Chapter 32

Phillip was beginning to wonder just how familiar his sire was with paranormal oddities.

He’d heard that spoken in hushed tones over the course of his life, but his father had said it with such reluctance that he’d determined early on that whatever those might be, they were things he definitely didn’t want to become entangled in. That he should presently find himself in such straits shouldn’t have surprised him.

He sat in the lord’s solar in front of a roaring fire and tried to focus on what was happening around him. It was difficult. He had to continually look at the glass in his hand and the clothing on his person to remember when he was. The where was not as difficult, but the when... that gave him pause.

He was listening to his, er, grandson, Stephen, and Stephen’s wife, Peaches, discuss events of the current day with Imogen, allowing the modern English with its lovely lilt wash over him. He could bring to mind innumerable such afternoons spent in his father’s solar with his family, discussing the events of the day, wondering about the events of the future, enjoying the company of people he loved. It was powerfully odd to sit there with three souls he didn’t know quite so well and do what was in essence the same thing yet have it be so different.

He looked back over his life and examined his time at Sedgwick with a new and jaundiced eye. He had been there when his aunt Persephone had arrived in the past. At the moment, he honestly couldn’t remember what excuse his uncle had given for her oddities and he wasn’t sure if with all the time that had passed he could remember them properly. The truth was, she had had a plethora of things he’d dismissed: words, ideas, habits.

He wondered if it was worth it to her presently.

If the rumors were true, his aunt Jenner was from the Future as well. ’Twas no wonder those little terrors Samuel and Theopholis were always on the prowl for things to investigate. Their mother was the biggest mystery of all and he couldn’t imagine she was surrendering any of her secrets without a fight. Those two demons were likely simply honing their skills in other places for use at home.

He sipped on his wine, then had to set it aside because his hand was trembling more than he cared for anyone to see. It wasn’t that he was unnerved. He was weary, that was it. The Future was loud and busy and seemingly endlessly awake.

“Would you like a tour?”

Phillip realized Stephen was asking that of Imogen. She started to answer, then looked at him.

“What do you think?”

“I think I might survive it,” he managed.

“Then let’s go,” Stephen said. “Do you mind, love?”

Peaches de Piaget, who looked as if she might give birth any moment, smiled and waved them on. “Let me know how it goes and if Phillip has any secret hiding places he wants to tell us about.”

“I’ll be sure and ask,” Stephen said with a laugh. He kissed his wife, then led them out of the solar.

Phillip followed, having made a less personal but no less heartfelt farewell to the lady of the house. He found it rather more natural than not to take Imogen’s hand as they walked, which he hoped wouldn’t annoy her beyond reason. She didn’t seem averse, which he appreciated.

He wasn’t completely surprised by the improvements he saw and ’twas fascinating, he had to admit, to listen to Stephen describe when those various additions had been made. He wasn’t sure he would ever be comfortable with the vast amounts of happenings that lay ahead for him, but there was nothing to be done about it.

“Let’s start in the portrait gallery,” Stephen said. He smiled at Phillip. “You may want to see yourself, I believe. Your uncle Jackson painted you.”

Phillip had to take a steadying breath. “I’m not sure I want to see that.”

Stephen looked at him in surprise, then closed his eyes briefly. “Of course. I hadn’t thought about it, actually. Why don’t I just tell you that you looked very dashing and leave it at that?”

“Coward that I am,” Phillip said, “I think that might be best.” He looked at the current lord of Artane. “’Tis a bit like walking over my own grave, you see.”

“I do see,” Stephen said seriously. He stopped. “We needn’t see anything, if it’s too much. Or you can just wander as you care to on your own. It is, after all, your hall.”

Phillip shook his head. “’Tis yours now. The thought that it was mine for any length of time at all—” He looked at Stephen. “I’m almost afraid to ask for any details about that.”

“Oh, you were lord here,” Stephen said with a smile, “but I won’t tell you anything of it. Don’t want to jinx you. I can show you the hall of weapons, if you like. We keep things behind glass for the tourists, but I’ll admit to having picked the odd lock in my youth. Kendrick’s lads are notorious for it now.”

“He has lads?”

“A set of triplets and two others, plus a wee gel.”

Phillip paused, then he laughed. It was, he had to admit, the first time he’d actually felt anything akin to true amusement, he hardly knew what to do with himself. “Tell me they’re terrors.”

