Time of a Highlander (Arch Through Time, #12)

by Baker, Katy

  “All clear,” Blair said, looking out. “But it’s getting lighter by the minute. We’ll soon lose the advantage of darkness. Come on, back the way we came. We have to reach the arch.”

  They stumbled out into the site, Georgie helping her father, Blair leading, scanning for trouble. They retraced their steps, aiming for the spot where they’d scaled the fence and the lane outside which would take them back to the arch they’d arrived by. For a moment, just a moment, Georgie dared to believe they’d actually make it.

  But Blair swore suddenly and Georgie’s heart sank. Up ahead, a group of security guards were clustered around the one that Blair had knocked out.

  “Quickly!” Blair hissed. “This way!”

  One of the guards looked up suddenly. “There they are! Intruders!”

  Blair grimly drew his sword. It glimmered in the growing light of dawn.

  “Take yer father and go,” he said softly to Georgie. “I’ll keep them off.”

  There was something fatalistic in his gaze, something that made heart-stopping fear rise in Georgie’s chest.

  “Don’t you dare,” she growled. “Don’t you even think about it! You are not sacrificing yourself for me.”

  “I made a vow,” he said. “A vow to keep ye safe. I mean to keep it.”

  “Then keep it!” she cried, her voice shrill with desperation. “But not like this! Blair! There are too many of them! I will not lose you, do you hear?”

  He hesitated, glancing at Georgie and then back at the security guards who were now running towards them. “There isnae any other way. They are blocking our escape. If ye get caught, then this will all be for naught! Campbell and Beaumont will get exactly what they want. I willnae allow that, Georgie. I willnae.”

  Georgie stared at him. His face was set with determination. A cold, hard lump of fear grew in her stomach. She couldn’t lose him. She couldn’t. She wasn’t sure she could survive it.

  Then an idea hit her. “There is another way! Come on!”

  Before he could argue, she grabbed his arm and yanked him after her as she turned, still supporting her father, and began running in the opposite direction. Her father’s breathing was labored, but he began to take more and more of his own weight until Georgie was able to let go and he began running on his own. He glanced behind them and his face turned pale.

  “They’re following us,” he gasped. “We have to get over the fence somehow and call the police.”

  “Not the fence,” Georgie replied, glancing back at the guards. They were maybe a hundred meters behind and gaining fast. “They would catch us. We need to go through the arch.”

  He gave her a quizzical look but was too out of breath to ask any more questions. They careened around storage sheds, jumped over ditches, skirted around excavations, running as fast as they could towards the northern end of the site.

  Twice more they ran into guards but Blair dispatched both with ruthless efficiency, barely breaking stride. Georgie expected to hear the retort of gun shots but nobody fired on them. Maybe they recognized her father as Adaira’s prisoner—a prisoner too valuable to risk injuring. Or maybe it was still too dark for them to get a clear shot.

  Adaira’s arch, the one Georgie had originally traveled through, came into view up ahead. The scaffolding had been removed and two floodlights had been set up nearby although they weren’t switched on right now. Two guards were standing in front of it, looking bored and a little cold.

  “Stop them!” someone shouted from behind.

  The guards looked up at the shout and their eyes widened as they saw Blair bearing down on them.

  They fumbled with their weapons, swinging them around to face Blair, but before either could get off a shot, Blair kicked the gun out of the first one’s hand and head-butted him so hard he went staggering. But that left another. He raised his gun and fired. Georgie’s heart leaped into her mouth as the sudden sharp crack split the night but the bullet went wide, ricocheting off a nearby wall in a shower of stone fragments.

  Blair snarled, punched the man in the face, ripped the gun from his hands, and clubbed him over the head with it. He took one look at the gun and then tossed it away nonchalantly.

  He didn’t see the first guard pull a knife and leap at him from behind.

  A scream ripped free of Georgie’s throat but her father was suddenly there, between Blair and the guard. He’d gotten a shovel from somewhere and he whacked the guard on the head with it. The man dropped without a sound.

