Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Marie skipped alongside Father Clarke, who hastily marched as he stopped every few feet. At the same time, he waited for Prior MacDougall, who walked at a plodding, steady pace.

Clarke waved his hand as he spoke. "No, thank you. I do not want to have a respite in your quarters. My wife"—Father Clarke pulled Marie beside him—"and I want to see the cross. Now!"

Marie stumbled alongside Clarke and winced. She tried to walk slower and stray behind Clarke as she hoped to signal the prior. She even made a face at Prior MacDougall, then raised her eyebrow as she signaled to him.

Father MacDougall folded his hands in his robes and nodded at her. "Maybe the lass would like to freshen up. She looks—a little road worn."

Marie nodded as she strode toward Prior MacDougall. Clarke grabbed her arm and snatched her back behind him.

When she cried in alarm, Prior MacDougall reached out to her.

Clarke stood his ground. "My wife stays with me."

Marie shook her head behind Clarke.

Prior MacDougall's gaze slid to the side of the monastery.

Marie's gaze followed, and a kilted highlander with a sword shifted behind the wall's corner. His plaid flashed the MacDougall pattern. Was he a guard?

Prior MacDougall nodded. "This way, my son." He stepped in measured steps toward an outer courtyard.

Now that they walked slower, Marie examined the area and searched for other men. She peered out across the garden area toward Loch Etive. Everything was so lush and green. The grounds were just as spectacular in the fifteenth century as in the twenty-first century, likely more so. There were just as wide varieties of flowers, trees, and shrubbery, although placed in varying different locales. She viewed the other priory buildings as they passed through an archway to another garden area.

They exited a garden into a courtyard that seemed to sit where the car park existed in the future but now held a circle of trees that lined the area where the large cross sat.

The prior stopped.

Clarke stopped behind him, and Marie startled as she almost ran into Clarke.

"The MacDougall Cross." Priory MacDougall waved at the large stone cross. "Just recently delivered to the grounds and placed in its place of honor. We had this garden created with its tribute to our devoted dedication and duty to God."

Marie peered at the cross but did a double take back to Prior MacDougall as he emphasized "duty to God." Marie sensed an undercurrent of energy about her like it encircled the garden.

The prior glanced at a tree behind her and widened his eyes, but when Marie turned, nothing stood there. She glanced at Clarke.

He stared at the cross. "Thank you, Father, that will be all." Clarke waved his hand as he still gazed at the cross.

Prior MacDougall glared down his nose at Clarke. "Excuse me, my son."

Clarke yelled, "You may leave. My wife and I need to pray in private."

Prior MacDougall stepped back.

Marie doubted anyone took that tone with him, let alone shouted.

The prior stepped forward as he spoke. "I believe I shall stay and pray with ye."

She wanted to scream yes but only jostled when Clarke shifted her as he slashed his hand. "That won't be necessary. We will pray alone."

Prior MacDougall glared at Marie, then Clarke. He nodded and slowly walked away as he folded his hands in his robes.

As he left, dread seeped into her heart. As he glanced back, he made the sign of the cross and nodded to the bushes. She turned her head and scanned them as another highlander ducked and hid. She sensed that something was about to happen.

When the prior cleared the wall and went out of sight, Clarke grabbed her arm and yanked her hard toward the cross. "Find it now, you bitch. Bring forth the stone."

Marie cried out as he dragged her to the cross and flung her to the ground. She crashed to her knees as her hands caught her fall, and her palms scraped the gravel.

She looked over her shoulder at Clarke. "I don't know what ye mean."

He slapped her hard. Stars danced across her vision, but she kept her head down and pretended to pray. Truthfully, she kept her head down and prayed for John.

****

John crouched behind a tree next to his da and witnessed everything. His blood boiled. The heat within him rose when the mangy excuse for a priest grabbed Marie's arm and made her cry out. He started toward her when the bastard slapped her.

His da grabbed his arm. "Wait, son, I know it's hard, but we must see if he'll produce the stone. Ye and Marie need it to travel back to the future."

John nodded at his da's wisdom and didn't question how he came by it. As difficult as it was, he sat back and observed.