“All six,” Stephen said. “Delightful, of course, but if your brother has any gray hair, he can thank his children for it.”

“It serves him right,” Phillip said with a snort, “considering all the same he gave our sire.” He looked at Imogen. “Would you call that a just recompense?”

“I’d call it Karma,” she said dryly. “Be afraid of her.”

He thought he just might be. He followed Stephen through the great hall and into a wing that hadn’t been there in his time. He had to take a deep breath before he could cross the threshold where it had simply been cut into the stone of his home.

“New,” Stephen supplied. “In the sixteenth century. It was originally a passage built to hide things. It originally cut through the foundation and led to something that looked remarkably like an aboveground cistern.”

“To hide what?”

“Treasures from a greedy king and his rampaging henchmen,” Stephen said.

“What did we hide?”

“Religious relics and a few important humans,” Stephen said. “A dodgy time, but worth the sacrifice. We’ll follow this passageway just for a bit, then you’ll see the new wing. New, of course, is relative.”

Phillip imagined it was. He looked at Imogen to find she was watching him. He smiled. “Paranormal oddities.”

“I’ll just bet.”

He found himself rather glad, all things considered, that Heather had provided him with access to so much history. It made him feel far less overwhelmed to at least have some idea of what had gone on in the world after he’d had his turn tilting at it. He had to admit there was no small amount of satisfaction over the care his posterity had taken of his father’s hall.

“And here we have weapons,” Stephen said. “Lots of lovely things in surprisingly good condition.”

Phillip had to stop himself from grunting simply because he supposed Stephen was thinking the same thing. Who knew what inhabitants of Artane had contributed things at what point? Given what he himself had already experienced over the past pair of days, he didn’t suppose he would be surprised by much.

The collection was extensive, unfolding a thorough history before him as he walked past the glass cases. He found himself eventually back where he’d started, looking at a tall case that was empty. He frowned, then looked at Stephen.

“Something is missing.”

“Unfortunately,” Stephen said. “A sword, as it happens. Legend has it that the sword belonged to, well, your grandfather, Rhys. It was used for knighting ceremonies by each of the lords of Artane until the dispensing of those honors was taken over by the crown. I understand the sword was actually used by the first lords in battle.”

Phillip looked around. Damnation, didn’t people need to sit in the Future? He didn’t protest the offer of Imogen to lean on, though he supposed that was a less disinterested choice than it might have been otherwise. He looked at Stephen.

“Let me guess,” he managed. “Tall sword, some inscriptions, large blue stone in the hilt.”

Stephen didn’t look surprised. “Yours?”

“My grandfather’s, then my father’s, then mine.”

“It went missing—”

“Five years ago?” Phillip asked sourly.

For the first time since opening the front door, Stephen looked startled. “How did you know?”

“I know who has it.”

“Wait,” Imogen said, looking at him. “If Heather took it in the past, how did it disappear in the future? It was obviously here for at least some period of time and apparently used for centuries before that.”

“She changed history,” Phillip said, wondering if that was actually as daft a thought as it sounded. “I can think of nothing else.”

Unless... unless the sword had gone missing in the past and he’d been too dead to recover it.

“Any thoughts on where to find it?” Stephen asked. “Sentimental value, and all that.”

Phillip found it rather difficult to breathe, all of the sudden. It was difficult enough to think in terms of a single lifetime and all the plotting and scheming that such a thing required. Add to that multiple lifetimes, several centuries, and Heather of Haemesburgh’s vile sense of jest, and he was truly in dire straits.

“I need to think,” he said.

“Where?” Stephen asked.

“The great hall, perhaps.”

Stephen nodded, then gestured toward a different doorway. “Private access.”

“Another hiding place?”

“We’re not sure,” Stephen said honestly. “I suspect ’tis a pair of lads simply burrowing behind the walls at some point during the castle’s history, but that’s just me.”

Phillip looked at him sharply. “Do these suspects have names?”

“I hate to say,” Stephen said with a shiver. “It’s tantamount to summoning them, I’ve found, and I’ve seen more of that pair of Nicholas’s sons than I care to.”

“In the Future?” Imogen gasped.

He looked at her. “Perhaps.”

“Why?” Phillip asked.

“Because I think one of them helped me with a suitcase that had come open in London,” she said with a shiver. “I’m not sure I would have made my train north without him.”

