“Malcolm, wait!” Evie called out, but he ignored her.
He didn’t want to turn back. His first priority was to get Chloe warm. The only way he knew to do that was to put her in his bed.
He kicked open the door, crossed the room in two long strides, and lowered her down to the soft mattress. She didn’t even stir when he pulled off her shoes, then covered her with the heavy blankets. Then he quickly built a fire in the hearth. A faint moan from the bed got his attention.
He hurried over to her, sitting on the side of the bed. Her eyes fluttered open, fixing on his. First confusion, then worry as she tried to sit up.
“Rest, lass.”
“The keystone—”
“I have it. It’s safe.”
Relieved, she melted back into the pillows and closed her eyes. “I know what happened, Malcolm. The night of the Shattering. I know why his great axe was glowing.”
He stiffened, a coldness settling over him. He brushed a lock of her auburn hair off her forehead.
“Ye dinnae have to tell me now.”
“I do,” she insisted. “His great axe can open a time portal.”
He stilled. “How?”
“I don’t know. I only know he tried to open one the night of the Shattering. It’s a portal to the Realm of Chaos, causing a temporal rift. That’s why the Triple Goddess broke the keystone into three pieces. They used the power to mend the rift and close the portal. Or they tried to. The rift was only stitched back together.”
He didn’t understand what a temporal rift was or where the Realm of Chaos was located. But he did understand it didn’t sound good. Her voice was weak. She sounded exhausted.
“Rest now.”
She rose up, gripping his wrist with cold fingers. “They had to stop him. Don’t you see? If they hadn’t, then all would be lost. The MacDonald clan would control Time. The lightning in the tapestry was from his weapon, not from Moira as we thought. I have to tell Evie.”
Fear embedded deep into her eyes. Fear at what she’d witnessed. He understood then. If Brodie MacDonald had used the power of the great axe over five hundred years ago, what, then, would stop Rory MacDonald from using it in this time?
She tried to get out of the bed, but he pushed her back down.
“Ye need rest. Yer too weak to move.”
He started to rise and leave the bed when she reached out for him, grasping him by the hand and squeezing tight.
“Don’t leave me, Malcolm.”
It gave him pause. He lowered back down to the edge of the bed. She blinked up at him with her big green eyes fringed in dark lashes and some long-burning question buried deep inside them. Her thumb traced over the back of his hand.
“Do you believe in prophecy?” she asked, her voice quiet in the silence of the room. “I need to know.”
He could tell it was a question that haunted her. A question she needed him to answer, to put her mind at ease.
“Och, lass, ye sound like Callum. He dinnae believe, either, until yer sister arrived. Do ye no believe?”
She released his hand and turned away. “I don’t know what to believe.”
He took a deep breath, loosed it. “I grew up hearing stories from my da about the keystone, the night of the Shattering and that we were destined to be the protectors of this stone. He liked to tell it after he’d been deep in his cups.”
He chuckled, recalling the many times his da had told the tale in a drunken stupor. As a young boy, he had been enamored with the stories. He had envisioned himself as a knight protecting the keystone. He’d never envisioned the keystone would be brought to him by a bonnie lass such as Chloe.
She rolled to her side, then, and propped up on one elbow, gazed up at him. “What about destiny? Do you believe in that?”
He thought he understood then where this was all coming from. Mayhap she wanted some reassurance that everything happening was for a reason. That she was destined to hold the keystone and he was destined to protect her with his life.
