Anywhere in Time (Magic of Time Book 2)

by Melissa Mayhue

Or perhaps that explanation would have to wait for just a bit.

  “What a beautiful little house,” Ellen exclaimed as she stepped out of the car.

  Syrie exchanged a few words with the driver and waited silently until he’d taken Ellen’s bags from the car and set them inside the front door.

  “What do you think of the interior?” she asked, holding out an arm to invite her friend inside.

  “Oh!” Ellen’s slow release of breath and sparkling eyes held her answer better than any words. “It’s exactly as I would have decorated it. All blues and yellows. It’s perfect!”

  “I’m glad you like it,” Syrie said, unable to hold back her grin. “That’s a very good thing, too, since it’s yours.”

  “What?” Ellen stopped in her exploration of the little kitchen, her eyes wide with shock.

  “Yes, yours. Not yours and Robert’s. Yours. So that you’ll forever have a place to come be yourself and an excuse to come see me.”

  No matter what choices Ellen made in the next few days, that would always be true.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Ellen managed at last. “I don’t see how I can accept something so expensive.”

  “Pfft,” Syrie dismissed. “Let’s put on a pot of water to heat and we’ll have some tea. Tea, as you once told me, makes everything better.”

  While Syrie heated water, Ellen took her suitcase to the bedroom and, when she returned, they carried their cups to the sofa, settling in for a comfortable chat.

  Well, perhaps not comfortable. What Syrie intended next would likely be anything but comfortable.

  “You never answered my question, you know,” she said, fixing a look on Ellen that made the other woman squirm.

  “What question was that?”

  “The question about your happiness, of course,” Syrie said. “You told me once that you wished you could be as sure of your agreeing to wed Robert as Rosella was in her choice to wed Clint. Do you still feel that way?”

  Ellen sighed, a long, shaky release of breath, as she stared into her cup of tea. “I guess. But that’s only to be expected. Pre-wedding jitters, no doubt. I’m sure I told you about my parents. Danny was so much older when I was born. It was clear from the moment I was old enough to understand what was going on, maybe even earlier, that I was an accident. My parents barely tolerated each other. That’s why I spent so much time with my grandparents. And that’s why their home was so important to me. I just don’t want to end up like my mother. Simply existing from day to day, hating every moment of my life.”

  “I can assure you, Ellen, that is not your path, no matter what choice you make.” Syrie gave her friend’s hand a pat. “But I do have one more gift for you, if you choose to accept it.”

  Ellen was already shaking her head before Syrie finished speaking. “I can’t let you spend anything else on me. The trip here, this wonderful house. I’m already in shock with what you’ve done for me.”

  “There’s no cost to this gift,” Syrie assured her. “What would you say to my offering you the opportunity to make sure that Robert is the right choice for you?”

  Ellen’s hand froze in midair, her cup halfway to her mouth. “How could you do something like that?”

  “Never you mind how,” Syrie answered. “If it were possible, would you be willing to find out?”

  “Absolutely,” Ellen said without pause, setting her cup on the coffee table. “What do I have to do?”

  This was what Syrie loved best about her friend. Ellen was absolutely fearless in her trust of her friends and family.

  “My people believe in a very special Magic. The Magic of True Love, we call it. Every soul has a perfect partner.” Syrie watched Ellen for any reaction, and when there was none, she continued. “The best I can explain it is that these souls are like two halves of a whole. In the ancient days of the Long Ago, those souls were perfectly matched and lived out every one of their lives together. Then came the first of battles for power in the Faerie World. It was so violent that the soul pairings were ripped asunder by those who challenged for control of Wyddecol, my home world. Since that time, many things have changed, but what’s important here, is that so many of those soul pairings are now out of sync. You might be fortunate and find your other half in your own world. Or your other half might have lived in the past so that you have no chance to be together in this lifetime.”

  “Soooo.” Ellen stretched out the word as if she sought time for what Syrie had told her to sink in. “If I understand what you’re saying, if I don’t find my perfect partner in this lifetime, I’ll have another chance later on?”

  “Hopefully,” Syrie answered, determined to be as honest as she could. “But it’s a random thing now. There are no guarantees. The cycles that kept them together have been destroyed.”

  Ellen nodded, her brows drawing together in confusion. “If that’s the case, how can you give me the opportunity to know whether or not Robert is the one for me?”

  Syrie chewed on the corner of her lips, reminding herself that she’d determined before she’d invited Ellen to come here that she wouldn’t sugarcoat what she needed to say in any way.

  “I can tell you now that Robert is not The One for you. He is not your SoulMate. Understand, that doesn’t mean he isn’t your best choice in this life. It simply means that he isn’t the other half that completes you.”

  “How can you possibly know that?” Ellen asked, her hands clenching in her lap. “How can you know that, when I don’t even know that?”

  Finally, something with an easy answer.

  “Because, if he were The One, you wouldn’t need to question it. You’d know. Just like Rosella knew about Clint.” Before Ellen could question her more, Syrie held up a hand to forestall more questions. “I can prove it. If you’re willing to try something completely out of the ordinary.”

  So completely out of the ordinary that she probably shouldn’t even have used the word ordinary in speaking of it.

