Time Masters Book One; The Call (An Urban Fantasy, Time Travel Romance)

by Geralyn Beauchamp

  “You and me both. But it’s okay. Oh, and Vyn’s doing fine too.”

  They both burst into laughter.

  * * *

  Dallan sat on a wooden bench outside his cottage, his body leaned against its outer wall in his favorite position. Vyn sat on the dusty ground near his feet, drawing circles in the dirt with a stick. “Did John say what he wanted, lad?” Dallan asked him, a half smile on his face. The boy often made him smile. So little else did.

  “He told me to tell you to wait for him here. He had to talk with my dad about something.” Vyn poked at the dirt now, bored with the circles.

  Dallan let out a long sigh and scanned the area. Nothing. John had helped him over his earlier dizziness, settled him where he now sat, and run off to find his assistant. The dizziness was gone, as were most of the details of his nightmare. Like most of his dreams only the emptiness remained. And pain. But this one had been very different. “And he didna say when he’d be here?”

  Vyn stopped his poking and stared up at him. “For a grownup, you sure are impatient!”

  Dallan snorted. “There be different kinds o’ patience laddie.”

  Vyn cocked his head to one side, mimicking Dallan’s expression. “And you’ve lost all yours. Right?”

  Dallan’s jaw tightened slightly. He glared openly at the boy, but did not force the look.

  Vyn nodded his head. “Yep. My dad gets that same look when he’s lost his. And he never tells me when he’s found it again. He’s always losing his patience. Where did you lose yours this time? Maybe I can help you find it.”

  Dallan’s look softened. “I’m afraid mine’s nowhere to be found. If I want it back I’ll ha’ to fetch it myself.” He glanced at the other cottages nearby. “I just wish I kent where to look.”

  “My mom always finds my dad’s for him. Maybe if you had a wife, she could find yours.”

  Dallan raised a jesting brow. “I dinna think one o’ those ‘twould do me much good. Och, I’d need my patience well beforehand lad, not after.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “To ha’ a wife takes patience, lad. Lots o’ it.”

  “Why?”

  Dallan shrugged. “Because they need so much care.”

  “What kind of care?”

  Dallan looked him in the eye, his glare returned. “Ever had a pet, lad?”

  “I had a mouse once, but my sister Sara stepped on it and squished it.”

  Dallan’s mouth pressed into a smile. “Weel, ye wouldna want yer sister near yer wife then once yer old enough to ha’ one?”

  “Have you ever had a wife? What happened to her? Do you have a little sister too?”

  Dallan laughed. “Nay, laddie. I’ve never been married and I havena any sisters.”

  “Oh. Do you have any brothers?”

  Dallan’s smile vanished.

  “Well, do you?

  “Aye, lad. One.”

  “What’s his name?”

  Dallan closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and leaned toward Vyn, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked at the boy, capturing him, “Alasdair.”

  Vyn smiled. “What’s he like?”

  Dallan swallowed and almost choked. “Verra much like you, laddie. Verra much like you.” He leaned back against the wall, eyes closed, and waited for the pain to subside.

  “See, I told you they were together,” came a familiar voice.

  Dallan opened his eyes and looked up into the face of Lany Mosgofian. A woman was with him. She was pretty, with a generous build, medium height, wise blue eyes and ash-blonde shoulder-length hair. Dallan slowly stood. He may have lost his patience but he still had his manners.

  “Dallan, this is my wife Cari. Cari, Dallan MacDonald.” Lany waved a hand between himself and the woman.

  She took a step toward him and held out her hand in a sideways fashion. He automatically took it in one of his own and bent to kiss it. “Tis a pleasure, sweet Lady, to meet you.”

  Lany quickly noted the Scot’s sudden formal speech and looked to see his wife’s reaction. She caught the look, brow half raised as if to say, you’ve taught him well. “It’s a pleasure meeting you too, Dallan. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  Dallan glanced at Lany, then back to Cari, wondering just what she had been told.

  “When are you leaving, Dad?” Vyn stood and went to his father.

  “In just a little while. You’re going to take good care of your mother for me while I’m gone, right?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Where might ye be off to?” Dallan asked.

