Chapter 12
Tavis woke with a gasp. The time vault lid was open, and Ian stood there watching him. “Bloody hell, what are you doing?” He couldn’t change his mind now. They both knew there was no other way. He sat up and realized the man wasn’t Ian. He was a stranger. Tavis’s chest felt heavy. He pulled in a few more desperate breaths. It had worked. That meant his family was dead. Ian was dead. His chest ached. The man didn’t look dangerous, only shocked. Had the clan sent him? Where was Faelan? Tavis didn’t even know what year it was. It could be five hundred years later for all he knew.
“Faelan Connor. My God. It’s true.”
Tavis tensed. This man thought he was Faelan. It could be a trap. The man could be a demon or a minion. “Who are you?” he asked.
“Angus—” His introduction was interrupted by a noise over their heads. The soft sound of footsteps. The man extinguished the light. “Quiet,” he whispered.
Tavis took advantage of the darkness and climbed out of the time vault, holding the satchel and his dagger close. He didn’t even hear the man move, but the dark outline of his body appeared next to Tavis. He moved like a warrior. Or like a demon pretending to be a warrior. If Angus was truly a warrior, he should know this wasn’t Faelan’s time vault.
“We have to leave,” Angus said, easing toward the hidden doorway. “I have to get you to safety. Stay here until I make sure it’s clear.” He slipped up the steps and returned a moment later, motioning for Tavis to follow him. “There’s no time to hide the doorway.”
Tavis stepped over a pile of scattered stones that had been the secret door when he and Ian first entered the place. He could make out shapes in the chapel, pillars and pews, some broken. He stopped by the one he’d sat on just minutes ago with Ian. But it hadn’t been minutes ago. It had been two lifetimes or more. Ian. Oh God. What had they done? What they’d had to do.
What about Faelan? Was he alive or dead? Tavis passed a window. It was still dark outside, but the horizon was growing lighter with the coming dawn. He glimpsed a figure near the graveyard.
“Stop,” he whispered. “There’s someone outside.” Tavis motioned toward the window, but the figure had vanished. “He’s gone.”
“Come on,” Angus said. “We have to get out of here.”
Tavis wanted to check on Faelan’s time vault, but this man thought he was Faelan. Tavis had to protect Faelan’s location until he knew if Angus was friend or foe. Tavis followed him across the yard behind Frederick and Isabel’s house. The gravity of what he’d done hit him like an arrow in his heart.
“You look like you’re going to pass out,” Angus said. “God knows what you went through inside that time vault.” He put his arm around Tavis’s back and helped him through the woods to a big… Tavis had no words for what it was. It was big and made of metal, with wheels, but not like a carriage or wagon. “Get in the car.” Angus opened a door and pushed Tavis inside.
Tavis stared at the inside of the thing while Angus climbed in on the other side and turned a key. A rumbling noise sounded underneath them. Tavis gripped the seat. “What is this?”
“It’s a vehicle. That’s the engine you hear. It runs on gasoline.”
“What?”
“Fuel. I’ll explain later. We’ve got to—dammit, there’s one now.” Tavis looked out the window and saw a man coming toward them. Two men. They wavered and became one again. Or were they men?
Angus moved something, and the vehicle shot forward, throwing Tavis back in the seat. “Buckle up. There.” He pointed to a strap mounted on the side near the door.
Tavis fiddled with it, finally hearing a click as he managed to get the metal pieces locked. He was alarmed, though. What would this vehicle do that would require a man to be confined like this? He soon found out. The vehicle moved faster than any racehorse, tossing them one way, then the next as Angus followed a narrow trail between the trees. They came out of the woods, and the vehicle bounced onto a road like nothing Tavis had ever seen—a dark ribbon stretching as far as the eye could see. The ride wasn’t bumpy now, but so smooth Tavis couldn’t tell they were moving except for the trees and signs coming at them in a blur. His head felt like it was in a barrel. Angus was saying something, but his words were jumbled together. Tavis looked at him and saw he had two heads, then one, then two. What the hell?
When Tavis opened his eyes, Angus was pulling him out of the vehicle. They were in front of a house, not Isabel’s.
“Come on, we’ve got to get inside before Mrs. Edwards sees you. I don’t want to have to explain the kilt.”
