The Betrayal - By Ruth Langan Page 0,4

a length of dripping plaid. In his hand was a sword with a jeweled hilt that caught and reflected the sunlight. His other hand gripped the reins of a horse that followed slowly behind him.

Both man and beast appeared exhausted and were breathing heavily.

For a moment neither the man nor Kylia spoke a word, but merely stared at each other with matching looks of surprise.

When he stepped closer, Kylia found her voice. “The fact that you were able to slay our guardian means that your strength is great, indeed, for Gram says it takes superior powers to overcome the dragon.”

When he continued staring at her in silence, she felt the heat rush to her cheeks. “Forgive me. My first words to you should have been in greeting. Welcome to the Mystical Kingdom. My name is Kylia. My family is of the clan Drummond. And though your name is not known to me, your face is. For I’ve seen it here in the loch since I was but a child.”

Grant was incredulous. The woman facing him was no witch. Here was a goddess. Skin as pale as milk. Hair as blue-black and shiny as the wings of a raven, twisted into one fat braid that fell to her waist. Such a tiny waist, tied with a ribbon into which she’d tucked a sprig of heather that matched the color of her eyes.

Her words of greeting made no sense to him. “You’ve seen me?”

“Aye.” She spread her hands to indicate the water that was now as crystal clear and dazzling as diamonds. “Here.” She looked up and her smile rivaled the sun. “I always knew one day you would come.”

“You knew…?” He felt an odd buzzing in his head, and wondered why her voice was fading.

Her smile vanished. “Forgive my babbling. You’re wounded.”

“Am I?” He glanced idly at the blood that streamed from his throbbing arm, and started to reach for it to stem the flow of blood. Before he could move, he felt his legs fail him.

Spots danced in front of his eyes. The buzzing increased in volume until it seemed a hive of hornets had taken over his brain.

Without a word he dropped to the sand just as the sunlight disappeared from his view and he was engulfed in a tunnel of darkness.

Chapter Two

Grant lay very still, absorbing so many strange sounds and smells. Soft, muted voices. Laughter trilling as gently as music. The sweet perfume of heather, and the mouthwatering scent of meat and herbs roasting over a fire.

He lay, eyes closed, waiting for the pain he knew would come. He shifted slightly on a pallet as soft as down. In the absence of pain he touched a hand to his arm. There wasn’t so much as a twinge. Nor could he feel blood or dressing or scar. His eyes snapped open and he looked around.

“So, you’ve finally decided to come back to us.”

With a rustle of skirts the goddess knelt beside him.

He felt the jolt of recognition. “I remember you. You were on shore when I stepped from the loch. I don’t recall much after that.”

Her laughter rang as clear as a bell. “That’s not surprising since you fell to the sand. I couldn’t rouse you, so I called for my family to help.”

“Where am I?”

“In our cottage.” She blushed. “In my bed. You’ve been asleep for three days.”

“Three days?”

“And three nights.” Full, perfect lips parted in a smile. “But Gram said we weren’t to worry, for your body craved the healing power of sleep.”

“Gram?”

“I live here in the Mystical Kingdom with my mother, my grandmother, and my younger sister, as well as some friends. Jeremy, a troll, and Bessie, who is like a dear old aunt. I have an older sister, as well, but she left home to be with her new husband.”

He struggled to keep up. “And your name is…Kylia?”

“You remember.”

How could he forget? Never in his life had he seen such a perfect creature. “My arm…” He lifted it from the fur covering and was startled into silence. Had he only dreamed the attack by the dragon’s vicious claws?

She gave another soft laugh that did strange things to his heart. “It took a great deal of chanting and conjuring to heal it. My older sister, Allegra, is the finest healer among us. But now that she’s gone, we must make do with our meager gifts.”

“You…” He swallowed. “You chanted away my wound?”

“It was still fresh enough that we could manage it. We had to use