'Rowan' Lady of the Mountain: Celtic Cup of Truth

By Denise Flora

Rowan, the third and magical child born to the Murray Clan, embraces her duties as a Druid and the protector of all living things. Bound to the Highlands forever, she discovers she is drawn to, and instantly captivated by a man who stirs an unknown passion within her when her eyes fall upon him swimming in the turquoise pool beneath the dragon's cave, unaware that this man is destined to fulfill the prophecy that was written in the ancient tomes of old. Will he awaken what lies beneath her innocence and lay claim to her heart with his undeniable charm, or will the prophecy forever remain unfulfilled?

Nial Drummond, a young wizard, raised in the enchanted mountains and the Castle Chegnuat, is drawn to the Murray lands and the legendary wizard Alzar by a desire to complete his calling and perfect his skills.

Enchanted by tales of a warrior woman living in the majestic mountains and valleys of the Highlands, he embarks on a journey to not just fulfill his destiny as a wizard, but to find the woman of whom he has heard tales and envisioned in his dreams for so many years, a woman with violet eyes.

With the aid of Alzar's magic, and strength of will to bring about his own heir, the two will meet, and become caught in a maelstrom of events that will either bond them together forever, or create an irrefutable obstacle that tears them apart.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 8, 2013
• ISBN: 9781479780792

Denise Flora

I have lived a life of dreams, of looking over the horizon and imagining what lies beyond, always hopeful, always willing to take that first step into the next adventure. Born and raised in a quaint rural town outside of the windy city in Illinois, I was transplanted to California, where I have made my home for the last several decades. My love of writing romance mirrors the traditional and seasonal charm I still miss and crave. Scotland, the setting for this series, is a place I have always wanted to go and been fascinated with, due to its fascinating Celtic lore, ancient castles and magical legends. I look forward to putting on paper more what lies in wait in my imagination… I would love to hear from you. Pleas contact me at www.deniseflora.com.

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Contents

Acknowledgments

Prologue

Chapter One

The Power Of Destiny

Chapter Two

Destiny's Daughter

Chapter Three

A Safe Haven

Chapter Four

A Danger Lurks

Chapter Five

A Fools Plan

Chapter Six

As Foretold

Chapter Seven

Intrusion on Paradise

Chapter Eight

A Joining of Power

Chapter Nine

The Punishment

Chapter Ten

A Blessed Fate

Chapter Eleven

An Unexpected Discovery

Chapter Twelve

Glorious Banishment

Chapter Thirteen

A New Danger Beckons

Chapter Fourteen

Alzar's Chosen

Chapter Fifteen

The Unthinkable

Chapter Sixteen

The Divine Exile

Chapter Seventeen

The Lingering Danger

Chapter Eighteen

The Payment for Mercy

Chapter Nineteen

The Prophecy Emerges

Chapter Twenty

All Hallows Eve

Epilogue

The End

Acknowledgments

I would like to thank my family and friends for all their encouragement and support in this endeavor. I am forever grateful to my husband, John, for his endless patience, expertise, loving guidance throughout the entire process, and painstaking effort in the editing of this book. His faithful heart serves as a catalyst in creating my heroic Highlanders. And as in the first book of this series, I wish to thank my wonderful mother, Marylee, who not only listens to me willingly each night as I read her my work over the telephone, but also offers me constructive guidance. She is not only my dearest friend and confidant, but also a willing, creative, and patient advisor.

Again, I wish to thank Elizabeth for her expert photography. She has my heartfelt praise for the gift of my author photo. And my gracious thanks to the two talented women with whom I have had the pleasure of knowing and sharing my life for many years, Becky and Shawna. The combination of their singular efforts in initially offering advice in the editing of this manuscript was most welcome, with wonderful guidance.

I believe writing, no matter what form it takes, offers us all the ability to capture and worship what we hold within our memory. I believe that there is no greater feeling than the revisiting of a precious thought, touch, taste, vision or dream. It is there, at that one moment, where we are limitless.

I dedicate this book to ‘Shelby.’ I never imagined how far my heart could overflow until the day you were born. You are my model and inspiration for all the children within these books. Someday, when you are old enough to read them, you will find little details, descriptive words and some of the treasured memories you have given me of yourself within these pages.

Prologue

C lan members from all over Scotland went in search of other Scots, renegade Irish and English, to join in the new militia, quickly becoming a united European army to defend a rapidly fading way of life, and a cause better served in absence for most, a grand and yet faithful cause, but one that would ultimately only bring death, with no promise of change. It was a time of great unrest across most of the newly rebuilt country, country not long ago blackened by fire wielding raiders sent by the crown, or by mercenaries bought by those craving seats of power. Presbyterian England ruled in partnership over Scotland, upsetting the Scottish royals and their movement towards becoming a country. England’s King Charles II, who had reigned for the last twenty years, sat upon the throne, ruling from afar. He was considered a crass, hedonistic and fretful king, one who took what he pleased, paying no heed to the losses of those from whom he stole. He professed indignantly to be true to his word, whatever word he chose to live by at the time. And like the waves of the ocean, the people of Scotland seemed to follow the patterns set down before them from generations past, one ceaseless wave after another.