Tavis’s head and stomach rolled. He felt worse than he had when he and Faelan had drunk two bottles of the elderberry wine their mother had made. He let Angus drag him inside the house and up a set of stairs. The walls were fading, and he felt himself sinking to the ground.
“Blimey, but you’re heavy. Hold on. Don’t pass out until we get to the bed.” Angus opened a door and helped Tavis across the floor. Tavis saw the bed and white quilt coming closer and closer to his face and realized he was falling.
When he woke again, the room was dark. He heard noises outside the door. A woman’s voice, and a man’s. It sounded familiar. Was it Angus? He felt an odd pang, something compelling him, and Tavis started to rise, but his head spun and the darkness took over again. The next time he woke, he was alone, but at least the room wasn’t spinning. He eased out of bed slowly, and his feet seemed to be working. Someone, Angus he supposed, had undressed him. He stood and saw his clothes folded on a chair near the foot of the bed.
His head was clearer now, and the grief he’d held off hit him hard. His family was dead. All of them except Faelan. And he might be dead too. A thousand years could have passed for all he knew. Faelan could’ve been released, destroyed Druan, and died of old age.
He could look inside the Book of Battles and see if Faelan’s name was there. Did the book give dates? It was forbidden for anyone but the Keeper to look inside the book. He’d only touched it because he’d sworn to Quinn that he’d keep it safe. Where was it? He needed to hide the book before Angus got back. Angus had given Tavis no reason to believe he was evil, but until he was sure, he couldn’t risk the Book of Battles being discovered. Tavis flung clothes aside, but couldn’t find the satchel. Had Angus taken it? Perhaps he was a demon and only wanted the book.
Tavis put on his kilt, intending to find the privy outside. Angus had told him not to leave this room, but Tavis needed to piss. Perhaps he’d left a chamber pot. Tavis looked under the bed. Nothing there. He checked the other room attached to his bedroom and found an astonishing sight. There was a small white bowl with a water tank on the back. Similar to a contraption he’d seen once in a duke’s manor home, but this was far fancier. He made use of the bowl, then tried to figure out how to get rid of the piss. There was no way to carry the thing and dump it outside.
He lifted the cover on the lid of the tank and saw some sort of mechanism inside. Replacing it, he noticed a small silver handle on the front of the tank. He tried to lift it, but it didn’t move. He pushed, and the water in the bowl swirled with a loud gush and disappeared. Well now. That was better than freezing your arse off in a cold privy in the middle of winter.
He explored further and discovered remarkable things. There was a basin and a tub with heated water, and knobs that controlled the spray. What else had humans accomplished in this time? Sent a man to the moon? He gave a sarcastic chuckle which echoed off the walls, making him realize how alone he was. Ian had been right. Tavis had no idea what this place was like.
He might have to ask directions to Frederick Belville’s place. It wouldn’t do to look as if he’d emerged from a grave. He turned all the knobs and got the water running in the fancy tub. The last knob had water shooting out of the wall. He took off the kilt and stepped under the spray. Two bottles stood on the side of the tub. Soap, he figured. He opened one, smelled it—pleasant—and then scrubbed his head and body.
After he’d turned the water off, he found a thick cloth hanging beside the tub. This time had certainly made some improvements, but as nice as it was having warm water coming right inside the house, the world was at stake. If they wanted to continue to live and breathe and use their hot water and bottled soap, he’d better find Faelan fast. Someone had to destroy Druan. If Faelan hadn’t survived, then the task would belong to Tavis. If a warrior fell, usually his talisman went to his oldest brother. There was no time to waste. Druan could have another virus ready by now. And God knew where Voltar was.
His stomach rumbled. He needed food. All he had was a few coins in his sporran. If Angus wasn’t back by the time he was dressed, he’d leave without him. He found some odd containers next to the sink. They weren’t made of glass. “Antiperspirant,” he read, the words strange in his mouth. After reading the writing on the outside, he decided it was to keep a man’s oxters from sweating. Maybe it was a custom in this time. It took him a minute to figure how the stuff worked. He raised an arm and smeared the stuff underneath, then did the same for the other side. It felt a bit like grease, but it smelled nice. The other container said “toothpaste.” He found a wee brush and cleaned his teeth, pleasantly surprised at the taste.