Marie seemed to have gathered herself, took full breaths while she kneeled before the cross, and slid her gaze sideways to Clarke. "I'll need the cross. The one ye took from yer church in Iona. The cross will help me call the stone."

Clarke huffed, looked at the MacDougall Cross, and then at her. He shrugged, pulled the cross out of his bag, and handed it to her.

When the priest revealed the cross, John's da jolted beside him. The lone, deep purple stone glinted in the sunlight.

His da gasped. "Of course. How could I have been so blind?"

John glanced at his da, who smiled at him. "John, of all the things we have been through, ye know I love ye. I love ye and yer mother with all me heart."

John nodded and returned his da's gaze—something he grew used to being in the past with him, only now to realize he missed. "Of course, Da."

His da smiled and patted his face. "Ye have faith in me, faith in my love for ye."

John nodded as his eyes watered, and his voice cracked as he spoke. "Aye, Da, always."

If he and Marie returned to the future, he would leave his parents behind in the past and lose them all over again.

His da nodded once and placed his hand on John's shoulder. "Know what I do is for ye and yer love. My fate was determined long before ye traveled through the portal. A bargain made and a promise kept."

John didn't know what his da meant but nodded all the same.

His da smiled as he looked over John's face like he tried to commit it to memory. "Follow my lead, son. We go to save yer true love."

****

Marie gripped the cross and prayed with all her might for John to save her.

Clarke kicked her once. "Where's my damn stone, bitch?"

Marie grunted but kept her head lowered, eyes closed, and prayed for John's arrival. "Please send him to me. I have faith in ye, God. I have no fear in ye."

Marie opened her eyes, and before her stood the MacDougall Cross, whole and not broken. She wished he would allow her to study the cross at her leisure. Marie faced the side damaged in the twentieth century but whole now in the past. What little she viewed of the base looked exquisite.

So intent on her attention on the cross and that of Clarke, she didn't notice anyone approach until they were almost upon them. "Hello there, sir."

Clarke jerked at the voice.

Marie slid her gaze back to see who approached behind them. Two men stood directly behind her and Clarke, not but four feet away. It took her a moment to recognize John MacArthur, and the other looked like an older version of John. It's John, and he's here. He's come for me in the past. I'm saved!

She gasped and rose as she strode toward John. Only to have Clarke grab her arm and snatch her in front of him. She cried out and tried to say John, but she only yelped.

Clarke drew his dagger and held it under her chin.

John and the man drew swords. Behind them, the yard filled with armed highlanders that encircled the group.

Clarke gathered her tighter against him and raised the dagger. He nicked her throat, causing her to whimper in pain.

She shifted in his arms, and blood dripped down her neck.

Everyone froze.

John stepped toward her. His eyes pleaded as he gazed upon her.

The priest shifted her in his arms as he yelled, "Do not come closer. I'll kill her."

John shouted, "Marie, don't move, love."

Clarke's menacing laugh rang in her ear. "Love, is it?"

The older man slashed his arm. "John, ye are not following my lead."

"Aye, Douglas," a warrior nearby said.

So, his name is Douglas. isn't that John's da's name?

Clarke shifted from around Marie's head. "Drop your swords, or I'll cut her again." Father Clarke moved his dagger.

She lurched from another nick to her throat as more blood trailed down.

Everyone dropped their sword except John, who jolted when the priest cut her the second time.

Clarke nodded in John's direction. "Him especially."

Marie's eyes connected with John's as she shook her head slightly.

John glared at her, not dropping his weapon.

A warrior near him took the sword from his arm and lowered it to the ground.

Douglas nodded at both and returned his gaze to the priest who held her.

Marie shook in the madman's arms, helpless as they all stood there and waited. She held the cross to her chest as if it gave her hope.

Douglas didn't budge but stood waiting, but for what?

John glanced at the priest, then at the man before her. Something seemed amiss, but she couldn't put her finger on it. The wind shifted and blew around them as something ethereal stirred in the yard. Douglas folded his hands before him and waited.

The priest glanced from warrior to warrior and back at Douglas, who spoke. "So, ye're a priest from the future—" He looked the priest up and down. "—find what ye come for, then?"

From the corner of her eye, the priest's eyes widened and then narrowed on him. "What business is it of yours?"

