Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Dunstaffnage Castle 1498

John sipped whisky and studied Colin's ancestor, Laird John Alexander McDougall, as they sat in the study. His fifth great-grandfather, Douglas MacArthur, stood by the fireplace and stared at John as he took a slow mouthful of whisky. Douglas resembled John's grandfather, an exact spitting image. He laughed out loud.

Laird Alexander raised an eyebrow as they sat in the chairs before the desk. John glanced at Alexander, who looked more like Colin's father than Colin. Colin remained the identical replica of Laird Roderick MacDougall from the seventeenth century. John became a little dizzy.

John shook his head. "It's surreal, that's all. I'm sitting here with an ancestor in the same room I stood in, in the twenty-first century."

Alexander smiled. "So, the clan survives until the twenty-first century. Good to know we are the powerhouse then that we are now."

John's eyebrows shot up. He covered the reaction as he took a pull on his whisky. He couldn't tell them what became of their future. John glanced into his glass and recalled Scottish history, the clan's wars, the Jacobite rising, and the fall of the Scottish people. They needed to live this out on their own, without future knowledge.

Time, that was the irony. Colin traveled from the future to right the past. John jumped to the past to bring Marie back and right the future. What did the future hold for him and Marie? Fortunately, both ancestors received some exposure to the Fae and the stones and vowed to help. At least Brigid and Morrigan were here. Well, not in this room, but around somewhere. Laird Alexander and Douglas mentioned they met them.

Laird Alexander shifted in his chair. "Glad I canceled me trip. Someone stole our horses last night. It's good I remained here when ye arrived." He sipped his whisky. "I sent me wife Anabelle on ahead anyway. We were te visit her family. I should thank ye for saving me a trip te me in-laws." He chuckled.

The men laughed, and Alexander leveled his gaze at John. "So, we'll connect ye with Douglas MacArthur, our main boat captain. The best sailor on the seas. We'll get yer Marie back."

John glanced at Douglas by the fireplace, who frowned. "Not me, ye dafty." He pointed to his chest. "I'm Douglas John, the captain of the castle. Our cousin Douglas James is the boat captain." Douglas James, the same as his da, who went missing. A chill snaked down John's spine, and he shook it off. The males in the family were all named after each other. Maybe they named his da after this one.

Alexander rubbed his chin. "I had planned to send him to Islay to negotiate the new partnership with the whisky distillery. They make it, we ship it for a share of profit, and"—he held his glass up—"the best whisky in Scotland."

Douglas held his glass. "I'll drink to that."

Alexander laughed. "Ye'll drink to anything."

Both men raised their glasses and said in unison, "Slainte!" and sipped their whisky.

Alexander turned back to John. "We'll send ye down to see him. He's just returned from a run and sailed around the western coast. He sees and talks to many on his travels. I'll bet he's got news of where yer woman is."

John nodded. "I'm grateful for yer help. We'll track her down, and I'll be back before ye know it." He came closer to her now, and he needed to find her. It took all John's willpower as he sat there and drank, but he needed their help. Hell, he needed all the help he could get. He wanted to get out of there now. John exhaled and chugged his whisky. Aye, he needed Marie.

Alexander stood. "Douglas, get him down to the dock before he drinks all me whisky while pining for his woman."

John stood and set his glass on the desk. "Thank ye, Laird. I appreciate all ye are doing."

Douglas led him out of the study through the hall and into the bailey. They strode to the dock at the castle's rear and passed through the village that became Marie's next project. John took stock of all around him, the rows of huts, the smithy, the tanner. Heck, even the boat house in the distance looked just as Marie described. God, she would love this, a peek into history and the project she would work on in the future.

Douglas kept glancing at John every few steps and then back to the trail. "Are ye sure ye are me relation? Ye don't look much like me?"

John smiled. "Ye are the spitting image of my grandda. We're related, I promise ye."

Douglas stopped and gazed into the distance. "Twenty-first century? What's it like?"

John rubbed his neck. Of all people sent to the past, a previous physics major understood the ramifications of sharing information from the future with someone from the past. Even accidentally mentioning any outcome of an event that influenced history changed the future, and harmed those he loved—hell, even affected the world. He couldn't share much, or the future would change, and he couldn't allow that to happen. Keep it simple and vague, yet always stick to the truth. That's what his da always said.

John shrugged, "Faster, easier, less nature. Enjoy what ye got now." He clapped Douglas on the shoulder and proceeded to the dock.

John gazed at the dock and the largest ship he had ever seen. Today became the first time John had seen a galleon so close. He witnessed a replica sail the loch once, but it wasn't near the size of this vessel. The old boat reminded him of his father, an avid mariner who spent many hours sailing on the family-owned antique sailboat with Colin's da, Laird Ronald MacDougall. His da's voice echoed as he described the parts of the ship, and John's gaze roamed the ship.