He heard a sound in the hall. Angus? Tavis dressed quickly and left the room. There were three other doors here, and he found himself drawn to one in particular. When he touched the door, the walls started to spin. He grabbed the door. He was still weak. Perhaps he should wait for Angus.
A door opened across the landing. A man stood framed in the doorway. His hair was black as midnight, his face pale, bonny as a lass’s. Tavis was stunned to see the ancient demon. Before Tavis could reach for his dagger, Tristol was next to him, and Tavis was swallowed by a black mist.
* * *
Tavis remembered mosteverything except what had happened to the Book of Battles and the satchel. Angus must have taken it. Tavis left the chapel and walked to the graveyard. He passed the crypt and counted off five paces from the corner, and then found the third grave. The gravestone was smooth with age. He knelt and ran a trembling hand over the unmarked stone.
“Father.” A lump formed in Tavis’s throat. It seemed just yesterday they’d dug up Faelan’s time vault. His father had pretended to be strong for Tavis’s and Ian’s sakes, but he’d aged overnight. Tavis leaned his head against the stone. “Faelan’s alive. He’s here with me. I’m sorry I wasn’t there in time to stop Voltar.”
But Voltar hadn’t been assigned to him yet. If he and Ian had been there, they could have both died along with his father and Quinn. Tavis could almost hear his father speaking the words.
It seemed to Tavis he was never in time. Not with Liam or Faelan or his father. What good was he if he couldn’t save those he loved? Anna. The name rushed through his head like a wind, and another memory returned. Michael standing before Tavis, telling him that he had to destroy Voltar and protect the woman. Michael had shown him Anna’s face. That was why he felt a connection to her. She was part of his assignment.
He’d not only failed to protect, but he’d hurt her instead. Even knowing that they both would likely have died if he hadn’t, it was still a disgrace that his body had even functioned under the circumstances. What kind of a man did that? Not a protector. “What have I done, Father?”
Faelan dropped down beside Tavis. Tavis hadn’t heard him coming. But Faelan had always been the stealthiest of the brothers. Even when they were lads, he could always sneak up on them. He was bare-chested and wore the same strange trousers that the guards had worn.
“This is his grave?” Faelan touched the worn stone, his face somber.
“Aye.”
“He was here all the time. We thought he was buried in Scotland!”
“That’s what we wanted everyone to believe.”
“How did he die?” he asked quietly.
“Ian and I found him in the woods.” Tavis nodded toward the path behind the chapel. “Father was already dead. Quinn lived just long enough to tell me Voltar attacked them.”
“Voltar? Druan told me he’d killed him.”
“Probably just to torment you. Damned demons.”
Faelan stared at the blank stone. “If I hadn’t got myself locked in the time vault, he wouldn’t have died.”
“It wasn’t your fault. What we do is dangerous. Sometimes we suffer losses.”
Faelan ran his hand over the stone, as if trying to feel his father there. “All this time and he was so near me.” He sighed. “We’ll mark his grave. Let the world know where he rests.”
Tavis nodded. “We’re all that’s left of the family.”
“No.” Faelan put his hand over Tavis’s. “All those warriors you met. They’re all related to us through Ian.”
“It took me a long while to convince Ian this was the right thing to do,” Tavis said.
“I don’t blame him for not wanting to.” Faelan shook his head. “I’m not sure I would have agreed. You should have left me to fend on my own.”
“I couldn’t do that,” Tavis said.
“You bloody fool.” Faelan gently hit him on the arm, but Tavis knew it was meant as a hug. “I wish you hadn’t come, for your sake. But for mine, I’m glad you did. I thought I’d lost everyone.”
Tavis looked at his brother still marveling that they were here together. “I wondered if I’d ever see you again. I thought you might be dead. We all did. Druan’s sorcerer said he thought you were alive.”
“It was a smart thing you did, killing Druan’s sorcerer.”
“Do you know who he was?” Tavis asked. “Old Donnal.”
“From the apothecary shop?”
“Aye. His real name was Selwyn. He was working on Druan’s virus there. And Druan had Selwyn following another demon who was there to kill a warrior. Selwyn couldn’t remember the warrior’s name but said it started with an L. That was when Liam died.”
Faelan’s face looked like stone. “The demon came to kill Liam?”
“Aye. Father wasn’t the reason Liam died.”
“I thought he grabbed him because he was the easiest target. Did you tell Father?”