Douglas took a step toward the madman. "I'm Douglas MacArthur, and ye are holding my future daughter-in-law. But I think ye are more interested in a stone than a pretty lass. How about ye release the girl, and we'll discuss the stone. The one ye are after?"

Marie's eyes widened and shot to John. Douglas was his father, who went missing in the future. Her eyes connected with John's, and her shock must have been apparent.

John gazed back at her and nodded as if to say, Aye, he's my father.

Clarke gripped her tighter. "No, I'll hold on to my insurance. But you can tell me of the stone, the Stone of Iona."

John's father sighed and took another step toward them. "Aw, son, there are many a stone from the isle of Iona. Yet only three make a difference. Which one are ye searching for?"

The priest stood frozen.

John's father laughed and took another step as he approached Marie and the priest. "Aye, I see it now. Ye don't know which stone ye seek."

Step by step, as John's father spoke smoothly, he crept closer to the priest and Marie. She glanced at John, who stood near his sword on the ground. The rest of the yard stayed frozen, maybe by sheer shock or another force. Marie wasn't sure.

John's father still spoke softly. "Ye see, son, to find what ye seek, ye must know what it is ye are looking for. If not, then ye are doing nothing but chasing yer lost mind."

As John's father approached Marie, the cross warmed in her hands. At first, she assumed it might be nerves, but the closer John's father came, the warmer the cross grew.

Someone whispered in her mind. Be not afraid of sudden fear, neither of the desolation of the wicked, when it comes.

She peeked at John, who stared intently at her. John's eyes slowly tracked to his father, who watched her. When her eyes connected with John's father, he winked. Had he heard the voice as well? The priest mustn't have. He didn't move.

As Douglas spoke to the madman, his eyes shifted to the cross. Then slowly up at her.

He nodded. His eyes traveled to the priest who held her and then back to her with wider eyes. "The mystery of the stones of Iona is a long and tragic tale… The stone in the cross, powered by emotions, can give or take life, depending on how ye use it."

John's father's voice faded as the cross grew warmer, hot in her hands. She glanced down, and a purple glow emanated from the front.

What John's father said, the words whispered in her mind, the stone in the cross. She held the Stone of Fear, and John's father wanted her to use it. Her eyes darted to his, and she smiled widely.

****

John paused, rooted in the ground. He sensed out of his body like he had no way to move, only an ability to witness—time slowed as he stood in stunned silence.

Marie twisted and turned in the priest's arms. She cut her arm as it passed the blade. His da took a deep breath as Marie pressed the cross to the priest's face. The cross sizzled and burned the priest. His da lunged as the priest shoved Marie away. Douglas caught her in his arms and shifted her behind him. She held the cross close to her chest.

The priest cried out and grabbed his face. He scowled at John's da and lunged with his knife.

His da stood his ground and didn't block the strike, turn, or back away. Douglas took the stab directly to the heart and shuddered as the blade struck true.

Marie screamed.

John ran forward and caught his da as he fell. The yard erupted into chaos. Guards swarmed the priest and captured him as he bellowed.

Marie ran to John and kneeled across from him—time sped up.

John breathed hard as he held and rocked his da. "Da, God, Da." John cried over and over.

His da opened his eyes and gazed at John. "My son, I love ye with all my heart. A bargain made and a bargain kept. Just as it should be."

John stared at his da.

Marie gasped a sob.

His da grabbed his shirt. "It's always as it should have been, son. I made a bargain with this Fae. I wanted to be with my wife, yer mom. And I got that. But they asked for a high price, too high a price. So, I took a chance and haggled."

Marie ripped fabric from her skirt and tried to stop the blood flow.

His da kept a tight grip on him as if he held on to the last threads of connection between father and son. "Heed me, boy. This happened as it should, and one day ye will understand. My time with yer mom had a price, but I couldn't lose ye."

He drew a deep breath and winced. John's heart broke at his da in pain. "They wanted yer life in exchange for my time with my love. So, I made that damn Fae Morrigan promise. If I delivered a Stone of Iona back to the Fae, they'd spare both yer lives, ye and yer true love's, by taking mine and yer mom's instead."

John's sob broke free, and he cried openly. "No! Not now that I found ye, found ye both only to lose ye all over again." His da sacrificed himself and his ma for him and Marie.

