Faelan looked around the room. “Is it safe to speak of such things?”

“We’re all family. Bound by blood and oath, and Bree brought you to us, so I think that makes it acceptable for her to be here.”

Family. Not Tavis, Ian, Alana, or his parents, but born of them, carrying their blood. He wasn’t completely lost.

“We all knew the legend,” Sean said, “but most believed it a myth, like dragons and such, but I heard stories from my father and my grandfather when I was a wee lad, when they thought I was fast asleep. Your brothers, they went to help you.” He paused, and not a sound could be heard in the room. “And they found you.”

Faelan’s breath felt like a gust of wind trying to squeeze through a hole too small. “My brothers found the time vault? They came?”

“Aye. A storm had delayed them. The Seeker who traveled with them found the time vault, but it was buried in a field. They didn’t know if you were alive or dead. They had to hide you, but the time vault couldn’t be moved far. My grandfather spoke of a graveyard nearby and how Tavis secured an empty crypt from a man named Belville.”

“Belville? That was my great-great-grandfather’s last name,” Bree said, her face flushed from her wine.

“Frederick Belville?”

“Yes.”

“Blimey. Then you must be Emily’s granddaughter.”

“You knew my grandmother?”

“Met her once. Last year Coira and I went to look for the key. The time vault was ready to be opened, and the Council was anxious. We suspected Druan had something planned, but without the key there was no way to bring Faelan and his talisman back. Your grandmother invited us to stay, but Coira got ill, and we had to leave. To think we were so close to the key.” Earlier, Bree had told them about finding it on the mantel. “No use fretting about it now. Things usually work out as they’re meant to. How is your grandmother?”

“She died a few months ago. Cancer.”

“I’m sorry lass. I am. She was a kind soul.”

“Did she know why you were there?” Bree asked.

“No. We couldn’t share that.”

“If my brothers put me in the crypt, then they didn’t battle Druan.”

“No.” Sean paused. “They didn’t battle Druan. But they couldn’t find the key. Tavis captured one of the demon’s minions, and he told them who’d held the key that night. They found the halfling, but he said he lost it when he left the place. He was hoping Druan would forget about it over the years. He offered to show them the trail if they wouldn’t tell Druan he lost it. They agreed, but the key couldn’t be found. It had vanished. Even the Seeker couldn’t find it. Your brothers didn’t know about the virus—that’s what Druan had created—until they ran into one of the other warriors who’d gotten your message. Your brothers used their wits. They couldn’t destroy Druan or his virus, since your talisman was locked in the time vault, but they did the next best thing. They decided to kill the demon’s sorcerer, hoping the virus would be ruined. They claimed a stranger came forward and told them where to find the sorcerer. They killed him right under the demon’s nose.”

“Brilliant,” Bree said, looking a bit glassy-eyed though her wine glass was still full. “Who was the stranger?”

“They never knew. He disappeared. According to my grandfather, Tavis and Ian figured it’d take Druan another century or two to make another virus, and by then you’d be awake. Your brothers made a map of where you lay, so when the time came, you’d be found.” Sean walked to the cabinet where Faelan’s father had kept his important papers. He took out a key and opened a small drawer, pulled out a thin box, and set it on a table. Opening it, he lifted out a piece of paper and placed it in Faelan’s hand.

Faelan could feel the heat of bodies crowding close. The paper was old, thick, with shapes like rectangles and squares. The graveyard. His brothers had come. They hadn’t faced the demons of old. They’d tried to save him. The brothers he’d always protected had taken care of him and made sure he wouldn’t be lost forever.

His brothers had saved the world when he failed.

“Your brothers made the map,” Bree said, her voice awed. “It’s like the one I found. Except it’s dated last year.”

“The clan sent many warriors and Seekers over the decades, but this past year the search has been a fair frenzy.”

“McGowan,” Bree blurted out. “Was he a Seeker?”

“How do you know about McGowan?” Sorcha and Sean asked in unison, staring at Bree as if she’d shifted into a demon.

“I found a journal.”

“McGowan left a journal?” Sorcha asked, shocked, her seductress side nowhere in sight.

“No, my great-great-grandmother’s journal. She said McGowan visited. She thought he was searching for treasure.”

“Indeed,” Sean said. “McGowan and others were sent.”

“All those lost campers,” Bree said.

“McGowan and another man were murdered,” Faelan said. “Druan must’ve killed them.”

“He did,” Sorcha said. “Druan will not only face you, he’ll answer to me.”

A woman against a demon? Faelan wisely kept his mouth shut. “You were related to McGowan?”

Sorcha gave him a peculiar look, but he paid no attention. She’d given him a lot of peculiar looks since she’d arrived. “No, but the man with him was my great-great-grandfather. Quinn Douglass.”

“Why did they send the Keeper of the Book to look for a key?” Faelan asked, surprised.

“He didn’t go for the key. He went for the Book of Battles, at least we think that’s why he was there,” Sean said. Another look passed between him and Sorcha.

“I, for one,” Sorcha said, staring at Faelan, “would give my sword arm to know why you stole it.”



Chapter 23


“You think I stole the Book of Battles?” Faelan asked, appalled.

“Now Sorcha, stole is a harsh word.” Sean’s blunted fingers knotted in his lap. “The stories say it disappeared around the time you went to America.”

“Why would I take it? Warriors weren’t even allowed to see the book then, much less touch it.”

“They still aren’t, but the clan figured you had a reason,” Sean said. “It’s caused a bit of worry over the decades, not knowing if it was locked inside the time vault with you or if a demon had stolen it. Since it never turned up, they assumed it was with you. The Seeker couldn’t tell if it was there.”

“I’d never even seen the book until now.”