It was the final quarter of the sixteenth-century. Fading with the years, as well, was the need for battles between clans for lands and prizes of war, only now to be replaced by ongoing feuds between rulers and countries. One large holding of land remained faithful to its own crest and tartan, taking up no sword against another, a clan and a place left untouched within this twenty-year span by wars still waged elsewhere. Here was a place seemingly surrounded by an invisible veil of protection, where magic still reigned and mythical creatures still lived, and where the doors of time were opened and the mighty stone circles stood. One family, the Murray clan, ruled this land, a land with the promise of an even brighter future and a secret well kept. Once threatened by England’s monarchy and bordering butchers, the Murrays now held a new magic, a magic born to them—a daughter. And with her arrival, came a prophecy, that once fulfilled, would one day recreate a generation of lost souls who would protect and transform their land forever, eternally keeping alive the mystical magic it had held from the beginning of time.

Chapter One

The Power Of Destiny

H igh on a mountaintop, almost touching the clouds above the lush valleys below stood a fortress of stone overlooking the borders of the Murray lands. Built by the Laird of the Murray clan and his people with painstaking effort, taking three long years to complete, with nothing left to chance, the fortress finally held its only reason for existence—Rowan.

It was a regal, yet earthy dwelling made from granite and marble stones, embedded with the carved swirling knots that depicted the ancient Celtic lore of old, and the symbolism of the ancient Druids, standing three stories high, with a balcony and widow’s walk running the whole of the perimeter for viewing in all directions. Rowan’s mother, aunt and grandmothers, with their talents in embroidery, all had a hand in the furnishings and adornments. Every glance held a hand-stitched memory waiting to be recalled. The gossamer silk curtains at the windows and the linens on the beds boasted her favorite designs on their borders, scenes of the abundant flora and fauna native to the area, and each window was a likeness of one of her precious animals or plants that she was bound to protect, all crafted in colorful stained glass.

The ample kitchen area held an oversized table made from the palest birch wood. This was her space for the mixing of potions and the preparing of her favorite meals. Along the walls stood long cupboards containing a diverse array of dried herbs and macerated oils, scented with the various blossoms from the abundant flowering trees and bushes native to the highlands.

Next to the kitchen was an open expanse, her great room she called it, as it reminded her of her family’s great hall at the Castle Glencove. The oversized room was graced with a large stone hearth and six wide chairs, placed in the shape of the crescent moon, surrounding the hearth for gatherings and warmth on cold winter nights. Behind those chairs, towering high toward the ceiling were permanently affixed bookshelves, extending the length of the wall and filled with tomes on Druid spells, nature, and the flora and fauna within her given area of protection.

Just to the side of the great room, a staircase spiraled up like a hollowed out tree, consisting of long twisted branches for railings, and sturdy steps made of polished oak planks. On the second floor were two rooms, her bedchamber and bathing chamber, a space that was a reflection of a fairy tale. There, all of the vivid colors of nature could be found in every corner, on every wall, and in everything that filled it. From the deepest purples and blues, to the palest lavender and creamy white pearl were the colors of the wall hangings, sheer curtains, and cloth coverings of billowy softness on her bed. The northern facing stained glass window held the image of her closest friend Lily, a white owl, so named because she was as creamy white as the Calla Lilies that grew wild throughout the Highlands. But Lily was no ordinary owl. Rowan had trained her over the last three years to be her sight when any visitor or foe approached her home. At night, the wise bird lived in a small house Rowan had carved out of a thick branch from the forty-foot birch tree that held it, and where it continued to grow just to the side of her bedroom window.

The third story was an open-air section of rooms divided only by pillars. To one side was an area for her artwork, where she painted, carved, and created many diverse objects, some ornamental and others used for her magic. On the opposite side, she meditated each morning, communing with the natural world and absorbing all of the messages and energy needed for each of the day’s duties. At the very center was where her rituals with the moon and the stars commenced by night, where she did her dances and invocations. The whole of the top story was covered with a clear glass dome, filled with randomly placed inset crystals. The dome kept out the changing weather, yet allowed a clear view of all else for many miles around. On the days when the sun shone brilliantly, the floor came to life with a bold display of primary color reflecting through the crystals above.

This was her home. She had lived here alone for the past three years, fulfilling her duties as a Druid warrior. It was still close enough to her family’s castle below the mountain where she was born and raised with her three siblings, Grace, Liam, and Tristin, yet far enough away to perform the duty born to her. She visited them all as often as she could and was tightly bonded to each one, never tiring of their many shared interests.

