“Kait—” A guard punched him on the side of the head and yanked him still.
I attempted to stand. “Magnus, they found you?” Lord Delapointe grabbed me by the wrist and forced me back to my chair.
“I came when ye dinna return, I came tae—“
“He killed Ewan. Oh my god, Magnus, it was awful—“
Lord Delapointe said, “Ah, isn’t this wonderful, a reunion? Yes, yes, Magnus, you’ll be glad to hear your cousin paid for the harm he caused Kaitlyn. I’m certain you will be thankful.”
Magnus spit on the floor.
The two guards yanked him erect. His neck muscles pressed outward, his body trembled with rage. I thought for a moment he might go Incredible Hulk and bust through his ropes, but he couldn’t; he was a man not a superhero. And this was an overwhelming mess.
Lord Delapointe said “Tell your husband about the deal we just made.”
I wasn’t fully aware we had agreed to anything, but I had gotten the gist. “I’m going to travel to the future with him—“
“Nae Kaitlyn.”
“And I’m going to help him get some weapons to bring back. He has promised he’ll release you when we return—“
“Kaitlyn, tis a dangerous idea. Ye canna—“
“I’ll do this one thing, and then we can be together.”
Lord Delapointe said, “Good, so we are all agreed.”
Magnus said, “I am nae agreed. Kaitlyn, I told ye I could handle this. Daena make any deals.”
Lord Delapointe walked around the back of my chair and disappeared in the darkness. He reappeared behind me, barely illuminated, near the window looking out over the square below.
Magnus, gestured with his hands for me to come to the space right in front of him. He mouthed, “Come here.”
I took a deep breath. “Lord Delapointe, he has blood dripping down his face. Please let me clean his wound. I have a bandage in my bag.”
I could hear what sounded like a drawer opening and paper rustling. He said, “No.”
“You have assured me you are not a brutal man, that you are dignified, even royal. It’s no secret I believe you’re a complete and total sack-of-shit ass-clown, but this is your chance to prove me wrong. We have a deal. I’m asking as your step-daughter to give me the chance to put a bandage on my husband’s face before I go away.”
Papers flicked, a book slammed. “Fine, fine.”
The two hulking guards flanked Magnus, keeping him under control.
I went to the small side table and sifted through my bag’s contents grabbing a couple of things: a bandaid, the antibiotic cream. I went to my husband, stood before him, and looked down. “Hello Love.”
Blood dripped down his upturned face. One eye was swollen closed from the ass-kicking he just received.
“Mo reul-iuil, tis a fine mess we art in.”
“Yes, he’s a real dipstick so there’s that. Maybe the biggest one I’ve ever known. Probably in history.”
Magnus chuckled.
I tilted his face and pressed close to his front to steady him, me. “You have a gaping wound here Magnus, your face is not going to be as pretty.”
I pulled up the front of my skirts and wiped the edges of his wound and then squeezed a bit of ointment on my finger.
I smeared it realizing that literally everything I was doing was full on filthy, but what choice did I have? I had to hope the ointment was stronger than the bacteria.
And it wasn’t really about the bandaid at all —
It was about the broad cold steel of my knife as it slid past my calf. Magnus’s bound hands pulling it free from the sheath he had attached there hours before.
My hands shook as I peeled the paper off the bandaid, spread it out, and pressed it to his skin.
He hid his hands holding the knife in the folds of my skirt. “Tis nae horseshit.”
“Tis nae.” I agreed.
Lord Delapointe asked, “What’s that?”
Magnus growled, “Before you take my wife and possibly my life, I intend tae tell her I love her.” He looked up at me, “Strong as an oak, near a stone wall, aligned with a castle tower.”
I nodded that I understood. I kissed his forehead as Lord Delapointe said, “Well, enough of that, we have a trip to make daughter.”
Magnus said, “I will see ye on the other side.”
I smiled at him, a sad smile, full of not knowing, and fear, and what-if-this-doesn’t-work, but it had to, because this was it.
