Chapter 25
CHAPTER 25
“Adeline?” a voice whispered in the darkness.
Her heart thundered in her chest, uncertain of where she’d be when she opened her eyes. Aside from the candles being blown out, she couldn’t remember what had happened after she’d touched the strange opal egg. But she guessed she wasn’t on the stool anymore in the old healer’s chambers. She felt the hard floor underneath her, and her head ached. A pain almost as bad as when she’d first arrived on the beach of Logan’s island.
I’ve gone back . It zapped me. It zapped me, though I expressly told it not to!
Her heart sank. Panic fluttered in her chest as tears filled her unseeing eyes. She didn’t get to say goodbye, and now she was stuck in 2023, with no way of even sending Logan a message to tell him how… perfect and strange their brief time together had been.
“Adeline?” the same voice whispered again.
In her devastation, she thought the voice sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it. It was probably a cop or a paramedic finding her on the floor of her blacked-out apartment, spat out by the opal egg.
“Over here,” she murmured miserably.
Footsteps approached in the darkness, the glow of a flashlight wavering through the shadows. Her sister had told her stories of the will-o-the-wisps that haunted Scotland—moving orbs of glowing light that tried to lead oblivious travelers off well-trodden paths to their deaths.
For a moment, she pretended that was what she was looking at, instead of her wake-up call back into the 21 st century.
Soon, the light stopped above her. She heard a knee crack as someone kneeled down beside her, bringing the glowing orb with them.
As soon as the flare of light caught the face of her discoverer, she unleashed an almighty scream. Those icy pale eyes, that silvery hair, that trimmed gray beard, that pallid skin, and, most of all, that smug mouth. Of all the people who could’ve found her, Dr. Platt was the very last person she wanted to see.
“Adeline? What’s wrong? Are ye in pain? Did ye hurt somethin’ when ye fell?” he asked in quick succession, worry creasing his pale, haunting eyes.
She froze, the scream dying on her lips. That wasn’t a New Jersey accent. That wasn’t an American accent either. That was pure 1700s Scotland. Not Logan, definitely not Dr. Platt, but someone else.
“Adeline, can ye speak? I daenae ken how to heal anyone, but if ye tell me what to fetch ye, I can,” the man said as her dazed mind put the pieces together.
“Dallas?” she croaked.
Dallas nodded slowly. “Daenae try to sit up. I think ye hurt yer head.”
“I’m not… I didn’t… I’m still here,” she mumbled, staring at his concerned face.
She could’ve hugged him—she was so relieved. It had only been the shadows cast from the lantern in his hand that had made him look like Dr. Platt. Now, with more of the lantern light on his face, she could see him properly. And if she was looking at Dallas, then she hadn’t gone anywhere.
“Am I still in the old healer’s chambers?” she asked, quickly realizing that she’d almost said something she shouldn’t say. He’d have had her marched back down to the dungeons if she’d accidentally mentioned she was a time traveler.
Dallas pressed his hand to her forehead. “Aye, ye’re still here. What happened?”
“I was… looking through some books.” She paused, her mind flitting to the opal egg.
Where the heck is it? Is it still on the workbench?
“I… uh… felt dizzy, and I must’ve fainted.”
Dallas frowned. “Ye were in here without a candle?”
“I think there’s a draft in here,” she said, struggling to sit up. “It blew my candle out.”
It blew all of the suckers out .
Dallas tried to urge her to lie back down. “I really daenae think ye should be sittin’ up. Just… stay there, and I’ll go fetch Logan and his maither. Daenae move. The old healer used to say that ye shouldnae move someone if they’ve hit their head ‘til ye’re sure they havenae cracked open their skull.”
“He was part right,” Adeline said quietly.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Dallas stood up, his knees cracking again. “I willnae be a moment, lass. Stay where ye are.”
“Will do,” she promised, listening to the sound of his footsteps retreating.
She waited until she heard the telltale squeal of the door hinges opening and closing before she pushed herself back into a sitting position. Her head swam, a sharp pain splitting her skull, but she’d take all the migraines that 1705 could give her.
She was still in Logan’s time. She hadn’t vanished without saying goodbye. And that was a belated Christmas gift, in and of itself.
Opal egg, her brain kicked in, reminding her of why she was sitting up in the first place.
Shakily, feeling her way up the side of the workbench, she managed to get to her feet. Her fingers scrabbled blindly across the rough wooden surface, splinters biting at her skin, as she attempted to orient herself. She felt the candlestick, and, a few inches to the left, she touched the edge of that strange, sheeny material.
