Midnight's Master

by Donna Grant

  “Look at the isles,” Logan urged her.

  Gwynn raised a brow, but when Logan just looked at her, she sighed and looked across the sea. “Okay. Now what?”

  “Close your eyes.”

  Again, she hesitated.

  Logan leaned close and whispered in her ear, “Trust me, Gwynn.”

  With her hand on the can of mace in her pocket, Gwynn let her lids slide shut.

  “Good,” Logan murmured. “Now, think of Scotland and the wild, untamed beauty of this land. Let the magic that has been part of Scotland and her people surround you and fill your soul. Hear the call of the past. Feel the ancestors who once called Eigg home. Sense the power, the might of the Druids.”

  With every word Logan whispered into her ear, Gwynn felt herself falling deeper inside herself. The sound of drums and soft, melodic chanting filled her ears.

  Sparks of color flashed behind her eyelids as the chanting grew louder. She didn’t understand the words, repeated over and over, but she recognized the power in them.

  Something flared inside her, the same something she had pushed aside years ago. But it wouldn’t be denied now. It pulsed within her, growing, rising just as the chanting did.

  Magic.

  Gwynn’s eyes flew open, her gaze locked on Eigg. Suddenly, she could hear Grams’s voice in her head telling her about her ancestors, about the Druids who had lived on a small isle called Eigg on the west coast of Scotland.

  How had Gwynn forgotten that? She had been a small child when Grams had died, but until this moment with Logan, Gwynn hadn’t recalled anything about Eigg.

  Or Druids.

  Gwynn turned her head to look at Logan. “What did you do?”

  A slow, satisfied smile pulled at his lips. “Your magic is … strong. Either the Druids of Eigg are gone or they’ve squashed their magic, just as you nearly did.”

  Gwynn climbed to her feet and shook her head as she glared at Logan. “Stop it. I don’t have magic.”

  “There’s no use denying it. No’ only can I feel it, but you can as well. Now. Why did you bury it?”

  Memories of small, unexplained things that occurred when she was just a child filled Gwynn’s mind. She used to make her mother’s plants grow; used to watch as a seed sprouted and matured in a matter of moments with her help.

  She had eventually refused to listen to the call of her magic after her mother took her to all sorts of doctors to find out what had made her daughter so “wrong.”

  “Oh, God,” Gwynn said as she began to feel ill.

  Logan was suddenly standing beside her, his hands on her arms to steady her. “You feel it, your magic?”

  “Why?” she asked him. “Why did you make me remember? Why did you make me feel my magic again?”

  “Because I need you, Gwynn. We all do.”

  She backed away from him, out of his hold, out of the warmth that had begun to surround her. “I have to find my father.”

  “What do you really think brought your father here?” he asked as she took a step away from him.

  “I don’t know.”

  “You do,” Logan insisted as he tracked her step for step. “Why, Gwynn?”

  “What’s your interest in Eigg and the Druids?” she demanded.

  He paused, as if considering what to say. “It’s why I was brought here. You have no idea how verra important you, as a Druid, are.”

  She glanced at her hotel and tightened her fingers on the mace. “You’re insane.”

  “Nay. I’m telling you the truth. You may no’ want to hear it, but I am. Now tell me what would bring your father here?”

  Gwynn didn’t know what made her even consider telling Logan, but after everything she had experienced that night and the memories that now flooded her mind, she couldn’t not tell him.

  “My mother hated that I was … different. Between the doctors and the medication they put me on, I made myself forget about what I could do. My father, on the other hand, thought it marvelous. They argued constantly, and when I stopped doing the things that upset my mother, my father lost interest in me. But never in his ancestry. He was obsessed with learning about his past. My great-great grandmother came to America from Scotland. It was said that she was a witch.”

  Logan raked a hand through his shoulder-length golden brown hair and smiled ruefully. “Could your father do any magic?”

  “Not that I know of. He was always researching magic and its effect on cultures as an anthropologist.”

