Alan, his thoughts one with hers, tucked something into her hand and said, “Look how smooth and shiny its underbelly. Its very deformities exist because its innards were protected. It may appear to the world as deformed but ‘tis not the case. ‘Tis in better shape where it counts.”
Caitriona smiled when she looked at what he’d placed there. It was the stone he’d picked up on the Broun clan’s shore. The very one she’d found goodness in. Alan had saved it. On a whim, she held it up, angling it just so. Though a tiny replica, it matched the mountain perfectly.
“What is that?” Adlin asked.
“A key,” she said in wonder. “Better yet a map.”
“We must get to its underbelly, where ‘tis smooth and shiny,” Alan said.
Mildred looked up. “It’s hard to imagine there is anything smooth about such a mountain.”
“But there is,” Caitriona assured. “There has to be.”
“Then we will find it,” Adlin said with confidence.
A loud crash resounded in the distance and light flashed. Alan shook his head. “Best be soon. The enemy comes.”
“Did you see that?” Stephen asked and pointed up. “Just there toward the center of where they have been cutting at the stone. There was light as if a reflection.”
They all looked where he pointed. When again light flashed in the distance, so too did it on the mountain.
“There is something there. Perhaps a way into the mountain,” Adlin said. “We must go.”
The closer they got the more it became obvious that whatever they’d seen was halfway up a sheer mountain face. But it was definitely there that they must travel. Caitriona felt the pull grow stronger. “How do we get there?”
“I will climb up first and see if ‘tis worth the risk,” Alan said.
Caitriona had no chance to stop him before he repositioned his satchel and weaponry then started to climb. She’d seen him move up such a steep incline back at the cave but that didn’t make watching him scale the treacherous ledge now any easier. She squeezed their stone and prayed that he remained safe.
In short time, even though frighteningly high up, Alan arrived at the location. It was hard to see what he did through the darkness. She cringed when dust and pebbles fell but at least it was never her love. Whatever he had found must be worthwhile. At long last he returned, grinning. “There is good news and bad.”
“Some news is better than no news,” Mildred said.
Alan nodded. “The good news is that there is an entrance up there large enough to get through.”
“The bad?” Arianna asked.
“Getting up there is no easy climb.”
Another crash echoed in the distance followed by several more flashes. “The Sinclair’s battle with magic yet still the enemy closes in,” Adlin said. “So we must take only the good news and ignore the bad.”
When another flash lit the sky, Mildred said, “Look!”
But she wasn’t looking toward the flash. Instead, she’d been looking up to where Alan had just been. Caitriona peered up, surprised to see what appeared to be fog pouring down.
“What did you do up there?” Adlin asked.
“Very little,” Alan said. “I used this to chip away some of the small hole I found so that there would be enough room to climb through.”
Adlin took the dagger from him and his eyebrows shot up. “This is made by a MacLomain verra close to me. It has a strong protection spell on it.”
“Aye,” Alan replied. “Muriel, Iain’s sister created it. She is your granddaughter.”
“The sister you were meant to marry,” Caitriona asked.
“One and the same.”
Adlin studied the dagger then handed it back to Alan. “My granddaughter will have great talent. The magic that was cast on this dagger’s sole purpose is to protect love.”
“It did,” Alan assured. “It killed a MacLeod.”
The MacLomain nodded. “‘Tis good you brought it with you.”
“Is it?” Arianna stood with her hands on her hips, still staring up. “Look what is happening!”
More fog kept billowing from the hole, spanning down towards them and out toward the water. As light and magic continued to explode in the distance, the fog reflected it and became light gray, nearly white as it poured down around them.
“Adlin,” Mildred said, concerned.
“Remain close. Make sure you hold the hand or touch whoever is closest. Verra old magic comes,” Adlin said.
Caitriona felt Alan’s hand slip into hers. In turn she took Mildred’s who took Adlin’s and so on. The thick fog engulfed them making it harder and harder to see.
Yet still she saw her coming.
