which Ailill would most likely return, watching for any sign of her. "Yeah, she's a natural; that's for sure. If she's lied, about anything, then she must have a good reason," he said simply, turning his gaze back to Micah's troubled face. "She's more honest than anyone we've ever known. I dunno how she does it." Shrugging slightly, Jacob resettled himself, stretching his long legs full length, heels resting on a fur rug Ailill had presented them with upon her most recent return; a luxuriant thing made of rabbit skins. He'd attempted to make love to her on it almost instantly, much to his chagrin. She did not want
him
... not when she had the nicer of the two already. The embarrassment that failed attempt had left him with made Jacob question his own ability in the love department. There had been a time when he believed he was the best. And now? Well, he had his doubts.

"It's strange, you know. We've both known all along that there was something different about her, and now, when she's finally trying to tell us what it is, we both feel like she ain't told us nothin'. Sometimes she seems a tiny bit outta whack, but hell if I really know why that is." His eyes were trained intently on his twin; Ailill could see the smooth, sharp line of his finely etched nose, the squared curve of his clefted chin. She was struck suddenly by the way his lashes swept across the entire line of his high, angular cheekbone with each blink, and she nearly giggled aloud out of pure nervousness. Jacob, and Micah, had very feminine eyelashes. Thick as a painter's brush, curled up at the tips; any girl in Willow Wisp would be envious if they ever truly took the time to notice more than his body, his perfectly symmetrical good looks. The thought made her thoroughly jealous of every single woman whom Jacob had ever been the least bit intimate with; for a few seconds, at least.

"Confidence," Micah muttered. He glanced around, wondering what was holding the tiny beauty up. He hoped she hadn't already left. "Or, maybe over-confidence." He looked back over at his twin. "I've never seen her truly ashamed of anything she's said or done." He cheeks flushed with the recent memory of his unapologetic demands back in the wood. "Even things that embarrass me don't really affect her," he finished quietly. His face felt as if it were on fire. He had never done anything so spontaneous in his entire life.

Laughing aloud, Jacob laid a hand on Micah's shoulder. "Yeah, Brother," he replied, flashing him a wry grin. "That's that innocence you're so fond of; and it's what you love the most about her. Don't blame our beautiful flower because y'all weren't her first love; I don't. Besides, she wasn't yours either." Pulling his hand away at the thought, he added, "Hell, Micah, I'll always be second to y'all and it ain't killin' me. I've had a bit of time to think things over." His eyes flashed knowingly, the surprise over what Micah had immediately confessed to upon his return to the camp hidden deep inside his mind until he had time to mull it over, alone. "I think we shouldn't judge the guy without getting to know him. It's what Ailill would want, you know? I say we go...well, wherever the hell it is she figures she's taking us, when the time comes. If we hate it, or him, then we'll just tell her we need to get back to our sweet McKell. Abby loves the baby; she'll understand."

Micah frowned deeply in contemplation for a moment before giving a reluctant nod, the long waves of his hair swaying with the movement. "You're right, Jacob," he said unhappily, resigned to the plan. "We'll meet him in person first, judge him later. I still don't get how he could have tried to force her out of his life, though. I wouldn't be able to, and neither would you. I doubt anyone really could. She's never noticed it, but I've seen even girls  watching her in town, before we came out here. She's more beautiful than them all, and she seems like she doesn't even realize it, but even people of her own sex are attracted to her."

"That's 'cause she
is
more beautiful than them. They're all jealous," Jacob drawled with a laugh.

Micah grinned over at him knowingly, shaking his head at his twin's weird sense of humor, glad to see that he had obviously not taken Ailill's hurtful words of earlier to heart. His carefully worded explanation of all that the girl had revealed had most definitely helped. Micah, himself, was pleased that it had taken no time at all to convince Jacob to go with the girl, wherever she wished to lead them, no matter how long it took for her to come to terms... to lie with Jacob, as she always put it..

"I ain't kidding," Jacob stated emphatically. "Y'all should've heard 'em when I went down there with James, on his morning rounds. Petty little wenches; most of 'em think that Abby's a snob, 'cause she don't go down the mountain much; she keeps us all for herself, they said. None of them like it that I've stuck with her, except for Janie Forrester. But she claims she knew we were supposed to be with Ailill, not her, and that's why she never accepted more than a little slap and tickle from me, and that incredible kiss from you, her words, not mine."