“She was born six months ago.” Delilah smiled. “Her name is Emily. We’ll go meet her once you drink that glass of water,” she said, giving Bethany a warning look. “I know better than to try to get you to rest in bed, but you can at least hydrate yourself. Time travel takes a lot out of you.”
This is ridiculous, Bethany thought faintly as she followed her sister through the winding corridors and spiraling staircases of what definitely did appear to be a functional medieval castle. Ridiculous, to expect her to believe in magic, in witchcraft, in spells and curses, in time travel and destiny and descendants being pulled back through time and space itself by true love… and even more ridiculous that a tiny but growing part of her extremely sharp and rational mind was coming to believe that everything Delilah told her was true.
How else could she explain being in a medieval castle? This was no ruin — the walls were all intact, no sign of age or weathering to reveal that they were hundreds of years old. Servants kept moving past them, no signs of any modern clothing, no telltale wristwatches or smartphones in their pockets… and whenever she peeked out a window in the walls, she saw nothing but rolling hills and trees as far as the eye could see. No city skylines… and she realized with a jolt that the landscape was very familiar. Sure enough, there was the road, running down a familiar slope… that was the road she’d driven up from town to search the ruins. The castle she was standing in… it matched the location of the ruin she’d been exploring precisely.
What other explanation was there — other than time travel?
But that was absurd. Better to just reserve all judgment — let Delilah show her around, let her tell whatever mad story she believed. Information gathering, that was what she was doing. Just gathering information… about this incredibly realistic medieval castle, with guards and servants walking past as though nothing was wrong, giving her the occasional curious look. She definitely didn’t fit in, in her twenty-first century Army uniform, but she felt oddly more secure about having it on. At least she had her gun on her hip. The gun was very reassuring. And her phone was in her pocket, too — she was grateful that she’d charged it fully in the car on the way up the hill. It was new, too, so the battery would last a good while… at least until she could get out of this deeply bizarre cult that Delilah had found. Or whatever it was.
But what was she going to do if she really was in the fifteenth century? Good battery life or no, she didn’t feel like her device was going to make it until the invention of electricity…
She shook herself, trying to focus. Delilah was telling her all about the castle, about when it had been built, and for what purpose… something about an ongoing war with the English. That, at least, made sense. There was usually a war going on… although apparently, though tensions were still present, there was currently a kind of uneasy truce going on between the Scottish and the English. This castle was the home of Clan MacClaran. She’d already met one member — Gavin, Delilah’s so-called husband, a member of the guard.
“Do they have much guarding to do, if there’s no war?”
“You still need guards,” Delilah said, sounding exasperated. “They keep the castle safe from robbers and mercenaries and any kind of threat. Like the villagers.”
“Fair enough,” Bethany shrugged. She wasn’t especially interested in security guards. “The villagers are a threat, are they?”
“I mean, not most of them. But… well, there are a lot of rumors about this place, especially with all the women who get brought back here from the future. Rumors of witchcraft. They’ve had a few problems with groups who are determined to stamp out witchcraft — mercenaries, priests, that kind of thing. But you’ll hear all those stories soon enough. Come and meet Emily,” she said brightly, stopping them in front of a wooden door. “These are our quarters.”
Sure enough, she led her through into a pleasant little room — and there was a bright, enthusiastic cry of delight. There, standing upright in a wooden crib with a pair of chubby fists gripping the bars of the crib, stood a little baby with a pair of bright green eyes and an unmistakable resemblance to Delilah. Bethany crossed the room, staring at her as Delilah scooped her out of the crib and jiggled her on her hip, cooing to her.
“How on earth —” she breathed, her mind racing. The baby was the spitting image of her sister and no mistake — the only difference were those bright green eyes, which clearly belonged to the green-eyed giant man she’d met earlier. Bethany took a seat abruptly on a chair by a table, her head spinning, the lingering feeling of vertigo returning with a vengeance. Delilah, carrying the baby, came over to join her, the look of love on her face unmistakable as she handled the child with an expertise that was completely new. The last time Bethany had seen Delilah hold a baby, she’d looked like she was terrified of breaking it. But this baby, she held with the natural ease of…
Of a mother.
