But Malcolm knew it was no myth. It was the truth. And Evie held one piece of the ancient and fabled keystone. One piece that belonged to a larger piece. One piece that MacDonald would kill to get his hands on.
“No a myth,” Duncan said. “It is said the Triple Goddess shattered the Chronos Stone into three pieces to keep it safe from those who would use it for evil.”
His father lifted a faded red brow. “The Triple Goddess?”
“Past, Present, Future,” Duncan said, sounding as though he was sure of his answer.
Malcolm nodded, though, because he knew the younger Sinclair was right.
“And what happened then, lad?” Angus asked, the light of amusement flickering through his eyes.
“They sent the three pieces to the far reaches of Scotland,” he said. “Only to be found when it was needed once again.”
This was a part of the story Malcolm had not heard. He listened in rapt fascination.
“Then, when the time came, the Goddess of the Present would find a way to give it to the one clan who would be able to protect it,” Duncan continued.
“And what clan is that?” Angus asked.
“Clan MacLeod.” The younger man gave Malcolm a pointed look.
Angus snapped his head in his direction. “Clan MacLeod.”
“Aye,” Malcolm said, nodding agreement. “But I’ve heard it as two bloodlines, one destiny. The Sinclairs’ and the MacLeods’ destinies are intertwined. The lass is a Sinclair.”
There was a long silence and then Angus burst into laughter. “Aye, then, the lass is the protector of this magical stone?”
“Aye,” Malcolm and Duncan said in unison.
That stopped Angus’s laughter. He clenched his jaw, the muscles flexing there and turned his attention back to theroad ahead. His mannerisms indicated he didn’t believe the prophecy. Callum hadn’t either for the longest time until Evie convinced him that she was the one to bring the keystone back in time to protect it from the MacDonalds.
“We best make haste, boy,” Angus said. “Yer mam will be waiting for our return.”
Then he kicked his horse into a gallop, putting distance between Malcolm and Duncan and the rest of the men. The younger Sinclair cut a glance at Malcolm.
“He doesna believe,” he said.
Malcolm took in a deep breath, exhaled it. “Then mayhap it’s up to ye to convince him.”
In the distance, billowing smoke caught his eye. The gray-and-white column curled into the sky. Ahead of them, Angus halted his horse, his gaze on the smoke ahead.
“Da, what is it?” Duncan called.
He cut a glance back to his son. “The village.”
Then he kicked his horse into a gallop in the direction of the smoke. Malcolm and Duncan exchanged a glance before doing the same. Behind them, the men followed. It didn’t take them long to come upon the village.
It was burned to the ground.
CHAPTER 6
It had taken some time to go through the village to count the dead. There weren’t many, so it looked as though most of the inhabitants had made it out. Once the men had buried the dead, they continued on to Angus Sinclair’s castle. The men scattered and returned to their own homes, leaving Malcolm and the two Sinclair men.
Seeing the acrid smoke, the burned-out homes, and the dead made Malcolm think of his own raid on the MacDonald village. The one which had gotten him banished from Dundale. He, however, had made sure no one perished in the fire.
Angus’s face was hard, his jaw clenched and his lips in a thin line. It was clear he was angry about the raid and even angrier that people had perished. Malcolm followed him through the gatehouse into the bailey.
“I should return to Dundale to report this to Callum,” Malcolm said.
