Binding Vows (MacCoinnich Time Travel Trilogy 1)

Ian’s foot knocked Amber’s door off its lock.

Amber rocked and cowered in the corner of her room.

He ran to his youngest child, took her into his arms.

“Tara... Tara... The mean woman has her, Da.”

She hit her hand to her head. “They keep kicking her and hitting her. Tara is so scared.”

“Who has her, Amber?” He wiped away the fallen tears. “Who is the mean woman?”

“Grainna.”

Amber held her hand in front of her, as if she could stop Tara’s pain from afar. “No!”

Ian signaled to Fin to ready the men. It took a half hour, but Ian coaxed what information he could out of Amber. He calmed her enough to leave her with Megan and Cian, so he could direct the men.

“Why does Lancaster do her biding? He is not Druid,” Ian asked his son.

“Grainna had many men who followed her. She had power over their minds.” Fin sheathed his sword and prepared to mount his horse. “Alyssa’s parents told me Lancaster was last seen with their daughter.”

“We’ve no way of knowing if there are others who Grainna controls. If Lancaster did what we saw earlier, then there is nothing he would not do for her.” A search party formed and before the sun set they, along with Fin, moved out in the direction Jacob saw Lady Tara depart.

Ian had the daunting task of waiting. Cian slumbered in the chair beside him. Amber finally fell to sleep in her room.

With every hour, he felt his wife’s presence draw nearer. He sensed her fatigue at the long hard ride and kept their internal conversation minimal, knowing there was very little good to say.

As his son and wife rode closer, Ian called off the guard. Completely unconcerned at the questions which would arise about why his wife was with Duncan, he ordered the gate lowered. He would fix those problems later. For now, he thought only of how he would explain to Duncan how he failed in keeping his wife safe.

A fate he never foresaw, and as God as his witness, would never allow to happen again.

Like the pot above the fire, Grainna’s anger simmered. She should kill Tara now, and use her blood like she had the other. Grainna killed the village girl to vent her rage when she realized she was not innocent. She would have killed her anyway, but that was no matter. The power, which surged while the girl slid slowly into the abyss, was enough to try one of her old rituals, a ritual which had brought some amount of power to her in the past.

It worked, to a small degree. Her face lost ten years of age, and her body felt a bit of strength returning. Very little of the girl’s powers transmitted to her, but a part of her youth did.

Perhaps her luck was returning.

Lancaster’s weak mind was easy to control.

Even now the fool stared off into space. His mind only saw birds, stupid ugly birds. With a simple motion or thought, Grainna could have him snap Tara’s neck.

Tara’s sanity had started to waver, she thought.

When Grainna reached into Tara’s mind, all she heard were nursery songs. Fear for her unborn child kept her singing. There was no sign she reached out for help from her husband, or his family. Grainna had plenty of time before Duncan would find her.

And she knew, without any doubt, he would come.

For now, she weighed her options carefully. The virgin was gone. But Scotland was littered with virgins and Druids. If killing one weak Druid gave her back ten years, than killing others could do the same. Slowly, she would gain back what she had lost. The Ancients left a loophole in their curse, one she would exploit.

She would wait to kill the sniveling woman in the corner. Wait until her mate could watch.

Destroying love and life was her sweetest revenge.

Tara never took her eyes off of her. Her hours of clinical work in the psychiatric ward at the hospital were coming in handy. She rocked back and forth sometimes singing quietly, always singing in her head. Grainna’s probing into her mind wasn’t gentle.

She slammed inside bringing pain and leaving anguish in her wake.

Why she hadn’t made a move on her in hours, Tara couldn’t fathom. She sure as hell wasn’t going to ask.

As much as she wanted to peek into Grainna’s head, she didn’t dare. To do so would invite her into hers, and Tara didn’t want that.

So, she rocked and sang. All the while her hands struggled, pulling at the bindings on her wrists.

Strength wasn’t working, so she used little sparks of fire like Duncan had taught her when lighting a candle. She winced when the fire singed her skin and missed the rope. Despite burning her flesh, she kept at it. What choice did she have? Her unborn child’s life depended on her escape.

She couldn’t feel Duncan, couldn’t hear him. For a short time Tara thought she had, but then realized it was Amber in her thoughts. Afraid to speak outright to Amber with her thoughts, Tara sang her hints and clues.

Hush little Amber don’t say a word, Tara is hidden in the woods. I can hear a stream nearby. I need to sing this lullaby. ****

The sun on the new day was cresting the horizon when Duncan and Lora rode into the yard.

Silently, Lora went straight to Amber.

Duncan cornered his father. “Tell me.”

Duncan listened to his father relay the day’s events, starting with Alyssa’s death and ending with Lancaster taking Tara. Duncan kept his fear in check, even when it threatened to take him over.

“She must be far away. I can only sense her.”

“Amber acts as though she can hear her.”

“How?”

“She mumbled something about a secret spell her and Tara had shared. Do you know what she speaks of?”

“Nay.” But his clever wife wasn’t afraid of anything, so he wasn’t surprised to hear his father talk of spells.

They went to Amber’s room. Lora was in bed beside her and stroking her long hair, soothing her as mothers do.

Amber’s eyes fluttered open. Seeing her brother at the end of her bed, she crawled over the covers and circled her arms around him. “She’s waiting for you, Duncan. She’s in the woods by the falls.”

“Can you hear her?”

She nodded. “She sings to keep the other one out. She doesn’t want me to talk with her for fear Grainna will hear. But she’s frightened.”

That he knew, but to hear his youngest sister’s tearful report made him restless to be on his way.

“The falls? Do you know which ones?”

Amber closed her eyes and repeated what Tara was singing.

“The woods are deep and thick by me. Lots of great big tall, tall trees. The cottage has an old thatched roof. The smoke will give off big black soot.