HIDDEN IN TIME

by Longley, Barbara

“’Twas blessed by the fae and the druids who hid our vales. The fae are the children of the goddess Danu.” Ceann Carraig gestured for them to join the queue waiting to take a drink. “The water has healing properties and drinking from the sacred spring also helps clarify one’s thoughts, which is particularly helpful when there are decisions of great import to be made.”

  “Ah.” She nodded, somewhat skeptical.

  One side of the druid’s mouth quirked up. “’Tis said Fionn MacCumhaill himself has partaken of these waters.”

  “Did Brian tell you my brother-in-law trained and served under Fionn MacCumhaill? Fáelán knew Fionn well.”

  “He did.”

  Grayce moved with the line as Ceann Carraig and his great-grandson took up the same quiet chant as the rest of the assembled druids. Peace stole over her, peace and a deepening sense of well-being. Druidic magic? Had to be because she had no reason to feel this good otherwise.

  Finally, Sloan placed the wooden ladle filled to the brim in her hand, and she took a long drink. “I don’t feel any different,” she whispered, peering at Ceann Carraig in the golden light of the burning torches.

  “Nay?” He chuckled. “Mayhap ye are already blessed and cannot tell the difference.”

  After everyone had taken a drink, Ceann Carraig led them to his cottage, which like all the other cottages in the grove, faced the sacred fountain. “Nevan lives with me,” he said, opening the door for them. “Since my dear wife’s passing, my family thought I needed looking after.”

  “Grandda, by my own choice I joined the enclave and took my vows as an acolyte. I was only twelve summers when I came to the grove. Where else was I to live?” Nevan went inside first and lit several candles by holding the wicks to the embers glowing in the hearth. “Grandda looks after me as much as I look after him, but I’m by far the better cook.”

  He was so earnest she couldn’t help but smile. Bunches of plants tied into bundles hung from the rafters, giving the cozy cottage a pleasant herbal smell. This home had an ancient feel, like it had stood for centuries.

  “Please, have a seat.” Ceann Carraig walked toward a round table situated in the corner. “Would it surprise ye to learn I’ve had a constant stream of visitors since James was wounded?”

  “Nay.” Brian guided her to the table. “’Tis all anyone is talking about. We’ve come this morn because of Grayce’s abilities. She wishes to share with you what she knows.” He sat beside her and covered her hand reassuringly with his. “How is James faring?”

  “He’ll recover. He’s staying in the healer’s hall until the threat of fever has passed. ’Tis certain he’d appreciate a visit before ye leave.” Ceann Carraig leveled a stare her way. “Tell me what brings ye here, Grayce.”

  Her heart thumped, and she drew in a breath. “Aiden wounded James on purpose. I sensed his intent a second before he pretended to slip. I also sensed his heightened excitement after he injured James, and that was the worst part.”

  “Our head healer is also an empath,” Nevan said. He placed a candle at the center of the table, and the sweet aroma of beeswax arose. “Anna said the same thing.” He took a seat beside his great-grandfather.

  Grayce leaned back in her chair. “So, I didn’t need to add my two cents’ worth after all.”

  “We shall always welcome your two cents’ worth,” Ceann Carraig assured her, his eyes twinkling. “Anna’s empathic abilities aid her greatly in the healing arts. Once ye are settled, mayhap ye might consider training with her. Our clan can always use more healers. Empaths seem to have extraordinary skill when it comes to healing. ’Twould give ye a useful occupation and a revered role within our clan. Our healers also act as midwives.”

  “I’ll think about it before I commit.” An overwhelming sense that he knew something she didn’t assailed her.

  “Even those without empathic abilities could see with their own eyes Aiden meant to harm James,” Nevan added, his voice tinged with disgust. “If he hadn’t, Aiden would’ve dropped his sword the moment his blade touched James. James lowered his weapon to avoid seriously injuring Aiden, believing the arse had truly slipped.”

  “Ah, but this is an example of why we must see with more than our eyes, aye? Have I not told ye that over and over?”

  “Aye, Grandda, and I’m learning.”

