10 Timeless Heroes; A Time Travel Romance Boxed Set

by P. L. Parker, Beth Trissel, L. L. Muir, Skhye Moncrief, Sky Purington, Nancy Lee Badger, Caroline Clemmons, Bess McBride, Donna Michaels

  The enemy was nearly on them, the fury in Innis’s eyes wicked and directed not just at Adlin but at Caitriona. Chants streamed from his lips. When Alan looked over his shoulder he saw the other three struggling to keep their boat moving. The enemy wizard was indeed strong.

  “We meet again, MacLomain!” Innis roared.

  “Magic now, Stewart,” Adlin said.

  Alan didn’t need to be told twice. He began to chant. “Harness the lightening against mine enemy. Energy against energy. Capistrum fulgur adversus inimicum meum. Contra industria industria.”

  It was a small bit of magic but effective.

  Innis became an electric conduit.

  Lightening streaked down, sizzling over the water, seeking the dark Highlander.

  Furious, Innis began chanting to keep the errant sparks away.

  Meanwhile, more boats flooded forward.

  Alan had no choice but to battle them with magic even as Caitriona, Stephen and Arianna began fighting off the Norse. A sinking sensation began in the pit of his stomach. This was all happening too fast.

  There was prophecy here.

  When a Norsemen was nearly on Arianna, Caitriona kicked him hard in the gut and he lurched overboard. She had just saved the Broun’s life as Stephen had said she would. Alan and Stephen’s eyes locked.

  The prophecy.

  Dark, looming, determined, it would see its conclusion over these violent, uncompromising waters. He turned back and began to shoot arrows toward the oncoming clan. When he wasn’t shooting, Alan blasted them with as much magic as possible

  Innis and Adlin now wore the robes of their calling.

  “Alan!” Caitriona screamed.

  Everything seemed to slow as he turned. Dagger in hand, she tried to fight off a Norse warrior. Determined yet confused, the enemy’s eyes locked on the dagger in recognition. He started to yell foreign words over his shoulder. But the pure momentum of his attack on her had already caused Caitriona to stumble backwards into the frothing, hungry sea.

  Innis recovered enough in that moment to deflect the unending lightening streaking around him. The man was so powerful that the energy had not burned him but been like a fly, nothing more than a slight nuisance. Recovered, his sole regard was now focused on Caitriona.

  And he was blind with rage.

  Everything slowed considerably as magic whiplashed between the wizards. The clouds turned sluggish in their roll across the heavens. The waves appeared to thicken, their liquid moving more like heated molten steel. Though his hair blew in the wind, no breeze could be felt.

  Thunder crashed, its sound somehow a terrible boom that rippled the water outward.

  Never once taking his eyes off Caitriona, Innis raised his hand in the air.

  So too did Adlin MacLomain.

  Slower and slower still the water moved. Its current became a petrifying whirlpool with his lass at the heart of it.

  “Nay!” Alan roared and jumped overboard.

  Caught in the extreme outburst of conflicting powers, even the air turned thick and it seemed forever before he hit the water. All the while, he watched Caitriona slip beneath the waves. Heart wrenching terror seized his chest.

  The prophecy.

  He was going to lose her.

  Alan inhaled deeply and pushed down beneath the water. The only thing illuminating his way were flashes of magic and lightening spiking down through the water. His magic had depleted fast around the arch wizard’s own. Now he could only rely on brute strength and his love for her. Every muscle straining, he swam down and toward where he’d last seen her.

  He reached into her mind. “Where are you, my love?”

  But there was barely a flicker there.

  Her life-force, the very thing that made Caitriona who she was, started to twirl away into the abysmal darkness. An impregnable void rose up between them, much deeper and far more mysterious than the sea itself. Alan kicked harder and harder. Enraged with the gods, he pushed through the water as if it was those very deities and he meant to push them aside. They would not prevail. They could not have her.

  Then he saw her.

  Far below.

  She sank fast and quickly vanished from his sight once more.

  It didn’t matter that there was little air left in his lungs and no magic remaining to refuel.