  “If he came to Mallaig in search of Druids, he might have stumbled across something he should no’ have found,” Logan said.

  Gwynn shivered. “I know.”

  “Are you going to the isles in the morn?”

  “I am.”

  Logan took a step closer to her. “Allow me to accompany you, Gwynn.”

  There had been a flash of something fierce and animalistic in his hazel eyes. “Why?”

  “If someone harmed your father, the same fate could befall you when you go searching. I can no’ allow that.”

  She hadn’t thought of that, but Logan had a point. “And how do I know I can trust you?”

  His eyes blazed with intensity. “I gave a vow to protect Druids with my life.”

  “Oh.” She wanted to discount his words, to walk away and forget about him. But she couldn’t.

  Nor did she want to.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  December 19th

  No matter how hard she tried, Gwynn couldn’t sleep for more than a half hour after leaving Logan on the docks.

  Everything he’d told her mixed in her mind with memories of her childhood until her head pounded from the strain. To make matters worse, while she drifted in her thoughts right before sleep claimed her, she recalled a fight her mother had had with Grams about Gwynn’s “magic.”

  Gwynn finally gave up on resting and rose to pace her small hotel room until the night sky lightened with a new day. She combed out her hair, dressed, and quickly brushed her teeth before she walked out of her room. She was pulling on her heavy black peacoat as she descended to the lobby.

  “Good morn, miss,” called the cheerful redhead behind the desk.

  Gwynn forced a smile. “Good morning.”

  It wasn’t good. Nothing was good right now, and it wouldn’t get any better until Gwynn found her father.

  She wasn’t surprised to see Hamish and Logan once more on the docks. Gwynn wasn’t sure if Logan had somewhere to go or if he just preferred staying by the sea.

  In order to get to the ferry, she had to walk past the two men. When she’d rather have bypassed them altogether. Logan’s knowing grin told her he knew she didn’t want to speak with him.

  “Did ye rest well, lass?” Hamish asked.

  Gwynn shook her head.

  “Och. That’s no’ good. Have ye eaten?”

  Gwynn sighed, searching for patience that seemed to have deserted her that morning. “No, I haven’t.”

  Hamish tsked and frowned. “It’s no’ good to start a day without a decent meal.”

  “I’ve got a bar in my purse,” Gwynn said and glanced down at the black bag on her shoulder. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Shall we go?” Logan asked.

  Gwynn had debated with herself all night about whether or not to have Logan accompany her. She didn’t know him, so she was leery. Yet a part of her, a part she had felt again last night for the first time in years, recognized his words as truth.

  That still didn’t mean he could be trusted.

  Gwynn sighed. Logan was a Scot, and that meant he would be able to take her places she might not otherwise know to look for.

  As if sensing her reluctance, Logan said, “I give you my word as a Highlander that I willna allow any harm to come to you, Gwynn, whether by me or someone—or something—else.”

  “All right,” she agreed. “But the minute I think you’re trying—”

  “That time willna come,” Logan stated, his face set in hard lines. “I’ve given my
word.”

  Hamish nodded solemnly. “A Highlander’s word is ta be taken seriously, lass.”

  “We shall see.” Gwynn gave a wave to Hamish and set off for the ferry.

  The sound of Logan’s boots behind her helped settle her nerves, which were suddenly on edge. She stepped onto the ferry and walked to the railing where she could see the isles.

  “You didna sleep,” Logan said.

  “After everything you told me last night you expected me to sleep?” Gwynn asked, as she cut him a look to let him know just how irritated she was.

  Logan shrugged. “You were past exhausted yesterday. If you doona take care of yourself, Gwynn Austin, you willna be in any condition to find your father.”

  She blinked her scratchy eyes, which were made worse when the ferry pushed off and the wind began. “Why do you want to come with me?”

  “Because you’re a Druid.”

