Page 18 of Time of the Druid (Stones of Scotland #7)
Chapter 18
F inding a private spot on the lakeshore wasn’t easy, but the crannog definitely wasn’t suitable—not with watchful guards and curious villagers always underfoot. Matthew had done his best to find somewhere tucked out of sight both from the cluster of buildings and the road that snaked past the lake. The dense woods offered little cover near the water, and much of the shoreline was marshy or too exposed. He wandered for hours, doubling back more than once, scanning the terrain with growing frustration.
Eventually, he stumbled upon a narrow path half-obscured by brambles, which led to a hidden cove bordered by an outcropping of lichen-streaked rock that jutted out protectively into the lake. A stand of twisted pine trees screened the beach from above, and the steep slope behind it made it almost impossible to spot unless you were standing right at the edge. The beach itself was no more than a crescent of dark pebbles and coarse sand, with enough flat space for training—or talking. The waves lapped gently at the shore, and the hush of the water offered a surprising sense of peace. Matthew crouched to brush his fingers through the gravel, satisfying himself it was solid enough to stand on. He’d had to search all afternoon to find this place, but the effort was worth it. It was as private a spot as they could hope for.
Leading Norah and Jack out there after breakfast the following day, Matthew felt pretty pleased with himself. This would be the perfect place for them to plan—and train.
"So, I’d like to get an idea of what you’re both capable of," he said, turning around on the sand to face the two of them. "I know I’ve seen you in action before, but it was a long time ago. Longer for me than for you."
Jack shrugged. "I’m good with a gun," he said, a weapon appearing in each hand almost as if by magic. "And I’ve given Norah at least the basics in terms of training. She’ll be able to help."
Matthew nodded. That would be helpful—the druids didn’t know about guns, so they wouldn’t be sure what to expect.
"Want to demonstrate?" he asked.
Jack happily shot a few leaves off the trees above their heads, but Norah shook her head when she was offered one of the pistols.
"Guns aren’t really my strong suit," she said, sounding a little strained. "I’m not sure how much use I’ll be. Maybe I should stay behind."
"You’re a damn good shot, Norah, and you know it," Jack said, sounding annoyed. "You just need to practice more."
Norah shrugged, and Matthew decided not to push the issue.
"How about hand-to-hand combat?" he asked. "The druids will try to avoid it at all costs, but it’s best to be prepared."
"I carry a knife," Norah said. Something strange flashed in her eyes, almost a challenge. "Do you want me to show you?"
For a second, Matthew considered it. He imagined the two of them circling one another in the sand, eyes locked, tension simmering just beneath the surface. He pictured her darting forward, swift and sharp, forcing him to react—to counter, to block, to catch her wrist. He imagined the way her weight might shift as she twisted, the surprise in her breath if he managed to take her down. Not out of aggression, but something else entirely. Something that made the air between them feel dangerously thin. He blinked, pulse quickening.
"No, that’s fine," he said quickly, clearing his throat. "I believe you."
"What about you, Matthew?" Jack asked, conveniently changing the subject. "What’s your magic good for, other than traveling through time?"
Matthew sighed, thinking of the incredible skills he’d seen druids exhibit in different times and places. Plants crushing men to death, lightning hitting a target the size of a man’s palm, boulders falling from the sky... In skilled hands, magic could achieve incredible things.
"I’m mostly good at time travel," he admitted. "I have a lot of strength, but it’s difficult to channel."
Jack frowned.
"No offence, but that won’t get us very far. Do you have anything more... practical?"
"We’ll need my magic once we reach the stones," Matthew said, trying not to sound defensive. "But yes, I do, as a matter of fact. How about this?"
He flicked his fingers, sending a rope of glowing magic soaring through the air. It wrapped around Jack’s wrist, holding him in place. Jack tugged against the rope, looking reluctantly impressed.
"Anything else?"
Matthew spent the next few moments showing off a bit, letting the magic build under his skin and race down his arms. He lit fires with a flick of his fingers, weaving flame into shapes that danced and twisted before flaring into nothing. He summoned a net of fire that shimmered gold and orange in the air, then collapsed it into a neat coil that vanished into smoke. He grinned as he heated the sand beneath Jack’s boots, making the big man curse and hop away.
Fire was Matthew’s strength—it always had been. There was a freedom to it, a recklessness that suited him. It felt good to stretch his power again, to let it curl through his muscles like something half-wild.
But even as he worked, even as he focused on shaping his magic into dazzling displays, his eyes kept slipping back to Norah. He watched the way she stood, arms crossed, hair catching the sunlight like copper threads. He watched the faint furrow between her brows as she followed the magic, alert and calculating. He told himself it was caution, that he was just reading her reactions.
It wasn’t. Not even close.
"Well, that’s about it," he said at last, letting the fire in his hands fade to nothing.
"Will it work against the druids?" Norah asked, speaking for the first time in a while. "Seeing as they have magic as well."
"It won’t work as well on other druids with fire magic," Matthew admitted. "That’s why they failed to hold me captive on the night we escaped. But it should work well enough on the others, and I know how their magic works. That gives us an edge."
Norah nodded slowly.
"I suppose our main aim is to get in and out stealthily, rather than get into a fight," she said.
Matthew nodded. Getting out wasn’t the aim, but she didn’t need to know that.
"That’s why I think you’ll be good at this, Norah," Jack said. "You’re the sneaky one. I’m not. The two of you should work on it."
Was Jack trying to push them together? Matthew glanced sideways at him.
"We can think about that," he said. "But right now, we should use this time to practice."
Jack nodded, as if that had been his thought all along.
"I’ll check that everything’s still in fine working order," he said, brandishing his guns. "Why don’t you two try those ropes again? Maybe Norah’ll figure out how to wriggle out of them."
With that, he wandered over to a rock near the water and sat down, facing away. Matthew turned to Norah.
"It’s not a bad idea," he said. "If you’re up for it."
Norah shrugged. "Go for it."
She winced as the first rope hit, and Matthew tried to hold back a bit. Practising restraint would help him avoid magical burnout. But with Norah so close, it was hard to focus.
He sent out twin ropes, one from each hand. One struck her on the shoulder. She gasped—a soft, breathy sound of surprise—and it hit him like a punch to the chest. His second rope lost aim, veering wide before catching her arm and yanking her toward him.
She stumbled. Momentum carried her straight into his body.
Matthew caught her without thinking. She hit his chest with both hands, her breath knocked out in a soft huff, her face suddenly close enough to feel the warmth of her skin, to see the stunned rise of colour in her cheeks.
Her eyes locked on his, startled and vivid. He could feel her heartbeat through the thin fabric of her tunic. Every brush of contact lit his nerves like kindling.
His hand skimmed her back, holding her too long. He couldn’t help it. For a suspended heartbeat, he let himself feel it—the weight of her against him, the shape of what this might be if things were different.
Then he shoved her back. Too fast. Too hard.
Like she was fire, and he couldn’t afford to burn.
Focus , Matthew. You’re too close now. Don’t let her be the reason you lose everything.