Chapter Text
“What?!” Jamie snapped, standing abruptly and towering over Ian.
I was immediately flooded with memories of the chaos of the stones, an unseeable force twisting, pulling, and pounding on every atom of my body—the mind-numbing insanity of traveling through time. No matter that decades had gone by, my body felt the horrid sensations as though it was only yesterday.
I must’ve made an alarming sound, because Jamie’s head snapped around, and he rested a comforting hand on my shoulder.
“I’m…all right,” I assured him. “I’m fine.”
Ian was looking a little too relieved at Jamie’s distraction, and was clearly wondering if he had any chance in hell of escaping if he ran quickly. Being that he stayed put, he must’ve come to the conclusion that he wouldn’t get far.
With his hand still steadying me, Jamie turned back to Ian. “Out wi’ it.”
Ian looked at me one last time, possibly hoping I might make more sounds of discomfort in the service of his reprieve. When none came, he went on. “Brianna came up wi’ the plan before we left Lallybroch. She wrote a stack of letters and gave them to Lizzy so that Lizzy could make it seem as though Bree never left Paris. Lizzy was also meant to intercept any letters la princesse might write to ye, or you to her, in the meantime.”
“Why on earth would Elizabeth agree to do that?”
Ian looked as though he might turn green at the thought of informing on his cousins.
“Ian!” demanded Jamie.
“Brianna caught her kissing the sassenach lad in the stables. She threatened to tell if Lizzie didna help.”
Jamie blurted out a stream of Gaelic curses as his grip on my shoulder tightened painfully. I squeaked in protest, and he released me, but didn’t lose his stride in describing how he meant to use the wee English bastard's entrails to make a new set of reins for his horse when he got home.
“And…” I interrupted, “what was your role in all this?”
“I delivered Brianna's forged letter from you to la princesse, then I escorted Bree to Le Havre and arranged her passage to Scotland.”
“Through where?”
“Inverness.”
“Close to the stones,” I said.
“Why?” Jamie demanded. “Why did she do this?”
Ian shrugged. “I think it best she speak for herself—”
Jamie silenced him with a lethal look.
“She wanted to see the world, Uncle. To see the future. Brianna is no’ like Faith, ye ken. She didna want to settle down and have a load of bairns wi’out knowing what was out there. She kent it was likely that yer grandchildren that came to save Faith—Jemmy and Amanda—would be her bairns, and she wanted to live a bit and see some things before she was tied to clouts and laundry and nursing and schooling and such, keeping her home forever. And honestly, I canna say I blame her. If I had yer gift, Auntie Claire, I would’ve gone wi’ her.”
“Thank God for small mercies.”
“Did she say when she planned to come back?” asked Jamie.
Ian shrugged. “Hard to say. If things went poorly, she meant to come back right away. If they went well, she thought she’d stay and enjoy it for a while.”
“I dreamt of her at Lallybroch,” said Jamie. “Do ye ken if she planned to go there?”
“Aye. She hoped if Lallybroch was still in the family, that they might ken about the stones as such and take her in.”
“Oh, dear God,” I groaned, knowing the future was not the place to go raving about magical stones. The girl would end up in an asylum. “I have to go get her, Jamie. I have to—”
“No!” Jamie snapped. “Ye’ll be staying put. With all that’s happened wi’ Colin, she’s probably safer there than here, and we must track down Willie and find the bastards who’ve done this.”
“What’s happened to Colin?” asked Ian.
“He’s dead, lad.” Jamie’s tone was sharp. “Murdered. All while ye were helping my daughter run wild through Paris, Scotland, and the bloody future!”
“I’m sorry, Uncle Jamie. I didna ken—”
“No, laddie, ye never do! Not since ye were a wean and ye stowed away on that bloody boat and ended up back in my custody. Ye dinna think things through!”
Ian’s long, lanky frame was collapsing in on itself under Jamie’s scolding.
“We expected to come here and see ye committed to yer studies and Brianna training wi’ the masters, and instead, we find our daughter magically gone and you lifeless on opium after a days’ long stay in a brothel! What if the murderer found ye there? There was naught ye could’ve done to protect yerself!”
“I didna ken about the opium, Uncle! It was the whore that did it.”
“Why would a whore force opium on you if that’s not what you paid for?” I asked.
“To get the lad to give over all his winnings,” Jamie snapped.
Ian snorted. “I have them all right here.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a very full coin purse. “I had to pay the madam a wee bit, but the only thing the whore cared to have was my ring.”