“This is Emily.” Delilah smiled, handing the baby to Bethany, who was too shell-shocked to do anything but take her. “Emily, meet your Aunty Bethany. Aunty Beth?”
“Bethany’s fine,” she said faintly. She’d never liked the shortened version of her name — it felt like an old woman’s name. “Hi, Emily.” She stared up at her sister, completely lost for words.
Delilah was smiling. “Do you believe me now?”
“She looks just like you, Delilah,” Bethany said faintly. “How — how — “
“Like I said. I’ve been here a year and a half. You could probably see that my wrinkles are a year deeper if you had good enough eyes,” she chuckled, “I know it’s a lot, but… but it’s real.”
“I can’t believe it,” Bethany said, shaking her head. “I can’t believe in magic.”
“Ah. Well. Funny you should mention that.” There was a curious look in Delilah’s eyes. “Hey, Emily! Want to play the game?”
The baby giggled, raising her chubby hands and wiggling in delight. Delilah reached down to pick up a wooden horse from the ground. “Ready?”
“Bah!” the baby shouted. Bethany watched as Delilah lifted the horse a few times — then tossed it into the air and took a step back. Expecting it to fall to the ground, Bethany frowned — then stared in shock as instead of falling, the horse froze in midair, floating there as if held by an invisible string. As she watched, the horse began to drift through the air as if an invisible current was steering it. It floated closer and closer to Emily, whose little hands were extended toward it… and finally it got close enough for the baby to grab it out of the air.
“What the hell was that?” Bethany said blankly, staring at Delilah, who’d watched the whole thing with a broad grin on her face.
“That was Emily,” Delilah said simply. “Like I said… we’re both descended from Morag, a witch with real powers. I don’t have any myself… but Emily sure does.”
Bethany stared down at the baby in her lap. If she hadn’t witnessed the floating toy for herself, she’d hardly have believed that it was possible… but how could she reject the evidence of her own eyes? How could she keep refusing to believe she was in a medieval castle, when the evidence of her senses, not to mention her beloved sister, kept telling her she was?
The dizziness roared through her mind again — Delilah scooped the baby out of her lap and returned her to her crib, a look of concern on her face.
“I think you need some rest,” she said softly, helping Bethany to her feet. “I’ll take you back to that room, okay? That can be your room for now, until we figure something out.”
Figure something out, Bethany thought, fighting an insane urge to laugh. Yes, she certainly had a few things to figure out, that was for sure. Like where the hell she was, when the hell she was, what the hell she was doing here… and how the hell she was going to get back home.
Chapter 5
The trip back to the room was a whirlwind. She could feel that she was on the edge of passing out — whatever stress her body was under had gotten too much for it to bear, and even her strong will wasn’
t going to be able to fight off the need to rest for long. Delilah helped her into bed and tucked the blanket around her, pressing a kiss to her forehead and promising to come back with some food for her shortly. Food would help, she promised.
“I just ate,” Bethany tried to say… but the bed was too soft and too comfortable, and it wasn’t long before sleep had risen up like a wave to claim her, dragging her under. She dozed for a long time, peripherally aware of Delilah creeping into the room with what looked like a plate of bread rolls, which she left on the bedside table along with another glass of water. She forced herself to sit up and drink the water, reasoning that even if it was drugged, it was better to be drugged than to die of dehydration… but the effort took it out of her, and it wasn’t long before she was asleep again.
