Page 11 of The Winter Laird
Twenty minutes later,Brianagh huffed over to Reilly. “Is this the place?”
He nodded once. Dressed as he was, Brianagh felt slightly intimidated. His dark, shoulder-length hair hung freely, framing his serious, beautiful face. The dark green kilt—okay, aléine, as Reilly told her when she first caught sight of him—had golden threads laced within it and hung to his knees. The fabric crisscrossed over his chest and back in a complicated swath. His sword, tucked into the folds of the fabric, rested securely against his back, and his boots were sturdier than her flimsy leather scraps. She had a fleeting moment of medieval-replica-shoe envy until she noticed he stuffed them full of small knives.Dirks, she corrected herself. She really had to get into character. She didn’t want to inadvertently insult anyone.
Blowing her hair out of her face, she looked around, wondering when the rest of the troupe would show. Brianagh walked around the site, marveling at the beauty of the circle. It was so peaceful and seemed to hum with energy as sunset drew closer.
“Brianagh—we haven’t much time. I have to tell you who I am.”
“Ah,” she replied, smiling. “Of course.”
“This isn’t a reenactment,” he said, closing his eyes briefly. “I’ve known you since the day you were born. Your own mother placed you into my arms, and your father charged me with your care until you were once again united.”
She nodded sagely. “Of course. Will my name remain Brianagh? Or can I be a different character?”
“This isn’t a reenactment,” he repeated patiently.
“Oh, right. Sorry. I didn’t realize we were already in character. Okay. My mother handed me over, my father charged you with my care. I’m with you. What happens next?” Bri strove to appropriate an acceptable level of seriousness to her tone.
“Your parents are far from dead, Brianagh.” He slipped a leather belt around her waist as he spoke, then looped it around in a series of patterns, much like his own, except hers wasn’t as tight. He adjusted it slightly and stepped back.
She glanced down and touched the brooch attached to it by her right shoulder. “Why this?” she asked, running her fingers over it. She felt the same shiver caress her, and she dropped her hand. “Oh, the legacy! Of course. What will my parents’ names be, again?”
“Please, Brianagh—for once in your life, stop questioning and just listen.” Reilly took a deep breath and drew himself up to his full six-feet-four-inches. “I am an O’Rourke protector. I bend time to protect the prophecy, and I have sworn my loyalty to ensuring the secret remains just that—secret. I speak the truth when I say you are not from here. You are the O’Rourke daughter who will save our clan. And your destiny has come for you.” He ran his hand over the brooch. He led her to the north side of the passage and pointed to a slim opening. “We go through there and wait for sunset.”
Brianagh didn’t know what to make of him. She didn’t want to laugh at him, but…Bend time?“Um, quick time out, please. First of all, this area is locked to us. And, you can’t fit through there with all your gear.”
Reilly didn’t answer. He had placed his hands on either side of the opening and stood, silent. He spoke in a voice that shook her soul: “De réir an cumhacht ag an gods, ordaímse duit a oscailt le haghaidh dom, an Protector.”
“By the power of the gods, I command you to open for me, the Protector.”
The rock widened, and Reilly grabbed her hand and dragged her inside even as it began to close up again. She was immediately enveloped in the darkness, and her heart began to beat harder, though she took a moment to appreciate the special effects. She wondered if Ry had some movie connections, and reminded herself to ask him about it when the reenactment was over.
He led her away from the north wall, the small passageway veering to their left.
As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw he was using his hands to trace something on the wall as they walked. He was murmuring in that strange voice again, and she clutched her skirt in an effort to not get too swept up in the moment.
He turned to her suddenly and flashed a reassuring smile. “You are the future of our clan. You must trust me.”
She didn’t say a word, just watched him silently as he finished whatever he was doing and then braced himself against the wall.
He pulled her to him and slipped a dagger into her belt. “It might make you feel safer,” he said by way of explanation. “Keep it close to hand. This is your fate.” He gripped her chin, then gently placed a kiss on her forehead. “If I forget to tell you later, it’s been an honor. Hold on to me, as tightly as you can.”
The tiny cave was growing brighter as the light moved into it from a partially-covered window she hadn’t noticed.Sunset.
She looked up at Reilly, amazed at the beauty of the tomb.
He wrapped his arms around her, and as the cave flooded with the full light of the setting sun, the beams hit them. She gripped Reilly’s leather belt, her arms tightly coiled around him, as the world around her suddenly exploded into shards of light and space and a million other things she couldn’t identify. Shock blanked her mind; the only thing that anchored her to her body was Reilly, whose arms never moved from her. The shards of light were pelting her, bruising her skin, and she cried out as Reilly covered her body with his own, shielding her.
Her heart pounded in her ears for long minutes before she realized whatever had happened was over. She let out a shuddering breath, and Reilly slowly lifted off her, leaning back on his haunches.
“What the hell?” she finally managed, her eyes wide. “That was…” She trailed off, unable to find any words.
Reilly laughed, relief on his features. “Imagine that. I’ve finally found a way to shut you up!”
She snorted. “Yeah, you only had to ‘shift time’ to get me there.” She laughed, rolling her eyes. “So it’s over? That was pretty incredible. How did you make that vortex or wind tunnel or whatever it was? That thing was powerful! I bet that if time travel could happen, that’s what it’d feel like. Although I’d leave out the pelty-things next time. But otherwise—very realistic, Ry.”
He frowned. “Brianagh, we really did shift time. I bent it to my will to bring you back.”
“Oh, sorry. Just let me know when we’re done. I’ll stay in character until you say it’s over. So, back where?” she asked, looking around. “Where are we?”
