Kitty could only sit and watch helplessly, as she had for the last hour.
“Kitty?” The face was still alien, frightening, but the voice was clearly Shona’s.
Kitty jumped out of the chair and froze. Shona’s face was changing again.
“Kitty?” Her voice was weak, a harsh whisper. “Where am I?” Shona slowly opened her eyes to find the answer.
Cats.
She tried to focus on the furry face in front of her. “Sinclair?” Sinclair let out a horrid wail.
Shona grimaced, pulled a hand from underneath two other cats and patted Sinclair on the head. He purred louder.
“Are you all right, Shona?” Kitty asked cautiously.
Shona studied her a moment. “I think so. You do not look well, though. What is the matter?” She pushed herself up with her elbows and studied her. “You look like you have seen a ghost.”
Kitty offered a poor excuse for a smile and shrugged.
“What time is it?”
Kitty reluctantly tore her gaze from Shona and glanced at the clock on the wall behind her. “Almost three. We need to get going.”
“Going?”
“Shona, don’t you remember? Don’t you remember anything?”
“Remember?”
Kitty approached the bed slowly and knelt on the floor a few feet away. “This morning? Julia? Your dad and mom practically carried you to my car so I could bring you here.”
“This morning… Julia.” Shona’s mind was a blank. She sat up slowly and tried to think, but the effort clouded her thoughts.
Sinclair let out another screeching wail, sending several cats skittering off the bed. He watched them go as he repositioned himself in Shona’s lap, and began to bat at a lock of her hair.
Shona petted him absently. “Julia.” Her eyes flew to Kitty’s. “I think she wanted to do something to me.” Her hand stopped. Sinclair looked from Shona to Kitty and back then batted at her hair again.
“We have to go, Shona. He’s going to be there soon. Your dad wants to talk to him.”
“What? Who? Where?”
“The library. I have to have you there by three. He’s going to meet us.”
“Meet us?” Longing suddenly cut deep across Shona’s heart. Sinclair froze and looked right into her eyes.
“That guy from yesterday, Shona. Don’t be mad at me, but I called him. He’s meeting us there. We’ve got to go.”
“I feel really strange…”
“We have to go to the library now. Please, Shona, get up so we can go.”
“Kitty, I am very confused…”
Kitty went to the bed and sat. “The guy from the library? Your dad thinks he might be able to help.”
Shona gave her a blank stare.
“Your dad said Philip wouldn’t be able to take you if… if you were already…” Kitty bit her lip and began to tremble. “Oh, Shona, this is too much for me. What is happening to you?”
“Happening to me? I do not understand… I… oh.” Shona had a sudden and very disturbing thought. “I was sleeping, wasn’t I?”
Kitty nodded, eyes wide, her mouth still trembling.
Shona reached up to let her fingers roam her face. “Oh, no.”
“Your face changed, Shona. It was so freaky. I didn’t know what to do and these darn cats wouldn’t let me near you.” Kitty’s voice was perfectly controlled, even and solid— a sure sign she was close to panic.
Shona could only stare at her in horror, her own worst fear suddenly realized. All the changes, all those nights, months worth. They were all real. "Oh. My. God."
Kitty hugged herself. "I have to take you to the library now. Please.”
Sinclair planted his forepaws against Shona's chest, his face in hers. She stared dumbly at the cat in her lap, her voice flat. “I think I am going crazy.”
Kitty hugged herself again as if trying to keep her own apprehension on the bed.
Shona caught the fear in her eyes and fought the lump of panic building in her throat. “Oh, Kitty! Kitty, please do not be afraid of me. I do not know what is happening. This is what I wanted to tell you, but I was so afraid you would not believe me.”
Kitty’s eyes slowly wandered over Shona’s features. She reached out a cautious hand and touched her face. “I don’t understand, Shona. What could possibly be happening? And Julia, why would she want to hurt you?”
Shona took Kitty’s hand from her face and held it. “She said she had something in her purse. I do not know what she meant, really. I only know she wanted to hurt me. I have never seen her act like that before.”