  “Aiden broke the rule about doing any real harm to a clansman,” Grayce said. “Can the council prevent him from hurting anyone else? With two empaths testifying, can’t he be eliminated from the tournament?”

  “We are deliberating how best to proceed.” Ceann Carraig shifted in his chair. “Ye have questions for me, do ye not, Grayce MacCarthy?”

  “Are you an empath as well, or do you read minds?”

  “Neither.” He flashed her a rueful smile. “I am an old man who has learned how to observe and interpret the language of expressions, gestures, and posture.” His eyes held warmth. “And through practice and meditation, I’ve learned how to decipher one’s energy, or aura if you will.”

  “Sloan and Brian told you about my half-fae relative, and that I know Boann will find a way to bring me home. Your suggestion that I learn the healing arts seems to suggest you don’t believe that will happen.” She drew in a long breath. “Do you know something I don’t?”

  “Ah, lass, my heart breaks for every woman who comes to us, for ’tis not right that they should give up so much for our gain. There is naught we can do to change what was done so very long ago. Fionn’s fae relation arranged things just so, and the fae do not see the world as we do. A mortal’s grief lasts but the blink of an eye to them, and therefore merits little to no consideration.”

  The wrinkles on his brow deepened. “Only the original weaver of the magic hiding us can enter our valleys at will. No fae can undo or penetrate what another has wrought.”

  That explained why Boann was taking so long. “So Boann will have to discover who cast the magic first, and then she’ll have to locate that fae and convince them to help me. That shouldn’t be too difficult for a fae princess.” She should feel relief, and she did, but also a gripping sadness. That Brian tensed and held her hand a little tighter only made her feel more conflicted.

  “The Tuatha dé Danann are not immortal,” Ceann Carraig told her. “Though they do not age as we do, the fae can be killed by weapons forged by their own kind.”

  “Okay,” she murmured. “Not sure what that has to do with my situation.”

  “Our history has been handed down to us from generation to generation by our druid ancestors. Eventually, what we once had to memorize word for word was also written.” His expression turned to sympathy. “When our valleys were hidden, war raged throughout Éire. The fae fought alongside mortals at that time. Some were on the side of Fionn MacCumhaill and the kings he served. Others supported the kings who wished to destroy the Fianna. Those kings feared Fionn and his elite army had become too powerful. ’Twas Fionn’s cousin Alpin who wove the magic that tucked us away within the tapestry of time and space.” Ceann Carraig peered intently at each of them.

  “Fionn swore he’d bide with us as our head chieftain once the war ended, and Alpin vowed to return with him.” Ceann Carraig patted her arm, and she sensed his compassion and his regret. “Ye see lass, naught but death could have kept Fionn away from his people. And, if Alpin had survived the war, he would have returned to see to our welfare out of fealty to his beloved cousin.” His heavy sigh seemed to penetrate every nook and cranny of the cottage. “Fionn and Alpin are long gone from this world, or they would have returned to us.”

  Her brother-in-law had just been with Fionn a year ago. Had that been after the kings had been at war or before? “But—”

  “There can be no other explanation for their absence so long ago. ’Tis sorry I am to be the bearer of such grievous news, but ye are here for good, and ’tis glad we are to have ye.”

  She went a little light-headed, and spots danced before her eyes. All Grayce could manage was a slight nod. Brian pulle
d her against his side, but even with the heat radiating from him, her hands turned icy cold. To cap it all off, Regan’s words came back to haunt her. Boann could not appeal to her grandfather for help. She was forbidden to meddle in mortal affairs anymore, or else she’d face dire consequences.

  Even if Boann did approach King Lir Beneath the Sea, he wouldn’t be able to do anything to help. Lir hadn’t been the one to hide these valleys. Her heart splintered into grief-filled fragments. She would never see her family again.

  “Thank you for being so brutally honest,” she choked out, rising from her place. “I think I need some space right now. I have a lot to … to process. I’ll find my way back. You two can go visit James without me.”