"The most distinguishing feature of a galleon is the long, prominent beak which formed the bulkhead, followed by a foremast and mainmast, the centermost tall columns the sails hung on. Both foremasts were taller than the single lateen-rigged mizzenmasts closer to the rear, which also held sails. Below those, the square quarter gallery at the stern was a place to stand and captain the ship."

Douglas clapped him hard on the back, and John stumbled as Douglas yelled to the ship. "Ahoy, Captain, got an addition to yer voyage this trip. Come on down, Dougie."

John glanced at Douglas as he raised an eyebrow and mouthed Dougie?

Douglas smiled. "Ye'll like the captain. Everyone likes Dougie." A tall man with hair the color of John's made his way down the plank from the boat to the dock. His face remained down, but his movements looked familiar.

As the man drew near, Douglas said, "John, meet yer cousin, Douglas James MacArthur." When introduced, the man raised his face and gaped at John. John nearly stumbled as he grabbed Douglas' arm. The man on the plank stopped and stared for a moment. It can't be. He stood in the fifteenth century, for crying out loud. How the hell is this possible, and how the hell did this happen?

John became the first to recover—his breath expelled in a whoosh. "Da?"

Douglas John glanced between them both and scratched his head. "Dougie, I thought ye said ye was from Oban."

His da smiled widely. "It's a long story, Douglas, but right now, I'm going to catch up with my son."

Douglas shrugged and strolled away as he mumbled. "He said he was from Oban. Now his son is from the future. Damned Morrigan's Fae tricks again."

John's father strode to him and gathered him in an enormous hug. "God, John, I've missed ye."

His father's voice hitched a little as John's eyes watered and his nose itched. His arms slowly wrapped around his father. He hadn't had a hug from him in so many years. He believed he stayed in a dream but stood and held his da.

John held back tears and barely breathed. "Da?" was all he managed to say. Tears streamed down his da's face as they gazed at each other in stunned silence.

Finally, his da wrapped an arm around his shoulder as he steered him to the plank. "Come on, and I'll show ye the boat."

They climbed the plank, and his father yelled over his shoulder. "Hugh, go run and get the missus from my cottage. Tell her it's time, our son is here for his visit, and she's only got till dusk to see him. We set sail tonight."

John tripped and almost fell off the plank. "Ma? Mom is here."

His dad clapped him. "Ye haven't been reading the Fae Fable Book as I told ye. I thought Granny was there to help ye."

He strode ahead of John as he muttered, "Can no one do anything right?"

****

As the boat sailed away, John watched the castle fade in the dusky light. His parents, ma, da, lived here in the fifteenth century. After all these years, he visited his parents. Hell, he hugged them both and touched them in real life.

His ma, God, he hadn't seen her in years. Not since she died when he was thirteen. When she stepped into the captain's cabin, John's heart dropped to his feet. At first, they stood and stared. Then he stepped into her arms and felt like a little boy again.

He openly sobbed as she said, "My son, my sweet grown son."

John stood and held her, then smelled her hair, light wildflowers. He embraced her longer as he allowed her love to encircle him. The three of them sat close, always touching—a pat on the knee, a touch to the arm, a grasp of a hand, not wanting to let any moment go.

John couldn't stop himself from asking, "So how did ye end up in the fifteenth century, and what is this bargain with the Fae, Da?"

His da exchanged a glance with his ma, who glanced down as his da patted his knee. "Nothing ye should worry over, something between Morrigan and myself."

His ma touched his leg. "Ye have met her, Morrigan yer Fae?"

John ran his hand through his hair. "Aye, first in a dream, then yesterday in real life."

His da nodded. "That's how they always start, son. Ye need to be wary of the Fae, John. They may seem to help, but it's mostly tricks and games for them. What they do with humans, that is." His ma and da exchanged another glance.

John tried to ask more questions, but they inquired about him as they skimmed over their time in the past. They spent all their time catching up on John's life, the castle. He spoke about Marie and how they fell in love while Colin and Bree recovered a Stone of Iona in the seventeenth century.

Before he realized it, it became time to set sail. What would happen now? Now he had found his parents in the past. As he stood there and the castle grew smaller in the dusk, he figured his parents didn't want him to know, and perhaps he remained better off not knowing.

His eyes teared up again. John didn't think he would ever get over the overwhelming emotion of seeing his parents again. The shock of the moment shook him, and he held on to the rail to steady himself.

His da joined him and patted his back. John stared at him. He still couldn't believe it, his da.

His da smiled. "Ye did read the story, didn't ye?"

The Fae Fable wasn't about Colin and Bree. Hell, the story wasn't even about John and Marie.

A man who bargained with the Fae to return his dead wife so they could spend time together. Damn, if it wasn't about his ma and da.

