Graham relaxed deeper into the pillows. The soothing blue light of the full moon danced through the swaying tree limbs outside the window, painting a mesmerizing play of light and shadow across the bedroom wall. Bless the man, Alberti, for coming up with the simple plan that no one else could seem to find.
And so, they would go. The three of them. They would honor Mistress Eliza’s last request and scatter her ashes across the Scotland of her girlhood, upon the very rocks where she’d gazed across the sea.
Bless those three,Graham silently prayed. Whilst he and Lilia stole a bit of rest, Angus, Alberti, and Vivienne worked below, gathering and packing all the trip would require.
Alberti had even promised to conjure the exact point of their entry back into the thirteenth century. Quite impressive since the man was not a time runner nor a seer. He’d promised to use some . . . what had the man called it? Some sort ofapp . . .a small colorful picture trapped within the black mirrored surface of his strange tile of metal that turned into a window to thousands of worlds with a mere tap of his finger.
Lilia swore she could target the jump wherever Alberti directed. She said they would land close to where Mistress Eliza’s ashes would be scattered so the entire trip wouldn’t take over a day or so. He’d not missed the shadows of sadness in his sweetling’s eyes when she’d agreed the MacKennas would never know they’d ever been back in the thirteenth century—unless they happened to hear the time portal boom.
Pulling in a heavy sigh, Graham pressed his cheek against the fragrant softness of Lilia’s hair. ’Twas his fault his dear sweet love could not enjoy a wee visit with her family. She’d told him it wouldn’t matter. Told him she would see them another time. After all, she hadn’t had the time to jump back and visit in several months. She said they would understand.
Aye. They would understand but Graham’s heart still ached at the unjustness of it all. Lilia needed her family right now but because of him, she had sworn to avoid them. He closed his eyes and inhaled another deep breath of her sweetness. He’d spend the rest of his life thanking the gods for this woman and ensuring she never regretted her decision to be his wife.
A high-pitchedbeep-beep-beepsounded from her cellphone as it buzzed and bounced across the table beside the bed. Graham forced his eyes open, rubbing the crustiness of weariness from their corners. Lore a’mighty. He had just closed them a moment ago.
Lilia groaned, dragged herself off the edge of the bed, and stumbled across the room toward the adjoining bathroom. A dull thud sounded in the semidarkness just as she reached the door. “Shit!”
Graham lifted his head as the bathroom light flicked on, flinching with sympathy as she hopped through the half-open door, holding her left foot in one hand. “Be ye all right, sweetling?”
“I’mfine.” The door slammed shut and Lilia’s huffing string of curse words accompanied the muffled sound of water running in the sink.
May the gods protect him. He knew that tone. His dear one was anything but fine. She was tired and cross and the safest thing for them all to do to survive this task would be to get some of her blessed coffee down her throat—and quickly.
He rolled out of the bed, forcing his still-weary body into motion by stretching and working free any stiffness. He meandered across the room, jerked open the closet door, and found his clothing from the past. Good. Shield and sword were there as well. He pulled the items free of Lilia’s tangle of boots and shoes then quickly donned them while she was still bumping around the bathroom.
“I’ll be downstairs,mo nighean bhan.” He waited for a response, thinking to call out to her again, but then a deeply ingrained sense of survival changed his mind. Best let his dear one work out her preparations alone.
Alberti, Vivienne, and Angus stood around the kitchen table, double-checking the olive-drab cloth bags filled with the trip’s necessities and Eliza’s oak box. Graham propped his shield against the pile then settled his sword belt lower around his hips.
“Ye ken we’ll be on foot.” Angus, once again wearing his clothes from the past, scowled at Graham from across the table. He lifted his chin to a jutting angle as though daring Graham to argue the point.
“Aye.” Graham kent it well enough but it couldn’t be helped. They daren’t risk a visit to the MacKenna stables—not even if he and Angus were to remain hidden whilst Lilia went alone. “Lilia says she canna control the great boom the time cloud makes whenever it spits us out. ’Tis why we must target the highest point closest to the sea where Eliza wishes to be freed then make our way down from there. ’Twill be less of a risk, less chance we’ll be found out or cause any strife for the MacKenna. Dinna fash yerself. It willna be much of a journey.”
“Did ye not wonder about the sound when Graham and I fell from the sky?” Angus turned to Vivienne as she shouldered him over then boosted her behind up onto the kitchen counter. She slid back, then proceeded to swing her bare feet back and forth in front of the cabinet doors.
“Oh no, ducks.” Vivienne quickly shook her head and shrugged. “When festival is around, Edinburgh fair explodes with sound. Whatever noise the two of ye made was more than likely thought to be fireworks or such from some of the entertainment.”
A slow steady clumping of boots echoed from the stairwell mere moments before Lilia’s yawning countenance rounded the corner. She rubbed an eye with the heel of her hand as she ran a bleary-eyed glance across the items piled on the kitchen table.
The woman was wearing that? Back to the thirteenth century? Graham motioned at her clothing. “Are ye certain ye are dressed proper?” A strained groaning sound escaped him. He didn’t wish to start their trek with harsh words but the woman needed to see sense. “Women dinna wear such things in my time. Ye should ken that well enough. What if someone should see ye?”
She fixed him with a sleepy-eyed scowl then gave herself a quick once-over. “Jeans. Hiking boots. T-shirt. Lightweight camo jacket with big-ass pockets. This is the perfect gear for trekking across the wilderness. It’ll be August there too and if we play our cards right, we won’t run across anyone. No human contact. Remember?”
“Still. Ye are quite certain?” A strange foreboding, a sense of uneasiness took hold in Graham’s gut and gnawed at him like a starving beast. If anyone saw Lilia dressed in such a way, he shook his head at the disturbing possibilities.
Lilia stifled another yawn as she tightened her leather belt and shoved a knife into the attached sheath. “I’m certain.”
She turned to Alberti and Vivienne. “Did you two find the kiddie pool or are we going to have to use the birdbath?”
“Birdbath,” Vivienne said with a sad shake of her head. “I’ve not a clue what Eliza did with the kiddie pool and I’m not brave enough to sort through all the storage bins in the garage.”
“The birdbath’s fine. All I need is enough water and fire to act as a conduit to open the portal.” Lilia hefted one of the bags off the table and strapped it across her back. She lashed a smaller bag around her waist and gently tucked Eliza’s box into it then carefully clicked the double set of buckles shut. Pausing with her hands resting on the bag, she stood staring down at it as though trapped within her thoughts.
“Ducks?” Vivienne stepped forward, gently rubbing her hand up and down Lilia’s arm. “Ye’ll be all right, aye? Be back before we know it . . . yes?”
A troubled expression knotting her brow, Lilia looked at Vivienne for a long moment. Graham tensed even more, feeling as though he were about to wade into battle. His dear one was troubled over a great deal more than just the spreading of Mistress Eliza’s ashes. He felt it in his bones.
“Lilia?” Vivienne whispered, reaching out to take both of Lilia’s hands in hers. “What is it, lovie?”