  It was all she could do not to roll her eyes. “Tell me again how you knew,” she said as she turned to look at him.

  His hazel eyes, green and blue mixed with flecks of gold, watched her as if he had found the most interesting thing on earth. It made Gwynn fidget. Men didn’t look at her that way.

  “Well?” she prompted when he didn’t speak.

  Logan’s lips lifted into a crooked smile that made her heart miss a beat. “Last eve you didna want to believe me. Now you do?”

  “I feel it,” she whispered and glanced around to see if anyone heard her. “Inside me.”

  “I knew what you were because I, too, felt your magic.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “I’m no’ sure you want to know the answer to that.”

  She wasn’t sure she did, either, but she had to know. “Will you tell me?”

  “Aye, if that is your wish.”

  “You don’t want to, though, do you?”

  His nostrils flared as he exhaled and glanced at the dark blue waters that surrounded them. “You’ve just learned what you are. You might have been told parts of the story I retold last night, but deep inside you doona want to believe me.”

  Gwynn turned so that her back was against the railing. “All you say is true, but how can I really know what is going on if I don’t know the entire story?”

  “I may have put you in grave danger by reminding you of your magic. If I doona tell you more, she might overlook you.”

  “Who?”

  He raised his golden brows, his lips flattened.

  “Deirdre,” Gwynn murmured.

  “Aye. She’s verra real, Gwynn. If you believe nothing else, believe what I’ve told you about her.”

  Gwynn looked away from his mesmerizing eyes and his rugged features to find everyone on the ferry was looking at him.

  She dug her Chapstick out of her purse and applied it to her lips as she scooted closer to Logan.

  “What is that?” he asked as he watched her recap the lip balm.

  It was just another thing that made her frown. Who didn’t know what Chapstick was? Instead of answering him, she said, “Your kilt looks authentic. Almost as if you’ve worn it for years.”

  The interest in his hazel eyes faded as he became aware of the other ferry riders. “You say this because people are watching me.”

  It wasn’t a question, nor did she treat it as one. “There are Scots looking at you as if they’ve never seen someone like you before. Then there are the women, who are practically drooling over you. You didn’t know what a cell phone or Chapstick was. Those are common items everyone recognizes.”

  His jaw clenched as he held her gaze. “Once you know, there’s no turning back.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  “You say that now.”

  “Just what do you think will happen to me if I know?”

  Logan waited until the ferry docked before he took Gwynn’s elbow and ignored the flash of desire that simple touch caused. He ushered her onto the isle and maneuvered her away from the crowds.

  “Logan,” she said in warning.

  “You want to know what will happen to you?” he asked as he came to a halt.

  Gwynn whirled to face him, her black locks flying in the wind. She wore the same pink cap, which fit snugly over her head and covered her ears. The mixture of pinks only brought out the vivid color of her eyes even more.

  “Yes,” she said. “I want to know what could happen to me.”

  “Deirdre will hunt you down. She will take you and drain you of whatever magic you have and then kill you. She likes to torture the Druids for any information that could help her. You can be brave now, Gwynn, but I’ve seen what Deirdre does to the Druids. You doona want any part of that.”

  Wariness stole over Gwynn. Every time she thought of Deirdre, a coldness swept through her. No matter what she wanted, she couldn’t discount that feeling. “I’m not sure I should believe you.”

  “There’s only one way to prove it, and that’s with Deirdre. I’d rather no’ bring her into this.”

  Gwynn looked at the ground. “You’re scaring me.”

  “Good. I’d rather have you frightened than no’ to heed my words.”

  “All right,” she said and squared her shoulders. “What isle are we on again?”

  “Eigg.” Logan was saddened by the loss of the once powerful Druids who had called the isle home.

  Gwynn’s eyes became distant and she moved past him to walk along the shore. She would pause every now and then to look at something, as if her mind had taken her far away.

  “What is it?” Logan finally asked.

  Slowly, she turned to face him. “I don’t know. It’s almost … it’s almost as if I know this place.”