Morrigan's words at the portal returned to him in startling clarity. "Blood was already spilt for ye."

His da somehow bargained with the Fae so he stayed with his ma. They spilled his da's blood, was what Morrigan meant.

But what did she mean when she said, "Ye must remember the Fae Fable Story of The Stone of Fear; without it, ye are doomed as yer father?"

He hadn't bargained with the Fae as his da had. How could he make the same mistake?

John nodded. "Aye, it makes some sense now. At first, Colin and I couldn't figure it out."

His father's voice rose as his eyes opened wide. "Colin, what about Ron?"

John sighed. "Died last year in a car accident, Emily, too."

His da bowed his head and nodded. "God rest their souls."

John tapped his fingers on the rail. "Aye, the evil Fae did it."

His da rocked back. "So, they are at it again? The Fae fighting never amounts to anything good. I figured as much when you mentioned Colin had to travel in time."

John's gaze snapped to his da. "This has happened before?"

He laughed. "Before? Try all the time. The battle of good against evil is ongoing. There is no end."

John gazed out across the water.

His da leaned on the railing and clenched his hands before him. "How many stones have ye recovered?"

John shook his head. "Just one, the Stone of Love."

Douglas frowned. "Then we are in for a battle, son."

John sighed as his da tapped his arm. "The good news is, I know where yer Marie is."

John grabbed his da's arm as his da nodded. "Stood out like a fart in church. The man who has her is stupid. He's still wearing modern clothing and has an English accent to boot. I knew he was from the future but wasn't sure what it meant. Now I know."

John breathed deeply. "So she's okay? We thought a Fae possessed him. That happened when Colin traveled back in time for the Stone of Love."

His da shook his head. "No way this lad is possessed. The Fae are smarter than that and better at blending in. Na, he's probably just a fanatic chasing power."

John gaped at him. How did his da know all this, and what exactly had his da done with the Fae, the stones? Many years ago, when his da told him about his duty to protect the rocks, John believed it a myth, the same as Colin. As his father stood beside him, he wondered what all his da knew.

Douglas returned his stare and shrugged. "This isn't my first time dealing with the Fae, and it won't be my last. We'll find yer Marie and the stone. I'll get ye back to yer time. I promise ye that." He hugged John, who held his da a little longer. They stepped back and gazed at each other. His da patted his cheek and strode away.

John stared out over the ocean. Marie, she is okay.

He took a deep breath, then another. He should have seen the Fae coming, should've seen the warning signs. Granny said the Fae played with humans and told him he needed to be aware of what the Fae showed them, catch it, and realize what the sign meant.

He gazed across the water. Darkness met his stare, and his mind returned to when the first sign happened. It occurred the day he and Colin worked with the Medieval broad swords before Colin traveled back to the seventeenth century.

****

John picked up his sword and eyed Colin. "Disarm only, no blood. I recall ye like to draw blood."

Colin smiled widely at his recollection of their practices in their youth. Oh, so this was how it would be. Well, let's see what the lazy solicitor has in him.

They took a ready stance, and soon the clang of metal rang loudly in the yard.

Colin advanced on John, who stepped left and parried right. After John's block, he rebounded and answered with a swing toward Colin's left, forcing Colin to shift to the right to block his left side. The swords locked in fierce tension, and Colin's gaze connected with his.

John smirked back at him. Old man, what do ye have in ye?

Colin returned the expression with a raised eyebrow, and the fight was now on.

Colin broke free and started toward him. Colin swung his attack on each side and pushed John toward the old stable arch ruin. Was Colin's goal to back him into the wall and take advantage of the lack of space John would have? If so, Colin would corner him, disarm him, and win this round. Well, John hadn't sat on his arse all day like Colin and remained ready for a fight.

Swing after swing, Colin worked side to side as he advanced hard on John.

Colin swung right again, then blocked another left advance from John. John rounded on him, struck from overhead, and Colin had to backstep and stop the blow. Colin blocked the blow and slid his sword to the side as John forced his sword off Colin's. Colin didn't pause but struck again to maintain his advance and backed John closer to the archway.

I can't let him best me.

John swung for Colin's legs and forced him to jump to avoid getting hit.

Colin continued his assault that pushed John closer to the wall. The faint voices of women floated over the wall. Colin shifted his attack as he glanced at the archway; that's when John recognized Marie's voice.

"Is that metal?" Why are the women here?

Bree crossed between him and Colin, and Colin was already in a full-force downward swing at John.

John stopped, frozen. His block stuck in place as time slowed. Colin threw all his weight to the side. With a roar, he twisted, threw his blade out of line, and his momentum sent him stumbling. His sword missed her, but his body knocked into her. She hit the stone archway and cried out. Off balance, Colin lurched into the wall as his back scraped against it.