Ian looked down at his hand where his ruby ring once resided. His finger was notably bare.
When Jamie spoke, his voice was low and dangerous. “Ye gave away the gemstone that ye were meant to wear in the event one yer cousins were in need of it?”
“She thought it bonnie, Uncle,” Ian tried to explain. “And I have enough winnings to replace it. She was insistent she take the gem.”
“Why?” I stood up, gripping Jamie’s arm. “Why would a whore turn down perfectly good coin and demand a gemstone instead? Why would she drug our nephew without telling him?”
Jamie’s eyes widened as my suspicions sunk in. His head snapped around back to Ian. “Tell us about the whore, lad.”
“Weel, she had fair hair and lovely green eyes. She was a bit aulder than what I would’ve usually chosen, but she was quite insistent.” Ian’s eyes lit up at the memory.
“Was there anything else about her ye found unusual?”
“As I said, she liked the incense and teas and such. And she liked to hear me talk. She asked all manner of questions about me, and my life, and my home. About Scotland and Lallybroch. About the family.”
Jamie and I turned to each other, mouths dropping open and fear surging into our hearts.
“What did ye tell her about the family?”
“It’s hard to recall.” He rubbed his eyes. “Everything feels a bit cloudy.”
“Try!”
“I think she was curious about all the children ye’ve taken in, which ones were yers to begin with, and which ones ye adopted as yer own. And she wanted to ken where everyone is now, seeing as how we’re all spread out.”
“Did ye tell her about Brianna and Willie? Did ye tell her where they are?”
Ian cringed back at Jamie’s tone. “I dinna recall, Uncle. I dinna believe so! Certainly not the truth about Brianna, and Willie…I dinna ken. Perhaps I may have said he was in London.”
“The whore. What was her name?”
“Melisande. Why? Ye canna think she meant me or the family any harm? She could’ve done damage to me if she wanted to while I was asleep.”
“No’ if it wasna you she was after, and no’ if she didna want to be caught and arrested, ye wee fool!” Jamie turned swiftly and left to our room. I instructed Ian to stay put and followed after Jamie.
I found him belting on his sporran and retrieving his coat. “You’re going to find this Melisande?”
“Aye. Though I doubt she’s still there.”
“Unless she was just a whore.”
Jamie looked at me, unimpressed. I shrugged, knowing it was a fool’s hope.
“I should ha’ listened to ye, a nighean,” Jamie grumbled grudgingly. “Ian wasna ready to be on his own.”
“Neither was Brianna, apparently. The truth of the matter is that the children are growing up and are making their own choices now. All we can try to do is mitigate the damage of their foolishness.”
“Mmphm.” Jamie kissed me on my cheek and spoke over his shoulder as he made his way out the door. “Dinna let him out of yer sight!”
I went back to find Ian with his head in his hands and tears falling down his cheeks. I sat next to him with a comforting hand on his back. He really was too bloody young to be considered a man, regardless of this century’s stance on the matter. I was pleased Jamie was finally able to admit that. Perhaps I’d have more luck with keeping Willie home a few extra years before he got sent away to receive his education.
“I’m sae sorry, Auntie. I didna mean to put anyone in danger.”
“I know you didn’t.” Though I didn’t tell him it was “okay.” He knew better. “We don’t make rules or have expectations for you children because we’re being miserable or controlling. They truly are for your own good.”
“I ken, Auntie. I ken. I just…I just ken what it's like to want to do something so badly, that consequences be damned, so I had sympathy for Brianna.” He looked up at me, eyes red and swollen. “Tell me about Colin. What happened? How’s Faith? And the bairns?”
I sighed heavily before telling him all we knew.
“So, right now, someone may be after Willie?”
I nodded.
“And I might’ve helped lead them there?”
“London is an awfully big place,” I attempted to console him, “and he’s well cared for.”
“Ye sent a message to warn them of the danger?”
“We sent it before we left Lallybroch. As soon as Jamie gets back, we’ll be leaving for London to retrieve him.” I stood up, pulling Ian to his feet. “Come, darling. You’d better get packing. We mustn’t dawdle.”
Ian nodded, seeming to find heart in having something to do while we awaited Jamie’s return.
I, on the other hand, had nothing to fill my time. Impatience began getting the better of me as mere minutes passed by. We’d brought little, so I had nothing to pack. There was always something to be done when I was at home and near my garden or surgery, but there was nothing here to keep my hands and thoughts busy.
