After a moment of blank-faced shock, I stifle a laugh and shake my head. "Alright, Symon. I'm sorry I made you stay. Let's go."

"Ye think I'm lying?" she questions, angrily. 

Symon helps me up, taking my hand. "Yes, we do."

"Your clothes are in the wardrobe. We'll be outside."

As they shut the door, we open the wardrobe, finding the clothes we were wearing at the party. Why they hid them is beyond me. I don't want to find out. I want to get home- I want to forget this as soon as possible.

"Don't lace it," Symon says, reaching out for me when dressed. My shaking fingers give up on the corset and I nod, taking his hand. I'm relieved when he grabs the door and opens it easily, the night air blowing against us as we take a step onto the dirt.

Greer and her husband are standing beside the stone home, the only people outside. Symon and I stop mid-step, glancing around in the darkness.

Where are the lights? The streets? Why are all the homes stone? The roofs... My lips tremble as I take in the fact that the house we just walked out of looks exactly like one in pictures I'd show the tourists on tours of Inverness. Homes covered with clods.

"What-?" I breathe, letting go of Symon's hand. Walking onto the middle of the dirt road, I look down the brown, oddly-paved path, seeing no sign of electricity anywhere. No normal homes and I feel a sinking in my stomach.

No. No, this isn't happening. It can't be. It's impossible.

Tears of immediate fear spring to my eyes and I look to Symon, who looks as if he's just seen a ghost.

"Please, ye both need to come inside- eat something. I will explain everything."

I can only manage, "A-are you telling the truth?"

Greer's gaze is soft, compassionate when she nods, glancing at the man beside her. "Aye, it's true."

"Oh... God," I whisper thickly, shaking my head in horror.

"This can't be real." Symon sets his hand over his parted lips as his eyes wander over the dark, quiet highlands. "This isn't real."

"Please, ye need to come inside," the man beside Greer murmurs, holding open the door.

"You-you did this to us," Symon growls, clearly panicking. "I'll kill you, I swear!"

She backs up as the man moves in front of her, protective. He isn't anywhere near Symon's size but his gaze is fierce enough to be wary of him. "Maybe in time... but definitely not now. Your bones are weak from the stone dust- ye need nourishment."

"And you will explain this?" I swallow, touching Symon's arm to calm him. It doesn't work though- with an angry curse, he pulls his arm away and walks to the far corner of the path, staring out into the forest. I watch him silently before I turn, nodding to Greer before I step back in through their threshold.

There's no point in arguing. We're obviously stuck here. We can't push away the one person that knows how to get back.

She shuts the door behind the man, sighing. "He will come in when he's ready to listen."

I grab ahold of the back of a wood chair, inhaling. "How do we get back, Greer?"

"You're not a daft woman, Gillian. Ye ken we did this for a reason."

"What possible reason could you have to fucking transport us to another time?! What possible reason?"

"It is your destiny. I told ye change was comin'."

"This is not my time. Our time! I have family- friends there."

"Oh please, lassie," the man grunts, leaning against the table. "Ye had no friends. Scarcely spoke to your family."

My eyes bugger wide. "Who is this guy?"

"My husband, Knox Neilson."

The door opens then, revealing a paler Symon, who looks rather strange in his garments. I blink as he walks up beside me, nodding, an indication that he's ready to listen.

"Please, Greer, we have lives... This is wrong."

"Everyone has a destiny. Everyone has a purpose. We wouldn't have taken you from your life if it wasn't for a reason."

"What reason is it, then?" Symon says, quietly. Greer gestures to the seat.

"Ye may want to sit down, sir."

...

"I beg your pardon?" Symon bellows, rising from the chair in a rush. My heart has sunk into my stomach, Greer's news not what I was expecting at all. "Chatton?"

"Aye. Chief. Ye will be chiefton of Clan Chatton until yer dying day. 'Tis a great power, great obligation."

"This is ridiculous," he breathes, rubbing his chest fiercely. "I'm a news anchor. I'm a journalist. I don't know the first thing about Scotland's history! I don't know anything... Ma'am, you are mistaken!"

"Nay, we're not. And we shall teach ye what we ken. Everything possible. You shan't worry about the knowledge- ye will ken it well by the time you set course for home."

