The wind of return began its insistent pull even as she struggled to continue forward. Therehadto be another path. One she’d somehow missed that would lead Chase safely back to her.
Instead, ahead in the distance, a patch in the Myst revealed Tordenet, her tower in flames.Screams drifted to her ears, screams she knew to be her own.
But which path did this lie upon? She could not decipher where or how it connected beneath the Myst-covered maze any more than she could resist the force pulling her away from the knowledge she sought.
Her eyes lifted to seek the glowing rip in the tapestry of the future, the hole where Chase’s life thread had been altered. It seemed to lie in a different direction than it had before. It and another very much like it. And yet another.
The sprinkling of dark holes across the web of time could mean only one thing: his was not the only life thread that had been altered in the vast landscape of the tapestry!
Her feet touched the ground and the door between her world and this one shimmered. With so much to consider, she did not resist when the force pushed her gently toward the opening.
What could they mean, those shiny, tattered holes in the tapestry of the future? Was it possible that Chase had been right? Perhaps the choices woven by the Norns were not the only pathways into the future after all.
OceanofPDF.com
Thirty-three
I’VE A BADfeeling about this place, Hugo. We should go now, while we still can.” Mathew MacFalny pulled his cloak tight around him in a useless attempt to ward off the shiver that wracked his body.
“You’ve made yer feelings clear. As you did yer desire to remain with the Tinklers. But as I told you then, when the MacDowylt learns what news we bring to him, the Tinklers’ wagon will be precious little haven.”
Yet Hugo hadn’t hesitated to leave their cousin Eleyne behind to face the wrath of the powerful MacDowylt right along with the Tinklers who’d been so kind to them.
“I dinna like that we abandoned our instruments.” Mathew debated risking his brother’s anger yet again. “Or Eleyne.”
“Once we finish with the MacDowylt, we’ll have no need for either instruments or a lamed dancer.” Hugo turned on him, wearing the look that so often crossed his face before he meted out a beating. “I’d think you’d be fawning all over yerself to show somegratitude for my bringing you along, you witless cur. We’ll be men of wealth when we leave this place, you mark my words. Now go. Leave me to deal with Tordenet’s laird.”
With one last look over his shoulder, Mathew stepped into the early-morning shadows of the hall and made his way into the back passageway.
The night of their performance, a young maid, drunk on ale and the charms of his music, had told him this way led to the laird’s private rooms.
Something in Mathew’s gut warned him Hugo’s plan would not go well. And without his pipes to provide him a living, he hoped to find something of value to carry away from this awful place.
He sent up one prayer for Eleyne’s safety, followed by a second prayer that his instincts would prove wrong for once. But things that he sensed too frequently came to pass, so he forged ahead to locate the stairs that had been described to him and disappeared into their lightless gloom, knowing the time might have come when he’d need to fend for himself.
“LAIRDMACDOWYLT! PLEASE!”
Torquil rolled from his bed, confused as to where he was until his bare feet hit the cold stone floor. His own bedchamber, with the voices of all those women tormenting his dreams.
“Laird MacDowylt?”
That voice was certainly no dream.
He rose to his feet, his body stiff and cold. A glance around the room confirmed that the fire had long ago burned out, leaving not so much as a single live ember behind.
How long had he slept?
“Laird MacDowylt!”
“Quiet yer damned pounding,” he yelled in response, his wits fully returned at last.
From the location of the sun and the condition of his fireplace, not to mention the stiffness of his body, he’d say he’d likely slept through the whole of yesterday and the night as well.
And though the beast felt calm, his own mood was foul enough for both of them.
“For what reason do you dare disturb my peace, woman?” he demanded, throwing open the door.
The servant shrank back, dipping her head as she scooted away. “Begging yer pardon, but there’s a man belowstairs, my lord. A man insisting he must speak with you immediately.”