Idle hands never allowed for a peaceful mind.
There was no way in hell I’d be able to sit still and wait for however long it might take for Jamie to return. Yet, there was something I could do in the meantime to make myself useful. Something that had been weighing heavily on my mind since we arrived home the night before.
I went quickly to find Jared in his study and exacted a promise from him to keep Ian in the house while Jamie and I were gone. Then, I finished dressing, borrowed one of Jared’s carriages, and made a hasty exit to ensure I returned home before Jamie ever even knew I’d left.
Jamie would likely be furious at me for leaving the house without him, but as soon as he obtained any possible information from that whore, then we’d be leaving for London. That meant that this was the only possible time I had to find answers to my other less pressing but equally significant questions—questions I feared would go unanswered for the rest of our lives if I didn’t act quickly.
Jared didn’t live far from Master Raymond’s apothecary. Thankfully, it was much closer to his house than the brothel. I didn’t wait for the carriage to stop to open the door. I nearly fell over when I stepped down and the horses jolted to an abrupt halt. I rushed forward through the passing foot traffic and entered the dark, familiar shop.
Except it was no longer familiar. The shelves were nearly bare, save for items here and there that seemed to be abandoned. There was no fire in the hearth, no candles on the countertops, no people anywhere to be found. I snaked my way through the dark to the hidden back room and found it in a similar condition as the front.
“No!” He was already gone…and with him were all the answers he carried.
Never would I convince Jamie to get on a ship to cross the Atlantic to find that man in New York, and there was no way in hell Jamie would let me go without him. A deep, sinking regret filled my heart that we might never know the truth of how Raymond came into possession of that letter and journal, nor would we ever know why it even mattered to him.
It was quite terrifying to know that a near stranger knew of our family’s ability to travel through time. I was very aware of how women were treated in this century if they were perceived to be in some way magical. Just one look at that journal I wrote in a previous lifetime showed that Geillis MacKenzie, apparently once known as both Gillian Edgars and Geillis Duncan, had faced ultimate consequences for being a time-traveling witch. She seemed to have found a way to avoid that fate in this lifetime, though I wasn’t sure her current fate was any better.
Resigned to the loss of information that Raymond held about our family, I returned back to the carriage and set off for home, all the while contemplating ways that we might somehow locate the man and find our answers. Perhaps Murtagh or one of the Murrays over in North Carolina might see fit to travel to New York for us, though Jamie would have to come up with some sort of cypher to communicate secret information in letters overseas.
I arrived back at Jared’s with plenty of time to spare Jamie any worry. In fact, Jamie took several hours longer to return than I had expected.
“She’s gone,” said Jamie upon his arrival. “I went to the brothel and she wasna there. I spent a good deal of time searching around other brothels and hunting down some of her regulars to see if I could gather information, but no one kent anything of significance.”
“Do you think Colin’s attackers put her up to this?”
Jamie shrugged as frustrated as I was.
“I suppose we need to get going back to London, then? We shouldn’t waste any more time.”
“Aye, except…I was thinking, Sassenach.” He looked at me meaningfully. “I thought perhaps we could ask Jared to go to London in our stead. If Willie is there, Jared can ensure his safe return to Lallybroch. Ye ken he’ll be well protected.”
“What?! You can’t possibly think I’m leaving my son to—”
He interrupted by making his voice somehow both loud and calming. “I think we should go to Aberdeen.”
“Aberdeen? Oh!” I gripped his arm to steady myself. “You do think it’s time, then? You think they left London?”
“I dinna ken. But if it’s not, then no harm will be done.”
“But if it is time and we do go to Aberdeen…”
“Aye. Then there’s a chance we can help him, protect him. The more I think about it, the more right it feels.”
As afraid as I was that we might miss him in London, we knew that Aberdeen was where he’d ultimately be attacked.
I nodded in agreement. “When do we leave?”
We set off immediately for Le Havre, arriving after nightfall. Jared couldn’t find us boats that would transport us from France to both England and Scotland until the morning, so we were forced to stay at a small inn before making the passage.
Jamie refused to eat any meals that night or the next morning, preferring only to hydrate in anticipation of our journey to Aberdeen. By the green pallor of his face, the mere thought of getting on a boat was triggering his seasickness.
Jared, Ian, and I, on the other hand, ate a hearty breakfast before setting off, knowing the fare on boats to be quite questionable, and all of us lamenting the impending loss of fresh French food.