“Please say it’s still there, please say it’s still there,” she prayed, tentatively moving her fingertips across that square of material.
Wait! If you touch it, you’ll pass out again!
Cursing under her breath, she pinched the edge of the material between her fingers and dragged it over to where she thought the little egg should be, like she was trying to rewrap it in the dark.
Relief swelled in her chest as she felt the solid object underneath the silky silver fabric and the rough golden wrapper. She still had the key to the future.
But as she hastily wrapped it back up and slipped it into her apron pocket, an urgent question popped into her head.
If she’d touched the egg and woken up in 1705 again, how on Earth was it meant to take her back to 2023? Had she missed a step, or did the egg somehow know that she wasn’t ready to return?
She didn’t have much time to dwell on the possibilities, as a stampede of muffled footsteps filled the silence. They were coming from beyond the chamber door, approaching fast.
Logan burst into the old healer’s chambers, wielding a torch as if he were hunting down a criminal hiding in the woods. He swept it left and right, spilling fiery orange light into the room.
“Where is she?” he called to Dallas.
“Over there,” Dallas replied. “On the other side of that table.”
It had been two hours since the search for Adeline had begun, and at least an hour more since she had initially gone missing, having never made it up the stairs to Sophie’s bedchamber. In those two hours, Logan had truly felt like he was losing his mind. Every room he entered had raised and crushed his hopes when he had scoured every corner, every nook and cranny, and she could not be found.
Indeed, had he not run into Dallas while on his way to the dungeons, almost on the brink of admitting defeat, he might have given up completely.
“What are ye doin’ here?” Logan had asked. “I thought ye were ridin’ to the rest of the villages.”
“I spread the word to the southern villages, but I was ridin’ past the keep and couldnae resist. I thought I’d rest and have somethin’ to eat before continuin’ on through the night,” Dallas had replied. “It’s fortunate I did. I’ve just seen Adeline in the old healer’s chambers. I think she fell and hit her head, so I told her to stay while I fetched ye for her.”
Logan had never run as fast in his entire life as he had after that revelation, sprinting to the woman who had captured his heart. The woman he had thought, for two hours, he had lost forever.
“Adeline?” he called, skidding around the edge of the workbench.
He saw her on the floor, his heart lurching. Her face was too pale, her lips bloodless.
“Adeline?” He sank to his knees, scooping her up. “Adeline, can ye hear me? Dallas said ye fell and hurt yer head. Are ye well? Adeline?”
Adeline cracked one eye open. “You’re not supposed to move someone who might have a spinal injury.”
“What?”
She mustered a slow smile. “I’m just teasing. I think my spine is fine. My head only hurts a little, so I’m pretty sure I’m going to live.”
“Ye were… teasin’ me?” Logan did not know whether to laugh or be furious with her. “I thought ye were… I thought ye’d… I thought somethin’ bad had happened, and ye start jestin’ like that? Ye’re a menace, Adeline. I swear on me life, ye are.”
He put the torch in her hand and picked her up, grateful to have her back in his arms. “Daenae burn me with that,” he warned lightly. “I think ye’ve singed me enough for one night.”
“I’ll try not to,” she promised, her gaze anxious. “You’re not actually mad at me, are you?”
“I daenae think mad is the right word,” he replied, carrying her out of the healer’s chambers.
Outside the door, a small crowd of three had gathered: Sophie, Moira, and Theo. All nervously waiting to find out if Adeline was all right. Their immediate relief reflected Logan’s, though he could not show it yet. Not until he was alone with Adeline again.
“Ye had us flappin’ all over with worry!” Sophie cried. “I daenae think I’ve seen Logan react like that since there were enemy ships landin’ on our beaches a decade ago.”
Logan scrunched his eyes. “I couldnae have anythin’ happen to the island’s most valuable asset, that’s all. There are still sick people who need her help.”
“That’s the only reason?” Adeline asked quietly.
He did not respond, carrying her past his mother, sister, and oldest friend. He continued on through the maze of hallways that he knew like the back of his hand, until he reached a lone doorway at the end of a very narrow corridor. He opened it and carried her down a narrow staircase that led into the underbelly of the keep.
“Are you putting me in the dungeons again?” Adeline’s voice trembled, her eyes wide as they went lower and lower. “I didn’t do anything wrong, and you know I’m not a witch, so what are you putting me in prison for?”
Coming to the end of another narrow corridor, Logan booted open the last door. “I’m nae,” he assured, carrying her into the subterranean realm of his private bedchamber.