  She didn’t wait for a response. Instead she took off out the door and through the courtyard, ignoring the curious glances, alarm and concern aimed her way. Once she made it to the path leading toward the village, she cut off into the woods and found a nice sturdy oak to lean against. She sank down to the ground, her back against the rough bark. Sobbing, she pulled up her knees and buried her face in her arms. How would she learn to cope with the pain? How could she handle such overwhelming loss?

  Meredith, can you hear me? No response came to her, not even a tingle of awareness. Might that also have something to do with the fae magic? They’d always been able to sense each other. How could she face life without her twin sister? They’d shared everything since the moment of conception. They were two halves of a whole. How could she handle never seeing her mom and dad again, or Regan, Fáelán and baby Conan?

  If anything could drive her to drink, it would be this intolerable, unfair twist of fate that brought her to this place. What had the fae and druids been thinking when they decided to snatch random women from their lives and families this way?

  “Grayce was so certain her family would find a way to fetch her home.” Brian looked toward the door. His thoughts were with her and the agony she must be suffering. “She has endured one shock after another.” The first of which had been being wrenched so painfully from her own life. Then to see a man so grievously wounded in what should have been a civil competition. Ceann Carraig’s revelation must have devastated her.

  “Aye, that she has.” His da frowned. “With Aiden freely about, I think it best Grayce not wander about alone,” he said, rising from his chair. “I’ll visit with James, whilst ye follow her at a safe distance.”

  “I’m on my way,” he said, jumping to his feet.

  Sloan turned to Ceann Carraig. “I know telling Grayce what ye knew could not have been easy. Still, the sooner she accepts the truth, the quicker she’ll adjust.”

  “I am sorry to have been the one to shatter her hopes, but the unfortunate business falls to me.”

  “So, Fionn and Alpin are lost to us. How do we proceed from here, my friend? How will we protect our borders without additional fae magic?”

  As much as he wished to hear what the druid had to say, Brian couldn’t tarry. His worry for Grayce propelled him out of the cottage. He jogged through the courtyard and along the trail, coming to a halt when he heard muffled sobs coming from the woods to his left. He took a step toward the sound and stopped. She’d said she needed space, but damnation he needed to hold her. Her sobs left his heart in shreds. Jaw clenched, and hands fisted, he stepped back onto the path. Crouching beside a tree off to the side, he waited.

  Waiting left him time to think about Ceann Carraig’s revelation. With Fionn and Alpin gone, the solution to the danger facing their clan must then come from within their own clan. After witnessing the grief caused by the fae magic firsthand, his thinking had shifted. Perhaps it would be best to let the borders between the realms gradually unravel. They had time to prepare for that eventuality. Their women would be a great resource toward helping them adapt. They could teach them about what to expect when their world merged with the outer realm.

  Brian rose to his feet at the sound of twigs snapping and brush being pushed aside. Grayce emerged from her hiding place and began walking. Seeing her shoulders slumped and her head bowed, he ached for what she must be going through. Keeping to the very edge of the forest for cover, he followed as quietly as he could.

  He could not replace those she’d lost, but he could lay his heart at her feet. He could protect and provide for her for the rest of his life. Would that be enough? What if the spark of desire, trust, and affection he glimpsed when she looked at him turned to dull resignation?

  I’m asking if you’re willing to give up one thing. That was what she’d said, but leading his people was now more important than ever. Could he let go of his life’s purpose and turn his back on his clan for her? If he did compromise his convictions, eventually her respect for him might diminish. Damn, but he was in a tight spot with no way out that served anyone well.

  Still brooding about yesterday’s visit with Ceann Carraig and Grayce’s grief, Brian stood with the rest of his clan as James and the druids approached the arena. Their head druid already waited at the center, and the rest of the enclave took their places around the outer perimeter of the low wall. The atmosphere was solemn, while Aiden’s demeanor could only be described as defiant and resentful. The fool scowled at any who chanced to look his way.

  Brian searched the crowd for Helen and Rebecca. Rebecca’s gaze met his. Her expression held uncertainty and fear, but then her features hardened, and she turned away. She too had been brought here without choice, and unfortunately, she’d fallen in with the wrong family. Within a more caring and honorable household, might she come around? He’d speak to James and Dylan about her when he had the chance.

