Highlander’s Frozen Heart by Shona Thompson

Chapter Sixteen

Magnus had decided to take Adelleine’s advice and spend some time with Fergus. It was long overdue, after all, spending some time with his son, and even though he remembered the frustration and disappointment that crashed over him like a wave every time that Fergus refused to talk to him, he also remembered the good times that they had had together before Caitriona’s death.

He knew where to find the boy. He knew that Adelleine and Isla often took him to the lake, and that he loved that place more than any other around the castle, so it was the first place where he decided to look for him.

When he reached the lake, he frowned to himself, seeing Fergus all alone, standing by the edge of it. As he got closer, Magnus realised that Fergus was dripping wet, his hair sticking to his face and his clothes dragging him down with their weight. His lips were blue and his eyes glassy, and Magnus rushed to him, already taking off his coat before he had even made it to his side.

“Fergus . . . Fergus, what happened?” he asked, as he tore Fergus’ clothes off his body as fast as he could, his hands trembling as he fought with all the buttons and the fastenings, “Where’s Adelleine?”

Fergus didn’t reply, but instead, he stared at the pond, and then it hit Magnus.

Adelleine was in there. She was in there, dying.

Magnus placed his coat around Fergus’ shoulders, and then didn’t hesitate, not even for a moment, before he jumped into the freezing waters.

It was hard to see through the water. The few sunrays that made it through the clouds above the surface did little to illuminate the lake, and the ample vegetation only served to make it even harder for Magnus to search for Adelleine.

A string of terrible thoughts went through his mind. He wondered how long Adelleine had been down there, whether she was already all the way at the bottom of the lake, whether he could even reach her with one breath—though he doubted that the lake was that deep.

He wondered if she was already dead, if he was too late.

Magnus couldn’t allow himself to be distracted by his own worries. He had to focus on finding Adelleine first, and then he could worry about what could have happened.

He began to swim faster, trying to reach as deep as he could, and then he saw her. He spotted her, her body descending, her clothes billowing around her along with her hair. She didn’t look like she was breathing, and Magnus’ heart stopped in his chest.

He didn’t know if he would manage to survive yet another death. He didn’t know what he would do if Adelleine was gone from his life.

He fought the cold and the fatigue, and soon, he reached her. He wrapped an arm around her waist, and with what little strength he had left, he pulled himself and Adelleine back up on the surface, and once he pushed her onto the ground, he pulled himself out of the lake, his entire body covered in pins and needles from the cold.

Fergus was still there, clutching tightly onto Magnus’ jacket, his eyes wide and fearful.

Magnus didn’t want him to watch Adelleine die, but he also didn’t want to leave him out of his sight. He looked better, the colour slowly returning to his cheeks, but he was too worried about him to tell him to leave and head back to the castle all alone.

“Turn around, Fergus,” he told him instead, as he approached Adelleine, kneeling down next to her. The boy didn’t listen to him, and that only served to anger Magnus, whose emotions were already running high. “Turn around!” he barked at him, and Fergus flinched, but he did as he was told.

Guilt washed over Magnus. There he was, yelling at his own son again, when Adelleine was dying right in front of their eyes.

Adelleine was dying; everything else could wait.

Magnus grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a gentle shake, though it seemed to do nothing to help. Then again, he didn’t know what he could possibly do that would help.

His hands reached for Adelleine’s wrist, and Magnus checked for a pulse, a sigh of relief escaping him when he realised that Adelleine’s heart was still beating. Just as Magnus was about to check if she was also breathing, Adelleine awoke, coughing as she choked on the water still inside her, and Magnus rolled her to her side so that she could spit it out.

Magnus could have cried, had Fergus not been there, ignoring his orders and watching him despite Magnus telling him to turn around. Magnus couldn’t even bring himself to care, though. Adelleine was alive, and everything else seemed minor compared to that.

“Adelleine . . . can ye hear me, lass?” he asked her, and Adelleine looked at him, one of her hands coming up to touch him, but falling back down before she could do so.