Jamie’s simultaneous hunger and queasiness made for an irritable travel companion, snapping and barking at anyone who came too close. Ian made himself scarce when we boarded the boat, wanting to distance himself from Jamie’s temper while his punishment was still as of yet undecided. I was forced to remain by Jamie’s side to ensure he didn’t throw himself overboard during a fit of melodramatics.
Perhaps I was having sympathy kinetosis, because I soon found myself feeling a bit dizzy and nauseous after sailing away from the harbor.
“Ye’re looking a bit green yerself, Sassenach. I’ve never kent seasickness to be catching.”
“It’s not.”
“Are ye certain? Because ye look as though ye might—” Jamie cut himself off with gulp and loud hiss, as though desperately attempting to fight back his nausea.
Watching him so close to vomiting rolled my stomach and made me audibly gag. I covered my mouth with my hand, as though it might stop my stomach from expelling my breakfast. That, in turn, made Jamie turn a colorless shade of grey, and he bent over the rail and found something in the depths of his belly to spew into the water.
“Oh, God,” I groaned and followed suit, except I had a greater supply of food in my stomach to feed the marine wildlife below.
“We’re quite a pair,” Jamie snorted as he sank to the deck, holding his head in his hands.
I did my best to expel the stringy, acidic spittle hanging from my mouth before dropping down to the deck beside him. We leaned against each other, trying to catch our breath, but the fishy griminess of the air only made us gag further.
“Stop kecking like that, Sassenach. Once you set off, I canna help but follow.”
“Like vomiting dominos.”
“The wee game wi’ the dotted tiles?”
“Never mind.” I didn’t have the energy to explain.
“Are ye sure ye’re all right? Have ye ever been sick like this on a boat before?”
“Only once.” I gripped Jamie’s arm as a large wave tipped the boat uncomfortably. “It was when Murtagh and I came to France to see you all those years ago. I was pregnant with Faith.”
Jamie’s head snapped up in shock, but the quick movement set off his sickness once again. He stood up and dry-heaved over the rail, having nothing left to spit up after not eating for nearly a whole day. I was not so fortunate. I stood and retched right next to him, the contents of my stomach splashing in the water below. The sound only made Jamie dry-heave all over again.
“Maybe I should move to the other side of the boat,” I offered reluctantly. “I don’t think we’re helping each other to stop vomiting.”
“Mmphm.” Jamie pulled me against him as we sank back to the deck, letting me know he’d rather vomit with me than find a reprieve on his own. He stroked his hand up and down my arm, trying to comfort me even when he was so uncomfortable. “D’ye think ye might be wi’ child, Claire?”
“Oh…no. No. I should think not.” It would be very unlikely at my age to become pregnant even when actively trying. We were most certainly not actively trying. In fact, ever since William was born, I had been taking active measures to prevent pregnancy. Our hands were quite full enough without adding to the brood.
Jamie had also been increasingly distressed with each of my pregnancies, particularly with our close call when having Faith, me giving birth in the wilderness to Brianna, and us losing little Robert when he was born too soon. Anytime I was with child, Jamie was tightly wound from conception to birth, only relaxing when both myself and our children were safe and happy in his arms.
“Perhaps I ate something funny at the inn,” I offered. Although, that seemed quite unlikely, given that Ian ate everything I did and seemed to be doing just fine. He was over on the other side of the boat, talking animatedly to the captain.
Jamie relaxed at my reassurances and kissed the top of my head. “We’ve done a great many things together since we wed, but this is a first.”
It was true. Only one of us was usually sick at a time, allowing for the other to hold back the infirm’s hair so as not to be covered in vomit.
I expected my nausea to abate the closer we came to our destination, but it seemed to be quite as stubborn as Jamie’s notorious seasickness, if not worse. It became so debilitating that when we made it to Aberdeen, I began to question if what I was experiencing was even seasickness, at all. As Jamie grew steadier the longer his feet were on solid ground, I became dizzier, weaker, and more lethargic.
If I didn’t recover by morning, there was no possible way I could ride a horse across the countryside to find Willie without slowing Jamie down and putting everyone at risk.
Since it was nearly dark and the moonlight would be hidden behind a thick layer of clouds and rain, further travel wasn’t an option until morning. We found a small inn to recuperate overnight. Within a few hours, Jamie’s stomach was settled enough to hold a spot of tea and a piece of bread, but if anything aside from a moan touched my lips, my small intestines rebelled against the intrusion and tied themselves in knots until all food and drink were once again far, far away.