She was born at the seventh hour of the morning, on the fifty-second day of the year, brought forth into the mortal world by the wizard Alzar and guided by the old ones, the Druids, who were the protectors of these mountains and valleys from long ago. She was named Rowan, meaning The Lady of the Mountain. Her birth was foretold and protected, as she was to be the instrument for the birth of the most powerful female Druid and wizard ever born. It was her blessing and her calling to be the protector of all living things. She was reared in a household brimming with her parent’s deep, devoted love for their children, and was guided, prepared and trained by Alzar, the Wizard of Glencove, and the guardian of all the Highland clans.

Alzar lived in an elaborate cave just across the mountains peak from where Rowan’s unusual little fortress stood. Nearby was the plateau that held the Druid’s cave, a place where the old ones once lived and studied, and where she herself followed suit with Alzar many times during her young years of training. He not only delivered her the day of her birth, but he tutored her, and was always there with her in his mind’s eye to provide guidance and continuing learning, as well as discovery as time passed. His task was far from over. He still had to make certain she found her mate and bore a daughter, a magical child who would one day replace him and take over his position and tasks as guardian to all of the clans. His realm was large, cast far and wide, encompassing most all of the Highland borders. These past three years and farther into a future than she herself had yet to imagine, Rowan shared his duties and his mountains with him. He was an integral part of her family and she loved him as she did all of them.

She lived here in reverence and peace, always searching for new species of plants or another cure for the illnesses that occasionally plagued her people. She fulfilled her duties and her days with endless quests and journeys through the majestic forests, mountains and valleys surrounded by the calm waters of the lochs, streams, and pools. Rowan was now nearing the end of her third year as Protector to the Clans, and had become well versed and highly skilled in the ways of the Druid warrior.

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Many leagues to the North, in the far reaches of the Highlands, surrounded by a circle of high mountain peaks, a young man of twenty-two summers was hard at work practicing, building and honing his skills in wizardry. His given name was Nial Drummond, The Champion of the Clouds. He was born to Lord Callum and Lady Marise Drummond of the Castle Abred Ceugant. They named their castle after the Celtic words meaning, where inner and outer worlds meet, and the realm of infinities. Nial was their only true born son.

He was a striking young warrior, bearing an olive complexion, shoulder length deep golden-brown hair, and eyes of mossy green, changing hues to tourmaline or turquoise when reflecting another like color. Standing at six feet three inches of sturdy, sinewy muscle, he was marked from birth with the image of a Celtic knot depicting the heads of swans and intertwining with the image of an eagle. The mark told its story beginning at his left shoulder, curving down his left side and abdomen to the front of his groin, and disappearing in the dense, dark fluff that surrounded his masculine pride.

He was quite an unexpected surprise to his parents, not only at birth with his strange markings, (covering what seemed one-half of his body), but when he began displaying his magical powers as a very young lad of two. He had fashioned his own first wizard’s wand from the wood of a Rowan tree, infusing it with his innate power of magic, knowingly and acutely aware of its yet untrained potential, guarding it closely and even talking to it, as it was his constant companion. His Sire, Lord Drummond, was forever worried he would break his neck or worse, with the risks he took climbing trees as if they were small hills, or the way he fearlessly rode his tiny pony at breakneck speed throughout their keep lands, and over how often he blew up fantasy foes in the form of rocks and fallen logs. He was most certainly a force with to be reckoned with, one that would undoubtedly take years off of their once peaceful, and normal lives. But he was their son, their first-born and only true blood child, the heir to his father Lord Drummond’s lands and castle, and they loved him like no other.

As the years passed without the blessing of more children, they adopted other children from within their borders, children who had lost their parents in battles or to illness. Lord and Lady Drummond had a total of five at present, and indulged each one with their love. Nial was a kind and protective older brother to three sisters and one younger brother. The eldest sister, Davena, to whom he was particularly close, was his favorite, yet he adored them all and spent endless days nurturing them as if they were his own blood.

The time had come for him to set out on a journey away from the only home he had ever known, far to the eastern edges of the Highlands and south of the Drummond lands, to a place where another wizard lived, one to whom he could communicate his deepest thoughts and questions, one he heard tell could teach him the final things he needed to learn. Nial was now a man, well trained in the skills of a warrior, and more than ready to begin testing his power. The only way to hone his skills and complete his goal was to train with a skilled and accomplished wizard. He would seek out the legendary wizard, Alzar.

He set out early before the sun peaked up over the mountains, while the faint hint of lingering night and barely visible moon and stars remained to light his way. He turned in his saddle and looked back at his family home from the first plateau he crested, always impressed and amazed at his clan’s castle and borders, shining in the ascending morning light. It was truly a magical place, untouched by the harsh weather of the winter months, eternally spring and summer, as long as he was there or within a fortnight riding. Wherever Nial was within the Highlands, once he had come of age, the weather always reflected a mild countenance, never too cold or too hot, it was one of his many, great gifts.