“Penance,” Stephen said dryly. “They have a lifetime of it to make up for the havoc they’ve wreaked and the mischief they’ve made. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least to find it was one of them.” He looked at Phillip. “This way, my lord. I’ll see to some wine.”

Phillip followed him, but remembered very little of the journey save that Imogen’s hand in his was very cold. He sat down finally with her in front of one of the massive hearths in the great hall and sighed. He stared into the flames for quite some time before he looked at her.

“’Tis baffling,” he said. “If Heather took my sword in 1249, why did it just go missing five years ago now? In the Future, rather?”

“I have no idea,” she said, shrugging helplessly. “She obviously had it a couple of weeks ago when I used it, which means she has to still have it now.”

“But how can she have it now if the lords of Artane had it in the past?” he asked. He rubbed the space between his eyes. “The traveling back and forth gives me a pain right here.”

“I understand, believe me.”

Phillip closed his eyes. “Forgive me if I sit here and suffer stoically for a moment or two.”

She laughed. “Suffer away. I’ll keep watch.”

He wasn’t sure how long he suffered, but it was apparently long enough to lead to his falling asleep. He woke to a touch on his shoulder and sat up, reaching for his sword. He sighed, shot Imogen a smile, then looked at Stephen.

Something was wrong.

Stephen was smiling, though, in a way that a man was wont to smile when he didn’t want to unsettle anyone in the vicinity who didn’t need to be unsettled.

“If I could have your ear, old bean,” Stephen said, “just for a moment.” He smiled at Imogen. “If you don’t mind?”

Imogen waved him on. “Please.”

Phillip walked with Stephen across the great hall and toward the lord’s solar. He frowned at his, ah, whatever he was.

“What is it?”

“Something you’ll want to see. She arrived just a moment ago.”

Phillip walked into the solar behind Stephen, then pulled up short at the sight of Heather of Haemesburgh sitting in a chair in front of the fire.

Phillip cursed and walked around the chairs to squat down in front of her. “What in the hell happened to you?” he demanded.

“I was attacked,” she said, holding something to the eye that was going to be swollen shut by morning. “Trust me, he got worse than he gave.”

“Attacked where?” Stephen asked.

“In your car park, my lord,” Heather said. “Let me tell this once, then you two decide what you want to do.” She pulled the cloth away from her eye. “I was following you, Phillip, to make certain you didn’t ding my car. I thought to take a bit of sea air, when my foe assaulted me. I was taken by surprise, which is the only reason he made off with my automobile.”

“The Ford?” Phillip asked in surprise.

“Range Rover,” she said with a snort. “I wouldn’t be caught dead driving that runabout and you’re missing the issue here. My car is gone.”

“Buy another,” Phillip said.

“It has your sword in it, you fool!”

Phillip felt his way back into a chair. “My sword?”

She rolled her eyes. “Am I destined to be surrounded by men so thick I must repeat everything I say? Aye, you idiot, your sword! Worse still, ’twas someone who knows what to do with it and I’m talking about impaling you with it.”

“Who?” Phillip asked, though he supposed he didn’t need to ask.

“Robert, of course. My brother, Robert. And he vowed to destroy you.”

“But I’m here in the Future.”

“He doesn’t know that.”

Phillip sat back in his chair, then looked at Stephen. “What do you think?”

Stephen looked a little green. “I’m not sure what to think. I like my comfortable existence here, something I may be without if you find yourself dead.” He sat with a gusty sigh. “I could dig up a history book.”

“Don’t,” Phillip said, only to realize that Heather had said the same thing. He shot her a dark look. “In agreement at last.”

She didn’t look any better than Stephen. “Think this through, my lord Phillip. What if you find in some book that my brother slays you, then slays your family, what would you do?”

“Stop him.”

“And if you found out that your family was safe because you acted,” she said. “What would you do then?”

“Stop him.”

“Exactly,” she said. “There is no point in knowing the future, Phillip, because you’re going to do your knightly duty just the same. I suggest you do what you need to do and leave events to proceed as they will.”

He could see the sense in it, though he had to admit he didn’t care for the not knowing. “I’ve no idea how to get to the past save through Haemesburgh, though I have to believe there are other means.”

“Edinburgh has a gate or two,” Heather said. “I can show you.”

He imagined she could. He looked at Stephen. “Can you take care of Imogen? Get her back to Edinburgh tomorrow?”

“And just what are you going to do?”

