Magnus raised an eyebrow. “I may be stupid but I dinna have a death-wish. I wasnae tracking them in order to attack, but to find evidence.”
“Evidence of what?”
“Of who they are working for. The pattern of the attacks speak of a plan and a strategy behind them. Someone is directing them and I was hoping to discover who that was.”
“And did you?”
“Perhaps.”
She sensed reluctance in his voice but she wasn’t about to let up. The more she knew about all this, the more chance she might have of figuring out what was going on.
“The limping man that woman described?”
Magnus looked up, meeting her eyes in the gloom. It was a while before he rumbled, “Aye.”
Magnus had reacted strangely to the woman’s description of the limping man. He’d looked uneasy. Why would that be? Unless...
“You know who he is, don’t you?”
He looked away and didn’t answer for a long moment. Then reluctantly, he said, “I suspect.”
“Well?” Izzy prompted. “Who?”
“The name would mean naught to ye, lass.”
“Then there’s no harm in telling me is there?”
He sighed. “Ye are quite the persistent one aren’t ye? Fine. I suspect the man behind these attacks is someone called Lord McRae.”
The name meant nothing to her, just as Magnus had predicted. In fact, it only confused her further. “So why didn’t you tell the villagers that? Why did you let one of them beat ten bells out of you for something that’s not your fault? And for that matter, why don’t you tell the police—or whatever passes for that around here—who you think is behind these attacks?”
“It isnae as easy as that, lass,” he replied. “Lord McRae is a member of the nobility and ye dinna go around accusing the nobility without proof. That’s why I was tracking those raiders. I was hoping to find evidence I could present to the king.”
“And then the king will stop them?”
“Aye, that is my hope, although the king has many other things to occupy his attention. But if not the king, then perhaps the Order of the Osprey. They canna act without evidence. If I can give them that...” He spread his hands wide, leaving the sentence unfinished.
The king of Scotland. The Order of the Osprey. Outlaws and thatched villages. Horses as a means of transport. She would have laughed at the insanity of it all if it wasn’t so damned terrifying.
She suddenly felt very, very homesick. What would she be doing if she was in her apartment right now? Probably running a bath, or reading a book, or cooking dinner. Something simple. Something normal. Instead, here she was sitting amongst the straw in a drafty fifteenth century barn with a hulking Highland warrior for company. Had she called it insane? That hardly seemed an apt word to encompass everything that had happened today.
Magnus was watching her intently, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I think I know a way to get ye home, lass,” he murmured.
Izzy blinked, caught off guard by the sudden admission. “You do?”
Magnus leaned forward, his eyes catching the light from the lantern outside. “Ye are not the first time-traveler that the Order has encountered,” he said quietly, as though he didn’t want his voice to carry beyond the barn. “There are others. Some have even chosen to remain here, in this time. If anyone can figure out how to send ye home, it is my Order.”
Izzy gasped in surprise. There were others from the twenty-first century? She wasn’t alone? She worked her jaw a few times before she managed to squeak, “Where are these other time-travelers?”
“In Dun Saith,” he replied. “The headquarters of my Order. Tomorrow...” He trailed off, staring out into the darkness beyond the doorway. “Tomorrow I will take ye there.”
“You...you would do that?”
His eyes found hers. “Ye didnae ask for any of this, lass. Aye, I will see ye safely to Dun Saith and from there, ye can find a way home.”
Izzy breathed out slowly, closing her eyes as relief flooded through her. Home. She would soon be home. Yet, for some reason, Irene MacAskill’s words echoed through her head again.
There will soon come a time when ye must decide who ye are and what ye wish to be. Whether ye will choose to be the ordinary person ye think ye are or the extraordinary one that lies within.