“Her purse?” Realization dawned on Kitty’s face. “So that’s why she wanted me to get it so fast. She was going to drug you! My own sister!”
Shona looked to the clock. “Where is my father? Is he going to be at the library?”
“Yes, he told me to have you there at three.”
“And… the man from yesterday?” she asked, her head still swimming with confusion.
“Will be there too. We have to go, Shona. We’re out of time.”
Shona squeezed her friend’s hand as an odd need filled her, a combination of fear, longing and loneliness. “Kitty, I’m scared.”
Kitty hugged her, smashing Sinclair between them. “So am I. But your dad will know what to do.”
* * *
John paced. Again.
“Eaton, calm down. Everything’s going to be fine. I’m sure he has the Maiden’s best interests in mind.”
John stopped, hands held behind his back to throw a worried face at Lany, now fully recovered from the morning’s activities. “We don’t know that. What we do know is he works for Brennan, both he and his wife. We still can’t be sure if he’s completely on our side.” He began to pace again.
Lany grabbed a nearby chair and wearily sat while he watched his superior fret over Evan Whittard’s request to meet Dallan. He grabbed a book from one of the nearby shelves and absently thumbed through it. “Besides, you know what a charmer Dallan is. He’ll have him eating out of his hand in no time.”
John’s pacing ground to a halt, his eyes widened to the size of saucers.
Lany shrugged. “If Dallan doesn’t pound him into baby food first, that is.”
John nodded readily and paced even faster.
“Any sign o’ the Maiden yet?” Angus shuffled his way down a connecting aisle. A freshly groomed and dressed Dallan trailed behind him, eyeing his surroundings with suspicion.
John stopped and gripped the back of a chair. “Not yet.”
Lany reached over and patted his superior’s white-knuckled hands, shaking his head.
John straightened himself and let go the chair. “They’ll be here soon.”
Angus looked from one face to the other, his eyes finally coming to rest on Dallan. “Remember what I told ye, laddie.” He winked at him and smiled.
Dallan smiled back and commented lightly in Gaelic. Angus replied in the same language and both men began to chuckle.
“Are you going to let the rest of us in on it, or do we have to guess?” Lany grinned as he stood and examined Dallan’s attire.
Dallan glared at him but stopped when Angus barked something in Gaelic. Dallan shoved his hands into the pockets of the faded jeans he wore and vainly tried to pull the material away from his body.
Lany continued to take in the Scot’s appearance. “Who dressed you?”
Dallan glared at Angus.
Lany turned to the beaming old Scot. “Angus, I don’t think he’s very comfortable in those.”
Angus hobbled over and adjusted a shirt sleeve Dallan began to play with. “The lassie’s here like the lads when they dress like this.”
Lany raised a brow. “How would you know?”
“I’ve been here a little over a year now, Master Lany. Och, go downstairs and look at some o’ the papers on the racks. I’m telling ye, all the lads dress like this.”
“He looks fine, Lany.” John walked over and began to turn ba
ck the cuff of Dallan’s other sleeve. “Nice white shirt, blue…” He glanced at Dallan’s legs, “whatever those things are, blue pants?”
“Denims.” Lany corrected.
“Nay, they be jeans.”
“They be too bloody tight.” All heads turned toward Dallan’s gruff words, the first English he had spoken since Zara sang to him several hours ago.
John’s entire body relaxed as he breathed a sigh of relief. He was beginning to wonder if Dallan was ever going to come out of Zara’s hold. Or was it the Maiden’s? “You look fine.”
“I feel like a sausage. I’d much prefer my kilt, John. Why can I no wear it?”
John’s eyes softened. “You’d be quite the sight.”
Dallan picked at the buttons on his fresh shirt and whispered. “Aye, as ye say.” His features suddenly became pained. “As with everything else.”
Angus shook his head sadly and shuffled his feet about.
