Chapter Seventeen
Each of them picked up their piece of the stone and moved into the center of the great hall. Brianna’s stomach was in knots. The three of them faced each other: Evie to her left. Chloe to her right. None of the pieces were glowing or humming.
Brianna was the first to hold up her stone. Evie pressed her piece against it, then Chloe. They held the pieces together and waited.
But nothing happened.
After several long moments, Evie dropped hers and clutched it in her fist.
“Maybe we need the blood magic,” she suggested.
Brianna glanced down at her freshly healed palm and winced. If the stone needed blood magic, she’d have to cut her hand again. A quick scan of the table showed nothing sharp enough to do that.
“We need a knife,” Chloe said.
“For what?” It was Malcolm’s deep voice that boomed through the great hall.
All three of them jumped. Chloe glanced at him, her cheeks turning pink as she gave him a sheepish grin. He took in the scene and quickly assessed what they were up to as he moved deeper into the room.
“What do ye think yer doing, lass?” His question was directed to Chloe but his gaze alighted on each of them.
“We’re going to put the stone back together. Or try,” Evie said, sounding confident.
But Malcolm was shaking his head before she finished. His gaze was fixed on Chloe. “Ye ken what it does to ye when using the stone.”
“I do, but I agree with Evie. We have to try. It could give us the answers we need,” she said. In an uncharacteristic movement, she batted her lashes at him. “Then maybe we can be rid of it.”
His jaw clenched, the muscles flexing along the edge. Finally, he pulled the dagger from the sheath at his side. It was so well hidden, Brianna hadn’t noticed he carried it.
“’Tis against my better judgment,” he said with a hint of warning. “Mayhap I should get Callum and Jamie, too.”
“That’s not necessary,” Evie said in a breezy tone.
“Och, aye, I think it is, my lady wife.”
Callum must have overheard their conversation as he entered the great hall from behind Brianna.
She cast a glance over her shoulder to see Jamie right behind him.
Callum moved to stand next to Evie, his sharp blue-eyed gaze lingering on her.
Jamie paused next to her, giving her a sense of warmth and comfort.
“What are ye planning, then?” Callum asked.
“We want to put the keystone back together,” she said. “I think it’s time.”
Callum made no effort to hide his concern as he looked at her. Evie slid her hand over her round belly.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, her voice soft as she gazed up at him.
He looked unconvinced.
Brianna said, “Maybe it’s best all of us are together. Since this prophecy names both our clans.”
She sensed Jamie edging closer to her.
“Aye,” Malcolm said with a nod. “I agree with Brianna.”
“All right, then,” Evie said, as though she were in charge. “That’s what we’ll do. But we need the blood magic to activate it, I think.”
She held out her scarred palm. In the flickering candlelight from the candelabras, Brianna saw the silvery scar where she had cut herself. She glanced Brianna’s way with a look that told her she wanted her to do the same. Brianna held out her freshly scarred palm. Next, it was Chloe’s turn.
“I’m no so sure this is a grand idea,” Malcolm said as he moved next to Chloe. “But I’ll do it anyway.”
She grinned her thanks at him as he placed the tip of the dagger in her palm. One quick swipe and her skin was cut. The blood seeped through instantly. Then he did the same with Brianna and Evie.
“Now what?” Brianna asked.
“Place the stone against your bloody palm and clench your fist,” Evie instructed.
She did so and waited. A moment later, a low hum started. But not just from her. From all three of them. Light seeped through Chloe’s clenched fist. Evie’s followed next. Brianna lifted her clenched fist to see the light pulsing through hers as well.
She opened her fingers and held her hand out. Her sisters did the same, their fingertips brushing. Each of the stones were humming and pulsing light.
With her free hand, Evie picked up the stone smeared with her blood and held it up.
Following her lead, she and Chloe did the same.
After a moment of hesitation, Chloe pressed her piece against Evie’s.
They both looked to her. With her gut clenched into a tight knot, she pressed the final piece into place.