  Alan went after her.

  Down, down, down. He would find her. There was no other choice. To live without her was no option. So, he kept pushing down, deeper. The water grew colder, his limbs more sluggish. But still he pushed.

  I willnae let you go.

  Frigid, the water fought him. Still, Alan didn’t give up. If she was leaving this life, so too was he. So he swam and swam until, through the mercy of his gods or the grace of hers, he caught her.

  “Caitriona, I am here,” he whispered into her mind.

  But he was too late.

  She was already gone.

  The waters had grown far too dark to see her face so he pulled her into his arms. There was no going back for either of them. Alan stroked her hair then felt the contours of her sweet face. He closed her eyes then shut his own.

  He envisioned her as she had been within the oak the first time they’d made love, the joy in her bonnie brown eyes then their blue brilliance when her magic flared. He remembered the magic they shared, the intimate moments. As the last of the air in his lungs bubbled away he whispered into her mind. It no longer mattered if she was there or not, he whispered what he had said back then.

  “When you were near me, I felt your goodness. When you were not, I felt it too. I could list so many reasons to love you but only one makes it true. The verra way I feel when I am around you, when I look at you, hear you, taste you. There is a great thing that resides in your soul and I am privileged enough to have recognized it. I am no different than the next man only more extraordinary because you have decided to love me back.”

  Alan could not feel his body or hers next to his.

  But it no longer mattered.

  They were at peace.

  “I will find you in the next life, my love.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Voices drifted in and out. It was hard to tell where they came from. Then, through all the confusion, Arianna’s words came through clearly.

  “For an arch wizard, you are really not that bright, eh?”

  “Any one of you could have suggested the proper course of action to begin with,” Adlin replied haughtily.

  “He makes a good point, Arianna,” Stephen said. “We could of.”

  “You take this boat, I will take that boat,” Arianna rattled on.

  “Shhh,” Caitriona croaked, peeling open her stinging eyes. Nay, too bright. She shut them. “Where am I?”

  “She is awake!” Adlin exclaimed, his voice coming closer.

  “How do you feel, lass?” Stephen asked.

  “The poor thing looks horrid,” Arianna said. “But she is awake!”

  Caitriona tried to remember where she was. All that came were flashes of light, Norsemen, wizards, chaotic weather and…Alan.

  “Where is he?” She tried to talk but her words were slurred and barely discernible. No matter how harsh, she fought to open her eyes against the pitiless light.

  “Did she say, fish the sea?” Arianna asked.

  “Is she hungry then?” Stephen asked. “I could ken why.”

  Adlin leaned closer. “Nay, I am quite sure it was, fare the tree.”

  “This tree?” Arianna asked. “Tell her it fares well.”

  “It does indeed,” Stephen agreed.

  What were these fools saying? Though painful, she muddled through the brightness until three figures formed, all concerned but clearly pleased she was awake. She licked her dry lips and repeated, “Where is he?”

  “He?” Adlin asked. “Oh! You must mean Alan.”

  “Who else would she mean?” Arianna asked.

  “A fish in the sea if you had your way,” Stephen commented.


  “Adlin.” Though weak, Caitriona grabbed his arm. “Please.”

  Adlin squeezed her hand affectionately, his warm blue eyes looking over her shoulder. “You are, as you were when we pulled you from the sea, still in his arms.”

  “He died for you,” Arianna said, dewy eyed.

  The air fled her lungs. Caitriona’s limbs went cold. Please God, no.

  Adlin shook his head. “You frighten the poor lass.” He put his other hand over her free hand. “Aye, he died but then…he lived. Feel what is beneath your fingertips. ‘Tis warm flesh, not cold.”

  Caitriona looked down and felt the strong forearm wrapped over her midsection. Tanned, muscled, familiar... Alan! Strength found in an instant, she twisted in his arms. Alan’s eyes were only just opening. Still, a smile blossomed on his somewhat drained face. “You are awake, my love. Thank the gods.”

  “Aye.” She touched his hair, cheek, chin, and shoulders, anything she could put her hands on. “I thought ‘twas our end out there. I thought I would never see you again.”