When she awoke again, it was dark outside, a blanket of stars visible through the little window in her room. They were incredibly bright, she reflected, peering through the window… no light pollution around here to block them out, she supposed. Her stomach was growling, and she took a few of the bread rolls that her sister had left and tore into them ravenously. There was a covered bowl behind the plate of rolls, and she uncovered it to discover a bowl of what looked like hearty stew, full of chunks of meat and vegetables. It looked delicious, and even though it was cold, it was absolutely perfect. She wolfed it down with the rest of the bread, marveling at how bottomless her appetite felt… but by the time it was finished, she was exhausted again. She just had to trust that she was safe here, she supposed, frowning a little as she lapsed into sleep. Surely Delilah wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her…
Sure enough, she awoke at dawn, safe and sound… but ravenously hungry again. There was a tapping on her door, and there was Delilah, a tray in her hands and a hopeful smile on her face as she crept quietly into the room.
“Hey! You’re awake.”
“Barely,” Bethany mumbled, dragging herself upright. “I just — couldn’t keep my eyes open. Did I seriously sleep all through yesterday?”
“You needed it,” Delilah said seriously. “Like I said — time travel takes it out of you. Everyone who came from the future had a similar experience, don’t worry. Food will help,” she added, looking at the empty plate. “I see you ate the stew?”
“It was amazing. I couldn’t stop.”
“Mary MacClaran is a fantastic cook,” Delilah smiled. “Everyone’s very excited to meet you.”
Bethany frowned. “Everyone?” She thought back to the list of names that the odd little servant girl had rattled off. “The servant said something about a bunch of women… Audrina? Cora?”
“Yeah, among others.” Delilah smiled. “But I’m not going to let them come visit until you’re feeling stronger, okay? And step one is eating a hearty breakfast. I hope you like oatmeal — it’s kind of a staple here.”
Bethany’s stomach growled as Delilah showed her the bowl she’d brought — it was full of creamy oatmeal, with what looked like a dollop of honey on top. “I eat Army food, Delilah,” she said, grinning. “I’ll eat anything. You know me.”
But the oatmeal was absolutely delicious — miles above the kind of gruel she’d had in her time in the Army. “They call it porridge,” Delilah explained with a shrug. “But we all know it’s oatmeal.”
“These other time travelers, they’re all American?”
“Yeah,” Delilah said, shrugging. “Not sure why. Coincidence, maybe?” She paused, fixing her sister with a thoughtful look. “So you — you’re convinced?”
“Convinced that I’ve traveled through time to medieval Scotland? Yeah, I guess so. I mean, I’m not exactly flush with other explanations, am I?” She gestured around the little room, the rough stone walls, the clearly handmade furniture, the narrow window that looked out onto not much more but trees and fields as far as the eye could see. “Unless you’re staging an impressively elaborate prank, here, I guess I’m going to have to go with time travel. Because the only other explanation I’ve got at this point is that I’ve suffered some kind of head trauma that’s making me dream all this, and that’s not exactly useful.”
“That’s exactly the conclusion I came to.” Delilah grinned, reaching out to give her an affectionate pat. “But you’ve come to it a lot faster than I did.”
“Survival mode, I guess.” Bethany shrugged. “So… I’m assuming there’s no way back?”
A guarded look came across Delilah’s face. “What makes you say that?”
“Oh, just… nobody’s ever heard of anything like this. Missing people, sure, but nobody’s ever suspected time travel. If there was a way back, someone would have used it by now, and we’d know about it. And I’ve seen plenty of classified shit, but I’ve never seen anything about someone coming from the past to the present. So. We’re stuck here, right?”
“Right,” Delilah said simply. “Took me a lot longer to figure that out, too. Yeah, there’s no way back.”
“I figured.” Bethany shrugged. “If there was any way to get word to us, you’d have done it, right? Especially since you’ve got all the time in the world back here.”
“Yeah. I tried for a while to figure something out, but… no dice.”
“Would you even want to go back, at this point?” Bethany asked curiously, looking hard at her sister. “I mean, you’re married. You’ve got a baby. You look happier than I think I’ve ever seen you…”
“I am,” Delilah said, a smile on her face. “I think… I know it sounds ridiculous, but I think I was always meant to be here. The worst thing about it was not being able to get word to you guys — to Michael, or to Mom and Dad —”
“Shit,” Bethany swore under her breath. “Now I’m gone, too. Two daughters, lost in Scotland. They’re going to be so upset.”