None said a word as a little old lady hobbled up from the shore.
“Fionn Mac Cumhail,” Caitriona said softly.
“It cannae be,” Adlin murmured.
But there was great respect in the MacLomain’s eyes. He knew it was true.
Fog twirled around the woman as she came to a stop, so close one could reach out and touch her. Kind eyes looked at each and every one of them until they focused on Mildred. When she spoke it was with compassion, love and sympathy. “This is where your journey ends, my child.”
Chapter Eleven
Adlin stepped between the old woman and Mildred. “Over my bloody dead body it is!”
Alan was still having trouble understanding what he looked upon. This was the Celtic god, Fionn? Clearly he viewed the less intimidating version of this creature.
“Now, now,” Fionn said, her eyes warm but firm. “Your love cannae travel beyond this point. She must return to her own time to fulfill this prophecy.”
“Nay,” Adlin said. “Then I will stay here with her.”
The old woman shook her head. “It cannae be, Adlin MacLomain.”
Curt, he said, “It will be.”
“Do you not want the MacLomains to survive?”
“Clearly I do,” Adlin replied. “And along with them, Mildred.”
“Well then, you must allow her to come with me,” Fionn said.
“I don’t want to go,” Mildred said.
“And you willnae,” Adlin replied, his dark gaze on the god. “I cannae allow it.”
Alan felt for them both. Would he and Caitriona soon be in the same position?
Fionn did not grow angry. If anything the old woman appeared saddened. “Then you will all stay here and fight. You will lose. The MacLomains will never be. ‘Tis the way of fate.”
Nobody said a word. Adlin appeared furious. Mildred heartbroken. Could it all be that final in the end? Could true love be torn away in a mere moment because a god said so?
Yet the god wasn’t about to offer condolences.
When she turned away, Mildred hesitated but a moment more before she shook her head and said, “Stop, what do you mean the MacLomains will never be?”
The old lady turned back, her wizened eyes first on Caitriona’s pocket where the rings rested, then on Mildred. “A pact was made to protect the clan. A prophecy then sealed. If you continue on this journey with Adlin all will be lost, even your love.”
Mildred noticeably shivered and Adlin pulled her close, his eyes determined. “There is always a way around things such as this lass. I will find a way with you here.”
His lass shook her head, gaze ever intent on Fionn. Whatever she saw in the god’s eyes told her otherwise. “No, you won’t,” she whispered. Her tortured gaze went to his. “I won’t let you. This is your clan, your life, Adlin. If a god is telling you that it can be saved if I go, then that’s what I’ll do.”
“One of the gods, not the God,” he argued, true fear in his eyes, unadulterated pain.
Alan didn’t blame the MacLomain for being blasphemous toward Fionn. He’d do the same in his position.
Fionn didn’t appear offended in the least. “It takes a strong lassie to walk away. The strongest. But time grows short. She must do so now.”
“She is not walkin
g—”
“Yes, my love, I am,” Mildred said. Before he could speak further, she cupped his cheeks in her trembling hands. “Not that long ago, you told me something that I’ll never forget. You said I will never leave you. You are mine forever. You are my one true love, in this life and beyond. I will follow you until the very end.” Her eyes watered. “Did you mean that?”
Caitriona’s hand shook in his. Alan squeezed and pulled her ever closer.
Adlin rasped, “You know I did.”
“Then why fret?” She leaned closer, her lips nearly against his. “You will find me. Never doubt it for a minute. And when you do, I’ll be waiting.”
Grief-stricken, Adlin pulled her against him, his lips covering hers. He kissed her long and hard before she at last pulled away slowly. Tears ran down her cheeks but her words were merry, however forced. “Come to me in New Hampshire. You know where it is. I can already see us sitting on a front porch reminiscing about everything that has happened. What stories you’ll have to tell.”
Adlin’s eyes were no drier than hers. “I will be there, my love. Never once doubt it.”
Mildred kissed him one last time then took the old woman’s offered hand. She gave a wobbly smile to the rest of them then focused on Fionn.
