Page 1 of Time of the Druid (Stones of Scotland #7)

Chapter 1

I t shouldn’t be possible for time travel work to be boring, but Norah found herself slumped over the desk and staring up at the clock on the wall, counting each tick of the second hand. Time dragged on, each second coming a little slower than the one before—or so it seemed, when Norah was desperate for her shift to be over.

After years of working her way up to become one of the most senior travellers at the Edmondson time travel lab, it stung to be limited to desk work.

Desk work. Who did they think she was? Norah had traveled over thousands of years and tangled with some of the most dangerous people in history. Damn it, she was one of the most dangerous people in history. And yet here she was, staring at a ticking clock in what had to be the most boring office in Scotland. She hadn’t even seen a single person in over an hour.

How long would it be? How long before they found her another mission? Norah exhaled sharply through her nose and dragged her hands down her face, then shoved her chair back and stood abruptly, pacing a short circuit around the desk before dropping back into the seat. Most of the best trips had dried up since Professor Edmondson went missing almost a year earlier. But there were still a few missions opening up from time to time—routine maintenance, supporting their interests in different time periods. Norah couldn’t wait for her next assignment. Three months in the twenty-first century was far too long.

“Good evening, Norah,” someone said behind her.

Norah whirled around, not daring to believe the evidence of her ears—and then not sure if she could trust the evidence of her eyes, either.

“Professor Edmondson?” she asked incredulously.

He smiled that familiar, thin-lipped smile. He actually looked healthier than when Norah had seen him last, with a little more colour to his lined cheeks. It seemed that, wherever he’d been for the past few months, it had agreed with him.

“I have a mission for you,” he said, stepping behind the desk to stand beside her as if nothing had happened.

Norah fought back the hundred or so questions that rushed into her mind. Professor Edmondson didn’t like questions. If he wanted her to know something, he would tell her. Most of the time, he kept all the information to himself.

“A mission,” she said. Her heart began to race. Yes, she’d wanted a mission, but not one from him . Not one of his special missions. They always ended in blood and death. Norah’s hands were bloodstained enough as it was—she didn’t want any more.

“Your special skills are required,” Edmondson said, confirming her fears. “You may have wondered where I have been, however much time has passed here.”

So, he hadn’t even visited the twenty-first century, if he’d lost track of time that much. In all honesty, they’d begun to wonder if he was dead. But Norah didn’t say any of that. She just nodded and held her tongue, bracing herself for whatever horrors were about to come.

“I was held captive in the Roman period,” he explained, his voice as casual as if he were discussing the weather. “I need you to find the man who held me prisoner and dispose of him.”

Norah blinked hard. This did not sound good.

“If you’ll pardon me saying,” she said carefully. “Anyone who could hold you prisoner for that long must be difficult to… dispose of.”

“It will be a challenge,” Edmondson said, smiling that thin smile again. “But you are the best at what you do, Norah. I have every faith in you.”

Norah drew a deep breath. It was now or never.

“Professor, I don’t want to stay in this line of work forever,” she said. Damn it, that was hardly a direct refusal. Why could she never stand up to him?

“I understand,” he said smoothly. “This will be the most difficult thing I have ever asked of you. But succeed in this mission, Norah, and you will be free.”

Free .

Norah’s ears rang with the sound of that word. Free .

“You would give me my life back?” she breathed.

Edmondson nodded.

“The moment this man is dead, your life will be yours again. Of course, this will be a very dangerous mission. You may choose to let someone else accept it.”

The thought of controlling her own life made her dizzy. Her breath caught in her throat, the promise of freedom curling through her like sunlight through mist—intoxicating, dazzling, and entirely too good to be true.

Norah almost shouted out her agreement, desperate for the taste of freedom again, but she fought to keep herself calm, forcing her hands to stay still in her lap instead of clenching into fists. This was Edmondson. There was always another game with him, always another trap hidden in the fine print. He would offer her freedom with one hand and shackle her tighter with the other. A mission like this, one cloaked in blood and vengeance, couldn’t possibly end cleanly. And yet, the possibility of escape called to her with a voice she couldn’t ignore.

“Who is the man?” she asked. “You said the Roman period?”

“He is a druid,” the Professor said, frowning. “Or, at least, he is training to become one. But you will not find him in the Roman period any more. He has gone further back, into the depths of the Iron Age.”

“Oh, we can’t go that far back,” Norah said automatically. It was true—the time travel machines had never succeeded in reaching a period earlier than the Roman occupation of Britain. Norah didn’t even know if time travel existed that far back.

“You will be able to find him,” Edmondson said confidently. He reached into his pocket and produced a small golden object. “When you reach the correct date, this compass will lead you to him.”

“But can the machines get me there?” Norah asked, clutching at straws. A druid ? That sounded like powerful magic. And she would be a long way from home—and from help. If something went wrong, she would be on her own.

“You will get there,” Edmondson said, a sharp edge to his voice. “Unless you think it’s too dangerous for the price?”

Norah shook her head immediately, not out of confidence, but because the choice had already settled in her bones. Of course it would be dangerous—possibly fatal. But the promise of freedom, of living without the weight of Edmondson's hand on her shoulder, was worth any risk. Even if it killed her, at least she would have died chasing the chance to be her own.

“No, I’ll do it,” she said. “As long as I have your word that I will be free once this man is dead.”

“I promise it,” Edmondson said. For once, Norah saw the intensity of a promise in his cold gaze. In this, she could trust him to keep his word.

She nodded slowly.

“Very well, then,” she said. “I will dispose of him for you. Then you will give me the stone.”

The tiny little stone that, Edmondson claimed, held her life bound to it. She hadn’t believed him, at first. But then she’d watched him bind a dog to another stone and crush its life away. As the stone crumbled, the dog collapsed—dead. Even after all the death she’d seen, that one still haunted Norah. She wouldn’t take the risk that he was bluffing when it came to her own stone. As always, her life belonged to Edmondson. She couldn’t disobey him if she wanted to, and he knew it.

“Kill him, and the stone will be yours,” he promised, his voice low and clipped. His eyes bored into hers, unblinking, as if daring her to flinch. He leaned forward slightly, the tendons in his neck taut, one hand curling into a fist at his side while the other tapped a precise rhythm against the desk. “You already know not to fail me.”