Ian slept on a pallet on the floor while Jamie and I took the bed. Sleep came easy for all of us, exhausted as we were, but particularly for me with my lethargy. The only time I woke up was when my gut began to clench painfully and I had to rise up to retch into the bedpan next to me.
Every time this occurred, Jamie pulled my hair away from my face and rubbed my back sleepily. I’d collapse back on the bed, and he’d wrap me in his arms, hand stroking my belly as though not fully convinced I wasn’t carrying another of his children.
However, I knew it wasn’t pregnancy-induced nausea. Whenever I had morning sickness with a child, I usually felt much better after vomiting. Now, I only seemed to be feeling worse.
“I think I’ve caught some sort of bug. You’ll have to go on without me,” I said, fighting another wave of nausea at the thought of not being there for Willie. In truth, I was fearful that whatever I had was contagious, and Jamie might be in my position in a few days’ time. He needed to find Willie quickly, then get his arse back here so I could tend to him when I felt better.
“Aye,” Jamie agreed, sighing into my hair. He was clearly loath to part from me, but little else could be done. “I shouldna be gone long. It’s only about half a day’s ride.”
“So, you’ll get there by noon, then return by sundown?”
“If all goes well. Aye.”
I ignored the twisting of my gut at the thought of things not going well.
“I’ll have young Ian stay and care for ye while I’m gone. He can brew yer teas and force some bread into yer belly.”
I nearly gagged at the mere thought of a bite of bread.
Jamie pulled me tight against him, his scruffy beard scratching the back of my neck pleasantly as he whispered calm, gentle words to help me find sleep. All things considered, it was a pleasant way to drift in and out of consciousness.
He woke me with a gentle kiss in the morning to let me know he was leaving.
“Hurry back, soldier,” I croaked out miserably. I felt his hand reach under my pillow, likely leaving a knife there for me, just in case. He’d been leaving weapons for me in my sleep whenever he had to leave for as long as I could remember. Always prepared, my husband.
“With luck, I’ll be back by nightfall.” He kissed my temple, and I drifted off to sleep once again.
It wasn’t until noon that my stomach settled enough to hold down a small cup of ginger tea, and a few hours more before I was able to force down a bite of bread. Ian had done his best to be an attentive caretaker for most of the day, but as expected for a lad suffering from a chronically restless spirit, as the hours passed by, so did his patience.
After bringing me a small dinner of milk and bread, he began pacing around the room, peering out the window at the goings-on in the darkening street below. Perhaps he’d been doing that all day, but I was so tired and groggy, I hardly noticed it. At present, the constant movement was making me motion sick all over again.
“Ian, darling, why don’t you go enjoy a meal downstairs.”
“I canna leave ye, Auntie. Uncle Jamie said…”
“You need to eat.”
“Aye, but…”
I could see his fear of disappointing Jamie once again clear on his face, warring with his constantly ravenous appetite and his need for external stimulation.
“Get a bite to eat, and bring me back a loaf of bread.”
“As you wish, Auntie.” Going down in my service seemed to set his conflict at ease. He left quickly, pleased to have somewhere to release his abundance of energy.
After he was gone, I forced myself to stand up, as shaky as I was, to use the chamber pot. I was pleased to be able to move around without instantly vomiting.
I shuffled over to the window and cracked it open, craving fresh air in the warm, smoky room. The clouds had cleared throughout the day, and moonlight lit the cobblestone streets below.
It was getting late, and Jamie and Willie had yet to return. My nerves gripped my intestines painfully as I searched for a sign of my husband and son.
I would’ve stayed there all evening if I didn’t think it would make me vomit from sheer anxiety. Instead, I moved to my medicine box and found some mint leaves to chew on, then went back to lie down in bed.
I laid there quietly, telling myself over and over that Willie and Jamie would be safe and fine, and we’d all live happily together for many years to come. The mint leaves in my mouth and the affirmations in my head seemed to help settle some of the acid in my stomach.
I kept my heavy eyelids closed when the door opened again, fearful of Ian’s restless energy setting off the illness once more. I hadn’t expected him to return so soon, and I tried not to be disappointed at his diligent care for me.
His footsteps fell soft and quiet across the floor as he pulled a chair up next to my bed. I sighed deeply at the sweetness of his attention.