His mount, Birk, was his constant companion, raised by Nial since he was a young boy, and the horse a colt. They grew up together in these mountains, forming a natural bond that Nial knew would never be broken. Never housed in a barn, Birk roamed free, usually spending his nights outside Nial’s window, grazing on clover buds. The horse was hands higher than most mounts and stood regally tall, with similar coloring to Nial, a deep chestnut brown with a golden-blonde mane and tail. They blended in quite well together within the forest, especially in the fall months when the golds, browns, reds, and oranges of autumn took over the land, painting it with vibrant color. Birk carried Nial on this journey over the highest mountains and through valleys alive with rivers and lochs, for three days and nights, as they made their way through the narrow mountain passage that led to the entrance of the Murray lands. Every manner of wildlife, and, it was said, the largest fish anyone had ever seen, lived in these mountains and forests, and it was known throughout time as a place of reverence and magic.

For as long as he could remember, tales were told of a young lass who lived in this part of the Highlands. She was known to be gifted and blessed with the powers of the Druids, and skilled in many of the ways of the wizard, a warrior woman, and the protector of all the living things. He was always fascinated by those stories, and wanted very badly to see for himself if they were real or just old lore from the inebriated imagination of some traveling bard. He would ask the wizard Alzar when he found him, of the woman from the tales he had heard so often. If she truly existed, he wanted to find her, to see for himself if the vivid dreams he had had for so long of just such a woman could possibly be true.

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Alzar was hard at work in his cave on the mountaintop, replenishing his stores of herbs and potions, as he sipped his brew of thick chocolate ambrosia. He suddenly felt the unmistakable energy and presence of another wizard close by when the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, a clear indication that a source of powerful energy would soon present itself. He mused to himself that it was quickly approaching the time for the one called Nial, the young wizard he had known would come when he reached the age of ripe magical promise, to seek him out. So Alzar continued on with his work, unconcerned with any real threat or danger. He thought maybe he should alert Rowan, his pupil and charge since she was but a child of three, but then quickly dismissed the idea. No, he said to himself out loud. It will be much more amusing to let their confrontation take them unawares. So he let his thoughts drift back to his work and he waited. As he finished his last bottle and placed the cork into the top, sliding it into place on the shelf above his large oak table, he heard the sound of hoof beats coming up the mountain. Opening his oversized wooden door, he stepped outside and waited for his approaching guest.

Nial crested the peak of the mountain and stopped. The sight before him was magnificent. He was just feet away from the shallow stream of water that topped a tremendous waterfall, stretching down one hundred feet and spilling into a glistening pool of turquoise. He nudged Birk forward and slowly walked the horse through the water to the other side. From this side of the peak he could see for hundreds of miles. Jagged cliffs edged the mountains in the distance, and dense forests and rolling hills were covered in an array of vivid greens. He looked down from where he was perched to find a very large cave covered in vines, reaching from end to end at the base of the plateau below. Standing in front of the giant door of the structure was a tall, very fit, glowing figure of a man. Nial thought, he must be Alzar, the one I sought to find. Nial rode near and dismounted, letting the reins drop and giving Birk the welcome freedom to rest and explore his new surroundings.

The young wizard approached Alzar. Are you the great wizard Alzar? If so, then I find myself in the correct place. Please allow me to introduce myself, sir. I am Nial Drummond from the Northern Mountains, and I have come to seek counsel with you, my friend, if you are indeed him and would permit me. Nial bowed, in reverence of the wizard’s power.

Yes, I am Alzar, and I have not only heard of you, but have been expecting you as well. Please, do come in. Alzar motioned to the door, opening it with his thoughts alone and allowing Nial to enter first. Please sit. Would you have some refreshment? You must be fair parched from such a long ride.

Aye, I am that. Have you any spring water?

Yes, lad, I do. Please, make yourself at home, I shall return in a moment. Alzar went to fetch his water from the bubbling indoor well and returned, handing it to Nial while holding his own cup of chocolate in his other hand. He seated himself across from the young wizard and leaned back in his chair, observing him. What brings you this far south of your lands, young Nial? Alzar asked, as he sat reclined across from him with his legs propped up and his ankles crossed on his overstuffed footstool.

I have a pressing need to seek answers from you, and to solve some mysteries that have been afloat in my mind. That is, if you should allow me to study with you. The younger wizard went on to explain. I have heard tales of this place and your protection here. It is said, there is a great magic on this mountain, and talk of a battle you fought and won against the most powerful, evil one, Nastar. The tales have been many, beginning before I was born and continuing still. I am here to request, if you will allow it, a brief time in your presence. I should like to learn about all of the magic here in this land, and the special skills you possess. I have heard they are quite unique, like no other wizards before you. Nial reclined after his long list of requests had been uttered, satisfied with their deliverance.

Alzar looked at Nial, fascinated. The young wizard was extremely polite, in contrast to the unruly child he had observed so many times before, and so he answered him with a tone of pleasure in his voice. Well, that is quite a request, Nial Drummond, and it sounds a bit time consuming, but I could allow a few weeks time for training and observation if it be your wish. I must admit I am curious to see the levels of magic you have attained thus far.

