He hesitated, his fingers hovering over the knot. “And…what do I tell yer sisters should anything happen to ye?”
That was a good question. She bit her lower lip. “Tell them I insisted. That I wanted to seek the truth about my vision. None of that will be necessary, though, because I’ll be fine.”
He looked less than convinced but went about untying the knot on the linen bandage anyway. With a slow and careful touch, he unwound it. The cool air of the chamber hit her wound, making her suck in a sharp breath. The slice in her palm still oozed.
“Chloe said when she had her vision, she and Malcolm were touching. Perhaps that would help keep me grounded.”
She rose to her full height and placed the stone in the center of her bleeding palm. “Take my hand, Jamie.”
He did, lacing their fingers. Her hand closed around the stone and then they waited.
Nothing happened. She counted her heartbeats as she waited, listening, holding her breath. Her gaze flickered up tohis intense one. She had almost given up when the stone began to hum against her palm.
“Something’s happening,” she whispered “I think—”
The world spun into nothing but blurred motion and light, smearing along the edges of her vision. In the air directly in front of her, a stream of light shimmered as though the very space ahead of her was pulling apart. Light seeped through the crevices.
She stood on the craggy hill with her sisters. In her hand, the keystone, whole and glowing and humming. Before her, the horde of men with their swords and spears and other sharp weapons. At the head of it, MacDonald holding aloft his glowing great axe.
“Ye cannae think to defeat me, lass,” he shouted from his mount. “I come to finish what my ancestor started. I will summon the darkness and take over these lands.”
He slashed his great axe through the air where the light glittered, cleaving through time and space. Sparks burst, like fireworks in the sky, and then the seam exploded with light and opened. All manner of dark creatures poured out into the world. Winged ones. Fanged ones. Horned ones. Evil ones.
The army charged. Jamie and his brothers went into action. She watched, helpless, as all three of the MacLeod brothers rushed toward the swarm to attack.
“Do something, Brianna!” Evie said.
But what? What could she do?
They never made it to attack MacDonald and his army. They were all three slaughtered by the creatures of the night.
A scream ripped from her throat. Next to her, both Evie and Chloe cried out with their distress.
“Now you see the future,” the woman said. It was the same voice who had spoken to her before.
“Who are you?” Brianna demanded.
“Athea is my name. I am the Goddess of the Future.”
She lifted her arms out from her sides, her palms upward toward a sky shrouded in darkness. When she did, everything around the two of themslowed, the blurring motion coming to a crawl.
“I have the power of the Future, as do you.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means, Brianna of Clan Sinclair, you have the power within you to shift the timeline, to prevent or bring about certain destinies.” She motioned to the strange creatures continuing to pour through the rip in time. “You can change this outcome, now that you’ve seen it. You know what MacDonald will do. And you know how to prevent it. For if you do not, you will all die.”
“I don’t—”
Athea turned back to her, clutched her by the shoulders. “You do. Never forget that. You are prepared for what is to come. Fight the darkness. Save the land.”
The vision ended. Brianna groaned with the pain lancing through her from head to toe. When she opened her eyes, she realized she was cradled against Jamie’s chest and they were on the floor by the hearth. The tray had been knocked off. Food scattered along the floor. Ale pooled in a puddle.
“I’ve got ye.” He clutched her tight.
So tight. Being in his arms made her feel safe. She reached up with her good hand, clutching his tunic in her fist. He smelled of leather and heather.
“Are ye all right, lass? What did ye see?”