Marie ran into the yard. "Bree!"

Colin rounded on Bree and yelled at the top of his lungs, "Good God, woman, never walk into a sword fight! Ye damn near got yer head taken off!"

Bree crumpled into a ball and covered her head with her hands.

Everyone went still.

Bree shook as she softly cried.

"Oh, God, Bree." Colin touched her shoulder.

As his hand made contact, she screamed, "Please don't hit me. Please don't hit me." She crawled farther down the wall on her hands and knees. She curled into a ball, rocking back and forth as she whimpered.

John took a deep breath as he lowered his sword, and his heart turned cold. Marie mentioned Bree's ex beat her, but he didn't know how bad or the toll it took.

Next to him, Marie cried softly, and he took her in his arms. "Shush, it will be all right." He kissed her head and squeezed her.

Colin stared at Bree as he spoke. "John, come take my sword. Take it away."

Colin stood still. "Ye and Marie head into the castle. Go on; we'll be along soon."

John disengaged himself from Marie, who still tried to grip him. Her crying tore his heart. Carefully, he took the sword from Colin.

John leaned toward Colin. "Ye sure ye want us to go? Maybe we need to stay. Help or something."

Colin shook his head. "No, I've got this."

John gathered the bags and handed them to a sniffling Marie. He picked up the swords, sheathed each, and slipped them over one shoulder. He placed his arm around Marie and guided her toward the castle.

John and Marie rounded the corner. John dropped the swords, sat by the castle's rock foundation, and ran both hands through his hair. He glanced at Marie, and she cried again. He rose and strode to her.

She dropped the bags, launched into his arms, and gripped his shoulder tightly. "Oh God, John. He almost took her head off."

John sat back on the rock and cradled Marie, grateful for her warmth and comfort. He held her tightly for a moment. Her tears soaked through his shirt. He closed his eyes and inhaled—lilies.

From the woman's side, they were blind to the sword work he and Colin did. If Marie walked into the fight, Colin might not have been able to change direction soon enough. God, he might have lost Marie today.

"M'eudail, my darling, God, I don't know what I would've done if ye crossed in Colin's blade." John held her tight as he slid down the rock, sat on the ground, and cradled Marie in his lap. He kept her close, didn't want to let her go. He rested as he rubbed her back as her tears subsided.

Marie glanced into his eyes. "I never knew." She sighed. "…I mean, I never realized how bad Bree's ex was to her. Did ye see her reaction?"

John cupped her cheek. "Aye, I did, and it made my heart cold. I've seen nothing like her fear and the physical reaction."

Marie nodded. "It makes me rethink everything she's told me. Initially, I thought she acted dramatically. Like exaggerating to make a point." She glanced away. "Now I rethink it all. Everything."

Marie shivered, and John gathered her close in his arms. "I don't want ye thinking of such things. Yer thoughts bring them to yer door whether or not ye want them."

Marie gazed into the distance, silent in her reflection.

John tried to read her expression. Had something like this happened to her? John cupped her cheek and turned her face to his.

He swallowed and gazed at her. "Marie, has something like this happened to ye?" He brushed her hair off her face. "I want ye to be honest. I need to know."

Marie's eyes went wide, and she swallowed hard. "No, it hasn't happened to me, but I had a dream." She shook her head. "No, nothing."

John grabbed both her shoulders. "There is no nothing to it. I see something in yer eyes. What is it ye saw?"

Marie stared off toward the loch.

Her voice sounded far away when she spoke, yet she stayed in his arms. "A dream, a dream I had after I arrived at the castle. I remained tied up. In an old boat in the rain." She tried to draw her breath, and it hitched.

John squeezed her.

"A priest stood over me, screaming. He seemed so real." She shook her head. "It's nothing, just a reaction to Bree's situation." She smiled at John and kissed him quickly. "Just stupid imagination. It's nothing."

Nothing echoed in John's mind.

****

"Nothing here, Captain," a man yelled near him.

John blinked and fell out of his memory to the sound of the men loosening the mizzenmast's sails as they called orders to each other. John knew now he should have paid better attention back when his da tried to teach him.

He and Colin realized the Fae were at work, that the evil Fae targeted those close to the stones. People close to those who guarded them, to him and Colin. It was na?ve to think the evil Fae only pursued the MacDougall family. Now he understood, and he wished he would've listened then. John should have protected her and done something to stop the Fae from coming for her.

He glanced back at his da and understood a greater sense of failure. His parents—could their situation be a product of the evil Fae as well? His da seemed at peace with their choices, a dangerous bargain with the Fae for extra time spent with a dead wife.

Marie's kidnapping, the Fae, the stones. Could John have prevented this all from happening? Either way, he must find Marie. For now, he feared her life depended on it.