  “Absolutely, I am,” Ellen said. “What do we do to make this happen?”

  No hesitation at all in her response. No need to think over the offer. More proof that Syrie was right in what she was preparing to do.

  “You go to where and when your True Love lives. Spend some time with him. Decide if life with him is worth giving up everything you know here and now.”

  Ellen’s face seemed to lose a bit of its color. Understandable, considering what it was she must decide.

  “When?” she asked, her voice pitched much higher than usual. “Did you say I’d go to when he lives? When, as in a whole different time?”

  “Of course,” Syrie answered. “If he lived in this time, in the same time you live in, you would already have found one another. I realize this is a daunting proposition. Do you still want to do this? You don’t have to, you know.”

  “I…” Ellen hesitated this time. “Yes, I do. The time thing be damned. If I’m ever going to be happy, I need to know for sure.”

  Syrie smiled at her friend. What Ellen was about to experience would be something that would change her life forever.

  “It’s important for you to understand before we start that there is no wrong choice for you to make. Once you find him, you can stay with him and life will proceed here as it needs to. Or you can return here, to your own time, and live out a happy life with Robert. Perhaps not as happy as you might be with your own other half, but happy enough. You simply need to understand that whatever you decide to do will have far-reaching consequences. Both for you and for your descendants.”

  Ellen’s expression blanked as she considered what she’d heard. “You mean, if I find this perfect man and I decide to stay with him, I could be robbing my children or my grandchildren of the opportunity to find their own perfect SoulMate?”

  Syrie shrugged. “There is no way to know that. You will definitely be changing who and what they are, but that change doesn’t necessarily mean for the worse. Again, there is no wrong choice, only a choice. The future is ri
ddled with paths, all the result of free choice. I can see some of those, but, without knowing each of the hundreds of choices you’ll make over the years, there is no guarantee as to what things will definitely happen. There are only two guarantees I can make to you. One is that, no matter what you decide, this cottage will always be yours, to visit whenever you like.”

  “And the second?” Ellen asked.

  “The second is that I will do my best to see to your happiness and to that of your descendants for as long as I can. I will tell you that, if you return to this place, to follow your current plans, I have seen a future path where your granddaughter will be one day faced with this same choice.”

  Syrie had debated sharing this bit of information, but Ellen deserved as much information as possible to make her decision.

  She could have told her more. Probably should have, at least according to Orabilis. The old Faerie thought Ellen should be warned that her choice to stay with her SoulMate would cause ripples and changes all throughout the timeline.

  To Syrie’s way of thinking, that sort of knowledge placed too large a burden on anyone to allow them to make the choice they really wanted to make. That was the kind of knowledge that you shared to weight the scales of decision making. The kind of knowledge you shared to keep someone from doing something. Just as Orabilis had shared the knowledge with Syrie because she had hoped to prevent Syrie from making this offer to Ellen. As Orabilis had shared because she hoped to dissuade Syrie from pursuing so many of the plans she had for her own future.

  No, she wouldn’t tell Ellen everything. Only what she needed to know to convince her that she was free to choose whichever path would make her happier.

  “If I stay there, will my granddaughter find her SoulMate in her own time?” Ellen asked, pulling Syrie from her thoughts.

  “That I cannot say. I have not seen that granddaughter along any of those paths,” Syrie answered honestly.

  Ellen took another sip of her tea and once again set the cup on the table, a smile lighting her face when she looked up. “A lot to keep in mind when I make my decision, yes? Okay, then. Let’s get the ball rolling, Syrie. I’m ready whenever you are.”

  Syrie stood and held out her hand, drawing Ellen to the door and outside. “Just a short hike to a lovely arbor where you’ll start your journey.”

  A journey that might take Ellen anywhere in time.

  EPILOGUE

  Bield Cottage, Scotland

  Present Day

  “And that, my dear, is the story of everything that led up to your being here at Bield Cottage today.”

  Emily Evans stared at the lovely older woman sitting next to her, unable to put words together in any sort of coherent way. A Faerie world in political upheaval? Time travel to join souls intended to be together? How could that woman possibly sit there so calmly, as if she’d just spoken of the weather or some humdrum drive in the country?

  Emmie had known there was something unusual about Syrie MacDowylt from the moment she’d first met the woman. Granted, something so far out of the realm of possibility as the story this woman had just told her would explain how, seven hundred years ago, the wife of the third laird of MacKillican could have had the exact same name as Annie, Emmie’s cousin, who had died so mysteriously six months ago. It had been Annie’s death that had led to Emmie coming here to Bield Cottage as the caretaker of this property.

  Syrie’s fantastic story could indeed explain the strange coincidence if it had any basis in reality, that is. Which it didn’t. It couldn’t! The story Syrie had just recounted of how she’d come to know Annie and her grandmother Ellen was beyond anything Emmie could ever have imagined. Like Faeries and Magic and time-traveling adventures, the woman’s story couldn’t be anything other than sheer fantasy.

  With a patient smile, Syrie put down her cup and rose to her feet, extending a hand down to Emmie. “Come take a walk with me, my dear. I’ve something I’d like to show you.”

