Adlin, as he had always been, was the most powerful of them all.
“I dinnae ken.” Tiernan shook his head. “Why did I vanish from your mind, Da? How did you find me?” He narrowed his eyes and spoke telepathically yet knew da didn’t hear him. So he spoke aloud. “I cannae sense you anymore either. ‘Tis truly unsettling.”
“’Tis,” da agreed, not answering Tiernan’s questions. He eyed the place before narrowing in on the bed. “There's not much room for sleeping, aye?”
“That’s what I said,” Julie kicked in.
“I dinnae suppose that bothers my son overly much, though,” da murmured. His fond eyes returned to Julie. He went on as though he hadn’t just said he knew his son wanted to sleep with her. “How are you, lassie? It’s been too long. At least for me.”
“I’m good,” she replied, then answered what she imagined would be his next question. “Everything’s good in New Hampshire too. All the Brouns are there...well two are, three are on the way.”
“Yet none of them are here,” he remarked. His gaze went from Tiernan to the pendant he had given Julie. “’Tis a lovely bauble, lass.” When he fingered it, and magic flickered briefly in his eyes, he knew his father sensed Tiernan’s magic in the jewelry. “Verra special.”
“It is,” she agreed, glancing at Tiernan. “It was thoughtful of Tiernan to give me something when he knew my friends were getting the rings.”
“Aye, ‘twas,” da said softly. His knowing eyes met Tiernan’s. While he thought for sure his father would comment on the unique magic of the pendant, he did not. “Things have grown worse at home, lad. Your cousins’ magic fluctuates more by the day.” He sighed. “Not surprisingly, Cray and Marek are faring worse than the lot of them.” He looked skyward. “That, naturally, has Clan MacLeod in an even worse uproar than your good ma.”
“Ah, the dragon-shifter MacLomains,” Julie murmured. “Their inner dragons must be going nuts.”
“They arenae happy.” Da's curious gaze landed on Tiernan. “But we’ve even more pressing matters than that, aye?”
“I couldnae leave her behind, Da,” he said softly, assuming his father referred to Julie. “Surely, you knew that.”
Julie’s eyes widened a little. “What do you mean, he knew that?”
“I’m his da, lass,” Adlin reminded. “Of course I knew he was in love with you.”
She pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead. “This is crazy.”
“Aye,” da confirmed. “Love can indeed be that.”
Baffled, she looked at him. “Aren’t you concerned that he feels this way?”
“Not really,” he replied. “’Twas bound to happen between you eventually.” He shrugged. “’Twas only a matter of time.”
“It’s not between us.” She shook her head. “It’s totally one-sided.”
“Och, lass, ‘tis unlike you to lie.” Da chuckled and winked at her. “You love Tiernan every bit as much as he loves you.”
“I held him as a baby,” Julie exclaimed. “Not to mention, the mega elephant in the room that should be addressed right away.” She shook her head. “I’m not a Broun!” Her eyes rounded. “I’m a...watcher-over-of-houses-for-time-travelers.”
“That’s a mouthful,” da mentioned.
“It really is,” she agreed.
“Mouthful or not, you’re far more than that, lass,” da said. “You always have been.”
“I agree,” Tiernan added.
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” she muttered. “But, thanks.”
“Why wouldn’t you go that far?” da asked.
“Because all I do is watch over houses,” she reminded. “That’s my thing.”
“Lass, you’ve not only watched over houses but single-handedly managed a flight of ancient dragon-shifters during one of our Viking ancestors’ wars,” da reminded, clearly impressed. “Dragons that traveled through time forty-five thousand years and had to settle in the twenty-first century for a while.” He shook his head. “No easy task, but you did it,” he gave one firm nod, “and you did it well.”
Tiernan hadn’t even been born yet when that happened.
“I just did what I had to do,” she said absently, forever humble. One of her countless attractive traits.
“Why did you do all that, though?” da said softly. “Why did you go back and forth between houses all for something you could never be part of?” He gave her a pointed look. “Not the way you truly wanted to be.”
