The book slid off the chair.
It hit the floor with a heavy thud and fell open, pages splaying wide.
Golden light exploded from its center.
It burst upward in a brilliant column, searing my eyes. I threw an arm up and stumbled back. The ticking grewdeafening, a thousand clocks marking time in a thousand different rhythms.
The light expanded, swallowing the chair and spreading toward my feet.
“No!” Portia shouted.
Tavish grabbed her and yanked her against his chest. “Albie!”
The world blurred as I crossed the chamber in a heartbeat. I wrapped my arms around them both, holding tight as the golden light reached us. It blazed around us, bleaching everything white.
And we fell.
Chapter
Twenty-Three
PORTIA
We stumbled onto cold grass. The world spun, and I would have fallen if Tavish and Albie weren’t still gripping me.
“We’re together,” I gasped, relief loosening my knees. The auld stones loomed before us, the monoliths stark gray against the star-filled sky.
Wind howled around the circle, and Tavish tightened his grip around my waist as it tore at our hair and clothes. It cut through my thin sleep shirt and shorts, raising goosebumps on my skin.
“Are you all right?” Tavish yelled over the noise.
I nodded, but my teeth chattered, and the wind pulled tears from my eyes. Albie kept a firm grip on my hand as he squinted up at the stones.
“What time are we?—?”
A crash cut him off.
The three of us spun toward the sound. One of the trash cans from the tourist picnic area tumbled across the ground, spilling paper cups and plastic cutlery across the grass. The wind caught several cups and spun them into the air like confetti.
A fresh wave of relief washed over me. We hadn’t skipped time, just locations.
The wind spun faster. A hum filled the air. When we swung back to the stones, the buzz grew louder.
“I wish I could contact my parents!” I shouted over the screaming wind. “They need to know?—”
A shadow passed overhead, blotting out the moon.
I looked up.
A massive golden dragon descended from the sky, wings spread wide. Fire gleamed in his eyes, and twin rows of black horns curled back from his head like a crown. He landed, and the ground shuddered under my feet. He dwarfed the stones, and his claws dug deep furrows in the earth. He was beautiful and terrible, a massive killing machine.
Dad.
Smoke coiled around him as he shifted, his dragon form dissolving into shadow until King Cormac stood barefoot and shirtless before us, golden fire swirling in his eyes.
“We sensed the disturbance,” he said, his deep voice carrying over the wind.
Two more dragons landed behind him.