John watched him a moment before turning back to Dallan. “Not much longer, Dallan. We’re almost through here. Then we can all go home.”
Dallan’s expression remained cold as stone. “Does that include me, too?”
John swallowed hard. “Yes.”
“Eaton…”
John held up a calming hand. “It’s all right. We’ll worry about it when the time comes.”
“Eaton, you can’t tell him ... I mean… the Elders…”
John turned to face Lany. “Can all go hang on this one.”
Dallan raised an eyebrow at the remark while Lany sat, dumbfounded. “You’d be sacrificing your career.”
John shook his head, eyes once again locked with Dallan’s. “Not my career, merely a postponement of advancement.”
Lany’s brow furrowed, as he grabbed and steered John away from the rest of the group. “Postponement?” He whispered. “Living stars, we’re talking Lord High Councilor! Eaton, you’d be throwing away the chance of a lifetime. No one under age sixty has ever held that position. You’re in your early forties! Do you realize what it would mean if you got it at your age?” He noticed his superior’s sincere expression then looked over his shoulder to the Weapons Master’s helpless one. “I’ll shut up now.” He smiled to himself. “Should be interesting at that.”
John slowly tore his gaze from Dallan’s to look at Lany. “Can you feel her yet?”
Lany collected himself, paused as if listening, then shook his head.
Angus pulled a pocket watch out of his pants and flipped it open. “Ten past three.”
John paced anew. “Why are women always late?”
Dallan suddenly stood to his full height as his eyes searched the connecting aisles in a furtive manner, breathing quickened, his hands balled into fists.
John watched him a moment then took a deep breath. “Are we ready?”
Lany stood next to Dallan. “Ready here. Angus?”
“Aye, the lad and I are, uh, wait a minute.” Angus began to search through his pockets. “I ken I put it… Och, aye, here it is.” He pulled out a folded piece of parchment and sighed triumphantly.
“What’s that?” Lany asked, eyeing the paper with mild curiosity.
Angus beamed. “Ye’ll see. ‘Tis another thing the lassies like.”
“As long as it works.” Lany watched Dallan battle the urge to fly down the nearest aisle and begin his instinctive search for the Maiden. His entire body trembled and his telltale twitch danced merrily from one side of his face to the other. “Easy, Dallan. She’s not going anywhere.”
Dallan’s body jerked hard and he fell against a nearby table, barely able to stand. He gripped the table’s edge for support and pushed himself back up. John and Lany helped him, their faces grave with concern. The inevitable was now running its course and there was no way to stop it without great risk. Still, it was a risk they were all willing to take. At this point the company from Muirara would do almost anything to make their quest succeed. They had no choice.
Dallan, at last convinced of his importance to the Known Lands, ready to accept responsibility and now fully prepared to take and join with the Muiraran Maiden, was also slowly, steadily and painfully dying. Zara had not been strong enough to repair everything.
The Weapons Master stood straight, his back stiff. “Thank ye.”
Lany nodded at him and turned to John, his face white. “Eaton?”
“He’ll be all right.” John looked up into Dallan’s eyes. “Hang on, Dallan. Just a few more hours and you’ll be fine.”
Dallan’s posture slumped. “What? I feel strange. The lass, where is she?” His voice was weak, tired and… hungry.
Lany bit his lip. “Angus and I can take you to her.” He took him by the arm and began to lead him down an aisle.
Angus positioned himself on the other side. “’Tis the second time that’s happened, Master Lany. I thought once Zara sang he would get better.”
“That’s not always how it works.”
Dallan let himself be led, too tired to argue, his pain growing. “I’m hungry… I need some thing ... I dinna ken what it is. What’s wrong with me?”
“We’re almost there, Dallan. Hang on.” Lany was supporting him now.
Dallan stumbled over his own feet, as Lany and Angus grunted in their efforts to hold him up, fighting their own fear and worry. Zara’s song had prepared Dallan for the Maiden, opened his heart and soul so he might take into himself her “inner heart.” But by doing so, she had also opened him to the pain of the horrible emptiness which now attacked him. His defenses were down, both to the Maiden and to their enemies.