  “Now, lass,” he murmured. “I thought we agreed that twin souls always found one another again?”

  “But that made it no easier when I thought you were lost in this life.”

  “You know,” he said, pulling her closer, his lips a breath away. “No matter how necessary, I always thought our sentiment on that rather bleak. Who really wants to meet their true love only to let them go until the next life happens along?”

  Caitriona thought of Adlin but said nothing. The MacLomain would find his lass again. But now was not the time to focus on that. No, now was the time to cherish what was still here. Was that not how it would have to remain between them? “If we got through that then we can get through the prophecy.”

  “Nay,” Alan said and kissed her lightly. “I think the prophecy may be behind us. Look around.”

  When Caitriona finally did she gasped in amazement. It could not be possible.

  They had returned to the oak where the pouch of twigs had first been stashed. In fact, they lay in the very spot they’d first made love.

  “Hold out your hand,” Alan whispered. “Let me show you.”

  When she did he dropped the three rings into her palm.

  “Oh my!”

  Now where there had once been simple stones were gems. One was an emerald, one a sapphire and the third a diamond. They were beyond compare, glorious in their simplicity, in their very grace.

  Adlin grinned and helped her stand. Stephen pulled up Alan. Everyone embraced; truly happy to have returned to safety, all alive and well.

  “I dinnae understand,” Caitriona said.

  “Nor do we. Not quite yet,” Adlin said. “But I suspect we soon will.”

  “How did we get here?” Caitriona asked.

  “That we dinnae quite know either,” Arianna said. “One thing is for certain, when you raised that dagger against the Norse, it turned the tides of our seafaring battle.”

  “The one Iosbail gave me?”

  “Aye,” Stephen said. “It seems she and Alexander had enforced the blade with their own magic.”

  “He has a great deal of Norse in him,” Adlin said. “He used that to ensure it would speak to those of his bloodline. Iosbail made sure it would protect her friend and make her a queen in their eyes.”

  “A queen?” Caitriona asked.

  “Of course,” Alan said. “Makes perfect sense. The Norse have their own gods. If she let the blade know you were a mystic, a creature revered by many cultures, then the Norsemen would respect such and worship you above all others.”

  “So half our enemy became our ally,” said Arianna, a devious twinkle in her eye. “I always did like Iosbail MacLomain. We Broun lasses are always thinking ahead.”

  “You knew, Iosbail?” Caitriona asked.

  “Aye! When she is far older of course. But she didnae know me yet so there was no recognition.”

  Caitriona tucked the rings back in the pouch, shaking her head. “So what happened when the Norse turned on Innis?”

  Adlin chuckled. “You mean what didnae happen. With so many at our back instead of our front, Innis lost his focus. When he did, I wiped that devilish bastard right off God’s green Earth. Never has it felt so good to use my powers against another.”

  “And never has anyone deserved it more,” Stephen said.

  “So you say you dinnae know how we arrived back here,” Caitriona asked any who might answer. “What is the last thing you remember?”

  “Killing Innis,” Adlin responded.

  “Mimicking one of your tricks, Caitriona,” Arianna said. “I had just killed not two but three of the enemy with one single arrow!”

  “I had just leapt from our boat and landed in one of theirs, set to kill a man,” Stephen said.

  “I was holding you far beneath the water,” Alan murmured and pulled her close. “Our lives forfeit.”

  “Then we were all here,” Adlin said. He pointed where they’d been lying. “You two were there. Verra little time has passed since.”

  “But now there is a verra lot of time to come.”

  They turned, all startled to find a tall, golden warrior leaning against the tree. Fionn Mac Cumhail. Not a little old woman now but a Celtic warrior in his prime. Though daytime, fog had started seeping into the cave and curling around the branches.

  “Mildred,” Adlin said automatically.

  “You will see her again, my friend,” Fionn said and pushed away from the tree.

  Behind him, several ethereal warriors appeared alongside many animals of the forest. All were transparent, as though they were merely his shadow as he walked. When he held out his hand, Caitriona thought nothing about handing him the pouch.