  “If your ancestors came from Eigg, it would make sense that you would recognize it because of your magic. The magic of Druids is endless, Gwynn. The stronger the Druid, the stronger the magic.”

  “Maybe,” she said with a shrug. “I’ve never been here before. I’ve never even seen pictures. How can I feel a connection to a place I didn’t know about until recently?”

  “Magic is a potent entity. The Druids may be gone from this place, but residual magic still lingers. You belong here.”

  “I think I do,” she said as she closed her eyes. “Do you feel that?”

  Logan was instantly on alert. “What?”

  “I feel magic, but it’s different from mine. This magic is old. Very old.”

  Logan squatted and placed his hand on the ground. “I came here once to find an ancient artifact that would help end Deirdre. The object, the Tablet of Orn, held great magic. That could be what you’re feeling.”

  “Do you not feel its magic?”

  “I do now,” Logan said as he stood. “I hope that means the artifact is still here.”

  “Why didn’t you get it before?”

  Logan moved away as a group of tourists neared them. “Deirdre. I was with another Wa … friend. We’d been sent here to convince the Druids to allow us on the isle. After that we’d either talk them into giving us the artifact or we’d steal it. Before we could get to the isle, Deirdre attacked and killed Duncan.”

  When Gwynn didn’t have another question, he turned his head to look at her. She was watching him thoughtfully, as though she were piecing a puzzle together. “You were trying to get to Eigg when the Druids were here?”

  “Aye.” And then he realized his mistake. He hadn’t wanted to tell Gwynn who he was or when he’d come from yet. She was already skittish enough without adding more weight to her shoulders.

  “When was that, Logan?”

  He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “A long time ago.”

  “How long?” she persisted.

  “Gwynn. You doona really want to know.”

  “Oh, but I do.”

  Logan knew there was no way of getting around telling her. He could lie, but if he wanted her to believe everything else he had told her, he had to be truthful now as well. “The year was 1603.”

 
For several heartbeats Gwynn did nothing but stare at him. Then she began to laugh.

  “How do I attract the crazy people?” she asked no one in particular.

  Logan wasn’t sure what “crazy” meant, but he had an idea. “I’m no’ daft, Gwynn.”

  “Oh, but you are,” she said as she glared at him, her violet eyes shining brightly. “There is no way someone can live for more than four hundred years.”

  “Actually, there are a couple of ways. I arrived in this time yesterday, which is why I doona know what that tube is you put on your lips, or this mobile phone you spoke of.”

  She shook her head and rubbed her temples with her fingers. “This cannot be real.”

  “Most believe that of magic as well, but you feel it within you. You used it as a child. If magic is real, why is it no’ believable that I traveled from my time to yours?”

  “Because time travel isn’t possible,” she ground out, the laughter gone and replaced with anger and frustration. “How, exactly, did you time travel?”

  “I was sent here by the Druids at MacLeod Castle. They pooled their magic together and sent me and three others here.”

  “There are more of you walking around?” she said, her eyes wide with horror.

  Once she knew of the god inside him, he wondered if that horror would be directed at him. “Aye.”

  “Why were you sent here?”

  “Because Deirdre was pulled from our time to this one. She took another of us with her. We’re here looking for Ian, and to complete our mission.”

  “Finding the artifact?” Gwynn asked.

  “Indeed.”

  She started walking and Logan fell into step beside her. They continued in silence for a time before she halted and turned to him.

  “Say I believe everything you’ve told me. How would you find Ian and Deirdre?”

  Logan shrugged. “I’m no’ sure. I would be able to feel Deirdre’s magic. Ian is a different story altogether.”

  “Why would she take Ian?”

  “Duncan was his twin. I believe that when Deirdre was pulled through time, there was a connection between her and Duncan that transferred to Ian.”

  “Which is what made him time travel,” she finished. She shook her head of midnight hair. “This is all so surreal.”