Ian by Elizabeth Rose Read Free Book Online

brush. “No more!” She used her hand to knock the platter away and spun on her heel toward the fire to see the eerie face that was peering at her over her shoulder.
    But when she turned around, the man was gone. And instead, through the flames she saw Ian standing there. He looked right at her, but didn’t seem to even see her. He had a surprised look upon his face at first, and then his brows dipped and she could see what looked like fear mixed with anger. Then he threw something into the fire that looked like a soul cake, and turned and rushed away.
    “What is it?” asked Coira from her side. “Did ye ken the man ye saw in the flames?”
    “I’m . . . no’ sure,” she said, not understanding any of this. “But I dinna think I want te try an y more o’ these pagan rituals again, Coira.”
    “But Zara , the old gypsy is inside the pub readin’ fortunes fer e’eryone tonight. Let’s go see her, Kyla, as she is supposed te be able te see inte the future.”
    “I’ll go with ye ,” said Kyla, “but I dinna want her te read me fortune. Becooz I dinna think I want te ken me future any more.”

    Chapter 6
     
     
    Ian was so upset by the ghostly figure of Tearlach that he’d seen in the flames, that he headed right to the pub. Once inside, he didn’t wait for Callum to serve him, he grabbed a bottle of mountain magic and took a swig himself.
    “Ian, what’s got ye so spooked?” asked Callum, talking over his shoulder as he served the customers. It was busy and he couldn’t stop to visit.
    “Why do ye say thet?” He raised the bottle and took another swig.
    “Becooz ye have a look on yer face I’ve ne’er seen before.” He reached out and grabbed the bottle of whisky away from him. “And ye’re drinkin’ all me mountain magic without payin’ fer it, thet’s why.”
    Old Callum MacKeefe was the pubkeeper and also Storm’s grandfather. Rumors had it that when the man disappeared for many years that he’d gone crazy. Now, Ian knew what that felt like. Because he himself had disappeared for a year, and because of it he felt as if he were going crazy as well.
    “I’m sorry,” he said, pulling a coin from his pouch a nd laying it on the drink board to pay for the whisky.
    “Dinna fash yerself,” said the old man , flipping a rag over his shoulder that he’d used to wipe his hands. “Ye ken I dinna charge any of the MacKeefes fer the brew. But jest leave some whisky fer the payin’ customers, thet’s all I ask.”
    “ O’ course.” He reached out to pick up the coin, but when he did, Zara, the old gypsy who was good friends with their chieftain’s wife grabbed his hand and turned it over.
    “Let me read yer palm,” she said. “Tonight is the night when futures are told.”
    “Nay, Zara, leave me alone.” He pulled his hand away.
    “Something is upsetting you. Care to tell me what it is?”
    “Nay, I’m fine. Really.”
    “Here,” said Callum handing him a lit beeswax candle that was stuck into the neck of an empty bottle. “We need more light in here. Put it on the end of the drink board.”
    Ian took the candle from Callum, but at the same time his wolfhound ran across the room and jumped up on him, and some of the wax splashed onto the drink board.
    “Take it easy, Kyle,” Ian said, running a hand over his hound’s head, and carefully placing the candle down. “There’ll be no livin’ with auld Callum if ye burn down his pub.”
    The hound barked at him playfully, then dropped to the ground looking for scraps of food among the rushes.
    Ian was about to walk away when Zara stopped him.
    “Look!” she said , pointing at the spilled wax in front of them.
    “Och, sorry me hound made a mes s. I can clean it up.” He reached forward but she held out her hand and stopped him. She continued staring downward.
    “Do you see w hat I see in the spilled wax?” she asked in a low voice.
    “Zara, dinna tell me ye are goin’ te read me future from wax