“Until now? So you do have it?” Sorcha asked.

“Bree found it in her attic. It’s safely hidden, but I didn’t steal it.” He would’ve brought it, but he hadn’t been certain of his welcome, and it was too valuable to be dragged across the sky in a metal bird that could crash and burn.

“It’s safe. Thank God.” Sean’s shoulders slumped. “That’s one less thing to fret about.”

“But if Faelan didn’t take it, who did?” Duncan asked. “And how did it end up halfway around the world?”

“Would Quinn have taken the book?” Sean asked of no one in particular. “The clan always assumed he went to find it.”

Sorcha looked affronted. “Why would he do that?”

“Because he was charged with keeping it safe,” Faelan told them. “Michael warned me the book was in danger before I left for America. I told Quinn, and he said he’d move the book.”

“But why take it to America?” Sorcha asked.

“Faelan’s brothers were going there anyway, to meet him. Perhaps Quinn thought it was best away from Scotland,” Sean said.

“Wouldn’t he have informed the Council?” Duncan asked.

“Not if he didn’t know where the threat came from,” Faelan said.

“You think the danger came from inside the clan?” Sorcha asked.

“I don’t know, but some of the pages are missing.”

Sean gripped the arms of his chair. “Which ones?”

Faelan hated to tell them, because they would know he’d looked inside. “Near the end. I didn’t read the book, just checked to see that it wasn’t damaged.”

“Ah, those. Don’t fret. They’ve been missing for centuries, according to the Keepers. No one even remembers what they were. It’s our clan mystery.”

“A clan mystery,” Bree said in awe.

“At least you have the book,” Sean said. “Most of the knowledge has been passed down orally, but there’s no measuring the damage exposing those names could do.”

“You’re the Keeper of the Book,” Bree blurted.

“I am,” Sean said. “Not that there’s a book to keep, since it disappeared. The Keepers have tried to put together as much information as they could from other documents.” Each clan had its own book. Every half a millennium, a new one was given.

“Since Michael warned Faelan the book was in danger, it would make sense that Druan was involved,” Tomas said.

“That was my thought,” Faelan said. “Druan could have stolen it.”

“Quinn was probably tracking it,” Sorcha said.

“Who’s Michael?” Bree asked.

“He’s a warrior,” Faelan said.

Sorcha toyed with the hilt of her sgian dubh, and Faelan wondered why she carried it. “Before you put Druan in the time vault,” she said to Faelan, “I want a piece of him. He’ll pay for my great-great-grandfather’s life.”

“That’s suicide. You may be a warrior,” Duncan said, “but Faelan is the only one who can touch Druan.”

Faelan had grown adept at hiding emotions, but his mouth dropped. “You’re a warrior?”

“Times have changed while you slumbered,” Sorcha said. “We have many female warriors and Watchers.”

Faelan closed his mouth. Had the world gone mad? What next? Would they send children into battle?

“But some don’t know when to back off,” Duncan muttered.

“And some don’t know when to mind their own business,” Sorcha fired back.

It seemed Bree’s penchant for boldness wasn’t unique. “In my day, women were to be cherished and protected,” Faelan said.

“You can protect our backs while we fight alongside you and cherish us when we defeat the enemy.”

Damnation. What had happened to the sane world he’d left behind where women minded hearth and home?

“So women can be warriors and Watchers now?” Bree asked with a smug look.

Like a female warrior wasn’t ludicrous enough.

“Aye, but only one or the other. Never both,” Sean said.

“Isn’t Sorcha a Watcher?” Bree asked. “She has dreams.”

“Warriors often have dreams as well.”

“Would Angus have brought a time vault?” Faelan asked. “I found one in the cellar of the chapel next to the graveyard.”

Bree choked on her wine. “My chapel? There’s a time vault in my chapel? And you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t want—”

“I know. You didn’t want to worry me. There are demons running around my backyard trying to kill me. After all that’s happened, I can’t believe you would keep this from me. It’s my chapel.” Her eyes were sharp as dirks, making him long for the days when the women would’ve been in the kitchen cooking. “Wait. The chapel doesn’t have a cellar.”

“Aye, it does. The steps were behind the wall that collapsed.”

“I have a hidden cellar?” Her eyes sparkled with excitement, momentarily dousing her anger.

“The wall that hid the entrance was old, but I figured there might be another way into the cellar, something a warrior could’ve used recently.”

“I don’t think so,” Bree said. “But I didn’t know about the hidden door, either. Grandma never mentioned it. Isabel did say something in the journal about someone hiding slaves. I wonder if someone was using the cellar as part of the Underground Railroad.”

“If so, there could be a tunnel. Would your mother know?” Faelan asked.

“I’ll check with her.”

“A warrior from Canada was supposed to arrive a few days ago to help Sorcha and Angus,” Sean said, “but we haven’t heard from him yet. I suppose he or Angus could have brought a time vault and hid it after the wall collapsed.”

“Is this Austin the one who helped Sorcha last year?” Duncan asked, frowning.

Sorcha bristled. “Stop acting like a Neanderthal, cousin. You’re not my bloody bodyguard.”

Duncan cursed and stormed out, letting the door slam behind him. A few in the room chuckled, but most paid no attention.

Faelan hid a grin and wondered if Tavis had also risen from his grave.

“I think Angus would have told us if he needed a time vault,” Sean mused. “Same for Austin.”

“If Druan’s been reassigned, another warrior could have brought it for him.”

Sean shook his head. “I think we would have heard if an ancient demon had been assigned. Was there a key to this time vault?”

“No key. And no sign of another warrior.” Could it be the archeologist? How long had Bree known him?

“Maybe the time vault was for Tristol, Malek, or Voltar,” Bree said.