Thank you, Alzar. I am in your debt, and am most appreciative of your time and assistance. I shall just camp down by the waterfall, returning in the morning if that is suitable, Nial suggested, as he did not want to interfere with any plans Alzar may have already had for the day.

Of course, lad. The older wizard gathered himself up. ’Twill be a fine place to camp and I am glad you selected it. I would have made the suggestion myself if you had not. Come, let me show you the area there before you make camp, as it is a bit of a complex navigation.

Alzar led Nial down the side of the mountain to a landing where there was an outcropping of grass-covered rock and tall trees, bent slightly from the force of the winds, common at such elevations. It was a sheltered spot, with the magnificent Grey Mare’s Tail waterfall in the distance, its thick and wide stretch of water cascading down over the mountaintop and falling into a turquoise colored pool below. Nial looked at the sight before him and drew a ragged breath at the beauty laid out at his feet. ’Tis stunningly beautiful, Nial reflected aloud. And over there ’tis quite amazing as well, it seems ’tis already fashioned as a camp—why, there is even a stone ring for cooking and night fires. It was not just the indescribable sight, but also the complete readiness of the camp that was so intriguing to him, which made him wonder if this was a place used by many.

This place is used often by myself and others who travel here, Alzar allowed himself to reminisce for a moment. Feel free to make camp here if you like. It provides an excellent view of the falls and surrounding mountains, as well as the valleys below. Did you bring food with you, or are you in need of some stores? Alzar questioned, wondering if he would have to feed the young man as well.

I brought enough bread and cheese for a few days, and if I may fish here, I shall have all I need, Nial answered, hoping Alzar would approve of his request.

Well, lad, if anyone asks if you have permission to fish here, tell them I gave it to you. He raised his hand in warning and added, But please, limit yourself to only what you need and no more. Shall we meet on the morrow then?

Yes, we shall Alzar. Thank you. Goodnight. Nial was greatly pleased to find the wise and well-seasoned wizard graciously willing to help him find what he sought.

Nial spent a peaceful and comfortable night on the grassy outcropping, blanketed only by the stars and surrounded by the wistful sounds of the abundant nature around him. He woke to the light of dawn growing slowly brighter, and ventured down to the pool at the base of the waterfall to cleanse himself from the dusty ride of the previous days. Shedding his tunic and breeches and setting them neatly aside, he dove into the chilly clear water to refresh his body and senses. The water was frigidly cold, but felt pleasantly invigorating to him, as he had the innate ability to tune his own body temperature to accommodate what it needed to not only survive, but to be comfortable as well. He swam awhile, darting under the water like a seal at play, and then lay back, leisurely floating on the soft ripples beneath him, thinking of the questions for which he would be seeking answers from Alzar.

Suddenly, as if a bolt of lightening burst through him, Nial felt his body buzzing with the awareness of a presence nearby that stilled his movements. He looked above, up the mountainside, toward the peaks surrounding the pool to where the feeling drew him. There, just at the peak of the mountain was a woman peering down at him, half hidden behind a large oak tree, jutting out from the steep angular rocks. Startled at seeing a woman alone, at such heights, he was intensely curious, and simply waited and stared, not wanting to lose sight of her, lest she disappear. Continuing to tread water, he kept his eyes fixed upon her as he slowly drew closer to the bank and stood in the shallows, once the bottom of the pool was well planted beneath his feet. Suddenly he flinched and tensed, the adrenaline spiking and running rampant throughout his body with the awareness of something very large moving in the water behind him. It caused him to turn in defense and scramble to the water’s edge, revealing his naked and finely sculpted body. He turned, searching the water and the immediately surrounding area for what had brushed past him, not the slightest bit worried about covering himself, for he was too stunned to suffer modesty, realizing the huge creature, whatever it was, could have separated him from one or more of his appendages. After finding the source of what had moved so quickly past him, almost knocking him off his feet, he watched a very large fish of some sort, sporting a long oddly spiny tail, submerge deeper into the water as it swam away and disappeared underneath the waterfall. He moved quickly to the bank and grabbed for his linen cloth to dry the water from his relieved body, feeling more than a bit flustered and shaken from the near encounter with the odd beast of a fish. As he finished drying the moisture from his skin and slicking back his shoulder length hair, he looked up to where the woman had appeared. She most likely thought that she was well hidden behind that tree, and that he had not seen her. Hoping to see her again, he scanned the area, only to find the spot void of her presence. The woman had gone, vanishing from sight.