  Emmie accepted Syrie’s hand and stood, following along out the door and toward the woods.

  “Where are we going?” Emmie asked after several moments of silence. “What is it that you want me to see?”

  “We’re headed toward the castle. I’ve something there that I think might help you to accept the truth of all the things I’ve told you today. And, to carry on with my plans for Bield Cottage and your staying here, it’s important to me that you believe. More than important, actually. It’s a necessity.”

  For the first time since Emmie had responded to the knock on the door this morning to find Syrie standing there, she felt a tremor of fear ripple through her stomach. Was Syrie trying to tell her that she had decided against allowing Emmie to remain as the caretaker? Even the thought of having to leave this place brought a sheen of tears to her eyes.

  In the past six months she’d come to love this place as if she’d been born to live here. She’d just signed the lease on a tiny shop in the village, where she planned to display and sell the jewelry she created. Everything was finalized except the last of the paperwork, waiting only for her to choose a name for her shop. In her short time here, she’d known a sense of freedom and peace she’d never experienced anywhere else. Being forced out now would surely break her heart.

  “Don’t be such a silly girl,” Syrie muttered before turning, that patient smile of hers once again in place. “Look ahead on the path and tell me what you see.”

  Though Emmie couldn’t imagine how it could possibly convince her to believe Syrie’s story, she did as she was asked. “We’ve reached the ruins of Castle MacKillican. We’re standing where I imagine the gates originally stood.”

  “Very good,” Syrie said. “Now, keep your eyes fixed in front of you.”

  “What is it you think—”

  The question Emmie had been about to ask evaporated on her lips as the world in front of her shifted, going slightly out of focus before it hazed over, as if she viewed it through a pair of green lenses. In the next moment, much like a curtain being drawn back, everything cleared. Only, as the scene sharpened, it wasn’t ruins of a castle in front of her but a fully intact, beautifully kept castle, surrounded by a lawn of green where goats wandered. A small, moat-like stream surrounded the perimeter of the castle walls, with a short bridge leading from the path, over the water, and into the massive open gate.

  “What is this place? Where did it come from?” Emmie asked, finding it somewhat difficult to stand without grabbing on to something.

  With a laugh that tinkled like musical bells, Syrie placed a strong arm around Emmie’s shoulders, lending support. “It didn’t come from anywhere. It’s always here, in the Between. This is my home.”

  “The Between?” Emmie asked, lifting a hand to rub her eyes, just in case she was seeing things. “What is that?”

  “The Between is…” Syrie paused and shrugged, as if searching for an answer Emmie might understand. “It is the space between the Mortal Plain, your world, and Wyddecol, the world of the Fae.”

  “I don’t understand any of this,” Emmie said. “I’ve walked these grounds a thousand times. I’ve never seen this before. I’ve never seen anything even remotely like this before.”

  “Well, of course you haven’t,” Syrie said, a little wrinkle on her brow. “The Between isn’t a place open to visitors from either world. You can’t simply wander in here. You must be invited into this place, as I have invited you.”

  “There were ruins here,” Emmie protested. “Just minutes ago.”

  “They’re still there,” Syrie said patiently. “In your world. Do you believe now?”

  Emmie didn’t know what to believe now. But she did know that everything she’d thought was an absolute truth when she got out of bed this morning probably wasn’t. And if she could be so wrong about everything, then what better explanation than the one Syrie had given her?”

  “I do.”

  How could she not? The proof had flickered into reality right in front of her own two eyes.

>   “Wonderful,” Syrie said, her voice tinged with something that sounded suspiciously like relief. “In that case, I’ve one more thing to show you.”

  Again the world shifted. This time Emmie was prepared for the change and realized it was almost like sitting in the chair taking an eye exam, with the lenses being switched quickly for you to choose the better option between A or B.

  “We’re back in my world, right?” she asked.

  The ruins in front of her should have answered her question, but with what she’d experienced today, she wanted the confirmation.

  “Yes,” Syrie said. “I want to show you the guest-house.”

  “What guest-house?” Emmie asked before she could stop herself.

  Again Syrie’s laughter tinkled through the forest. “Don’t worry, dearest Emmie. I should have said the location of the future guest-house. The workmen will begin arriving tomorrow. They have assured me it will take no longer than four months to complete, weather willing. The delay will give us time to work out what new duties you’ll have once it’s done.”

  “New duties?”

  “Absolutely,” Syrie said. “As our caretaker, you’ll be indispensable in helping to make sure the people who come here to stay find their happiness. Annie was spot on in choosing you for this position before she left. I can’t imagine anyone would be better to assist me.”

  Syrie gave her a quick hug and then rambled on about the building process, but Emmie only half listened. Her heart filled with the knowledge that she’d apparently passed Syrie’s test and would be allowed to remain at Bield Cottage. In the course of the past hour, she’d gone from near heartbreak to realizing her heart’s desire.

  In that moment, it was as if all the tumblers fell into place and she knew what she would name her shop.

  “Of course you do, dear Emmie,” Syrie said, as if they’d been carrying on a conversation all along. “I think Heart’s Desire is the perfect name. We’ll start the advertising right away. I’m sure it will help in drawing the right people our direction.”