There was an audible click and then a flash of light that blinded them. Brianna squinted against the brightness, trying to make out the shape of the stone. It was whole once again.
White hot heat swarmed up her arm, then flooded her from head to toe. She cried out with the searing pain. Strong arms were on her—she assumed Jamie’s.
Evie, too, cried out in pain, followed by Callum’s deep voice growling, “God’s teeth, woman.”
Chloe whimpered, her body going limp, and Malcolm catching her before she hit the ground.
That was the last she recalled before the vision exploded through her mind.
The man wielded a great axe as he charged up the hill toward the castle ruins.
The dilapidated towers were nothing more than jagged outlines as they stretched toward the darkened sky.
Night flooded the area like spilled ink.
There was only the waning moon to guide him but he forged on with his determination.
Once he entered the crumbling castle walls, he halted, his breath seesawing in and out of him.
Ahead, the roofless stone walls rose toward the night sky.
Beyond, the cold sea nothing but a black chasm in the dark.
Standing before him in the center of the ruins were three women. Moira in the center. Athea to her left. Bridget to her right.
“We know why you have come, Morrogh MacDonald,” Moira said.
His smile was a terrible one. “Do ye now, lass?”
Bridget said, her voice reedy and thin, “If you try to steal the Chronos Stone from us…”
“…you, your clan, and your descendants will be cursed for all time,” Athea finished.
“If you try to kill us…” Moira said.
“…you, your clan, and your descendants will be cursed for all time,” Bridget and Athea said together.
He laughed, a cruel sound echoing in the night through the ruins. “I havna come all this way to turn around and leave. I came for the power. I leave with the power.”
Moira lifted her arms out to her sides. “Then there is no other choice.”
The man charged, holding the great axe aloft. Together, the three women lifted their arms and repelled him with a burst of light. He stumbled backward but managed to maintain his footing. He shook it off, regrouped, and charged again.
Again, the women used a burst of light to drive him back.
But he anticipated it this time and lifted his great axe to protect himself.
The light—no, the magic—slammed into the steel of the axe.
The weapon shuddered in his hand, vibrating up his arm with such a force it rattled his teeth.
The weapon, though, absorbed the power and suddenly, it began to glow.
Athea sucked in a sharp breath. Bridget gasped with horror.
“The great axe!” Bridget cried.
“It was forged in the wilds of éire.” His face split into a wicked grin. “By the Tuatha Dé Danann themselves.”
Moira’s face remained impassive as she lifted her hands to the sky once more. But Bridget and Athea did not conceal their terror. It was unclear how someone like Morrogh MacDonald had obtained such a prized weapon.
“Hear me now, you of Clan MacDonald,” Moira began. “By the light of the moon, and the gloom of shadows, I call upon the winds that whisper and wail.”
Athea and Bridget stepped up next to her, lifting their hands to the sky along with her. The three of them spoke together, chanting the words that would forever seal the fate of Clan MacDonald.
“He who steals shall never keep. He who seeks what is not his will forever desire. His sons and daughters will eternally yearn. His sons and daughters will forever hear the call. Haunted by whispers. Blinded by fate. By our words, our will, our ancient law. So it is spoken. So mote it be.”
A gust of wind blasted by Morrogh MacDonald, locking his destiny for all eternity.
From that moment on, his clan was cursed. He and his descendants would hear the call of the keystone while knowing it would forever be out of reach.
Moira dropped her arms to her sides and stared down at him with cold eyes. “Be gone, MacDonald. Never return. For if you do, it will be the end of your and your line forevermore.”
He bared his teeth in a feral snarl, still clutching the glowing great axe. “One day, the keystone and control of all Time will belong to my clan.”
“You may try,” Moira said, her voice ice.
As the man retreated, the Triple Goddess watched.
“It is not over, sister,” Athea said.
“He will return,” Bridget added.
“Aye, my sisters,” Moira said, her voice quiet in the night. “And we will be ready.”