Lany and Angus brought Dallan to the end of the aisle and sat him down at a small table. Angus bent and whispered encouragingly in Dallan’s ear. “There now, lad. Look yonder.”
Dallan’s breathing was labored, and he had to pause before he raised his head to search his surroundings. Sitting at a large table, half hidden by a low shelf of books sat the Maiden and her friend. He immediately tried to rise, his eyes now wide with need, breathing suddenly rapid.
“Easy, Dallan.” Lany whispered in his other ear as he gently pushed him back into the chair. “Look at her. Gain your strength first. You don’t want to fall on your face.” He turned to Angus, his expression grave. “What were you going to have him do?”
Angus reached into his pocket, pulled out the folded piece of paper and handed it to Lany. He unfolded and quickly read the brief note, then gave Angus a curious look.
The old Scot smiled. “’Tis the perfect place. Not far away.”
Lany smiled. “Good idea.”
“’Twasn’t my idea.”
Lany raised a questioning brow.
Angus nodded in Dallan’s direction and smiled.
Lany smiled himself as he lightly patted Dallan on the back. He leaned near his ear again. “Give yourself a moment. When you feel you can go over there on your own, give her this. If possible, touch her hand, anything. Just be sure you touch her, Dallan. It will make you feel better.”
Dallan continued to stare at the Maiden, his breathing ragged but steadying. He was surprised at how the mere sight of her already had made him feel stronger. Just being near her.
* * *
“What is that, Shona? Why is it so important?” Kitty peered at the book in Shona’s hands as she nervously bounced in her chair.
“He wanted to show me something in this, but he never got the chance. I do not know what.” Shona held the book between her hands as if praying. “He said it would tell me who he is, where he came from. How we are able to…” She looked absently at Kitty. "Understand each other so well.”
Kitty stopped her fidgeting and stared at her, unable to find any words to match the look of helpless longing on Shona’s face. “I still don’t understand what’s going on, but I want you to know that no matter what happens, I’ll always be by your side and I promise to help any way I can.”
Shona smiled as her eyes brightened. “Thank you. I cannot ask you to get too involved, as I do no
t know how dangerous this might get. I have strange feelings of warning. But I am glad you are with me here, now. The waiting is what is so hard. But I do not know what I am waiting for.”
“Maybe you’re waiting for your Prince Charming to come along, just like me!”
Shona glared at Kitty before smiling. Kitty began to giggle just as Shona's smile widened, eyes suddenly intent on what approached their table.
Kitty followed her gaze, turning completely around in her chair.
The mysterious man whose name Shona still did not know slowly walked toward them, but without his usual smooth, graceful gait. He appeared to be in great pain, but his face evoked simple pleasure and warmth as he smiled gently at them.
He stopped next to Kitty’s chair and stared down at Shona, his eyes immediately seeking her own.
Shona slumped slightly in response, and he reached out to her with a large hand. She took it without question. Warmth spread through both their bodies at the meager contact, chasing away the threat of death which now clung to them.
She squeezed his hand and watched his whole body sigh with relief. His eyes were pained and tired, but his smile was honest, warm and strong. Hello.
She leaned forward, squeezing his hand again. What is wrong? Are you not well? How can I help?
His eyes brightened at her concern and he smiled again, but did not answer.
Please, speak to me. What is wrong? I feel so strange, like I want to help you but I do not know how. She shook herself suddenly as if chilled. What is happening to me? I…
Her control gone, she captured his eyes and gripped him hard, knowing that for the first time she controlled him. She stood on tiptoe, opened her mouth and very softly began to sing.
Dallan’s body lunged backward, but she held him fast, her voice pulling him back to her as well as her hands. The earlier cold which stalked him retreated from her song. Music that held no mercy for the cold emptiness trying to claim him.
Time Masters Book One; The Call (An Urban Fantasy, Time Travel Romance) Page 37