  Lany and Cari exchanged a quick look.

  “And ha’ ye seen John?”

  “Uh, he’ll be along shortly. Right now I’d better explain a few things.”

  Dallan’s eyes narrowed slightly. “What sort o’ things?”

  “Well, firstly…”

  “Ah ha!” Kwaku appeared out of nowhere, cutting Lany off . “I knew I would find you here, Boyeee!”

  Dallan growled in irritation, Lany rolled his eyes, Cari smirked and Vyn jumped to the forefront to take on the new arrival.

  “So Mos-go-fi -an. Every ding is ready?”

  Lany sighed. “As ready as it can be. Except Dallan. I was about…”

  “Ha! Do not trouble yourself. I will take care of dat!” Kwaku bellowed.

  Dallan’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Ready for what?”

  Kwaku chuckled low in his throat. “You’ll see, Boyeee, very soon.”

  Dallan abruptly turned to Lany. “Where’s John?”

  “Dallan, calm down. He’ll be along shortly.”

  He spun back to Kwaku. “What’s going on? Something’s amiss here. Tell me ye good-for-nothing, or I’ll…” Dallan suddenly forgot what he wanted to say. He straightened himself to his full height and cocked his head.

  A woman was walking toward them with a grace he’d not seen in any lass. She was beautiful, incredible. She was nearly as tall as he, her build lithe, her movements flowing. Her hair was the glossiest black he had ever beheld and her eyes captured his as easily as wind moves through trees. He had to swallow to keep himself from becoming too entranced with her, and forced his gaze away to look at Lany. “Who is that?”

  “My wife, Boyeee.” Kwaku exclaimed proudly, cutting Lany off yet again.

  Dallan’s eyes widened as his mouth flopped open. He looked to the woman again, then suddenly to Kwaku. He emitted a disgusted snort and turned to Lany as if to confirm the statement.

  Lany merely nodded.

  “She’s married to him?” Dallan squeaked, truly shocked. “The heathen?”

  Kwaku struck himself in the chest proudly. “Yes! She is married to me!”

  Dallan’s entire face twisted itself into consternation as he stared at Kwaku. He looked again to Lany. “She’s married to HIM?” he asked again, totally perplexed.

  Once more, Lany nodded.

  Dallan looked from Kwaku, to the woman, to Lany again. “Why?”

  That was it. Lany began to laugh as he shrugged and looked at Dallan, unable to say anything through his giggles.

  Dallan’s mouth snapped shut, his eyes narrowed. “I dinna believe it.”

  The woman reached them and went directly to Kwaku, who embraced her warmly. They shared a long, leisurely kiss.

  Dallan’s face fell back into disbelief. He was about to comment when a village lad suddenly appeared carrying a large tray laden with goblets from the cookhouse. He stood before Kwaku and his wife, bowing low. Kwaku laughed heartily, while the lad flinched nervously.

  The woman began to approach Dallan, who actually took a step backward.

  “May I present my wife, Boyeee?” Kwaku laughed again as he turned his attention to the woman. “Pretty one, dis is Boyeee.”

  She took another step closer, Dallan trapped in her gaze. “Kawahnee, he has a name,” she began in a silken voice, using the name reserved for those closest to the Time Master. “Why do you not use it?”

  Kwaku held h
is hands out innocently and shrugged. “He answers to ‘Boyeee’ well enough. I see no reason to change it.”

  Dallan wanted to glare at the heathen but was trapped by the woman’s mesmerizing gaze.

  She took another step toward him. “I am called Zara. You are Dallan, and I assure you I will call you by that name. It is a strong name. Like you.”

  Dallan swallowed again and nodded, struggling to find words fitting to speak to the awesome creature standing before him. “Thank you, Lady.”

  She held out her hand in the proper fashion. He took it in his own, at once noticing how soft her mahogany skin was, and kissed it. An odd tingling sensation coursed through him at the contact.

  John had arrived with Zara, but had gone unnoticed due to Zara’s unusual presence. He went directly to Lany, all the while watching Dallan with interest. “Is everything ready?”

  Lany glanced from John to Dallan. “Hopefully.”

  “What do you mean, hopefully?”

