Awakened

Sgiach’s smile grew and turned warm. Seoras joined us in the grove, moving to his queen’s side. She touched him just for a moment on his strong forearm, but that touch was filled with several lifetimes of love and trust and intimacy.

“Hello, my Guardian. Did you bring the bow and arrows for her?”

Seoras’s lips twisted. “Aye, of course I did.” The old Warrior turned and I could see that he held an intricately carved bow made of dark wood. The matching leather quiver filled with red-feathered arrows was slung across his shoulder.

“Good.” She smiled appreciation at him before turning her gaze to me. “Zoey, you’ve learned much today. Your Guardian needs a lesson in believing in magick and Goddess-given gifts, too.” Sgiach took the bow and arrows from Seoras and held them out to me. “Take these to Stark. He has too long been without them.”

“You really think that’s a good idea?” I asked Sgiach, glancing askance at the bow and arrows.

“What I think is that your Stark will not be complete unless he accepts his Goddess-given gifts.”

“He had a claymore in the Otherworld. Couldn’t that be his weapon here, too?”

Sgiach just looked at me, the shadow of the magick we’d both just experienced still reflected in her green eyes.

I sighed.

And, reluctantly, held out my hand to take the bow and quiver of arrows from her.

“He’s not really comfortable with this,” I said.

“Aye, but he should be,” Seoras said.

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew everything that went along with this thing,” I said.

“If it’s that he ca

“He told you all about it.”

“He did.”

“And you still think he should get back into using his bow?”

“It’s not so much Seoras thinking it as the fact that he knows, from centuries of experience, what happens when a Guardian’s Goddess-given gifts are ignored,” Sgiach said.

“What happens?”

“The same thing as happens if a High Priestess tries to turn from the path her Goddess has paved before her,” Seoras said.

“Like Neferet,” I whispered.

“Aye,” he said. “Like the fallen High Priestess who tainted yur House of Night and caused the death of yur Consort.”

“Though in all truthfulness you should know that it’s not necessarily such a dire choice between good and evil when a Guardian, or a Warrior, ignores his gifts from his Goddess and turns from her appointed path. Sometimes that simply means a life unfulfilled and as mundane as is possible for a vampyre,” Sgiach explained.

“But if ’tis a Warrior whose gifts are powerful, or one who has faced Darkness, been touched by the fight against evil—well, that Warrior ca

“And Stark is both,” I said.

“He is indeed. Continue to trust me, Zoey. It is better for your Guardian to walk the path meant for him than to slink around and, perhaps, get caught in the shadows,” Sgiach said.

“I see your point, but getting him to use his bow again isn’t going to be easy.”

“Ach, well, yu have the magick of the ancients to call upon while yur here on our isle, don’t you now?”

I looked from Seoras to Sgiach. They were right. I felt it in my gut. Stark couldn’t hide from the gifts Nyx had given him any more than I could deny my co

“The laddie is restless,” Seoras said. “I saw him walkin’ by the shore side of the castle.”

My heart squeezed. We’d just decided the day before that we were going to stay here on Skye, indefinitely. And after what had just happened with Sgiach and me, I could hardly bear thinking about leaving. “But he seemed fine with staying,” I spoke my thoughts aloud.

“What’s wrong with him isna so much where he is, but who he is,” Seoras said.

“Huh?” I said brilliantly.

“Zoey, what Seoras means is that you’ll find your Guardian’s restlessness much improved when he is a whole Warrior again,” Sgiach said.

“And a whole Warrior uses all of his gifts,” Seoras said with finality.

“Go to him and help him become whole again,” Sgiach said.

“How?” I asked.

“Ach, wumman, use yur Goddess-given brains and figure that oot for yurself.”

With a gentle push and a shooing motion, the queen and her Guardian sent me from the grove. I sighed, mentally scratched my head, and started toward the shoreline wondering just what the heck kind of word ach was.

CHAPTER TEN

Zoey

Distracted by thinking about Stark, I made my way down the slippery stone stairway that wound around the base of the castle, emptying out on the rocky shore from which Sgiach’s edifice had been built straight up, so that it was cliff-like and totally imposing.

The sun was begi

Stark was alone. His back was to me and I got to watch him as I picked my way across the shore to him. He held a large leather shield in one hand, and a long claymore in the other, and he was practicing thrusts and parries as if he were facing a dangerous, but invisible, enemy. I moved quietly, taking my time and enjoying the view.

Had he gotten taller all of a sudden? And more muscular? He was sweating and breathing hard, and he looked strong and very, very male and dangerous-ancient-Warrior-like in his kilt. I remembered how his body had felt against mine the night before, and how we’d slept all pressed together, and my stomach gave a weird little lurch.

He makes me feel safe, and I love him.

I could stay here with him, away from the rest of the world, forever.

A chill passed over me with the thought and I shivered. At that moment Stark dropped his guard and turned. I saw the alert concern in his eyes that only faded when I smiled and waved at him. Then his gaze went to what I was holding in the hand I was waving, and his welcoming smile faded, even though he opened his arms to me, hugged me, and gave me a lingering kiss.

“Hey, you look hot when you do that sword stuff,” I said.

“It’s called training. And I’m not supposed to look hot, Z. I’m supposed to look intimidating.”

“Oh, you do, you do. I was practically scared to death.” I put on my best bad, fake–Southern belle accent and pressed the back of my hand to my forehead like I was go

“You’re really not very good at accents, ma’am,” he said in a seriously good fake-Southern accent. Then he took my hand and held it against his chest right over his heart, moving close to me. “But if you want, Miss Zoey, I could try to teach you.”

Okay, I know it’s silly, but his Southern gentleman accent made my knees feel all weak—and then his words actually got through the lust fog I was brewing for him, and suddenly I knew how to start getting him comfortable with his bow again.

“Hey, I am hopeless at accents, but there is something you could teach me.”

“Aye, wumman, there’s lots I could be teachin’ yu the now,” he leered, sounding totally like Seoras.

I smacked him. “Be good. I’m talking about this.” I raised the bow. “I’ve always thought archery was cool, but I really don’t know much about it. Could you teach me? Please?”

Stark took a step away from me, giving the bow a wary glance. “Zoey, you know I shouldn’t shoot that.”

“No. What you shouldn’t do is aim for something that’s alive. Well, that is unless the alive thing needs to be un-alive. But I’m not asking you to shoot it. I’m asking you to teach me how to shoot it.”

“Why do you all of a sudden want to learn?”