Page 13 of Wild Scottish Rose

“I’m the Knight.” Sophie beamed at me when my mouth dropped open. She tossed her hair back and brushed her hands at her shoulders, preening for me. “I can tell you’re suitably impressed.”

“The Knight? Like with a sword and all that?”

“Correct. Though my weapon of choice is more of a dirk.”

“A dirk.” I nodded like I had any idea what a dirk was.

“And Lia’s is her chopping knife.” Agnes laughed at the expression on my face.

“Lia?”

“Kitchen witch,” Sophie said.

“Wait…what? You’re a knight and she’s a kitchen witch? What kind of Order is this?”

“Excellent question.” Agnes laughed and leaned over to pull a stack of books from her messenger bag. “From what we can determine, while the Order of Caledonia has been fulfilled by both male and female leaders throughout history, it is at its most powerful when fulfilled by women.”

“The divine feminine and all that,” Sophie added.

“But wouldn’t you all just be knights? Isn’t that what an Order is?” I squinched my nose up.

“Not necessarily,” Sophie continued. “You’re thinking of the Knights of the Round Table, but historically speaking, Orders are formed for a variety of reasons with a multitude of roles assigned to their members. Because of Scotland’s roots in paganism, we believe that this Order is fulfilled by what we would call today…witches.”

Green witch.

I clenched my hand, digging my short nails into my palm, and my skin flushed with heat, my stomach churning. “Witches?”

“More or less.” Sophie shrugged. “I don’t know that every person who joins the order will be a witch. I don’t really consider myself to be one in the traditional sense, but I definitely have power. I think it’s just a term we give to people who step into their magick.”

“What do you mean step into their magick?” I shook my head, drumming my fingers against the teacup, matching the intensity of the rain that hammered the roof.

“There’s a ritual that accompanies joining the Order. From my understanding, this ritual will trigger your latentpower to manifest in full form,” Agnes said as casually as though she was commenting on the weather.

And what if your magick wasn’t latent?

The thought skidded through my head, slamming into my brain so suddenly, that I gripped the teacup hard enough that tea sloshed over the rim and onto my hand.

“It’s a lot to take in, Shona,” Agnes said, her voice soft, as she stood and crossed the room for a towel to clean up my spilled tea. Passing it to me, she pressed a hand softly at my shoulder. “I’m here for you, every step of the way. Yes, it’s scary and intense and weird, but also it’s magickal and wonderful, and you’re a part of something so much more. Just think of the incredible history behind the stone—the Clach na Fìrinn—and how the Order has protected it for centuries. It’s not just about you, it’s about being weaved into Loren Brae’s history. Andyoucan be an integral part in keeping the Clach na Fìrinn—and Loren Brae–safe.”

I blew out a breath and tried to steady myself. Not used to sitting for long, I stood, needing to be among my plants as I thought this through.

“I need to…” I cocked my head toward the greenhouse. Digging in the soil settled me, calmed my thoughts, and that is where I needed to be. Without waiting for their answer, I returned to the greenhouse and began mixing my dirt to transplant some basil to bring inside for the winter. The women followed, teacups in hand, as they leaned against a worktop near where I scooped dirt.

“Tell me about this ritual.”

Rituals made me think of blood oaths and full moons, and I wasn’t sure that I was ready for all of that. Maybe I had to be? If I was being called upon to enter this Order, Icouldn’t let my friends in Loren Brae down, could I? Conflicted, I continued to pot as Sophie spoke.

“Honestly? It’s kind of wild. Listen, I didn’t grow up here, so this was quite a shock to my system when I inherited the castle. That being said, Uncle Arthur did try to prepare me for what I would discover here because he was constantly tutoring me in all sorts of Scottish myths and legends. Even so, nothing really prepares you for the first time you confront the Kelpies. Or…well, any of the other magickal beings that roam Loren Brae.”

At that, I whipped my head up, my heart pounding. Did she know about the gnome?

“Magickal beings? There’s more than one?”

“Much to my surprise, and sometimes deep annoyance,” Sophie muttered.

“Like what?” I demanded, brushing the dirt from my hands as I turned to face them head-on.

“Lia has a kitchen elf. A broonie. His name’s Brice, and he’s a cheeky chappie,” Agnes volunteered, smiling when my mouth dropped open.

---