Douglas smiled and patted his cheek. "Don't worry, son. Yer mom and I will always be with ye. We have fulfilled our oath. We both may now rest in peace together in our eternal love." He took a shaky breath. "It's how we wanted it. Ye go home and reread the Fae Fable. Then it will make sense."

His da jolted, drew a shuddered breath, and glanced at Marie. "Such a pretty wife ye picked, son. Ye'll have bonnie kids."

His da took a short gasp and shook. "I love ye." With those words, Douglas James MacArthur drew his last breath, a smile for his son frozen on his face.

John sat there long, holding his da in his arms. Sounds reached him in the silence as people surrounded him, then shifted away. Marie softly sobbed as she stroked his da's head.

She glanced up and cried as she crawled beside him and took him in her arms.

The prior approached and faced them solemnly.

Marie shifted and tucked the cross into the folds of her skirt.

The prior sighed and made the sign of the cross over them.

He gazed around the yard. It had cleared. The madman was gone, and the guards were with them.

John glanced up at Prior MacDougall and started to speak, but the prior held his hand up. "We took the man to a cell and locked him away. He will stand before fellow priests for judgment, which I expect will be harsh."

The father slid his gaze to Marie. "My lady, are ye well?"

Marie glanced at John and then at the prior. "Aye, I am well, thank ye."

The father's gaze dropped to John's da, held still in John's arms. "A shame to die on holy ground. It will cast his soul into purgatory." John gasped.

The clergyman turned, his robes flared at the movement as he strode away.

Marie dropped her arms and huffed. "Wait, Father, that's not necessarily true."

Prior, MacDougall turned, raised his eyebrow, and glared down at Marie. "Excuse me, my child?"

Marie folded her arms and drew herself up and sat taller. "Is it not that the spirit of a virtuous human who dies on holy ground, God shall give the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit, which are—" She counted her fingers as she listed them. "—wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, piety, and the last, fear of the Lord."

The Father's eyebrows shot into his hairline. "Mm, why yes, that is true."

She snorted. "And isn't it true an evil person who dies on holy ground becomes stripped of these same gifts, except the fear in the Lord?" The clergy nodded and stared off.

John gazed at her, smiled, and leaned over and kissed her.

Prior MacDougall glanced back at them. "Bless ye, my son. Ye have a very courageous and knowledgeable woman as yer future wife." He signaled the monks behind him, who glided forward. "They will take the body and prepare him for burial." He made the sign of the cross over them, turned with a flare of his robes, and left the yard.

John carefully set his father on the ground and rose. He pulled Marie up with him and held her in his arms. As John and Marie stood solemnly, the monks gently lifted his da and carried him away.

When they had gone, John squeezed her. She returned his embrace, and they remained there momentarily as they held each other tightly.

John stepped back and gazed into Marie's eyes. "God, woman, ye gave me a sure fright."

Marie gazed into his eyes as tears filled them. "Ye came, ye came for me."

John blew out a snort. "Hell yes, I came for ye, ye daft woman. Made me jump time and chase ye all over western Scotland."

Marie laughed and twinged as her hand went to her neck.

John grabbed his handkerchief, wiped the blood, and pressed it on her cuts. "Ye okay, mo ghràdh?"

Marie nodded. "John, I am so sorry about yer father and mother."

"Aye, I am too. But it seems something my da planned all along."

He jolted and took Marie by the shoulders. "The stone. He said he recovered a stone."

Marie smiled and glanced around the yard before she revealed what she hid in her skirts. "I suspected this was it, but it wasn't until yer da started talking that I realized what I held."

She pulled the cross from her skirt and held it for John. The purple stone no longer glowed, and the one ruby stone glinted in the light.

John gasped. "The purple one, the Stone of Fear?"

Marie nodded. "Aye, yer da signaled me. I understood what to do. I don't know how; I just did. Father Clarke's loss of faith in God became his undoing. He turned away from God for his greed. I doubt God perceived him as a priest anymore. I sure as hell didn't."

John tilted his head, and Marie smiled. "Please, John, take me home. Please take me to Dunstaffnage. But in our time."

John smiled and glanced at the cross, then at her. "Aye, my love. Nothing would please me more."