Kilted Sins – Bonus Prologue
Six months earlier, August 1297.
Enya examined Fiona’s arm, cradling the fragile limb in her hands. Fiona was an old woman—she had been ever since Enya could remember, and now her bones seemed more brittle than ever, to the point where Enya visited her little cottage often in order to help her as much as she could. Though there was nothing she could do to strengthen her limbs, much to her chagrin, she could at least heal her whenever she broke a bone or sprained a joint, lessening her pain as much as she could.
“How did ye even dae this, Fiona?” she asked, tutting to herself. “I’ve told ye tae be careful.”
“When ye’re me age, lassie, it doesnae matter how careful ye are,” Fiona said, her pale, rheumy eyes staring up at her. “Dinnae fash. I ken how tae take care o’ meself.”
Enya didn’t know whether that was true. After all, Fiona lived in a cottage in the middle of the woods, away from everyone else even now in her advanced age. Were something to happen to her and she could not send for help, there would be no one there to help her.
Enya didn’t know why she insisted on being away from people, though she supposed it would be the same for her if she didn’t have her family to rely on. Fiona, like the MacLeods had a power, though neither her nor any of Enya’s siblings knew what that power was. All they knew was that she preferred to keep herself isolated and that they were the only ones with whom she was so well acquainted—which was to say not well at all.
Even with Enya’s frequent visits to her, Fiona remained a mystery to her. Her cottage was small, holding just the necessities within its four walls—a rickety bed, two wooden chairs, a small table, and a stove—but she had somehow managed to plant a sprawling garden, even as she lived in the middle of the forest. Enya didn’t know whether she had simply found a large clearing or she had cleared out the area herself as a younger woman—either seemed likely, and even if she asked, she knew she would receive no satisfactory answer. Especially in the summer, though, the air always smelled of flowers, their scent permeating every part of Fiona’s home.
Pressing her fingers against the fracture, Enya let her energy pour from he hands to Fiona, healing her. Warmth spread over her hands, as always, along with that familiar tingling sensation which told her the job was being done. Within moments, Fiona was as good as new, stretching her arm to test it.
“Ach, thank ye, Enya,” Fiona said, taking her hand in hers and giving it a gentle pat. “Ye’re a good lass. I dinnae ken what I’ll dae without ye now that ye’ll be gone.”
Enya frowned at that, confusion and a vague sense of dread settling heavy over her shoulders. “What dae ye mean?” she asked. “I am nae goin’ anywhere.”
“Aye,” said Fiona with a nod. “Ye are.”
She was used to Fiona speaking in riddles, but she usually avoided saying anything too personal to Enya. Saying something like this was as rare as it was jarring and she needed to learn more. Where was she going? How long would she be gone?
Before she could ask any of those questions, though, Fiona added, “Ye must be careful with yer power. It is a lovely thing. A magnificent thing. But ye ken what will happen if ye push yerself tae the brink.”
Enya did, in fact, know. There were plenty of warnings in her mother’s journals regarding those who inherited this gift and how they could perish if they tried to bring someone back from the dead. Not only that, but her mother had drilled it into her mind that she could never even attempt such a thing, and Enya had promised time and time again that she never would.
“I’m nae a fool, Fiona,” said Enya with a chuckle. “I ken me limits. It would be foolish tae toy with nature like this.”
Fiona laughed, shaking her head, and though the sound was not particularly strange, there was something about it which sent a shiver down Enya’s spine. It sounded like an omen, like a warning, and a chill settled in Enya’s stomach as she tried to busy herself with her coat. Sometimes she stayed with Fiona for a while longer, keeping her company until it was time to return to the castle, but after this, she had the urge to flee.
“Indeed, ye will, lassie,” said Fiona from where she sat on one of the chairs, its legs unstable and wobbling as she leaned forward to take a better look at Enya. “Ye may think ye would never dae such a thing, but there is a man fer whom ye will risk everythin’.”