She was weak, Magnus realised. She was very weak, and on the verge of death, her lips a dark shade of purple and her skin colder than ice.

He had to take her back to the castle.

Magnus stood, and then he scooped Adelleine up in his arms, carrying her as gently as he could back to the castle, where she could get warm again. He stopped only for a moment, when he saw that Fergus wasn’t following him, and nodded at him to come along.

“Come, laddie,” he said, “Let’s get ye both warmed up. We must go to the castle right the noo. Come.”

Magnus had underestimated the effect that the cold had had on him, though. The only thing that had allowed him to reach the castle gates was his own stubbornness and his fear for Adelleine’s life.

“Help!” he shouted at the guards who were standing in front of the gate, “Come help me with her!”

The two men rushed to him, and Magnus passed Adelleine to them, before he braced himself on his knees, his hands trembling and his entire body shivering. Suddenly, there was a flurry of people around him, his guards rushing to him to ensure that he was alright.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he assured them all, “I’m fine. Tend to Fergus and Adelleine. The lad is freezing, get him inside and have Mrs. Blair give him a bath and some clothes.”

His guards did as they were told, and took Fergus away, who went with them without protest. Even so, Magnus could see the fear in his eyes whenever he glanced at Adelleine as the guards carried her away. He could see that he was thinking the exact same thing he was.

Will she die, just like Caitriona?

Magnus wouldn’t allow that to happen. He followed his guards as they took Adelleine inside, sending one of them to notify the healer of the castle, and he only left her side while the women took off her wet clothes, replacing them with warm blankets. Once they were done, Magnus went back inside the room, bringing a chair close to the bed and sitting by Adelleine’s side.

He wouldn’t leave, not until she herself would assure him that she was fine.

People rushed in and out of the room for what seemed like an eternity to Magnus. He only left the room for a few moments, just so that he could change into clean, dry clothes, and then he sat right back down on the chair, patiently waiting for Adelleine to awaken once more, though it seemed like it would take a long time for her to rise from her sleep.

He didn’t know how long he had been sitting there, by her side, when Isla rushed into the room, eyes wide and wild as she searched for Adelleine, only to find her lying down on the bed, sleeping.

“What happened?” she asked Magnus, as she walked to the bed, perching herself on the edge of the mattress, her hand reaching for Adelleine’s own. When she touched her, Isla flinched, eyes going even wider. “She’s so cold! What happened, Magnus?”

“I dinnae ken,” he said, “I . . . I went to the loch, thinkin’ that Fergus and Adelleine would be there, and they were . . . weel, he was. He was standin’ by the shore, all wet, and Adelleine was nay where to be found. When I asked him where she was, he looked at the loch, and that’s where I found her. I suppose that he fell in the water and she saved him.”

Isla gasped, her hand tightening around Adelleine’s own. “What about Fergus? Is he alright? Where is he?”

“He’s in his bed,” Magnus assured Isla, “He’s fine, he got a wee cold, but he’ll be fine. Ye can go and see him if ye wish, but he may be sleepin’.”

“Aye, I will,” Isla said, “Poor laddie. It’s a good thing that Adelleine was there, but . . . Lord, I hope she is alright. I dinnae ken what I’ll do if she dies.”

“She’ll be fine,” Magnus said, “She will be, I promise ye. I’ll do anythin’ it takes to keep her alive.”

Isla gave him a look that Magnus couldn’t quite understand, but he was certain that there was a hint of pity there. He didn’t want her pity, though; he didn’t want anyone’s pity, and he certainly didn’t want Isla or anyone else to compare Adelleine’s drowning to the passing of his late wife.

“Where were ye anyway?” Magnus asked, “I thought ye’d have come to see her sooner.”

“I didnae ken until right noo,” Isla said, “Had I kent, I’d have come sooner.”

“Where were ye?” Magnus asked once more, and then his gaze fell onto a strange mark on Isla’s neck, right where it met her shoulder, “What’s that?”

“What?”

“That mark, on yer neck,” Magnus said, reaching over to probe the mark with his finger. Isla moved away from him before he could do so, though, a hand coming up to cover it.