“He was dead when we got back to Frederick and Isabel’s. I wish I could have told him. That would have been one less guilt to carry to his grave.”
“I’ve thought about the demon often,” Faelan said. “I think I should know him, but I can’t place his face.”
Tavis knew Faelan thought about Liam every time he tried to recall the demon’s face, because he did too. “I can’t either. I can almost see him, then his face is a blur. Would you believe it was a demon who helped us find the sorcerer?”
“A demon? The clan still tells the story, but no one mentioned it being a demon,” Faelan said.
“Ian wouldn’t have told. We don’t know who it was, and who would have believed it anyway?”
“You don’t know him?”
“Neither of us could remember what he looked like. It was like he stole our memories.” Tavis frowned. “Just like in the fortress.”
“I don’t know how Ian did what he did. His job was the hardest.”
Tavis could still see the tears running down Ian’s face as the lid closed. “I know it. I near had to knock him over the head to get him to see that it had to be me. He had the mark for Bessie.”
“That soon?”
“He was hiding it. I didn’t have anyone, so it had to be me.” Tavis thought about Marna, her plain face that looked pretty when she laughed. “I hope he was happy.”
“He didn’t live long,” Faelan said. “He died three years after Father.”
“No.” Tavis’s throat tightened. He’d hoped Ian lived a long life and had lots of sons and daughters. “How?”
“Druan killed him. Unless he lied about that too. But he showed me Ian’s casket just before I destroyed him. He put his hand on my head, and I saw it all. Mother and Ian’s son mourning.”
“He had a son?”
Faelan nodded sadly. “Three. His wife was expecting twins when Ian died. I saw their graves.”
“Bloody demon. I thought Ian would live a good long life. What about Mother and Alana?”
“Mother died when she was fifty-three. Alana lived a long time, had lots of bairns,” Faelan said. “But we can’t focus on what we’ve lost now. We have to focus on keeping you alive and the clan safe. Are you sure it was Tristol and Voltar?”
“I’m sure. I saw him when he grabbed me, but they took my memories in the fortress. As soon as I saw Voltar, they came back,” Tavis said.
“You shouldn’t have attacked him. You could have been killed.”
“Voltar’s my demon. Michael assigned him to me right after Ian and I found Father dead.”
“An ancient demon?” Faelan shook his head. “But if Michael assigned him to you, then…”
“I walked away from the assignment.”
“Shite.”
“Family comes first,” Tavis said. “I’d sworn that I would help you get rid of Druan.”
“I can’t believe you ignored Michael’s order. You can’t fight Voltar now. You’re weak.”
“I’m not even sure he’s still mine.”
“Maybe he’s been reassigned,” Faelan said. “But I haven’t heard, and I think news like that would travel.” He frowned. “Druan was still mine, even after all that time.”
“Voltar said he’d been waiting for me.”
“Then he knows? Well, you’re not to go near him,” Faelan ordered.
“Don’t start playing big brother. I’ll heal,” Tavis said. “You can’t fight my battles.”
“Like you always try to fight mine? Whenever I’m in trouble, you’re right behind me. You came after me to finish Druan off for me, thinking I might be dead. Isn’t that so?”
Tavis shrugged.
“You’ve always been watching out for me,” Faelan said. “Well, you’re weak, and I’m not letting you near Voltar.”
Tavis grinned. “You haven’t changed a bit. Other than got yourself a bonny wife.” Something he would never have. He’d decided long ago that love was a dangerous thing. He didn’t believe in destined mates, the way some of his clan did. Not that it didn’t happen sometimes. But more often than not, love led to heartache. Just look at their mother, losing her husband and two sons. He bore the burden of choosing to leave, adding to her pain, but he’d had little choice. It’d had to be him or Ian. Ian had Bessie. Destined mate or not, Ian loved her. Tavis had nothing but his family. He’d failed them once by letting Liam die. He hadn’t been about to fail Faelan too.
“Faelan,” a woman’s voice called from the house.
“That’s her now, hardheaded woman. She’s supposed to be resting,” Faelan said, but his voice was soft, like their father’s had been when he spoke of their mother. “But she won’t listen, no matter that she’s carrying my bairn.”
Tavis felt an odd jolt hit the middle of his chest. “You’re having a bairn?