He dressed, all the while thinking of the woman and the lovely vision she had imprinted on his mind, causing his body to react with wayward desires of lust and intense curiosity. I wonder who she is? So far up in these mountains. Her hair, so long and lovely, the color of deep gold and red, reflecting the morning sun’s kiss, and her manner of dress, like that of a warrior woman. She was beautiful, a sight I shall not easily forget. I shall ask Alzar of her, maybe he knows who she is. Hmm, I wonder, could she be the woman described in the tales I have heard all these years? Ah, what a lovely creature, he thought to himself as he gathered his belongings and started up the cliff to the peak above to meet and counsel with his new teacher.

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Rowan had been out early that morning, collecting some fresh herbs and mushrooms that grew wild on the peak. As she bent down to gather the few she spotted growing in the shade of the giant oak tree, something moving in the water below the falls caught her eye. She leaned around the tree trunk and looked down to the pool at the base of the Grey Mare’s Tail waterfall, and found a man swimming there. He was quite the handsome prince, or quite the package, as her mother used to say, quoting one of her many odd expressions from the future. He was a very well built, very handsome man, agile, and a swift swimmer, from what she could see at that distance. She noticed that he carried a familiar energy, similar to what she felt and carried within her own body, as she watched him seamlessly darting in and out of the water like a slippery eel. She stood there silent and still, half behind the tree, so she could observe the sight of him and yet not be seen. She watched him swimming leisurely in the frigid water as if in a tepid bath, and thought him daft to be seemingly enjoying his swim, when that water was truly and undeniably cold. Then, as if drawn to her eyes, he looked up in her direction and seemed to see her watching him. He just stared at her, half covered by the water that rose to just below his waist, revealing a picturesque marking from his shoulder, down to where it disappeared below the waterline. It was a Celtic image of swans and eagles, and it was magnificent. Never before had she seen such an image. She stood motionless, transfixed at the gloriously masculine sight below her perch, as it sent waves of newly discovered desire racing throughout her body. And his energy, the same humming with which she was quite familiar, made her sure he had to be laced with magic—if not a druid, then a wizard or a seer, maybe even fae. She did not want to risk discovery as he moved toward the bank, perhaps in pursuit of her, so she summoned the largest creature she could imagine to distract him, allowing her time to make her escape. Its name was Wallace.

She had, much to her surprise, discovered Wallace in the cave pool, deep in the caverns behind the waterfall when she went to study with Alzar six years ago. Wallace was a fairly large and fierce looking dragon, left behind by his own kind many years past. The dragon conveyed the story to her with his thoughts of how he and his kind came to be in the Highlands, lost in unexpected travel through time.

There was a cosmic storm one night, some nineteen years past. He and his young fellow dragons were out in the storm that night, playing in the stone circle, high on the Wizard’s Hill. They were magically hurled into the future unawares, and took refuge behind the waterfall, where there was a cavernous structure and another pool within. They stayed secretly hidden, fearing discovery, and slowly learned to adapt to the conditions there. A year later, another frightening storm came, one with the same cosmic force they had felt when they were first hurled through time. They cautiously ventured back up to the stone circle through which they had come, hoping to be returned to their own time. Wallace, then still quite young, was afraid of a more severe fate, so he stayed hidden in the cave until the storm passed, thinking his fellows foolhardy. When it was over and he went to find the others, the dragons had vanished. They had been right in thinking it would take them back. Poor Wallace was left behind, all alone to fend for himself, without the company of his own kind, in a strange new time and place, with the threat of hunters all around him.

He stayed below in the deep pool behind the waterfall, only to come out on nights when there would be no moon. Sadly, all he wanted was to return to his own time and his own kind, until he found Rowan. Rowan felt his presence the day Alzar took her to the pool to explain the story of her father’s map and search, where they had found chests of gold and jewels hidden far below the water. Alzar was quite surprised when she told him of her findings, her feelings of the presence of a dragon, and her communication with him. At first Alzar did not believe her, yet as time passed, he met Wallace himself and was working on a plan with her to help the creature return to his own time.

This man Rowan had seen, whomever he was, would think again before swimming in the pool below the falls, as startled as he was when Wallace brushed past his legs beneath the icy cold water. She would not forget to ask Alzar if he had seen a strange man in the mountains the next time she saw him, nor would she forget the splendid sight she had witnessed that morning.

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Nial rolled up his pack and slinging it over his shoulder, took only what he needed and left the rest by the rocks, as he set off to tackle the steep cliff that led to Alzar’s cave on the peak. As he climbed, he made a mental note to make learning the skill of hovering a top priority—this climbing was not to his liking. He much preferred running and swimming for his exercise.

After sustaining a few scrapes from the near vertical climb, and already forming a fine sheen of moisture on his skin, he finally found flat land and dusted himself off as he approached the cave of the wizard. Not wanting to intrude too early, he stopped and waited for Alzar to come out, knowing he would sense his presence. He sat on the ledge of the cliff, leaning back against the tall oak tree rooted there. As he looked down over the valleys below, taking in the splendid sight and quiet majesty of the lands before him, he thought of the woman he had seen earlier that morning, peeking out from the very tree against which he now rested. What was it about her that haunted him so? He grew more curious and increasingly enamored, as well as inflamed with an intense desire to touch her and make certain she was real, to know how she felt in his arms and flush against his body. He was certain that she was filled with some kind of magic. It felt familiar to him, a humming energy similar to his own. He vowed he would not rest until he found out who and what she was.

