Could it have been through her that they were doomed to bear this magic? From a woman who had died because she didn’t know her power?
Was that also their fates?
“Something’s nae right here,” Gordon rumbled.
Hamish glanced up from his hands. They were almost home, their chosen path taking them around the cliff rather than through the middle of Mullhind. Nothing about their immediate surroundings suggested anything was off.
His brother’s attention was focused on the castle where swathes of fabric and thick braids of spring foliage adorned the entrance. “That cannae be good.”
“Looks like preparation for spring festivities to me,” Darshan said.
Gordon shook his head, sweeping aside any coils of hair foolish enough to impede his vision. “They wouldnae start without us.” His brother glanced his way.
Instantly, Hamish’s stomach dropped. There’d been two other instances where the castle had been decorated outside of the usual festivals. Both times had involved the union contest and had culminated with his siblings getting married.
She promised. He had expressed his reluctance for women to go through such a competition for him multiple times. His mother had always insisted she wouldn’t dare send out the word until he had chosen a woman he found worthy. “Do you think she’s—?”
“I didnae see any sign of camps on the way in.” Uncertainty pinched his brother’s face. Just because they hadn’t witnessed the calling of the clans didn’t mean much. There were a number of reasons as to why, starting with the possibility that their mother hadn’t yet sent the call.
The guards at the castle gates offered only their customary salute. They were garbed no differently from any other day. Surely if other clans were around, or expected, then the castle guards would be dressed in their finest armour. The courtyard also seemed to have the right amount of bustling about for mid-afternoon and there was a distinct lack of strange horses in the stables. Maybe it really was just early spring festivities.
“Finally,” Nora blurted from the castle entrance. She trotted across to them as they halted their horses in the middle of the courtyard. “You lot chose a bad time to wander off.”
“Why?” Gordon asked before Hamish could open his mouth. “Did something bad happen?” His brother dismounted faster than the rest of them. He grabbed their sister’s shoulders, almost lifting her off the ground. “Is Sorcha injured?”
“Your daughter’s fine. But you should’ve been here.” Nora turned to Hamish and grimaced. “You’re going to want to see Mum. She’ll be waiting in her study.”
Apprehension tingled along his skin. His gaze darted to his brother and was met with only a stony expression. He had considered that word of what had transpired at the guard outpost a fortnight ago might reach here before them, but he couldn’t see how. And his mother wouldn’t be asking for him. “What for?”
“Just go to her study,” Nora repeated.
“Tell me she hasnae done something foolish,” Gordon begged, as Hamish strode up the stairs.
Nora’s silence knotted Hamish’s stomach. It could only mean one thing. She has. Opening the door, he glanced over his shoulder at his siblings.
Gordon had tightened his hold on Nora’s shoulders, forcing her to face him. “Tell me what she’s done.” The command boomed across the courtyard.
If their sister replied, it was lost to Hamish as he entered the castle. Whatever their mother had done, he would find out from the source soon enough.
Thunk!
The arrow veered too far to the left of centre, joining its kin on the edge of the target.
Grumbling, Hamish nocked another arrow and took aim. Just a fluke, is all. He never missed. Not since that first day of training so long ago.
He recalled back then as if his boyhood self stood right before him, frustrated after a long day of practice. Even as young as seven, he could hit the target. But there’d been no consistency to those hits, each mark scattered around the outer rings like a drunken man’s game of darts. Not like his brother, who could put three of every four arrows near the middle of the target. He had been so angry, then. So jealous of his brother’s talents.
And now, he was the one surpassing everyone he had ever competed against.
Except it wasn’t so easy at this moment, not when his mother’s words kept playing in his mind. How could she? She had promised him.
He knocked on the door to his mother’s study and stood waiting, the desire to burst into the room close to overwhelming. His stomach was leaden, cramping and ready to expel his meal. No actual clue as to why he was here other than she wanted to speak with him.
Answers. He needed them. Craved to know, to assuage the fear bubbling in his chest. What could she want? What had she done that would send Nora into a tizzy?
Not daring to breathe, he loosed the arrow. Again, it fell short of its mark.
Curse Darshan. It was all his doing, filling his head with talk of magic. He wasn’t a spellster. He couldn’t be. He just needed to focus. On the moment, not the memory of the mess he had left behind in that study.
He flung the door open at the first pealing call of her permission to enter. His mother sat in her usual padded chair near the fireplace, casually working a needle through a small piece of hooped linen. Although she had plenty of servants that could’ve done her needlework for her, his mother had a fondness for such tasks.
“You wanted to see me?” Hamish shuffled in the doorway. His gaze flicked over the room. Nothing unusual.
His mother glanced up from her needlework. “I did.” She carried on with her sewing as if it was far more important than their conversation. “About your lack of enthusiasm in finding a wife. I—”
“It’s taking longer than usual,” he blurted, hoping to stave off