  “He means, Lord Councilor,” Kwaku began, taking a step forward, “dat we must have a drink for good luck first!”

  “A drink?” John asked flatly.

  “Yes! We must drink to de success of de Call and to our journey!”

  John glanced at Dallan, whose eyes were still locked on Zara’s. “Dallan knows…”

  “De Boyeee knows all he needs to know for now. Let us drink!”

  John scowled. “You didn’t tell him, did you?”

  Kwaku shrugged. “What is dere to tell? He’ll find out soon enough.” His eyes narrowed as his expression turned serious. “I know what is best for him, for bode of dem.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Dere can be no mistakes in dis. I will not risk eider of dem. Will you?” He strode away from John, his attention turned to his wife.

  Lany leaned into John’s ear. “What’s he up to, Eaton?”

  “I’m afraid to find out,” John whispered and then turned to Kwaku. “Very well then, let’s go.”

  The village lad stepped forward and offered the tray of goblets to Kwaku. He took one from the tray and thrust it into Dallan’s hand then motioned for the boy to pass out the rest.

  “Wha… what is this?” Dallan spoke for the first time, newly released from Zara’s gaze. He shook himself slightly, trying to focus on first the goblet, then on John.

  “Wine,” Kwaku answered. “From your home, Boyeee.”

  “H… home?”

  John smiled at him. “Are you ready, Dallan?”

  Dallan snorted. “Ready? Are ye having a jest with me, man? Or are ye referring to what we spoke of yesterday?”

  “No jest, Dallan.” John took a goblet from the tray and looked suspiciously at it, but at least the red liquid wasn’t looking back at him. He took it as a good sign.

  Lany took two goblets from the tray and handed one to Cari. Zara did the same, handing one to her husband.

  Kwaku took the goblet from her and chuckled. “Now, de toast. To de success of our journey!” He gulped down his cupful in one shot, with Zara close behind.

  Lany downed his in three swallows and a cough. Cari did the same, sans coughing.

  John looked at his cup, sniffed the contents, and took a small sip. “Hmm, not bad.” He took another slow swallow. “Not bad at all.”

  Dallan watched John, glared at his own goblet, shrugged and downed the entire cup in one long swallow. “Now,” he began, taking a step toward John. “What’s going on? I dinna like to be kept in the dark about things. Ye canna expect me to go along with what the heathen wants, not knowing what he’s about.”

  John studied him. Dallan looked as if he were weaving side to side. He looked to his own goblet, then back to Dallan. Maybe he was the one doing the swaying. He blinked his eyes a few times to clear his vision and looked to Kwaku. “Are we ready to go?”

  Kwaku casually shrugged

  Lany stepped forward and peered at Dallan, who began to lean slightly off to one side. “Kwaku, what did you do?”

  Kwaku chuckled low in his throat.

  “John, answer me. What’s going on?” Dallan demanded as he waved Lany away from him.

  “Dallan,” John began, “we’re leaving.”

  “Leaving?” Dallan blinked at him a few times. “Wh… where are we going?”

  Kwaku’s laughter got louder.

  “Kwaku,” John sighed, “let me tell him. He deserves to know.”

  “John? I dinna, I dinna feel…” Dallan turned on Kwaku. “Why ye goo-for-nofingg!”

  “Kwaku," Lany interjected. "I think we should leave, now.”

  Kwaku’s laughter lowered to a chuckle, his eyes intent on the Scot.

  Dallan seethed “Why ye furdering, minking, bwaoody hedan. I’ll get ye fooo tissss…” he began, then promptly fell flat on his face. Out cold.

  Kwaku threw his arms out in triumph. “Now we are ready to go!” He looked at the rest of the company standing in shock and laughed boisterously. “Let us take de Boyeee to his Maiden, yes?” He motioned to Zara, picked up Dallan like a sack of meal and flung him over a broad shoulder.

  He then wrapped his other arm around his wife and pulled her close. “Now, pretty one,” he bent his face to hers and kissed her passionately. “Take us to de Maiden.” He spoke to her again, in Azurti.

  Zara’s entire body shuddered. She then opened her mouth and began to sing.

  The Maiden

  I’m o’er young, I’m o’er young,

  I’m o’er young to marry yet!