  Blair spun, saw what had transpired behind him, and gave her father a quick, feral grin. “My thanks. Ye have some skill in a fight. I reckon we are gonna get on just fine.”

  Her father smiled wanly. “Couldn’t let the bastard sneak up on you. That’s not playing by the rules.”

  Georgie pulled in a shaky breath. Glancing behind, she saw their pursuers were quickly catching them up. She hurried to the arch and laid her hand on the stonework, willing it to activate.

  Nothing happened.

  She blinked. Panic erupted in her belly. Why wasn’t it working? Why wasn’t it doing what she wanted?

  Blair took up position behind her, facing the oncoming men. He held his sword in a two-handed grip. Her father stood by his side, fingers white where they gripped the handle of the shovel.

  “Whatever you’re going to do, I suggest you do it now,” he said. “They’ll be here in seconds.”

  Nerves fluttered in Georgie’s stomach. Panic fragmented her thoughts. She couldn’t think straight. How had she activated the arch the first time? It had just kind of ... happened. But when she’d traveled through the Great Arch to get back here, she’d said some words, words that had seemed to come from the stone itself. What were they? Why couldn’t she remember?

  Think, Georgie, think! she snarled at herself. You’re a Builder aren’t you? The arch has to obey you, so bloody well make it obey!

  She closed her eyes, trying to drown out everything else. But it was hard. She could hear her father’s panicked breathing and Blair’s steady breaths. She could hear the thump of footsteps thundering closer. She could hear her own pulse roaring in her ears. She pushed it all away, focused only on the feel of the stone under her hand. Her consciousness spiraled inwards, into the rock, into the runes inscribed on its surface, into the language of the Fae that was wound through it like veins. The language began to fit together, to form words that would open the portal, if she could only...

  “I’m rarely surprised these days,” said a cool voice, shattering her concentration. “But I admit to being so now. There’s no polite way to say this so I’ll just say it. Georgina Smyth, what the hell are ye doing here?”

  Georgie spun to find a familiar figure glaring at her. Adaira Campbell. She had her arms crossed, eyebrow raised in annoyance, and a look of high irritation on her face. Around her were her men, all with guns pointing at Georgie, Blair and her father.

  Blair glared at Adaira with undisguised hatred in his eyes and her father hefted the shovel, looking just as angry as Blair. Before either of them could do something stupid, Georgie stepped in front of them both.

  “Didn’t see that one coming did you?” she said. “So I guess you’re not as clever as you think you are after all.”

  Adaira said nothing. Her eyes flicked to Blair, then to Georgie’s father and then back to Georgie herself. “Actually, it’s ye who aren’t as clever as ye think ye are. Ye’ve come here to rescue yer father and brought one of the MacAuley bastards with ye by the looks of that plaid he’s wearing.” Her voice dripped with hatred at the name MacAuley and her eyes flashed. “That was a stupid thing to do.”

  “Oh?” Georgie said, trying to distract Adaira. “Really? You can’t use my father to force me to do what you want now so I’d call that a win. That is what you were planning, isn’t it?”

  “Clever girl. Or maybe not so clever after all. Ye call this a rescue? A poor one. Ye are surrounded. Ye have nowhere to go.” Then her eyes alighted on the arch behind Georgie. “Oh,
I see. Ye think ye can escape through that? I’m sorry to disappoint ye, my little American friend, but that isnae possible. The arch is broken. It was pure luck that ye survived a trip through it the first time. If ye try now, it will tear ye apart—I know, I’ve tried. I’ve sent quite a few people through to see if it works. The results have been...messy.”

  Georgie hesitated, resisting the urge to glance at the arch. Was Adaira telling the truth? Or was she merely trying to distract her? Yet she’d seen how the power of the arch had flickered and wavered when Beaumont had contacted Adaira through it and knew it was unstable.

  It was a risk but one they must take. There was no other choice. She took a few calming breaths and tried to attune herself to the stone. She could almost hear the language of the Fae deep within the rock. It was becoming clearer moment by moment. If she could only make it out...

