The man in the dark had found out where one was. All he had to do was get to it in time. He did not sleep again that night.
He began pacing, his bare feet making no noise as he made his way slowly back and forth across his bedchamber.
Chapter Twelve
Jock knew how it sounded. “I swear I am speaking the truth.”
To his surprise, Lachlan only nodded in response. “I believe you.”
The two of them sat in the corner of the tavern. The place was less than half full. Most people were busy making preparations for the arrival of the king.
“He’ll be here tomorrow night,” Lachlan said, holding up the silver key and examining it closely. “Do you think you’ll have enough time before then?”
“I dinnae ken whether it will even work or not. What do you think?”
“Many years ago, back when you were naught but a wee bairn, I sat and had a talk with your father about a key much like this one.”
“You did?” Jock said, looking across at his sword master. The man suddenly looked much older than his years, his eyes misty and not just from the wood smoke that drifted out from the hearth.
“Time is a strange thing, he told me. Not as fixed as you might think. Morag had a key like this one, almost exactly the same in fact. Did he tell you where she came from?”
“He mentioned something,” Jock replied, thinking of his father’s story about his wife coming from the future.
“You are the third generation of MacGregors to end up with one of those keys in your hands. You should ken it means something.”
“What?”
“That is perhaps for you to find out.”
“You think I should do it then?”
“I think there are dangers in trying and dangers in not. My concern is that you may not return in time to deal with Robin before the king gets here.”
“If I am to make this journey, it will not be a long one.”
“It might be longer than you think. Time is not always on our side, my laird.”
Jock had cause to remember those words afterward. He lapsed into silence, watching the key closely as Lachlan slid it back across the table toward him.
He slipped it into his pocket alongside the pen she had given him, the one piece of evidence he had that he had not imagined her all along.
He could share his thoughts with no one but Lachlan. Only the sword master would tell him the truth, anyone else would be too afraid of angering the laird to be fully honest with him.
The silver key had opened the door to another time. That was the only explanation that made sense. She had walked through and vanished from his time, presumably to return to her own. The question was could he follow her?
Until the letter arrived, he had no clue what to do. It was the letter that took him to Lachlan to discuss his options.
He had been examining Daisy’s fading footprints on the floor of his bedchamber when a messenger ran up the stairs to him. “For you, my laird.”
Jock took the scroll and broke the seal, unfolding it to find a letter that was unsigned.
The key brought her to you. It will take you to her if you desire. Know this, my laird. The key to her heart is now with you. Make your choice. Choose wisely and the barefoot man will be dealt with once and for all. Choose poorly and none can save you or her.
Jock looked up at the messenger. “Who gave this to you?”
“It was left by the gate just now. There was no one there. We searched well.”
“Search again. Letters dinnae appear out of thin air.” He glanced down at the half footprint in the doorway. Was that as true as he had once thought?
