“Which way was that?”

Ellie pointed in the general direction she sort of thought they may have come from. “Over there?”

“This is going to take a while,” Gwen sighed.

They ventured down a small, overgrown path, the leaves sticking to Ellie’s jeans. She batted them away for a little while before giving up. Her palms were scratched and a little bloody from all the prickers embedded in the denim; shecouldn’t wait to get back to the cottage and find some sort of balm for her stinging hands.

Gwen and Ellie walked for a few more minutes when there was a sudden burst of light from somewhere near them. Gwen grabbed Ellie, and they held tightly to each other as hail pelted their skin, disorienting them. Just as quickly as the lightning struck, the hail stopped, leaving both women breathless and shaken. The air was quite suddenly heavy and even stiller than before, and the daylight around them began to fade.

“What,” Gwen whispered, “was that?”

“Just a freak storm.” Ellie stood on shaky legs and looked up into the dense canopy of the trees. “We’ve got to get back. I don’t care to be out in weather like this.”

They both looked at each other and, without saying any more, continued on their way.

They were even more lost than they thought, for they came not to Reilly’s cottage, but to a large clearing that was both unfamiliar and out of place in the thick forest. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and a cool breeze swept across the tall grass, the blades waving wildly in the wind. The clouds were dark and heavy, hanging over them as Ellie and Gwen tried to figure out where they were.

“I thought we were going the right way,” Ellie exclaimed, frustration lacing her tone. “But now I have no idea where we are!”

“Where, pray tell, are you supposed to be?”

The two women shrieked and spun around in surprise. A teenager, dressed in the strangest outfit Ellie had ever seen, was looking at them with huge, curious blue eyes. A mop of unruly dark blond hair gave him an uncanny likeness to Colin. The long, deep blue tunic was belted with a silver rope, his leggings were a deep gray, and his well-worn boots looked to be made from stretched leather. He held a basket in one arm, a scythe in the other, and a sword strapped to hisback…but he couldn’t have been more than fifteen or sixteen years old.

A moment passed, and the boy stood taller. “I heard your speech. I believe you can understand me,” he added in his strange accent.

“We can, and we’re lost,” Gwen informed him. “We’re trying to get back to our cottage, but we got turned around in the forest.”

The boy looked over their shoulders at the forest, then over his own toward the approaching—or was it receding?—storm. “There isn’t any cottage for leagues. You must be quite lost indeed. Perhaps, were you to give me the name of your sire, I could obtain my own sire’s services in returning you safely from whence you came?”

Ellie, still too surprised to form any coherent words, exchanged a startled glance with Gwen.Whoisthis kid?He spoke like a character from one of her historical fiction novels.

“Oh!” Gwen exclaimed, a look of relief crossing her face. “I bet you’re one of Reilly’s students.”

“Reilly’s students?” Ellie echoed.

“Uh huh,” Gwen replied, relief in her voice. “He runs a training school for swordplay. Teaches Hollywood types and guys with too much testosterone.”

Ellie felt her breath loosen in her chest.

“I guess we know now where he was headed,” Ellie murmured. Gwen gave a sheepish nod.

“Reilly?” the young man exclaimed. He cleared his throat manfully and looked about him. “Do you have a surname for this Reilly?”

“O’Malley,” Gwen replied, and Ellie was certain there was never a boy who lit up quite like this one did at the mention of Reilly O’Malley.

“He’s coming back?” the boy asked, his eyes alight. “Mama will be so pleased!”

Ellie flinched as a peal of thunder split the sky. “Who’s your mum?”

“Oh, of course. Allow me to present myself. I am Aidan MacWilliam, and my sire is Nioclas MacWilliam.” He paused for dramatic effect. “As in,theMacWilliam.”

Another Aidan MacWilliam?Ellie frowned.

Gwen caught Ellie’s eye, and they shared a skeptical look.

The boy continued, “My mother is, of course, Lady MacWilliam.”

“Of course,” Ellie murmured.