Alzar opened his large wooden door and stepped out into the clear crisp air of another glorious autumn morning. Turning his face to the sun, he slowly inhaled his daily dose of energy. When his stores were full, he looked over to the ridge and noticed Nial perched there waiting for him. Good morn to you Nial. You are about early this fine day. I am off to my morning meditation. Would you care to join me? Alzar asked, sincerely hoping Nial would agree and thus learn his first lesson all at once.

Aye, I would, Nial answered, as he stood and followed closely behind the legendary wizard. They walked up to the plateau where stood Alzar’s large stone circle, encompassing another circle etched into the granite beneath their feet, running the perimeter of its center. He took a seat upon the earth, cross-legged inside one curved area of the inner circle, and gestured for Nial to sit opposite him in silent meditation. After thirty minutes or so spent in thankfulness and clarity, Alzar stood and began to chant his blessing to all the forces that had granted him his gifts. He finished by closing his ceremony with a bow of grateful thanks. Nial did the same, observing his teacher’s ritual, and recorded it in his mind to add to his own daily routine.

So, Nial, what would you like to study today? Alzar asked, as he stood with his arms crossed over his chest, awaiting his pupil’s answer, wondering what he would choose.

I would have an interest in shaping and honing my skills at hovering, as that hill is quite steep, and it is an art I have tried but as yet failed to master, Nial remarked with a chuckle. He then went on to ask, Alzar, this morn I went into the pool for a swim. While I floated about, I noticed a woman on the ridge, half-hiding behind a tall oak on the mountain. When I moved toward the waters’ edge to gain a closer look and speak to her, some beast of a fish near knocked me off my feet. I have to confess, I was quite startled by the size of it and swiftly found the shore. When I looked back up to find her, she had gone, vanished. Do you know of a woman living up here? She was dressed somewhat oddly for a woman, in a warrior’s garb, but ah, she had hair of spun gold and copper, hanging in a long braid over her shoulder, and I must say, she was quite a glorious sight from what I could see at that distance.

Alzar thought of how he would answer Nial while he waited for him to finish rattling off that endless sentence. It was the longest question he had ever been asked, almost tiring him. He did not yet want to answer the young wizard’s question, for he wanted Rowan and Nial to find each other on their own, slowly dancing circles around each other until fate took over and finally brought them face-to-face. An introduction would come soon enough. For now, they needed time to explore the others presence, unaware of their destiny. He thought on it a moment and then said, I do know of a woman who lives up in these mountains. She is very elusive and keeps mostly to herself.

But who is she? Do you know her name? Nial inquired, eager to learn more about her.

Ah, let me think on her name a moment. Alzar paused, rubbing his chin, stretching the time, waiting for Nial to interrupt and move on to another subject so he could avoid the tale completely for now, and then it came.

No matter, I intend to find her. She should be easy to find, with hair like that, ablaze with light, Nial stated confidently.

Alzar looked at him, surmising he was stricken blind with an instant attraction to Rowan, and he felt certain that the lad would search for her, and soon. So he did his best to distract him for as long as he could with the lessons he so badly wanted to learn, and the practice he needed to hone his skills. Nial, did you come here to study, or did you come here to run about searching for a beautiful woman? Alzar knew this challenge would be well met, and would also buy him some precious time, as he felt they were not yet ready to meet. He had a few preparations to make first.

Forgive me, Alzar, yes, I came here to study, I will search on my own time. Shall we begin then? he asked, apologetically.

All right then, lad. We shall begin with the hovering you asked to learn. Stand over there. Alzar pointed to a spot about ten feet in front of himself. Now, close your eyes and imagine you are afloat, slightly hovering above the ground on which you stand. Visualize yourself lifting ever so slightly, and hold there.

Nial did as he was instructed. He pictured himself rising just a bit and holding as Alzar had said. Suddenly he shot up off the ground in an arc and was thrown a good ten feet, landing on his backside.

Ouch! That was a bit too strong, I imagine, he said, grimacing, as he righted himself and found his feet, dusting off his backside and rubbing out the bruise that was sure to form later. Alzar looked at him with the corners of his eyes crinkled in barely contained laughter.

Yes, lad, that was a bit too much, I would say. Now let us try it again. Calm your enthusiasm a bit, focus on my voice, and concentrate; think peaceful gentle gliding thoughts, and imagine again that you are merely rising slightly above the ground, as a feather floats when caught by a small wisp of air. Become that feather, Nial. Alzar watched as Nial again closed his eyes and tried once more. Nial breathed deeply and imagined he was floating, as he had floated on the water that morning in the pool, remembering the gentle sway and how soothing it was. Then he imagined himself a white feather, floating on a warm tendril of air. And slowly, he rose a few feet off the ground and hovered.

