Page 30 of Time of the Druid (Stones of Scotland #7)

Chapter 30

H ow could she tell Jack about this? There was no way to put it into words. But how could she stay quiet? All the way back to the crannog, Norah agonised over what she should say. Edmondson had vanished as mysteriously as he arrived, disappearing back into the forest. She knew what she needed to do, but the very thought of it twisted her stomach. No matter what lies he’d told, she still loved Matthew. A feeling like that didn’t just go away.

She found Jack in the guesthouse, huddled in the pale light filtering through the smoke hole, the air heavy with the oil and soot of old fires. He was seated on a low stool, cleaning his pistols in slow, methodical movements, the metallic clink of parts sharp in the tense hush. Rain pattered steadily outside, a soft percussion on the thatch, and the walls creaked faintly in the damp. He looked up as Norah entered, the door letting in a gust of wet wind and the scent of sodden earth. Something in her face—pale, tight, unreadable—made his hands still. The glint in his eyes shifted from mild curiosity to wary concern.

“I need to talk to you,” she said, sinking down onto the bed. “It’s about Matthew.”

Jack nodded but said nothing. Norah swallowed hard, wishing there was some way to avoid this conversation.

“I’ve been sleeping with Matthew,” she said, wincing slightly.

Jack laughed.

“Did you think I hadn’t guessed? You two aren’t exactly subtle. I think everyone on the crannog’s worked out what’s going on.”

“That’s not what I need to tell you,” Norah snapped. “For God’s sake, Jack, I’m not here to confess to a secret romance.”

Jack’s face grew serious again.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to make light of the situation. Go on.”

“Edmondson found me,” Norah said.

She didn’t like the blankness that fell across Jack’s face. It wasn’t just the usual stillness she sometimes saw in him, but something deeper—a rigid, haunted expression, as though he’d glimpsed the same horror she now carried inside her. He tried to mask it, lowering his gaze to his hands, but his shoulders remained unnaturally stiff and the flicker in his eyes was unmistakable. Fear, yes—but not just for her. She suspected he was just as afraid as she was. They both knew, in that awful breathless moment, that everything was slipping beyond their control.

“That doesn’t sound promising,” he said.

“Matthew’s been lying to us about this plan,” she said bluntly. “He’s planning to destroy time travel before it ever happens, effectively wiping our entire lives.”

Jack’s eyes went wide.

“No,” he breathed. “He can’t do that. It’s too late.”

Norah shrugged.

“Apparently he can do it. At least, Edmondson thinks so. And, before you ask, everything Edmondson told me tallied with what Matthew’s said—and what he hasn’t said.”

She quickly filled Jack in on Matthew’s secret meetings and the letter. By the time she finished, Jack was shaking his head, sadness on his face.

“This isn’t good,” he said. “Not good at all.”

“So, we’re back to the original plan,” Norah said grimly. “I poison Matthew before it’s too late. We go home. I finally retire.”

“Oh, no,” Jack said, shaking his head more fiercely. “Norah, I’ve seen you with that boy. However much you try to brush it off, you’re in love with him. If you do this, it will destroy you.”

Norah ignored the ache in her heart, though it pulsed with every beat like a wound she couldn’t staunch. Her arms wrapped tightly around her torso, fingers digging into the folds of her cloak as if she could physically hold herself together. She couldn’t meet Jack’s eyes. Her jaw clenched so hard it ached, and her stomach turned in slow, sick loops. It didn’t matter if Jack was right. Nothing mattered but completing the mission. Her throat burned, her limbs felt heavy with dread, but she forced the thoughts down, locking them tight. Besides, heartbreak healed. In time, she would be fine. She had to be.

“I have to do this,” she told him. “Edmondson has a magical hold on my life. If I fail him, he’ll kill me in a second.”

Jack’s look of horror told her that he’d never even guessed this.

“So you can’t run away?” he asked. “Can’t hide? Norah, are you seriously telling me there’s no way out of this?”

Norah shook her head. Worryingly, she felt tears prickling in her eyes for the first time in years. She could not crumble now. Not when she’d been so strong for so long.

“Then you can’t be the one to kill him,” Jack said firmly. “Norah, don’t do that to yourself. I’ll shoot him in the back of the head, we call it done, Edmondson lets you go. No blood on your hands.”

Now Norah did feel a tear trickle from her eye. Jack had known Matthew since the early days, since Matthew was a tiny little boy. How could he offer to do something like that?

“We got ourselves into a terrible mess, didn’t we?” she asked softly.

Jack heaved a deep sigh, staring down at his hands.

“I’ve been in too deep for too long,” he said, his own voice just as soft. “I don’t even know what the light looks like anymore.”

“I have to do this,” Norah said, no longer sure if she was trying to convince him or herself. “Not just so that I survive, although God knows I want to survive. But because Matthew’s plan will ruin so much for so many people. Maybe Edmondson is evil, but I think he’s a necessary evil, and I can’t let Matthew undo everything he’s done.”

“I understand that,” Jack said. “But Norah, you can’t do this to yourself. Perhaps?—”

A knock on the door startled them into silence. Norah stared at the closed door in horror. Had Matthew heard them?

It was Jack who opened the door—just a crack at first, his gun in his hand. Norah could tell from the sudden smile that blazed across his face that it was not Matthew outside. As the door opened even wider, she saw a flash of golden hair and the soft smile of Jack’s lady friend.

“Sorry, Norah,” Jack said, casting her an apologetic glance over his shoulder. “We’ll talk about this more, but right now I promised Bethan I’d take her for a walk.”

Norah forced a smile, or at least the ghost of one.

“That’s fine,” she said. “We’ll talk later.”

But, deep down, she knew that she’d said everything she could. The conversation was over, and so was the illusion that this could end any other way. Her body felt leaden as she leaned forward, elbows on her knees, her head bowing under the weight of the decision she had made. Her throat burned, her fingers trembled. She clenched them into fists and pressed them hard into her thighs, willing the shaking to stop. A jagged shard of pain drove through her chest at the thought of Matthew’s face—his laugh, his touch, the way he looked at her like she was the centre of his world. She pressed her palms to her eyes until her vision bloomed red behind her eyelids.

And still, the truth remained.

Matthew had to die—and she had to be the one to kill him.