She shrugged a shoulder. “Because you and Grant asked me to.”
Da pondered that, curiosity once again in his twinkling eyes. “Did we?”
“Well, yeah...” She frowned, confused. “I think.”
“I dinnae recall asking you any more than Grant does, lass.” Da patted her on the shoulder affectionately. “Not to say we werenae grateful.”
“You must have asked me.” She kept frowning. “Why else would I have been there?”
“As you now know, or should I say remember, ‘twas because you were supposedly cousin to the first lasses who traveled back in time to ancient Scandinavia,” da replied. “Though they never could recall growing up with you.” He shrugged. “Then, of course, you helped Sean O’Conner along in finding his true love.”
“Right,” she murmured, confusion on her face as she tried to get to the root of things.
“Whilst you might have been subjected to a wee bit o’ Scottish wizardly magic,” da went on, “’twas only ever supposed to bring you into the fold whilst Viking Kol found his love.” He shook his head. “But ye just kept returning all on your own, and fell into the role of protector of time-travelers.” He grinned. “’Tis a more snappy title, aye?” He thought about that. “Or mayhap simply time-traveler protector.”
Julie went to reply but snapped her mouth shut.
Her thoughts floated through Tiernan’s mind.
Adlin’s got to be joking. How could I just show up out of nowhere? I had a life...didn’t I? Hell, what was my life? I hung with Viv for a time, but what else? Where did I come from? Why can’t I remember?
Sensing she was close to panicking, Tiernan urged her to sit and thanked his father when he handed over a skin of whisky.
“’Twill be all right, lass.” Tiernan crouched in front of her and urged her to drink. “We’ll figure this out.”
“Aye, there is truly a bit to figure out too,” da commented, peering out the crack in the door. “Best to do so elsewhere for now, though.”
Surprised, he glanced at his father. “You want us to leave young David?”
“Grant’s spirit is around,” he assured. “He will let me know if we need to return. Besides, we willnae be gone for long.”
“Grant’s here?” Julie exclaimed. “Where?”
“Flittin’ about David for lack of a better word,” da replied. “He’s the only one who can be around the wee king all the time without being seen.”
“Right,” Julie murmured, her troubled expression unchanged. “Adlin, I need to know what’s going on because I’m getting all sorts of signals.” Her eyes met his. “Why aren’t you more upset that I’m here? It makes no sense.” She shook her head. “None of this does.”
“Nay,” he concurred. His kind eyes stayed with hers. He joined them and rested his hand on her shoulder. “I agree, a lot of this doesnae make sense, but one thing does.” His gaze flickered between her and Tiernan. “You being here with my son, and I will tell you why.”
He said more, but Tiernan couldn’t hear him. The Viking sword suddenly crackled with lightning, flashed white, and thunder crashed.
What happened after that revealed how truly strange things had become.
Chapter Seven
ONE SECOND SHE was standing in front of a regal-looking chair, the next, white light flashed, and she was surrounded by tall standing stones. Seconds later, the light faded, and Tiernan pulled her close, evidently of the mind to protect her.
“What’s going on?” she whispered. They were out
side now. Sweeping green hills lay on the horizon, and glittering blue water was off to their left. “Where are we...where were we in between?”
“We were at Westminster Abby,” Adlin murmured from nearby, having traveled with them. His troubled gaze narrowed on what looked to be a small, chambered tomb at the center of the standing stones. “We are now on the Isle of Lewis in the Hebrides. More specifically, at the Fir bhrèige, or the Calanais Standing Stones.”
“How,” Tiernan began but seemed to realize as he eyed the sword sheathed at his side. One that hadn’t been there before but leaning against the wall in the cottage. “The blade brought us then?” He frowned at his father, putting the pieces together. “So from the Monastery of Scone where the Stane o Scuin used to be to Westminster Abby where it reportedly was when David was crowned.” He looked around warily and didn’t release her. “To here.”
“What is the Stane o Scuin?” she asked. “And why did I see a chair along the way?”
“The Stane o Scuin is the Stone of Scone,” he revealed. “Or Stone of Destiny.”