Alzar wanted him to remain as such, to get used to the feeling, so he quietly spoke to him. Nial, keep your focus, very slowly open your eyes, but do not look down. Look to me and follow. Alzar met his eyes, and hovering himself, led Nial up the hill to the high plateau, where they had gone to meditate earlier. Nial followed him with his eyes and mind, still a feather hovering a few inches above the ground, until they reached the top and faced one another. Now, Nial. Think of a rock in your path. You will need to rise up higher to pass over it. There, see that small rock up ahead? Think now, stay with me, focus, rise, and clear the distance. Nial did as his teacher instructed, and rose up, clearing the rock with a smooth motion. Good, lad, very good, indeed. You may return to the ground now. Think of coming down to solid ground. Think of the gentle air that has left the feather resting still, lying on the ground unmoving, and remember, not too quickly. Alzar spoke with a soft, soothing, and hypnotically calming voice that further brought Nial to that peaceful place in his mind’s eye.

They both landed softly on the earth, and Nial, sporting a look of proud achievement, simply smiled. That was wonderful. May we now try it on the steep hill? Nial asked, brimming with a barely contained enthusiasm, and waiting eagerly for his teacher’s answer.

Not just yet, lad. You must repeat what you have learned many times before you tackle that hill. I would not want you to skin your handsome face. You may need those good looks for that woman with whom you are so obsessed.

They both laughed heartily, and Nial thanked Alzar for his first lesson. What shall I learn next, then?

Mmm, let me think. Where is your wand?

My wand?

Yes. The one you made from the Rowan tree. Do you have it?

Yes, of course I have it. Nial turned to go and fetch his wand, wondering how Alzar could have known about it, then turned and asked, Alzar, how do you know of my wand? He felt a sudden awareness and new knowledge rise up within him at Alzar’s inquiry.

I have observed much about you for many years, Nial. A wizard always knows and should be aware of who will be an adversary, and who will be a friend. Did you not feel my presence as you grew from a boy to a man from time to time?

Now that you have told me of it, yes. I did feel some current of power from time to time over the years. So it was you then.

Yes, it was me, and lucky for you not some evil wizard, like the one I had to turn to ash not so long ago. You have sparked my interest from the day you were born, Nial Drummond. I have observed you torturing your parents with worry and fear, but, I am glad to say, I have never witnessed you causing harm or abusing your given power. That alone is very pleasing indeed. Now, where is your wand?

’Tis just there, within my sack, I will bring it, he answered, pointing to his burlap sack by the tree where he was sitting when Alzar opened his door that morning.

He was a lad rich with power and substantial monetary wealth, which left Alzar wondering why his sack was made of such a plain, crude burlap, and not a fine leather satchel to hold his most prized possession. Ah, yes, now we can have some real fun. Bring yourself over here and wait for me. Alzar disappeared inside his cave, and moments later emerged with his own wand in hand. Now Nial, make me a fire in that pit over there, and then extinguish it just as quickly.

Nial pointed his wand at the charred ring that was vacant of fire, and it spewed to life with a fine blaze. Then as quickly as he had started it, he put it out with a similar gesture, while flicking his wrist with obvious talent and pride. Alzar was impressed. He knew this lad had an innate ability and had practiced his calling for years. But just how much was he hiding? What would he ask of him now? Alzar hoped it would be a kinship, and not a rival he found in Nial, as he was not prepared to divulge prematurely the knowledge that Nial would soon learn for himself. The discovery would show him that it would be Nial’s own firstborn who would replace Alzar in the not too distant future, and not Nial himself.

They worked together all day, and when it was time for supper, Alzar invited the lad to dine with him by the pool below the waterfall.

Nial, can you summon a fish or two for our supper?

Nial looked at him with a bit of surprise, hoping he might offer to bring up the fish himself. He did not want to divulge all of his talents just yet, unsure if Alzar already knew how honed his skills were. Nor did he want an enemy, rather, he wanted a friend and confidant.

Nial walked determinedly to the pools edge with wand in hand, and summoned two fish to willingly provide for their meal. He pulled them from the water, thanked them for their gracious offering and began cleaning them for the spit.

Alzar sat eating his trout, observing Nial. Nial knew what he was possibly and probably thinking while he sat there enjoying his meal, and decided to nip it in the bud before any dissension had time to grow.

Alzar, I must make a confession. I am in need of a friend in you, so I must tell you now, I have been hiding a bit of my ability. I wanted to learn about you and hopefully become friends, so I pretended not to know very much of the ways of the wizard. I am sorry, will you accept my apology? Nial asked a bit sheepishly.

Of course, lad. Why not? I am a gracious man. You are forgiven. You see, I knew all of this before you set foot on my mountain. I just wanted to see how far you would try to lead me unwittingly.

"Ah, I should have known. A man as great and powerful as you would know all of