Alan watched as the lass held the god’s hand and the wizard’s then their fingers sliding slowly apart, she released Adlin’s hand and started walking.
They all watched as the two faded away, swallowed by the ever thickening fog.
Fionn’s words seemed to whisper around them. “Follow.”
A wild, abandoned look in his eyes, Adlin didn’t need to be told twice.
He followed.
They all pursued the god. There was no way to tell which direction they went. It might have been toward the water or the mountain. No matter, whichever way, something had most definitely changed. Now tainted with the distinct smell of salt and brine, an icy wind began gusting through the fog.
Alan stopped Caitriona when water rushed over their feet. They all stepped back as the fog dispersed. Though it lingered in spots, the raging sea prevailed. Blistering clouds boiled and churned above, their bellies brushing tall, jagged rocks protruding from the black water like age old sentinels. The prophecy closed in on them. Tight, like a noose, he felt it pull forward, eager for blood and finality.
Fear, its tendrils slick and unforgiving, wrapped around his heart. Alan ran his hand over the hilt of his blade. Soon he would embrace the warrior for the fight of his life…or hers.
“The Orkney Isles,” Caitriona whispered and pull out her pouch. “We have arrived.”
“‘Tis an angry place, this” Arianna said.
“A place of the gods,” Stephen added.
Adlin MacLomain said nothing but only stared out over the brooding coast. Alan could feel the wizard’s deep pain. There could be no greater.
“They have changed again,” Caitriona said.
It was clear she didn’t want to disturb Adlin yet still the MacLomain turned, his eyes on the rings in her palm. Now where the golden hands came together there was a clear stone. Each stone was a dull whitish gray, much like the very fog they’d just journeyed through. She gave them to him when he held out his hand.
The wizard closed his eyes and said, “Through love strengthened and love sacrificed is built the foundation, the verra stone of time and endurance.”
When he opened his eyes, Adlin seemed to have a greater comprehension. While still sad, there was new hope in his eyes. Somehow, the rings had offered him comfort.
Caitriona put them back in the pouch and tucked them safely in her pocket.
“Trouble comes,” Stephen said. “I can feel it.”
“So too does help,” Adlin said.
Two small boats drifted toward the shore. Their design was different, the bodies sleek and narrow, the symmetrical bow and stern curved up.
“Viking,” Adlin murmured.
“But this is Norse water, is it not?” Caitriona asked.
“Aye, but our ancestors traveled these waters,” Adlin replied.
When she looked at Alan in question he shrugged. “Is it really so impossible that spirits from the past might help us when a Celtic god has thus far?”
“True,” she admitted, a watchful eye to the sky. “Yet such timing. A storm brews.”
“On both sides,” Stephen said. “The fog thickens behind us.”
“The enemy follows. We must go,” Adlin said and started into the water toward the boats. “Use no magic yet. Save your energy.”
Alan looked at Arianna. “Stay with Caitriona. Be ready to grab the boats if we lose them.”
Stephen and Alan were soon running into the surf after Adlin.
Heavy winds gusted, tossing the boats to and fro. Strong swimmers all, the men retrieved the boats, shoving them close to the shore.
Arianna pointed out to sea and yelled over the ever increasing roar of the waves crashing onto the shore. “More trouble comes.”
Adlin peered out and muttered, “Norse.”
“And here we are in Viking boats. That cannae be good,” Stephen said.
The fog thickened behind them, flashing with magic.
“Come, move quickly now,” Adlin said.
“I am stronger physically than Caitriona. Stephen and I will row this one,” Arianna said, hopping into a boat. She looked at Adlin. “You go with them.”
“Nay, the magic willnae be evenly distributed if I go with them,” Adlin said.
Caitriona got into the other boat. “The time will soon come when magic is needed. You must go with them. I can help Alan row just fine.”
“She is right,” Stephen said. “And I am not as powerful in the magi. Arianna will need protection.”