“Take Heather back, then do what I must.” He stood up and looked at Heather. “We’ll leave in half an hour if you can travel.”

“I can’t drive, but I can travel.”

“I’ll drive.”

She winced, then nodded. “As you will.”

“I’ll meet you in the courtyard in a quarter hour.”

He clapped his grandson—and one day he would have to decide just how many generations separated them, if there were generations separating them and he had actually managed to become lord of Artane in the past—on the shoulder, then left the lord’s solar. He walked out into the great hall, finding that it was a much less enjoyable experience than it had been but an hour before.

Imogen was standing in front of the fire, watching him. He walked over to her, then stopped in front of her.

“Heather is here.”

She looked at him in surprise. “Why?”

“She followed us to make sure I didn’t destroy her car. She was attacked in the car park by someone. I fear it was her brother.”

She studied him. “You fear, or you know?”

He dragged his hands through his hair. “I know. He’s vowed to go back to the past and slay my family. I have to go back and stop him.”

“Without your sword.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

She took a deep breath, then put her shoulders back. “I’ll come along. I am extremely good at spotting trouble and avoiding it, you know, with the siblings and all. That might be useful for you.”

He thought he just might love her. He reached out and pulled her into his arms. He closed his eyes and held her close for not nearly as long as he wanted to. He sighed finally and stepped back.

“I can’t take you with me,” he said seriously. “’Tis a difficult time, full of terrible dangers.”

She took a deep breath. “Of course. I understand.”

He wanted to tell her that she couldn’t understand because he wasn’t telling her the truth. He wanted to take her with him, wanted to drop to one knee and ask her to wed with him, wanted to damn Fate and all her incarnations and simply do what he wanted. But he couldn’t, because he had seen the Future and knew what he would be asking her to give up to come with him.

Worse still, he had seen the past and knew how very likely it was he wouldn’t survive what he intended to do.

“Stephen will get you back to Edinburgh,” he said quietly. “Tomorrow, of course. He has a guest chamber you can stay in tonight. I’ve had your gear fetched from the car.”

She nodded, then took another step back. “Good luck.”

Her eyes were swimming with tears. He looked at her far longer than he should have, then made her a brief bow and walked away before he unmanned himself in front of her by shedding tears himself.

···

It was late when he stood in the back of a coffee shop and contemplated his immediate future. Heather had assured him there was a gate there and he had every reason to suppose she wanted him to succeed as badly as he needed to. He took a deep breath and dialed his brother.

“Where are you?” Kendrick asked. “Still at home?”

“Nay,” Phillip managed. “Edinburgh.”

“Why the hell for?”

“I’ve got to go back. There’s trouble that I must see to.”

Kendrick sighed. “I would say you had all the time in the world, but having had all that time myself, I understand your concern.”

“What in the bloody hell are you talking about?”

“Ask Jake when you get back home.”

Phillip paused. “I want to come see you, but I’m not sure how I can manage that now.”

Kendrick, to his credit and likely because he was so damned old, only cleared his throat roughly. “That’s why there are so many bloody time gates. Again, ask Jake. Come for a holiday, you and Imogen.”

Phillip frowned. “What do you know?”

“Nothing,” Kendrick said. “Just that she might be amenable to a bit of a visit. Eventually.”

Phillip supposed they had a bit more conversation, but he couldn’t remember it. He was fairly certain he’d told his brother he loved him and that he would see him soon. Past, present, he had no idea which one it would be. All he knew was that he soon found himself looking at the phone in his hand and wondering how he might manage without one in the past. He looked at Heather.

“I’ll do what I can.”

“I know,” she said. “Thank you.”

“Why Imogen?” he asked, because he apparently had absolutely no self-control.

“Her brother did me a good turn five years ago,” she said simply. “The particulars aren’t important. Suffice it to say, he saved my life. I thought to repay him by making his sister happy.”

“And you’re rewarding them both with me?” Phillip asked in astonishment.

“I’m daft, I know,” Heather said tartly. “You also haven’t wooed and won anyone. If you don’t do something other than stand there and blather on, you never will. Give me your phone. You won’t be needing it.”

He supposed she had a point there. He handed her his phone, then walked into the shop and into one of the serving wenches there. She was wearing all kinds of bits of metal on her face and had decorated herself in various ways that he genuinely wished he’d had the time to admire. She handed him a cup.

“A mocha. You look like you need it.”

He accepted the cup, then turned around and walked out into the alley.