"Oh my God," I whisper, placing my hand over my lips contemplatively.

"I'm going to be sick," Symon gasps, heaving. He bounds on route for the door, disappearing into the darkness. I press my lips together, still not sure if I'm dreaming this. I'm still hoping for that- that this is a really elaborate dream.

"I ken well this is a shock to you," Greer says, taking her husbands hand. "This is a tradition in my family, ye ken? This is our purpose. Ma and Da did so when they lived and now, this is our task."

"You're saying there are many others who have traveled to another time?"

"Nay. Every generation has the task of this- once. Which is why it was strange, verra strange that you were also needed for the journey."

"Why am I needed? Do you know? This is his destiny, not mine."

"Ah, but 'tis yours also, honey."

"Why?"

"When I see ye, in visions, you're here."

"Forever?"

"I dinna ken whether it is forever or not. Your future is not so clear as your man's."

"So, I'm basically along for the ride, is what you're saying?" I mutter sarcastically, exhaling loudly.

"All will be revealed in the not so distant future, lass," Knox whispers as Greer hands me a bowl of broth. I look down at it, taking the spoon from her hands without looking away from the leaves floating around in the soup.

I look up and she smiles. "Cabbage. Sorry, 'tis all we have at the moment. Money is scarce in these parts."

"How do I know you are not putting potions- poison, whatever- into this?"

"Ye don't," she hums, setting Symon's down on the table. "It's late... we should speak in the morn."

"Wait- you're leaving us here- alone? I thought this was your house?"

Knox stands, touching her back softly. "Nay, we're up the path. This is my brother's home- he is out of town."

I stand in a rush as she grabs the handle on the door. "What if someone shows up?"

"No one shall tonight. We'll be here at dawn- be prepared to learn."

I stare after her, horrified when they disappear from my sight.

I feel the sensation of a thousand insects thrashing against the walls of my brain, the effects from the "magic stone" and the overwhelming load of information too much to comprehend rationally. I need a drink. I need prescription drugs- oh wait, I no longer have the luxury.

The realization that I'll never see a cosmopolitan again hurts my heart. Not to mention, you know, toilets, warm showers, cars, central air conditioning. This life doesn't hold those luxuries anymore. I shake my head and force myself to try the soup, knowing it may calm my nerves, even just a bit.

It does too. I set the empty dish on the table, staring into the lit fireplace. Symon still hasn't returned and I'm beginning to grow anxious. He- wouldn't leave me... would he?

I walk towards the door and pull it open, sighing with relief when I find him, leaning against the stone wall. I smile softly when he looks up from the ground.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to believe. This- this stuff just doesn't happen," he says, breathing out deeply.

"No, it doesn't... You obviously are a very important person for them to have gone through all this work. I'm- sure it won't be for nothing. You'll get it."

"Will I? Gilly, you're the one who knows Scottish history- the customs. I've lived here my whole life and I know none!"

I rest my hands on his arm, lowering my voice softly. "We'll learn together... get through this together."

He nods, touching my fingers. "Let's go inside."

...

Settled into the bed, the fireplace low, I stare at the ceiling, unable to sleep.

My whole life is gone. Gone. While rather empty, it was still mine. I still loved it- my memories. Do those memories even exist now- now that I don't even exist in that time anymore?

Did we just disappear?

What will our families think?

I sigh, shaking my head. Mine won't even probably know... Who am I kidding? Symon, on the other hand, will be missed. They're probably already looking for him now. And they'll never find him. Never find either of us. We're gone.

"Symon?"

His voice is strong, indicating he hasn't slept either despite the hours that have passed in silence. "Yes?"

I rise onto my elbows, gaping unsurely. "Do you mind-?"

"Come here," he says immediately, knowing what I was going to say. I stand up, hissing when my feet hit the ice cold ground. I tiptoe to the twin bed he's in and get underneath the cover beside him. I sigh, feeling comfort as he pulls me close, resting his hand on my hip.

"I'm scared," I whisper into his neck, closing my eyes.

"I am too."

"Is it horrible that I'm still praying that this is a dream?"

"No... you're not the only one."

"Chief... I mean, that's crazy, Symon. Clan Chatton is one of the largest clans in Scotland. It's an organization of other clans- you'll be the leader of them all."