  His attention shifted to Grayce. He’d stayed away from her since yesterday, though it tore him apart and robbed him of sleep to do so. The light had gone from her lovely gray eyes, and she’d become withdrawn. He knew not what to do or say. Hopefully she would reach out to him when ready.

  Ceann Carraig didn’t need to call for silence. Not even a whisper rose from those gathered. Everyone held their breath, waiting and wondering how the wrong done to James would be addressed.

  “We are gathered today to render our decision regarding the unfortunate occurrence between two of the contestants in our tournament. We have considered what is just for all involved, and the council has reached a decision,” Ceann Carraig began. “In days of old, ’twas not uncommon for a man or a woman to choose a champion to fight in their stead.” A low murmur began at his words.

  “The elders, druids and chieftains have decided to hold a rematch, granting James the right to choose a champion to fight on his behalf. Since the sword tournament was down to the final two, James may choose a fellow competitor if he so desires. For the remaining events he cannot manage, he must look outside the tournament contenders for a champion.”

  The low buzz of murmuring spread through the spectators, and Ceann Carraig held up his hand for quiet. “If Aiden declines to fight the champion James chooses, first place will fall to James. If James’s chosen champion declines, first place will be awarded to Aiden. If Aiden agrees to the match, the outcome will determine the final placement in this event.”

  Ceann Carraig turned to Aiden. “Do you agree to a rematch, Aiden MacBlaine?”

  “I do,” Aiden called out.

  A collective gasp burst into the air like a flock of starlings, and a shiver slithered down Brian’s spine. Hadn’t Grayce said she’d had a premonition about how all of this would play out? He tensed as James, his injured arm bandaged and held in a sling, entered the ring and glared openly at Aiden. He came to a stop beside Ceann Carraig.

  “James MacAndrew, whom do ye choose as your champion for this event?” Ceann Carraig called out.

  Brian’s heart pounded so hard his ears rang. His breathing went shallow as James turned slowly to face him. Their eyes met and held. Brian gave his friend a slight nod.

  “I choose Brian MacSloan as my champion. Do ye accept, Brian? Will ye avenge the wrong done to me?”

  “I do, and I will av
enge ye. ’Tis a great honor ye do me.” He unbuckled the belt holding his sword and pulled off his tunic and shirt. He moved to stand before Grayce. “Will ye hold these for me?”

  She blinked up at him, her eyes overly bright. Without a word, she took the bundle he offered and clutched it to her chest. Finally, he could breathe again. Her acceptance symbolized much more to him than she could possibly know. She approved of his decision to fight, else she would have refused his request, wanting no part of what was to come. He was her champion as well.

  He slid his sword out of the scabbard she held. “I recall the promise I made. Ye’ve no need to fret.”

  She lifted her chin. “Kick his ass, Brian,” she whispered.

  “I will.” He grinned at her before turning to face the ring. The crowd parted as he strode toward the wall of stone. James’s father met him there.

  Andrew grasped his shoulder. “Ye have our gratitude. If ye ever have need of us, ye’ve only to ask.”

  “James is my friend. He would do no less for me,” he said as he stepped into the arena. Determination pulsed through him with each beat of his heart. He came to stand before James. They gripped each other by the forearm.

  “Ye have my thanks, Brian,” James said. “Don’t let me down.”

  “I won’t.” Brian nodded once at his friend and turned to smirk at Aiden.

  Aiden’s rage-filled gaze met his. Brian laughed to stoke the man’s ire. He counted upon Aiden’s lack of self-control to bring their bout to a quick end. He rolled his neck and shoulders to loosen up while the druid exhorted them both to fight fairly and went over the rules.

  “Both of ye, go stand by the wall on opposite sides,” Ceann Carraig directed. He and Aiden obeyed, and the druid left the ring, followed by James. “Begin,” the druid called out.

  Brian sauntered toward the center of the ring and stood with the tip of his sword in the dirt. He rested both hands loosely upon the pommel and canted his head to study Aiden. He shrugged indifferently. “The sooner ye begin, the quicker your defeat will be behind ye, MacBlaine.”