I stepped away to the side table that held my purse. I scooped the cards and wallet inside, slung it over my shoulder, and kept the keys in my fist.
Because I had learned a valuable lesson in college — one of the best of them all. That if it’s late at night and you have a murderous monster rapist-creep following you, or harassing you, or scaring the ever-loving shit out of you, put a key between each finger. Poking out of your knuckles they make the closest thing you might have to an excellent weapon.
And what I needed right now was an excellent weapon.
Chapter 26
Lord Delapointe snarled to his guards. “You can take him to his cell now.”
And I knew it was time for me to act. I walked through the darkness toward where I had last heard Lord Delapointe’s voice and following my training, which had been to: One, swing first, using surprise as your element. And two, swing from low, near your hip, stepping forward to give your weak girl-arms momentum. And three, do it, Kaitlyn, do it, just do it already, Magnus is going to — I stepped forward and swung hard, up, fast, with all my strength, aiming right for the soft part on the neck just under Lord Delapointe’s chin.
I wished there might be a giant, cartoon, Kapow! noise, but no, my fist glanced off his jaw knocking him off guard but without much more damage than a scrape. But as he twisted toward me, outraged, yelling, I frantically swept my hands over the table beside us. I could barely see at all, but there was something, a thick, metal, what was it? A metal tower, pole, thing. I raised it over my shoulder like a softball bat and swung, hard, aiming for his head and producing an epic and disgusting sound — Thunk! Not as satisfying as a ‘kapow,’ but equally effective. He stumbled and fell to his knees grasping for my skirts.
I spun around — Magnus was in full battle with a guard with swords.
He yelled, “Run, Kaitlyn!”
I ran, stumbling over a fallen, probably dead, totally lifeless guard on my way to the door. Seeing nothing around me but black darkness. Hearing the yells and bellows and bloody curses of my husband fighting behind me.
I slammed through the door into a hall that was so fucking pitch black I wondered if I might have died back there. I glanced behind me. The room glowed compared to where I was now — complete and total blackness.
I put my hands out and rushed in the direction I believed we had come from earlier. I felt my way along walls, careful to watch my step on the uneven stone floor. Behind me, in the room down the hall, the fighting raged.
I found a small recessed area and pressed into it. I pawed through my bag for my iPhone, and turned on my flashlight. I peeked out of the recess, shining the light up and down the hall. I was still totally alone.
I swung the light about ten feet in front of me, checked my way, then hid it in my skirts while I ran a few steps. Then I checked again, repeating the process, check, rush, check, rush, until I found the top of stairs.
I raced down holding the wall. A few steps and I tripped, dropping my phone with a cracking sound — shitshitshit — the flashlight still worked — thankyouthankyouthankyou.
I reached the bottom floor and peered around the corner. It was another long hallway, torches lining the walls, but their light was shoddy and spotty. If I hustled from point to point, I could get to the doors at the end. But that was not where I wanted to go, the room beyond was well-lit.
I checked the opposite direction, darker — someone was coming.
Someone carrying a lantern along the passage.
I ducked
into the stairwell and went as still as I could go. Quiet, don’t breathe, don’t breathe, don’t pass out.
A woman passed, carrying a tray of food toward the lit room at the opposite end.
She must have come from the kitchen. The kitchen would probably be busy, but also, perhaps, easy enough to sneak through.
The corridor was clear. I ran the length of it to a door and passed through to another skinnier stair and followed it down to where it opened into a bustling room.
Perhaps eight women, though it looked like it could hold a lot more, were cleaning, wiping down, wrapping up from the night. It must have been late. Across the entire room was a door to the outside. Hidden in the doorway, I fumbled with my iPhone trying to turn off the flashlight pushing the goddam button over and over, offoffoffmotherfuckingbuttonoff. Finally it went out.
I held up my hands and stepped from my hiding place. “Excuse me, excuse me. Pardon me, excuse me.” I hustled across the kitchen, holding my hands up, head-bowing, and excusing myself. “I’m sorry, excuse me, my apologies.” All the women stood surprised and staring.