“How dae ye ken?” Enya asked, thinking that maybe at least this time, Fiona would reveal something about her abilities, but Fiona only smiled knowingly. She had hoped that maybe if Fiona avoided answering, like she had, it would have been easier to discard her warning as nonsense, but there was something about her mannerisms which told Enya she was telling the truth.
“I ken many things.”
For a few moments, the two of them looked at each other and Enya felt as though Fiona was looking straight through her, as though she was entirely transparent and all her thoughts and feelings were laid bare.
Then, Enya chuckled awkwardly in an attempt to break the tension between them. Maybe she was simply imagining things. Maybe Fiona was simply an old woman and she didn’t know what she was talking about. But even if what she was saying was true, now Enya knew; she had been warned.
And she was never going to attempt bringing someone back from the dead. She knew how her gift worked and she knew that if she risked such a thing, there was a very good chance that she, too, would end up dead.
“Ye’ll have tae choose,” Fiona said just as Enya was about to say goodbye and take her leave. “Yer life or the life o’ a man who is promised tae another.”
It was that which gave Enya pause more than anything else. She could see how she could perhaps come to a point where she would risk her life for her family—for her siblings, for her dear friend Ava, for someone who was so close to her that losing them would be unbearable. But a man who was promised to another? Why would she ever consider such a thing, let alone attempt it?
This is madness. Fiona doesnae ken what she’s sayin’.
“Why would I risk me life fer a man who is spoked for?” she asked, incredulous. “Come now, Fiona . . . dinnae try tae scare me.”
“I’m nae tryin’ tae scare ye, lass,” Fiona said and that, too, sounded so sincere that it helped Enya feel a little more at ease. Maybe it was true, then. Maybe Fiona wasn’t trying to scare her at all, but rather warn her that she was going down a dangerous path, even if she didn’t know it. “Even if he is promised tae another, yer hearts belong tae each other. Ye will love him as he will love ye.”
A strange sense of loss gripped Enya then, as though she was experiencing the heartbreak that was to come. Never before had she felt like this, as though a part of her was being torn, permanently removed and lost to time.
Was this nothing but a glimpse of what was to follow? Was she going to love this man only to watch him with another woman in her place?
It all felt so distant, but at the same time real, as though it was already happening to her. It was a jarring sensation, leaving her unmoored and uncertain of her own feelings, of what was real and what wasn’t. Who was this man? Had she already met him? If she hadn’t, how could she already feel this loss deep in her gut, like a blade plunged into her?
“Dinnae fear,” said Fiona as she pushed herself off the chair with some difficulty, hobbling over to Enya to place a hand on her shoulder. “But choose wisely.”
As Fiona guided Enya to the door, Enya stopped and turned to face her once more. “Ye said I would go . . . somewhere,” she said. “Is that what ye meant?”
For a moment, Fiona looked at her with a confused frown, head tilted to the side. Then, understanding dawned on her and she laughed, shaking her head.
“Ach, nay,” she said. “But there are travels ahead o’ ye. They will come tae pass, but what happens after is in yer hands.”
That was some relief, at least, to hear that her death wasn’t predetermined and that she could create her own fate. She didn’t know where her travels would take her, but she had the feeling they would lead to that man, and she couldn’t help but hope they wouldn’t come for a long time.
“Go now,” said Fiona as she grabbed a basket from the windowsill by the door, filled with flowers and jams and honey. She always insisted on thanking Enya like this and wouldn’t allow her to leave if she didn’t take what was offered. “I’ll see ye in a few weeks.”
“Take care, Fiona,” Enya said, a mock chiding seeping into her tone, as though she was talking to a particularly careless and rambunctious child. “An’ be careful this time.”
As she headed down the path back to the castle, Fiona’s words echoed in her mind.
Yer hearts belong tae each other. Ye will love him as he will love ye even if he is betrothed to another.
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What a tease, Shona! I can’t wait to see how Enya and her fated mystery man create their own “adventure”! Thanks for the peek!
Thank you so much, my dear! 💖 I’m delighted you enjoyed the little tease! Enya and her mystery man certainly have quite the adventure ahead—stay tuned! 📚✨