Chapter 2
B rigid kept rereading the letter, trying to understand. The words seemed to blur in front of her eyes. She knew what they said, but the meaning seemed to elude her. What was going on? Why was this happening?
All three of her brothers burst into the room at once.
“We heard a noise,” Connor said. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” Brigid said shakily. “Just a small accident.”
The letter was very clear - she must not tell anyone. Surely, that included her brothers. Besides, she didn’t want them to get involved. It might put them in danger.
“Where’s Finn?” Ryan asked, looking around. “Wasn’t he in here with you?”
“He went to wash up after the accident,” Brigid said, trying to think fast. “Could one of you fetch a dustpan and brush? We need to clean up.”
“I’ll get it,” Sean said, and vanished out of the door.
Unfortunately, the other two did not go with him. They pushed Brigid to sit down on the couch and settled in either side of her with identical concerned expressions.
“Really, are you alright?” Connor asked. “You’ve gone very pale.”
Brigid could barely breathe. But she had to hold herself together. Couldn’t let them guess what was happening. Panic gripped every inch of her body as terrible thoughts flew through her mind. What might have happened to Finn? What if things got worse for him every single minute she delayed. She wrapped her arms around herself, clutching at the sleeves of her soft cashmere sweater.
“I need to go for a walk,” she said, fighting to keep her voice under control. “The fresh air will do me good. I’m sure Finn will be back once he’s cleaned himself up.”
“Can we do anything to help?” Ryan asked anxiously.
She really must look terrible, if her brothers were offering to help.
“Perhaps you could tidy up a bit,” she said vaguely. “Maybe order that pizza.”
An old pair of leggings still lay in her room upstairs, untouched since her last visit home. She pulled them on, agonising over how much she should reveal. Lying to her brothers was just wrong.
As she grabbed her coat and boots in the hallway, she felt even worse. She was deceiving her brothers, when all they wanted to do was help. And she probably could have done with their help - she was woefully under-prepared for this kind of mission. She should take more time to think things through, gather her supplies, do things properly. Her father would be horrified at her lack of preparation.
But every moment she wasted was another moment that Finn might be in danger. She couldn’t risk that.
Because, when it came down to it, she had no choice. She had to do exactly what the letter said - no matter how strange the instructions were. No doubt there was a reason for everything it told her to do. She already suspected what that reason might be.
Following the directions on the letter led her up into the hills behind the house. From here, she could look back and see her childhood home nestled amongst the trees, quiet and serene.
Brigid followed the old sheep path up the hill, until she reached the place where an ancient Celtic cross sat on the hillside. Its carvings were faded and worn, but it was still beautiful. This had been one of her favourite places as a child - her father used to walk up here with her and tell her all sorts of fantastical stories about the cross’s history. She hadn’t visited in years, though.
She circled the cross, looking at it closely. Something had always felt strange about this place - and now the letter confirmed it. This was no ordinary stone.
No one else stood beside the cross. Brigid could not hear anything except distant birdsong and the hum of traffic over the next hill. But she knew she was not alone. Not really.
Time was a strange thing, she knew, all bunched up around certain key places. This stone cross was one of those places - a spot in the landscape where time didn’t quite fit. These were the points that time travel took advantage of, finding ways to send people spinning through the threads and layers that made up time.
Brigid took a deep breath. She fumbled in her pockets, checking for a few key items. She may have rushed out of the house, but some things were essential. Everything seemed to be in the correct place.
She reread the letter one more time, to make sure she hadn’t misunderstood. Then she slipped it into the pocket of her wax jacket.
Facing the cross, she took one more deep breath. She could do this. If the letter was accurate, everything was already waiting for her. She had only to do one simple thing.
She reached out and touched the cross.
Time bent around her. The world twisted and changed as it forced itself into new shapes around her. For a second, Brigid saw a thousand images at once, as the landscape blurred and cracked.
Then it all stopped, as abruptly as it had started. Brigid collapsed to the ground, trying not to be sick. It wasn’t the worst time journey she’d ever been on, but it was still pretty bad. Her stomach seemed determined to leave her body.
When she finally looked up, she was still on the hillside beside the cross, although night had fallen and strange flickering shadows marked the stone carvings. And, as she turned around, Brigid realised she was no longer alone. Dozens of tents had sprung up around her, like a strange sort of campsite. Brigid herself stood in the middle of a semi-circle of men. Their faces were only just visible in the flickering firelight cast by flaming torches. Brigid recognised one face, though - the face of the leader, who stood in the centre of the group, smiling coldly at her.
Professor Edmondson.