  I’m o’er young, ‘twod be a sin

  To tak me frae my mammy yet.

  Robert Burns

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Back in the latter part of the twentieth century.

  From here folks, you’re on your own!

  Shona sat at the foot of her bed and stared intently out the window at the rain. She sighed and turned to look at Kitty who sat in one corner of the bedroom, face buried in a fashion magazine, head bobbing up and down to the music on her Walkman. Occasionally her eyes grew wide and she smiled as she turned the pages.

  An excited squeal accompanied the next page turn. Kitty was looking at a men’s fashion magazine. “Oh, oh, look at this one!” Her head still bobbed to a beat Shona couldn’t hear as she held up the magazine for inspection.

  Shona leaned forward and peered at the picture and a blond haired, bare-chested man in blue jeans stared back. She wasn’t impressed. “No, I do not like him.”

  “What! How can you not like him?” Kitty looked at the picture again. “What’s not to like?”

  “It is just a picture, Kitty, not the real thing.” Shona fell back on the bed, making it creak, and stared at the ceiling instead of the rain.

  “Well, to you it may be just a picture. To me it’s … it’s inspirational.”

  Shona turned her head toward Kitty, one eyebrow raised. “Tell me you are kidding.”

  “No, really. I have to have some idea of what I’m looking for. I see him as a sort of map.”

  “A map.”

  “Yes. Now all I have to do is figure out how to read it.” Kitty began to carefully tear the picture out. “I’ll add him to my collection.”

  Shona groaned, then sat up suddenly. “Collection?”

  Kitty looked at her innocently. “Yes. I have to have a collection. In case my tastes change, you know.”

  “Then you must have quite a collection. I’d like to see it sometime…”

  Both Shona and Kitty turned to see Julia standing in the doorway, an amused look on her face.

  “I did not know you were coming over today.” Shona said as she flopped backward onto the bed again.

  Julia stepped into the room and observed the two girls coolly, her ice blue eyes coming to rest on Shona. “I wanted to let you know that I’ve arranged for the West Coast Representatives of the European University to come here Wednesday to interview you.”

  Shona sat up, eyes wide, and smiled. “Truly?”

  Julia flipped her blonde hair out of her eyes and sat on the
bed next to her. “Truly.”

  Shona took a deep breath. “Am I ready?”

  Julia put an arm around her. “Of course you are. You’ve worked hard the last two years. I wouldn’t worry about being accepted. How can they turn someone as smart and talented as you away?”

  Shona looked at her tutor and smiled weakly. “It has happened before.”

  Julia studied her face for a moment, reading Shona’s wariness, then tightened her arm’s hold. “This time will be different. You’ll see.”

  “How will this time be different?” Kitty chirped out. “Geez, Yale turned her down, that college in California turned her down, and Julliard turned her down.”

  Julia’s face exploded in silent anger as she glared at Kitty.

  “I don’t understand why. I just don’t think you should get her hopes up.” Kitty pouted.

  “This time will be different. And I would appreciate it if you would keep your negative opinions to yourself from now on.”

  “I didn’t mean to be negative. I just think something else is going on. There’s no good reason why none of them accepted her. It’s almost as if…” Kitty looked to the floor, her face contemplative now, “as if someone didn’t want Shona to be accepted by any of them.”

  Julia became expressionless as she stared at Kitty. “You think so? Well, that’s an interesting and very imaginative theory. The sort one might expect from you.” She turned to Shona, who sat quietly and stared out the window at the rain again, a pained look on her face. Julia spun back on Kitty. “Now see what you’ve done,” she mouthed silently.

  Kitty bowed her head and pouted. “I’m sorry, Shona. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  Shona looked at her best friend blankly. “It is all right. I know what you meant.” She looked to the window again. “And I agree with you.”

  Julia pressed her lips together and stood. “Enough of this. Subject closed. Wednesday is only a few days away and we all seem to be on edge.” She looked from Kitty to Shona. “I think we all need to take an evening and have a little R and R.”

  “R and R?” Shona asked, puzzled.

  “Rest and relaxation.” Julia smiled and winked conspiratorially. “Girl’s night out.”