“Or as the Sassenach call it, The Coronation Stone,” Adlin muttered, still eyeing the tomb. “There is an odd feeling here that I dinnae recall from the past.” His gaze went from the sword to the stones. “’Twas almost as if our ancestors’ magic latched on to something and whisked us this way...mayhap.”
“What sort of something?” She pulled free of Tiernan because he was clearly content having her right where she was. “What does Viking, or should I say dragon magic, have to do with a coronation stone and standing stones?” She eyed the Stonehenge, curious. “And why was the Stone of Destiny moved?” She frowned, mulling everything over. “And again, what was with the regal chair?”
“The stone was moved because it was stolen,” Adlin said.
When Julie looked at Adlin in confusion, Tiernan explained.
“In our Lord’s year, twelve hundred and ninety-six, the Stone of Destiny was taken by Edward I as spoils of war. He brought it to Westminster Abbey, where it was fitted into the chair you just saw.” He frowned, clearly not impressed. “’Tis now known as King Edward’s Chair on which English sovereigns are crowned.” His expression soured even more. “’Twas essentially Edward’s way of claiming his status as “Lord Paramount” of Scotland, with the right to oversee its king.”
“I had always hoped the rumors of monks hiding the real stone in River Tay were true,” Adlin remarked. “Hence, tricking the Sassenach into taking a substitute.” He shook his head. “But I sensed the stone in that chair.” His eyes narrowed as if he were trying to understand something just out of reach. “Or at least I think I did.”
“Is the stone still there in the twenty-first century?” She might be concerned that she was here on someone else’s adventure, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t still curious. She really did enjoy history.
“Actually, ‘tis quite the story behind the stone.” Tiernan grinned. “On Christmas Day nineteen fifty, four Scottish students removed it from Westminster Abbey. Regrettably, during the process, it broke into two pieces. So after burying the greater part of the Stone in a field, they camped out for a few days until everything calmed down then eventually made it to Scotland.”
“With a new accomplice named John Josselyn,” Adlin added. “Ye cannae forget him.”
“Nay,” Tiernan agreed. “According to an American diplomat posted in Edinburgh at the time, the stone was hidden for a short time in a trunk in the basement of the Consulate's Public Affairs Officer, unknown to him, before it was removed.”
“Aye, ‘twas cleverness at work,” Adlin went on. “Though English, Josselyn, who was then a student at the University of Glasgow, was a Scottish Nationalist. In fact, ironically enough, Edward I was Josselyn's twenty-first great-grandfather. Anyway, the smaller piece was similarly brought north at a later time. The entire stone was then passed to a senior Glasgow politician, who arranged for it to be professionally repaired.”
“So essentially,” Julie said, “Edward’s own descendant helped return what his ancestor had stolen?”
“Precisely,” Tiernan confirmed. “A search for the stone was ordered by the British government but proved unsuccessful. In nineteen fifty-one, the custodians of the stone left it on the altar of Arbroath Abbey, in the safekeeping of the Church of Scotland.”
“Unfortunately,” Adlin continued, “once the London police were informed of its whereabouts, the stone was returned to Westminster.”
“Well, that’s crappy,” she exclaimed. “It was Scotland’s to begin with!”
“Aye,” Tiernan agreed. His eyes twinkled like his father’s. “All was not lost, though, because it was eventually returned. Yet rumors still circulate that a copy had been made of the stone and that the Sassenach didnae get back the original...which means it might still be out there somewhere.”
“So the stone,” she said, “or a stone, whether it's the real deal or not, is back in Scotland in the twenty-first century.”
“Aye, due to a growing dissatisfaction amongst the Scots, ‘twas finally returned in nineteen ninety-six,” Adlin confirmed. “’Twas transported to Edinburgh Castle, where a handover ceremony occurred. Prince Andrew, Duke of York, representing Queen Elizabeth II, formally handed over the Royal Warrant transferring the stone into the safekeeping of the Commissioners for the Regalia. It currently remains alongside the crown jewels of Scotland, the Honours of Scotland, in the Crown Room.”
