Page 59 of Alec

Even if our War Master found a bunch of naked supermodel ladies in a hot tub, Ben had joked right after Olivia had arrived, he’d just turn and walk in the other direction.

Out loud she said, “I’d like to find a cup of coffee here in the solar, right now.”

“Why do you wish for such?” her husband chided. “Naught from your time can come into the trap unless ’tis brought in by an outsider.”

Acting entirely on instinct, Ava looked around the solar. “Well? I saw you waving at me before on the wall. You wanted me to see this, to show me what you can do while I’m not distracted. Now prove I’m right.”

A pottery mug of a dark, steaming liquid suddenly appeared on the ground next to the hot tub. When she would have picked it up Tasgall stopped her and leaned over to retrieve the mug. He lifted it to his nose and sniffed it.

“Please tell me that’s coffee,” she couldn’t help begging.

He took a sip and grimaced. “No, my love. ’Tis something like burnt dandelion.”

Ava held out her hand, and when he gave her the drink, sampled it. “Laws, that’s good, but you’re right, it’s herbal. Likely as close to coffee as you could get from what you had in Scotland in the twelfth century.”

“You drink such in your time?” He made a comical face.

“I don’t make fun of your love of haggis, sir,” she reminded him. “Don’t insult my cup of sorta-kinda joe.” She sipped the drink again as she walked around the solar. “This proves that someone or something is listening to what we say, and making the things we want appear. This solar must have been created because someone talked about hothouses. Now the hot tub and the coffee substitute.”

“’Twas our chatelaine who spoke of hothouses,” Tasgall told her, and then looked as if he wished he hadn’t mentioned it.

“I’ve heard rumors that before I came here you and Inga were lovers.” As guilt appeared on his face Ava nodded. “I had a lover before you, too, and if he hadn’t been killed in the line of duty I would have married him. We’re even.”

“Aye, only my former lover yet lives here at the stronghold.” Tasgall rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you reckon the things we desire appear as do the things we use from our stores?”

“I don’t think so.” She glanced around the solar again, looking for something present that hadn’t been before now. “This is more personal than the castle resetting every morning. This is like someone is trying to make us happy—or happier.” Like Torra MacBren, who had been in Olivia’s dream, but how, and why? If she believed like everyone else that Tasgall had murdered her parents back in the twelfth century, why would she be trying to do anything nice for his clan?

Her husband frowned. “Could Rory possess such power?”

That was another possibility, even stronger because the armorer had already demonstrated he could use magic.

“I don’t know, but Rory isn’t here. Once we get out of this white world, we’ll have to take a hard look at all the improvements the castle has made to itself.” She finished the mug of roasted dandelion tea and set it down where it had appeared. Instead of refilling itself or vanishing, the mug turned white. “Look at that.”

As the white color of the mug began to crackle Tasgall took hold of her arm and drew her away. “Be careful, love.”

Ava didn’t grow alarmed until the white plants, floors and walls of the solar started to do the same thing.

The sound coming from the other end of the passage made Alec think of bees buzzing along as they flew from flower to flower in the gardens. Beside him Olivia uttered a small cry as Rory stepped out of the shadows with huge metal shields strapped to both arms.

“Run,” was all he whispered to them.

A huge cloud of ice golachs came flying at the armorer, who turned and blocked the passage with his shields and his huge body. He didn’t move or make a sound as they crawled all over him, leaving trails of the glassy material they had used to freeze their other victims, which spread to encase him.

“Hurry,” Alec said, tugging on her arm.

The clicking of the insects’ legs followed right behind them, but Alec didn’t look back as he shouldered his bow, shoved his arrows back into his quiver, swept Olivia off her feet and ran up the stairs with her. She clung to him, hiding her face against his neck until he reached the top landing. He pulled open the door just a gap to look inside the tower.

The entire room looked as if it had been dipped in glass. A huge hole had been made in one wall around what appeared to be an ice beetle the size of a cow.

Alec put down Olivia and readied his bow. “She’s in there. Stay here until I dispatch her.”

“Not on your life,” she said, opening the door wider and stepping inside.

Swallowing a curse, Alec followed, targeting the matriarch.

The giant white insect moved its eyes to look at them, and stone crumbled around it as it began to swell with dozens of small bulges on its back. Alec saw Olivia go so pale her eyes looked like burned holes in her face.

“Take the salt,” he told her, taking the pouch from his belt, and opening it to pour some salt into Olivia’s hand before eyeing the golach and drawing his bow. “Fling it on her, and then move aside.”