The Broun lass rolled her eyes and plunked down in the middle. “I willnae argue with a bunch of hard headed wizards.” She pulled free a bow and arrow. “I will fight the best way I know how.”
“Aye, then.” Adlin and Stephen hopped into her boat.
Alan pushed his and Caitriona’s boat out and jumped in. He sat in the back where his strength would serve best. “Have you rowed before, lass?”
She pulled on her hood and glanced back. “I was raised on the sea, love. What do you think?”
Alan was proud of her as she took up the oars and moved with ease. This part would be the most difficult as they got out beyond the breaking waves. He dug his oars deep, aimed into the crests and pressed forward with every ounce of strength. The boat was built well, slicing through the water with nary a wobble. Caitriona lowered her head as the ocean sprayed over the bow but never once did she slow or show any fear.
Once they got far enough out that the water was less likely to flip them, Adlin turned northwest. He had little choice. Men were erupting through the fog on the shoreline and the Norse came ever closer by sea. Alan steered alongside them. “We are far outnumbered. When will we turn and fight?”
White lightning crackled across the soupy sky. Thunder rumbled, the sound rolling across the wide horizon like a battleship come for them all. Heavy drops began to fall.
Adlin looked to the shore, a growl in his voice. “‘Tis Innis after all. Bloody blackguard.”
A tall, thin Highlander stood, legs spread, arms crossed over his chest, staring out at them from amongst his warriors. Energy crackled around him. His eyes shone black.
“He summons magic,” Alan said.
“He will summon more than that,” Adlin assured.
Fresh boats appeared out of thin air, floating as if driven, toward the men on the beach.
Adlin shook his head. “As I said.”
“Alan is right,” Stephen said. “We must turn and fight soon. Slow them with magic.”
The MacLomain shook his head. “Not yet. Keep rowing.” He nodded. “See that in the distance?”
Caitriona exclaimed, “‘Tis a small isle.”
“‘Tis our only hope,” Adlin returned.
Meanwhile, even as he rowed,
the arch wizard began to chant. “Winds above. Sea below. Carry us away from harm. Ventis supra. Suppositi maris. Ut nos auferant a nocentibus.”
Alan glanced toward the Norse. They were gaining quickly.
Energy, much like that swirling around Innis, now twisted around Adlin. The wind shifted directions, plunging their boats forward. Alan took advantage of the momentum and rowed harder. Caitriona matched his every move.
But even with the wind at their backs the way was not easy.
Innis and his men were flooding their boats; many already out beyond the breaker. The Norsemen, practiced at such rough seas, were not much slowed either.
The only upside to their endeavor was that the isle also grew closer. Yet that meant they would soon be amidst waves hungry for their shoreline. From start to finish, following another man’s lead had been challenging for Alan. Never more so than now. Even if it was Adlin MacLomain. “Very soon we will not be in a position to fight even if we wanted to.”
Adlin knew, his wise eyes hard on Alan. “Unless one of us stays and one of us goes.”
Had that been a consideration, he would have put Caitriona in the other boat and turned around now. However, it still could be. “Take Caitriona. I will stay.”
“Nay!” She twisted and looked at him. “I will not leave you.”
“My lass said as much,” Adlin said. “Look where she is now.”
Alan had already pulled his boat alongside theirs.
“Nay, I will not. Mildred and I have different circumstances.” Her eyes pleaded with Alan. “Dinnae allow this to happen!”
“It should have from the start,” Adlin said.
Alan was impressed with the MacLomain’s swiftness. Despite her flailing and ranting, he easily got her into the other boat and sat in Alan’s. “Push away.”
When he pushed off, Caitriona leaned over to grab his boat. She would have fallen in had Stephen not caught her. “Sit, lass. Now!”
“Blast you both,” Caitriona spat and plunked down. She was so busy being furious that there was no time for her to worry as Alan turned their boat around.
He cast Stephen one last look and spoke within the mind. Keep your promise.
The Broun nodded.
10 Timeless Heroes; A Time Travel Romance Boxed Set Page 127