"How many other clans?"

"I think it was twelve?"

"Holy-"

I chuckle softly, shaking my head. "I'm sorry I ever said we should go to that party."

He hums, squeezing me tighter. "If what this woman says is true, I think she would have found us no matter where we were."

"She said we're going to be learning tomorrow."

"Learning what?"

"I don't know. The customs? How not to get killed?" I say, pressing my lips together tightly. We're in a dangerous time now. In a place that is skeptical of outsiders- I don't think I've even heard of an American in 18th century Scotland.

"I'm probably going to be shunned."

"Shunned?"

"American."

"You don't look American. Besides, if she's telling the truth and I am what she says I am, then I don't think people will dare question you."

I smile softly, touched. "They're going to ask where I'm from. How I came here."

"Then say your family wrote for you and you traveled here by ship. Say you met me by chance and in a very gentleman-like fashion, I offered to escort you home."

I nod, sighing. "Okay... Okay. We can do this. We can."

Safe in the confines of his arms, I feel my body shiver despite itself and I realize sleep isn't an option tonight. 

...

"We're going to educate ye on the ways of this time. Ye cannot go runnin' around dumb as a free bird, expecting to just get it," Greer says, strides before me as we walk through the field, our dresses hiked up to our knees.

I glance around, nervous we'll run into someone.

"Ye dinna want to insult someone and you're likely to anyways with that southern accent."

"I don't have a southern accent," I gasp, unused to this kind of exercise.

"Aye, ye do. Ye just dinna know it."

My eyes roll back into my head as I hurry to keep up with her. "Why are we going so fast?"

"Your muscles are weak. But dinna fash, ye shall be fit soon enough."

What does that even mean?

The trees hang over our heads like clouds, vibrant and untouched by pollution. My eyes wander over the vast forest cover, for the first time, in awe. I'd barely noticed the transformation of land, other than the fact that there were no roads and we now have to trek across the rough plains but now, I feel my strides slow and my mouth curve positively.

This is what I've always longed to see. I've dreamt so many nights of what it would be like to be in history- what it would be like to wear corsets and attend formal gatherings. Of course, these dreams always had me by the side of a strong, honorable highlander but in this moment, this one significant moment, I'm able to appreciate the fact that my dream has just come true.

"There's someone approaching, Gillian. Stay quiet."

And then it's gone. Pulled back into reality by fear, I drop my skirt and slow, swallowing with difficulty as I see two women walking towards us, their hands full, carrying baskets. Upon seeing Greer, they smile, nodding to her in greeting. Their eyes linger onto my face and I force myself to remain calm, smiling slightly.

After a moment, they smile as well, passing by us just as fast as they came.

"You're white as the dead," Greer says suddenly over her shoulder, chuckling. I glare at the back of her head, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"I'm not prepared to meet anyone. I don't know Gaelic. I don't know how people these days speak."

"Well, thankfully, ye have an advantage with that."

"What advantage?"

"Most of these people haven't been outside their village- their clan lands. They willnae ken what an American should speak like. You'll probably just seem even more exotic to them."

"I just want to blend in. I don't want to be exotic."

"You're a beautiful woman, with long, crimson hair... You'll not blend in easy."

"Great," I mutter irritably. "Where is your husband taking Symon anyway? Where are we going?"

"You ask a fair amount of questions, Gillian. Has anyone ever told ye that?"

"Yes, actually... I like to know what I'm getting myself into."

"I'm afraid you'll not know- for a long time to come, possibly. Life in the highlands are never patterned- a day is never the same."

She stops, bending down by a plant. I take the brief moment to lean against a tree to breathe. "But, you know my future? You knew I was going to come here? Couldn't you just tell me what is going to happen?"

She grabs the plant by the roots, raising it up carefully. "Gillian, no one should ken what their life is going to hold."

"And no one should have their life pulled from another, but you did it. You told me to stay away from Symon, yet, you've attached me to him forever!"

"I have done no such thing," she states simply, looking at me. I stare at her, heaving angrily.

"So-so, you just expect me to leave? By myself?"

"... Who says you'll be alone?" she hums softly, starting forward again, leaving me staring after her, stiff to the tips of my toes.