I made it to the door, backed, bowing out of it, into an icy blast of freezing air.
Then I bolted through a garden, scaled a small fence, shoved open another door that led through a thick wall, and then it was fields, fields, and more fields. I turned on my flashlight, and ran, shining the light a foot in front of me, thanking god, the universe, and my self-control, that I hadn’t run down my iPhone’s battery on something stupid. I ran. My heart racing, my body shivering, my ragged breaths barely escaping my throat. Until I made it to the tree line. I was going to disappear there, into the woods, at probably close to midnight in the 18th century, Scotland. This was an insane plan.
When I turned back to look where I had come from, the moon illuminated the stone edifice and — crap, I was not on the right side of the castle.
I held onto a tree, bent over, and tried to get my breath under control.
Chapter 27
How long would it take before soldiers came looking for me? Hours — or minutes? I would be easy to find, my freaking breathing was as loud as a Harley. I looked up at the castle and tried to figure out which direction I needed to go. It had been hours since I first looked at it, and there had been some extreme duress since then. Whatever I remembered about what it looked like — it didn’t look like that now.
My guess was I was on the southeast corner. I needed to be on the middle of the west side. Maybe a mile away. Plenty of time for the soldiers to get there first and wait for me.
I needed to run.
The night was freezing. I didn’t have enough clothes on at all. My breath was frosty, the ground wet and slippery. My sneakers didn’t have enough traction, plus it had taken about three minutes before they were sopping wet. I scrambled over bracken and through bushes always keeping the fields to my right. I dove further into the forest when I had to go around fallen trees and boulders. But not too far in, because man, getting lost would suck. Luckily there was a bit more ambient light now, but not enough. I clawed away branches and scrambled over rocks. Tripping over a tree trunk, I stumbled — and landed, spent, unable to go anymore.
I shone my light around, wondering if someone was watching the woods from the windows, or the walls. Would they see my light just in the woods, shining around? “I’m here, I’m here.”
I had to run.
So I climbed to my feet and kept going.
The forest thickened. Over my shoulder the castle looked more like it had earlier that day. I held onto a tree and really looked — yes, it was the wall, just like Magnus had pointed out.
Left and right — no tree. But I was pretty close to finding it.
The castle was bigger than I remembered. I scrambled further into the woods, checking over my shoulder — still there — still there. I found a small clearing, big enough for three horses to stand. Over my shoulder the castle was in the perfect position.
I beamed the light around — there, twenty feet away, the tree — maybe?
I ran to it and stumbled over the stone wall. Not where I expected it to be, at all.
I held onto it, crouched, and felt along the rocks for the corner, forgetting my phone’s light completely — now I could hear it: Yelling. Men’s voices. Hooves galloping. Coming closer, calling, whistling, stamping — crap. I felt madly around.
The corner of the wall was right here, yes — corner, tree, tower. I dove over it and rustled through muddy soggy leaves and underneath something hard, warm, and smooth. My hands closed around it.
I recited the numbers as the horses galloped over the field, crashing through the underbrush, about to trample —
I was ripped from this world and flung screaming and writhing in pain to the next.
Chapter 28
I was back, technically. Trouble was I was in terrific pain and soaking wet, lying in about four inches of muddy water, tucked in vegetation, in what seemed like — I rose a bit and peered around. Yep, I was in a marsh.
I laid my head on my arm, keeping it out of the water just barely. Everything hurt. My lips. My eyelids. My toenails. I was ice cold. How long had I been jumping, minutes? It felt like hours. I might have frostbite. I couldn’t feel anything, except everything was on fire. My hand was enclosed around something like a claw. It was the vessel. I shoved it into my purse floating in the water beside me.
Magnus had picked me up when he felt like this and carried me with men chasing him. What was I weak? Um yeah, but still, getupgetupgetup. I pulled on marsh grass to steady myself as I heaved to my feet. What was that sound — oh yeah, me, screaming. I shoved my hands over my mouth.