  “So ye see,” Adaira said, cocking her head and regarding Georgie as though she was a fly caught in a spider’s web, “Rather than rescuing yer father, all ye have done is bring me another bargaining chip. Him.” She pointed a finger at Blair. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a parchment filled with diagrams. Georgie recognized the blueprints of the Great Arch. “Ye have no idea the lengths I had to go to find these. It has taken me years. But now? Now I have what I need. Ye are a Builder. Ye will build me a Great Arch. If ye dinna, I will kill yer father and yer lover.”

  Blair took a threatening step towards Adaira but Georgie held out her hand to stop him.

  “All right,” she breathed, making her voice sound defeated.

  The language of the stones was getting louder. She could almost make out words. She edged closer to the stone, reached out and brushed her finger tips over the rough surface. She glanced at Blair, and gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod.

  Understanding her unspoken signal, Blair gave her a tiny nod in response.

  “I’ll do it,” Georgie said to Adaira, making her voice sound pleading. “I’ll do what you ask. Just please don’t hurt them.”

  In her mind, the language of the stones suddenly burst into bright, glorious life.

  “Good girl,” said Adaira, sounding satisfied. “I knew ye would come around—”

  “Now!” yelled Georgie.

  She grabbed Blair with one hand, her father with the other, and shouted the words that were filling her mind. The arch blazed into life, shimmering heat-haze filling it from end to end. Behind her she heard Adaira yell something and her father suddenly grunt. Then she, Blair and her father jumped through the arch.

  It was not like last time. There was no sensation of falling. Rather, it was like being pulled in a hundred different directions at once. Blinding pain rampaged through Georgie’s skull, white-hot and searing. She cried out in agony but did not lesson her grip on Blair and her father.

  Images flashed in front of her eyes: bombs falling on a cathedral, warplanes in the sky, wooden galleons crowding a harbor, a king walking in state into a castle, a great battle on a moor, the air alive with the roar of cannons and musket fire, a settlement of round houses with roofs of sod, a whole village turned out for a solstice gathering, a stone circle being raised to mark the passing of the seasons.

  A host of images, a host of points in time, swept past Georgie’s eyes, all gone in an instant and she realized Adaira had been telling the truth. The arch was broken, unable to take them back to the point they’d left.

  Terror gripped her. Cold fear filled her veins. What had she done? Had she doomed them all to be thrown adrift in time? To be forever trapped between moments? She could not see her father or Blair but she could feel their hands in hers. Blair’s grip tightened and strength flowed into her from his touch.

  Trust yerself, she seemed to hear him say even though no sound reached her ears. Trust yerself.

  With an effort of will, she forced herself to concentrate, to push away the all-consuming agony and focus on the place she wanted to go. She was a Builder, dammit! The arch would do as she commanded!

  But it was hard. Lord, it was hard! It was like trying to force her way upstream through the current of a raging river. Time flowed by, so strong it threatened to tear her away and drown them all.

  She didn’t give up. She brought to mind an image of the Highlands, of Blair, Brody, Clara, Aibne, anything and everything she could think of that would anchor them to the time she needed to reach. The pain receded a little and the flashing images began to slow but they did not cease.

  “Irene!” she gasped in desperation. “Help me! Please!”

  In that vast flow of time she sensed an ancient presence suddenly take note and turn towards her. But it was not Irene. This was dark and malevolent. It took hold of her and it was like being grasped by fingers of ice. She cried out desperately and tried to fight it off, but the presence pulled her inexorably towards it.

  The images stopped, coalesced, and she suddenly found herself standing in a vast, vaulted hall. Tiered benches lined either side, full of tall, pale-faced creatures that would have looked human but for their black eyes that glared down at the newcomers.

  Georgie gasped, a shiver of utter terror going through her. What was this place?

  “The Unseelie,” murmured Blair by her side. “Lord save us. This is the Court of the Unseelie.” She glanced at him to find his eyes wide, his nostrils flaring, and a vein throbbing in his neck. For the first time since she’d met him he looked afraid.

  “The Unseelie?” she whispered. “What are they?”