“Nothin’!” she said, “I dinnae ken. Perhaps a bug bit me.”

Isla had never been a good liar, and that time was no exception. Magnus knew that she was hiding something, though he didn’t know what that could be.

Before he could investigate any further, Isla stood, heading towards the door. “I’ll go and see Fergus,” she said, “Just to make sure that he’s alright. Do ye want me to bring him here?”

“Why would I want that?”

“So that ye can be by his side, ye bampot,” Isla said, “Why do ye think?”

Magnus had to admit that he hadn’t even considered that, but it sounded like something that he should do. Fergus must have been shaken up by the events of the day, after all, and Magnus wanted to be there for him, as much as he could.

“Aye . . . aye, bring him here,” he said.

Isla left, and suddenly Magnus was alone with Adelleine for the first time that day. He gazed at her for a while, taking in the pallor of her skin, the colour of her lips that hadn’t changed much from the deep, disturbing blue.

A part of him wanted to start speaking to her. He wanted to say something, anything, just so that he could make the situation a little more normal, but he feared that someone would come in at any moment and hear him.

He didn’t want his men to think that he was getting too attached.

So, instead, he stayed quiet, patiently waiting for Isla to bring Fergus to the room.

He didn’t have to wait for long. Soon enough, Isla entered the room once more, this time with Fergus in tow.

At least Fergus looked like he had gone back to his normal self. His skin was a healthy colour, cheeks flushed after the warm bath that Mrs. Blair had given him, but he still seemed fearful, his gaze drifting back to Adelleine constantly.

Isla excused herself once more, claiming that she had business to attend to, and before Magnus could protest, she was gone. Suddenly, he and Fergus were alone, and Magnus had no idea what to say to him.

It turned out that he didn’t have to struggle for long, as Fergus surprised him by speaking first.

“Is Adelleine goin’ to die?”

Magnus sighed, running a hand through his hair. He couldn’t believe that the first thing that Fergus had said to him in years had been that question, but he couldn’t allow himself to be upset.

He had to take care of his son. He had to comfort him.

“Nay . . . nay, Fergus, Adelleine will be just fine,” he promised, “She’ll wake up verra soon, ye’ll see.”

“What if she dies?” Fergus insisted, “What if she dies like Mamaidh? Ye couldnae save her either, and she’s dead noo because of ye.”

Hearing those words was like a stab to the heart for Magnus. He had always suspected that Fergus blamed him for Caitriona’s death, but the boy had never said so before, not with actual words, at least. Now his suspicions were confirmed, and no matter what Isla or Adelleine or anyone else had told him, he couldn’t help but feel as though his late wife’s death was, indeed, his own fault.

How could Magnus reply to that? What could he possibly tell Fergus, when the boy was so devastated by his mother’s death?

“I’m sorry, Fergus,” Magnus said, as he stood from the chair and approached his son, crouching down in front of him so that they were at the same level, “I’m sorry. I ken that I didnae save yer mamaidh, but I tried. I tried me best, we all did. I’d do anythin’ to bring yer mamaidh back, do ye hear? I’d do anythin’, but there isnae anythin’ that I can do.”

Fergus sighed, but he didn’t reply to Magnus, though Magnus hadn’t expected him to say anything in the first place. He hated that his son had gone through so much pain at such a young age, and he, too, blamed himself for it, no matter what Isla, Adelleine, or anyone else said.

He should have done more to save Caitriona. He didn’t know what else he could have possibly done to fight her disease, but he should have moved heaven and earth for her. He should have found the best healers in the world and brought them to the castle. He should have asked the Lord to take him instead of her.

Anything would be preferable to the reality of the situation. Anything would be preferable to Fergus losing his mother.

“Do ye promise that Adelleine will wake up?” Fergus asked him then.

Magnus wanted to say yes, of course. He wanted to comfort Fergus as much as he could. But what if he would be telling him a lie? What if Adelleine wouldn’t manage to pull through, and Magnus would have lied to his son?

“I hope so, Fergus,” Magnus said, “I really do.”