“That’s assuming,” she said, “the real stone was returned in the first place by the Scots.”
“Aye,” Adlin murmured, a twinkle in his eyes. “That's assuming.”
“If the real one is still out there somewhere in Scotland,” she cocked her head, perplexed, “why not return it now?”
“There could be many reasons,” Adlin replied. “It might be held by an avid black-market collector or someone that doesnae trust it in the hands of officials or,” a strange light entered his eyes, “it could be held by Scots of my ilk. Wizards determined to keep it out of the wrong hands.”
“Because it possesses magic,” she surmised.
“Aye,” Adlin said reverently. “A great deal, I'm told.”
She gazed around. “How does the Stone of Destiny tie in with this place, though?” She gestured at Tiernan’s blade. “And the Viking sword.”
“I dinnae quite know yet,” Adlin said softly. He crossed his arms over his chest and kept eyeing the tomb though he spoke to Tiernan. “What do you make of this, Son? What do you feel here?”
“I dinnae know how dependable anything I feel is right now.”
For a split second, her foolish heart sank before Tiernan continued.
“Except for the way I feel about Julie.”
She seriously needed to stick to her guns, but it got harder by the moment. Especially seeing him here in his element, surrounded by rolling fields and a stunning landscape. Nevertheless, eye on the ball. She needed to return to the future. So she hung back and gave him space. Or should she say gave herself space, because the more she was near him, the more difficult it became to remember she wasn’t allowed to be with him.
And that kiss hadn't helped any.
That amazingly unbelievable, entirely too perfect kiss.
She should have pulled away, stepped back, turned her head, but no, she just went with it. More like, totally lost herself in it. Every fiber of her being had been wrapped up in the way he’d made her feel. She hadn’t stayed strong and broke it off. She hadn't held her ground in the least.
No, she simply surrendered the moment she had the chance.
“’Tis a verra unusual feeling around the stone, Da,” Tiernan agreed, standing beside his father, clearly relieved that his magic was sensing something at all. “A mix of energies, aye?”
“Aye,” Adlin replied. “Whilst there’s good, there’s also bad.” He frowned. “Something took place here recently.”
“Something ceremonial by the feel of it,” Tiernan murmured. “Something i
nterconnected...”
When he trailed off, the oddest sensation rolled over her. She swore she saw a spark of bluish-green light come from her pendant before Tiernan’s sword began to glow.
“Um...guys?” she whispered, almost afraid to move because she didn’t want to be thrust through time without being a whole lot closer to Tiernan first. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”
“’Tis your sword again, Son,” Adlin said softly. “’Tis aglow but softer this time.”
Thankfully, Tiernan was by her side in an instant, in case they were shifted again. Yet nothing happened.
Until it did.
“Oh my God,” she whispered when transparent streams of soft light became obvious. One went from her to Tiernan’s sword to each and every stone before it shot up into the sky then branched out in several directions, vanishing on every horizon.
She gazed up at the sky. “What am I looking at?”
Tiernan and Adlin looked at the sky as well, perplexed.
“What are you looking at, lass?” Adlin asked. “Because I dinnae see anything.”
“Nor I,” Tiernan concurred. His gaze dropped to her pendant. “Except for that.”
“What?” First, a chill swept over her, then it almost felt like static electricity. She followed his line of sight only to realize the light from Tiernan’s sword wasn’t directed at her but her pendant. “It’s glowing!” She shook her head, baffled. “But that’s not what I’m talking about.” She gestured at the line between them then swept her arm around, encompassing the sky. “I’m talking about the cobweb of lines over us. Surely you see them.”
“Och,” Adlin exclaimed. He closed the distance and fingered her pendant. “It cannae be.”
“What cannae be?” Concern for her darkened Tiernan's eyes. “Tell me what’s going on, Da. Is Julie in danger?”
“Nay,” Adlin whispered, awed. “She is part of what protects us from danger.”
No sooner did he say it than a boom resounded and pure hell unleashed.
A Scot's Pledge (The MacLomain Series: End of an Era, #1) Page 5