“We’ll figure something out,” Delilah promised as Bethany finished her porridge. “We’ll find a way to get a message to them, even if we have to engrave it on a pot and bury it in the countryside or something. We’ll tell them we’re fine, that we lived long, happy lives back here.”
“I hope so,” Bethany said. She was in survival mode — take in as much information as possible, process it fast, take what’s useful and keep moving — but part of her was getting progressively overwhelmed by the new information she was being confronted with. Her big sister, married with children… god, she was an aunty… time travel being real, magic being real… being stuck in medieval Scotland for the rest of her natural life… the pieces were all beginning to add up. She took a few deep breaths, trying to steady herself a little. Delilah was looking at her cautiously.
“It’s a lot to take in, I know,” she said gently. “Take as much time as you need —”
“I don’t need any time,” she said briskly, pulling herself upright and swinging her legs out of bed. To her satisfaction, she was less dizzy than she had been the day before, and her muscles were happier about responding to her commands. She could tell she wasn’t a hundred percent mended, but she was a lot better than she had been. Good enough to get on her feet and get moving. “The best thing for this kind of culture shock is immersion therapy, I reckon. Gotta get out and amongst all this… medieval shit.”
“That’s the spirit.” Delilah grinned. “Gavin’s taking Emily all day so I can be your tour guide. We’ll have a good look around the castle, I’ll show you where to go for food and all that — if you’re feeling up to it, we could even head down to the village and have a look around.”
“It’s the same village that you were staying in, right? With the bed and breakfast?”
“Yes! I swear half the buildings were still the same…” Delilah turned to her as they headed for the door, frowning. “Hang on. Do you know how to ride a horse?”
“Yeah. Mom taught me.” Bethany hesitated. Their parents were still something of a sore subject between them. Though they rarely actually talked about it, it was pretty clear that Delilah felt that their mother was responsible for the divorce… where Bethany felt it was their father. They
both hesitated a little — but Delilah was the first one to find a change of subject.
“You’ll be wanting a change of clothes, right?”
But Bethany shrugged. “These’ll be good for a few days at least.”
“Seriously?” Delilah wrinkled her nose. “Haven’t you been wearing them for like… two days straight?”
“What, do I smell bad? I thought medieval people only bathed once a week. I’m trying to fit in.”
Delilah huffed. “Not around here. Karin put a stop to that pretty quickly when she turned up. She’s a disease specialist,” she explained. “Used to work for the CDC.”
“Seriously? And she got — whooshed back here too?”
“Yep,” Delilah said. “Audrina was a trauma nurse, so she’s pretty intense about hygiene, too. Everyone in the castle has started following their instructions to keep clean, and it’s resulted in much lower disease rates… which hasn’t exactly helped the castle’s reputation for being a hive of witchcraft, but that’s a separate issue. Anyway, you need to change your clothes. I brought you some spares, they’re in the drawer there.”
Bethany didn’t care much for that bossy older sister tone, but she opened the drawer… and wrinkled her nose at what she saw there. “Seriously, Delilah? A bunch of dresses? Have you ever even met me?”
“It’s this place,” Delilah said, sighing. “A lot of the people are… you know, a little traditional. It’ll win you some favor among the locals if you opt for more ladylike dress.”
“Ladylike dress? Are you kidding?”
“Please? Just for a few days? I’ll get you some trousers later, I promise, I just… I want people to like you.” Delilah looked anxious, and Bethany narrowed her eyes.
“If I wear this stuff, they’re going to assume I’m a witch?”
“They might.” Delilah sighed. “Strange clothing is one of the signs of witchcraft they carry on about, down in the village. Theoretically, everyone in the castle is pretty cool about it all, but gossip still spreads somehow… I think some of the servants are less okay with it all than others. So if you could just… wear a dress and play nice, it’d go a long way to keeping us all safe.”
Highlander Avenged: A Scottish Time Travel Romance Page 4