  “From a twig and a simple pact made between wizard bairns.” He poured the rings into his large palm. “To these.”

  None spoke as he continued, his gaze going to Alan. “For the MacLomains. As you said, one is for those lost, one for those found and one for those made. Someone lost. Someone found. And someone made.”

  If Alan had held anger toward this god or any god along their journey, that emotion now fled. There remained no more resentment in the Stewart. He nodded. “Aye, for the MacLomains.”

  Fionn’s gaze swept over them all. “If not for you there would have been no hope. Your courage, love, everything that brought you to this place exists because of who you are.”

  Caitriona found it oddly enchanting that Fionn’s voice was no longer that of the Celts but held a distinct Scots burr. She knew he did it to comfort them.

  “This tree,” he said and looked at it with love. “Was not always here but once grew in the land of ‘Eire.”

  “How is that possible?” Arianna asked.

  “How is any of this possible?” He returned with a small smile on his handsome face. “None of his would be possible without Adlin MacLomain and Adlin would not be possible without any of this…without any of you.”

  Caitriona frowned. “‘Tis vague.”

  “As I am sure it will remain,” Adlin said. His eyes were already too old and wise for his youthful face.

  Fionn looked at Arianna. “‘Twas not just the wizard’s pact. If you had not all found the courage to follow your paths, your verra destinies, this would not have worked.”

  Stephen took Arianna’s hand. “But I suspect Arianna and I were just a small part of such a big thing.”

  “Nothing big can ever happen without the small things, I promise you that.” His gaze narrowed on Arianna, not so much to be sinister but to solidify his next words. “Never tell your tale precisely as it happened. You and Stephen have a strong, undying love. You will witness many others but always you will set the example. Allow your story to be told as you will, but never as it actually happened. For no one should ever know of this journey if its outcome is to conclude at its verra best.”

  “Now that sounds like something I would say,” Adlin remarked. “Complicated, controlling, meddlesome.”

 
; Fionn’s brows arched and a merry gleam entered his nearly glowing eyes. The warriors behind him wavered. “Is there any better way?”

  “Nay,” Adlin said. “Not that I have discovered.”

  The god’s eyes grew more serious, sad almost. “‘Tis nearly time for the last of the Highland Defiance’s to go to sleep. Your power has grown once more, Adlin MacLomain. The Defiances are no longer needed.”

  “I know,” the arch wizard murmured. “I always knew this day would come.”

  “And so it has,” Fionn said, his gaze turning to Caitriona and Alan. “But not quite yet.”

  They held hands as the god approached, his warriors and animals becoming clearer. “The prophecy has been fulfilled. Because of love recognized, because of souls reconnected, you pulled one another past death back into life. Your gifts truly did merge in this tree.”

  His strange, otherworldly eyes looked at Caitriona. “You are not demi-god. You are not my child though I wish you were. Yours, however, is a power that will go on and help many. When you lay beneath this tree with your Highlander you shared with him your gift of healing.” He looked at Alan. “You shared with her your heroism, your unerring faith to never give up on love, on us gods, on the new god. No matter what god you believed in, together you became one. ‘Twas all you ever needed to see a twig turn into an invaluable ring.”

  He held the rings. “Because of you these rings will signify three great loves brought together through time. One will be lost. One will be found. And one will be made.” He pointed to the rings then his own eye. “As your eyes turned when you came together the first time, one is a sapphire, one is a diamond.” He looked up into the tree. “And one the color of the trees, of ‘Eire herself, emerald.”

  Content, assured, Fionn said, “All will strengthen the MacLomains.”

  Alan’s soft words surprised her. “I will know none of this when Iain and I are bairns together, when I first meet Adlin. Nor when I meet Caitlin Seavey years later. Will I?”

  “Nay,” Fionn said gently. “Or none of this would be possible, aye?”

  “‘Tis the way of time travel,” Adlin added. “One must look at it in the order in which it comes, not the order time may show it happening.”

  Fionn shook his head. “You really are meddlesome.”