But the scent that reached my nose was not the stew, sweat, or ale I expected from my nephew, but one of sour herbs and deep, red wine. My eyes fluttered open and I saw not Ian, but a woman, sitting before me, pulling a stopper out of a small, glass vial. Her hair was fair, and her eyes were green…a set of eyes impossible to forget, even nearly two decades later.
“Geillis MacKenzie,” I whispered.
She smiled in her cloying way as her eyes met mine, she leaned forward, her face only a foot away, making me intentionally uncomfortable. “Ye remember me then, Mistress Fraser? We only met a few times; I thought for certain ye’d have forgotten me.”
There was little I could do in my current position to protect myself. “I thought you were dead…or in prison.”
“Indentured in America,” her eyes and face went stone cold. “For fifteen years.” Wild rage swirled beneath a thin veil of self-control, sending shivers down my spine. My body finally didn’t seem to care about vomiting anymore.
“It was you!” I tried sitting up, but a knife went to my throat. “You killed Colin! You’ve been after my family! You blame us for your indenture.”
She smiled sickly sweet again. “Ye think I care about a silly, little indenture? What’s fifteen years for a worthy cause? Nothing. No, Claire. I dinna care about the indenture. I care about yer husband murdering Dougal and sabotaging any chance we had at winning that war!”
I startled at the sudden angry rise of her voice.
“Now,” she sat back and calmed herself down, holding up the vial in her other hand, “I will take from yer husband exactly what it was he stole from me. My spouse. My family. And my reason for fucking living!”
She pressed the knife to my throat and raised the vial to my lips. “Open yer mouth, ye selfish, traitorous sassenach, so I can finish the job I started in Le Havre.”
“Le Havre?”
Geillis looked at me with wide eyes and snorted. “Ye didna realize ye were poisoned? Now, I ken ye’re a decent healer, so I’ll chock it up to distraction. I followed you and yer husband from Paris to Le Havre, then hid away on the ship here to Aberdeen in order to ensure that yer treasonous husband could witness the life leave yer body, the way I had to watch him to do the same to Dougal.”
“Paris? You were in Paris?”
Her filthy, arrogant smile had me recalling words young Ian had said in describing the whore who drugged him. “...she had fair hair and lovely green eyes. She was a bit aulder than I would’ve normally chosen, but she was quite insistent….she liked the incense and teas and such. And she liked to hear me talk. She asked all manner of questions about me, and my life, and my home. About Scotland and Lallybroch. About the family.”
“Wait!” I grabbed her arm, nearly spilling the vial. She shoved the knife into my neck stopping me in my tracks. “You’ve been in Paris preying on Ian long before we arrived.”
She laughed as I began putting the pieces together.
“And Faith said it was a man who attacked her…”
“Aye, Claire. I wasna the only one yer husband took everything from that night.”
“Who?! Who, damn you?!”
By the narcissistic pride in her eyes, I knew the truth before she said a word.
“I kent what ye were when ye used the penicillin on our prisoner back at Leoch. Dougal said yer husband had found ye there by the standing stones. Ye’re just like me.”
“You’re from the future too.” It wasn’t a question. I already knew from the journal.
“Aye. And just as yer bairns can travel through the stones like you…so can mine.”
“Little Buck?”
Gellis’s eyes flared bright. “So, there’s nowhere yer family can run and hide from us, Claire. Not the past. Not the present. And certainly not the future.”
I choked at the thought of Willie traveling through time on his own, running from a man who could follow him anywhere…or any time.
“Now, open yer mouth, and we’ll make yer death clean. We’d hate to get blood all over the sheets—”
The door opened with the unbothered carelessness of a teenager. Geillis snapped her head around to see who it was.
“Melisande?” said Ian in shock.
In Geillis’s distraction, I reached under my pillow and grabbed the knife Jamie had left behind for me, then swung it around with the inhuman might of a frightened mother. I sliced open her throat, blood spilling from her neck all over me and the bed.
Ian rushed forward and pulled her body away, letting her bleed out onto the floor.
“Are ye all right, Auntie Claire. Did she harm ye?”
“I’m fine.” I sat up, overcome by dizziness. I tried to steady myself with my head in my hands. “We must go. We have to get to Willie!”
“But Uncle Jamie—”
“I don’t think Willie is in Aberdeen.” I looked up grasping at my neck for the citrine gem Jamie had given me years ago. “You’ve got to help me get to Craigh na Dun!”