Alligators. Alligators were here, for sure. I scanned left and right. Closest shore was left. I somehow managed to drag myself, pulling against marsh grass, moaning. I struggled against the plough mud, squelching and squelching around and in my sneakers, grasping and pulling the hem of my heavy wool skirt. With the next step my foot splashed deep into a hole. I was in water to my chest. My skirt held me down, but there was no escaping the dress. The belt was below the water, the ties were in the back.
I pulled with all my strength against the drag of heavy gravity that was way way stronger than usual. “Aargh. Ugh. Agh—“ There it went, my shoe, disappearing into the mud. I kept trudging, the word, alligators, driving me.
I didn’t need my shoe. I was going to be okay. My house was just a couple of miles away. Because looming over my head was the lighthouse. I made it out of the marsh and fell face down in the grass with a cry, I was in the park where we played kickball. Egan’s Creek. I was home, sort of.
I slept, a sleep of nightmares and fevers and agonies, and woke up freaking out on the bank of the marsh.
It was day, probably afternoon, though this whole thing, being alive in this much pain, was way confusing. My whole existence was a lot undecipherable.
I stumbled up the grassy slope, crossed the baseball diamond to the empty parking lot, and headed for the road out front. Four cars passed me, slowing down, staring. I must have been a frightful witch of a woman, crazy, haggard, bedraggled. I walked toward the beach, thinking, if I could get there, I could walk down the beach home. For miles.
I really needed a ride. Soon. Because — one shoe.
A myriad of other reasons.
And then Haley’s car pulled up beside me. She sat and stared. Her mouth opening and closing. Then her window slid down, “Kaitlyn, what the fuck, Kaitlyn? Oh my god, Kaitlyn is it you? Crap, girlfriend…” She drove the car to the side of the road, jumped out, and ran around the car. “Kaitlyn?”
“Yeah, hi. I’ve had a bit of a disaster.” I reached for the car handle and yanked it open as she reached to open it too.
“Kaitlyn, you're back from rehab? This looks like, what happened to you?”
“What — rehab? What are you talking about?” I dropped into the seat and rested my head on the headrest. It felt good to be in a 2017 vehicle. It felt good to be sitting down. It fel
t good to have Haley there. She would drive me home—
“Kaitlyn, rehab. You’ve been incommunicado for four months.” She slammed my car door shut.
I stared at her as she walked around to her side of the car. As she sat down. As she started the car. “Haley, what did you say?”
“I said, you’ve been gone for four months. We all thought you were coming back months ago, that must have been a huge problem, girlfriend. And you look terrible.”
Where had I been — four months? What the— “I don’t know how to… four months?”
“These don’t look like rehab clothes. Are you in some kind of cult? Is that what’s happening? Oh my god, did you escape?”
I closed my eyes. “No, not, but can you drive me home? I’m really cold and need to change into some warm clothes, and then maybe I can explain it. Four months?”
Haley looked at the watch on her wrist. “I was meeting the boys at the Turtle. I’ll take you to my house… let me call Michael first.”
“I really want to go to my house. I need clothes, a shower, bed. And Magnus might show up there, anytime.”
“Kaitlyn, you don’t have a home anymore. You weren’t coming back; no one knew where you were, and you didn’t leave any instructions. Your parents closed it all down. It’s gone. Look, let me call Michael. I’ll take you to my house, and we’ll talk this all out. Holy crap girl, I can not believe you’re here, and dressed like that. Were you sleeping in the marsh?”
Before I could answer, she got Michael on the phone. “Hey babe, yeah, I just found Kaitlyn. . . I know, she’s just back, suddenly, I can’t believe it. . . She was just at the park on Sadler. . . I know and she’s. . . look, let me take her to my place. I won’t make it tonight… ” She listened for a few moments then said to me, “Michael and James are coming to the house, they want to know what happened too.”
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