Holding the pendant helped soothe the last vestiges of the dream from my mind. I was beginning to believe that these dreams weren’t coincidence. The same people reappeared over and over. While dreaming, I could see their faces, even knew their names, but every time I woke up, their faces were indistinct, their names on the tip of my tongue, whispered memories all but forgotten.
The only tangible thing I brought back from the dreams were the emotions: anger, lust, and hate. The pendant pulsed suddenly, a burning warmth blooming against my palm. I opened my hand to find the amber stone was twinkling. Was it responding to the images in my dream?
I closed my eyes, trying to again bring up a vision of the dark-haired man with the fractured eye, but the impression was gone. The pendant’s fire banked, and its humming ceased. I sighed, dropping it to rest against my chest. The loss of the pendant’s warmth was instantaneous, highlighting that the air in the room was cool, bordering on freezing. It was a reminder of what today was: Yule, the shortest day of the year.
Gage’s growled warning propelled me into motion. I scrambled out of bed, reaching for my clothes from the day before. Not having time for my usual braid, I tied the long, unruly length of my hair into a rough ponytail, shoving a baseball cap over the top. Leaning down, I swiftly tied the shoelaces on my trainers before taking a deep breath. I was done waiting. The inaction was crippling me.
Today, I’m going to overcome the wall.
As I walked down the banister to the foyer below, my gaze immediately caught on Gage’s strong form as he stood waiting by the front door. In the gloom of dawn, his features were indistinguishable, but his posture said a thousand words. He was ready, alert, and in control. As if he could handle anything.
Since we’d begun training, he’d ditched his usual black jeans and leather jacket for shorts, a long-sleeve thermal, and running shoes. It was a sin to look so good first thing in the morning.
I cleared my throat, determined to begin the day on a good note. Today I would not trade insults. Today was going to be a good day. “Good morning.”
Gage didn’t respond, stoic and silent.
I felt my face flush, but I kept walking forward. I didn’t look at him as he opened the door. I passed through swiftly and was immediately hit by the chill Scottish air. It attacked the bare skin on my cheeks, its icy fingers seeping into my training gear. I determinedly walked forward onto the lawn. It wasn’t the cold that scared me, not anymore. Neither was it the physical aches or the feeling of my body being pushed to its absolute limit. Nor was it the attempt to scale the wall. It was the look of disappointment on Gage’s features when I made no progress at the end of every training session.
I gritted my teeth. But not today.
Every day, I was arrested by the beauty of the countryside around us, and this morning was no different. The first fingers of dawn were just beginning to bloom across the sky, blushing the color of a ripened peach. The tall peaks of the Cairngorms stood silent and imposing, their summits slumbering under a heavy blanket of snow.
My father had seen this view, likely thousands of times while he was growing up. Just knowing that he’d been raised here, walked this very same path, played in the garden, slept in the castle, was enough to bolster my courage and reaffirm my determination that today I would make progress.
I could feel Gage at my back, following me silently to the usual park bench where I habitually deposited my drink bottle and a snack bar. I dropped the items and turned to him.
His breath fogged around his face as he barked without preamble, “Let’s go.”
Gage took off without a backward glance, body moving powerfully as he ran. I stared, transfixed. “Move it!” he barked over his shoulder.
Face flushing, I propelled myself into motion and ran after him.
He led me around the lawn four times before taking off down the driveway. I stumbled a few times in the early morning light, unable to decipher overgrown tree roots and broken branches. Gage didn’t have a problem in the half-light; his vision was exceptional—a gift of his inheritance. He never asked if I was okay as I came to my feet, just stopped and waited for me to continue. Asking if I was okay was a line that couldn’t be crossed.
He led me to just within the shield of the wards closest to the road before turning sharply to run back the way we’d come. The return path was not as challenging, the sun higher in the sky, its warmth lifting the layer of light fog around the abundance of trees. My breath came easier now, my body succumbing to physical routine.
Twenty minutes later, we were back on the lawn. Gage proceeded to run me through a series of sprint runs and strengthening exercises. Breakfast came and went, a simple affair of granola bars and fruit before I was put through my paces and forced to practice a series of self-defense moves.
Gage appeared off, more withdrawn than usual, nor was he making his usual crushing comments. I didn’t ask him what was wrong. We didn’t have that kind of relationship. He’d set those boundaries weeks ago, and I’d be damned if I’d give him the satisfaction of showing him I cared.
Regardless, that tickle between my shoulder blades said that whatever was up with him today did not bode well for me.
After another healing, lunch arrived, and I took mine under the shade of the trees. As always, Gage was a silent shadow I couldn’t lose, but he maintained his distance, positioning himself within twenty meters of where I sat. As soon as my sandwich was finished, he walked over.
“It’s time for Druidic training.”
I felt the color leach from my face. My stomach churned, the sandwich coiling in my gut. I resolutely pushed the nerves down and reaffirmed the task ahead. Today I am going to tap into my birthright and claim my magic. Today, the wall will be overcome.
“I’m ready,” I replied firmly.
But then Gage shook his head. “Not here. We’re going to try something different today. Follow me.”
He turned and began to stride north, toward the tree line on the other side of the lawn area.
“Wait! What’s the plan?”
Gage shot me a gaze over his shoulder. “You’ll see. Come.”
I gritted my teeth against yet another non-answer. When was he going to trust me? His long strides were eating up the distance. He wouldn’t wait for me. Clenching my fists, I bit down a curse and broke into a run.
I caught up with him just as we entered the forest. A shiver hit my back. This was new territory. I’d never been taken past the lawn area before.
As soon as we entered the forest, the world became dim, the sunlight providing only dappled areas of light through the canopy above. The air was thick and heavy. There was no birdsong, no rustle of leaves, no animal sounds. Everything was still and eerily quiet—unnatural.
I felt a faint prickling at the back of my neck. What was this place? I knew asking Gage was pointless, he would only tell me when he deemed it necessary. So I bit my tongue and kept pace just behind him.
Gage moved quickly through the foliage as if he knew exactly where he was going. For about ten minutes, we continued in silence at a brisk pace until Gage stopped abruptly. I stumbled, just preventing myself from tumbling into his back.
“We’re here.”
He stood aside, and I was able to look past him.
We’d come to a small, circular clearing about twenty meters in diameter. The forest bordered it on all sides, encircling it with a wall of tall trees. The heady scent of pine and frost permeated the air. My focus was taken by the pool of water in the middle of the clearing. Right next to it was a large, flat stone elevated by a few smaller stones underneath. The large stone lay horizontal to the ground, the top of it polished smooth. It looked large enough to lie on.