  “They are Fae,” he breathed, not taking his eyes off the creatures staring down at them. “And they command the arches through time just as much as Irene does. We shouldnae be here. This is very, very bad.”

  A cough sounded to her left, and she turned to look at her father. She still gripped his hand but now she let him go and he slumped to the ground. Georgie’s heart almost stopped as she saw that something had hold of his leg, dragging him to the floor.

  It was Adaira Campbell.

  She looked as stunned as Georgie felt. She released Georgie’s father and then scrambled to her feet. She turned in a circle, taking in their surroundings. Then, as she realized where they were, a slow smile spread across her face.

  “Ha! It worked!”

  Georgie goggled at her. The woman was pleased to be here? What the hell?

  “What have ye done?” Blair growled at Adaira, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her.

  Adaira muttered a few words, glancing up at the Fae watching them. One of them raised a long-fingered hand and waved nonchalantly. There was a flash and Blair was tossed across the room where he landed with an audible crack on the hard flagstone floor.

  “Blair!” Georgie cried, hurrying to his side.

  He picked himself up, looking dazed. “I’m all right.”

  Georgie’s father staggered to his feet. He looked around, confused. “What is going on? Where are we?”

  “Ye are in the Court of the Unseelie!”

  The voice seemed to come from everywhere at once, so loud it made Georgie’s ears ring. She spun to see a shadowy figure standing at the top of a short flight of steps at the far end of the room. Shadows writhed around the figure so Georgie couldn’t get a good look at it.

  “Ye will kneel!”

  A force took hold of Georgie and without her volition she found herself walking towards the figure. Blair, her father and Adaira did the same. They were halted a few paces from the writhing shadows. The force pushed down on Georgie’s back, forcing her to her knees.

  Blair growled, “I will never kneel before ye.” His muscles were trembling as he fought the force that held them, his lips pulled back from his teeth in a rictus snarl.

  “Will ye not?” said the figure, amusement in its voice. “Even ye are not strong enough to withstand the power of the Unseelie, Blair MacAuley.”

  Suddenly, Blair grunted in pain. Slowly, oh so slowly, his knees bent until he was forced to kneel with the others.

  “See?” said the Unseelie.


  The swirling shadows that marked where the figure’s face should be turned towards Adaira. “Ye spoke the ritual words,” the creature said to her. “Ye called to us through time and opened a gate to this place. It is death for a mortal to come here without invitation. Tell me, why should I not flay yer flesh from yer bones?”

  Adaira’s eyes went wide with sudden fear. “Because I come to offer ye a bargain!” she blurted. “And by the laws of yer kind, ye must consider it!”

  The figure hesitated. “What bargain do ye offer?”

  “Give me the power of the arches through time. Make me the vessel of yer magic. And in return I will bring ye dominion over the Seelie court and help ye to destroy yer greatest enemy.”

  “And what would a mortal know of my greatest enemy?”

  “I know her name is Irene MacAskill,” Adaira replied, her voice gaining in confidence. “I know she has thwarted yer plans throughout the ages, manipulating time as if it were her plaything, using a power only the Unseelie should have access to. I can help ye change that.”

  The figure was quiet for a long time. On the surrounding benches the other Unseelie Fae shifted, a whisper going through them.

  “I see into yer heart,” the Unseelie said at last. “I see that ye are from a long line of mortals who have served us. I see the truth of yer words. Ye would serve us faithfully. But every bargain must be sealed with a payment. What price will ye pay us for this boon?”

  “The lives of these two mortal men,” Adaira said, nodding at Blair and Georgie’s father. “But not the woman. She is a Builder and will be useful to us.”

  The figure’s gaze fell on Georgie.

  She forced herself to look into the swirling shadows of its face. “Touch either of them and I will kill you,” she growled.

  There was soft, sibilant laughter. “Aye, I see the mark of the Builder in her. Very well, Adaira Campbell, daughter of the Unseelie. I accept the payment. The bargain is made.”

  The sudden tolling of a bell sounded.

  A shiver of cold fear like the touch of an icicle slid down Georgie’s spine.