Page 31 of Time of the Warlord (Stones of Scotland #5)

T he return trip through time was even harder than the first. Ciaran came very close to casting up the contents of his stomach, and he was forced to clutch at a nearby stone to keep him upright.

“Sorry about that,” Bethany said, sounding far too cheerful. “I think I was a bit too rushed.”

Ciaran looked up at her, and her expression immediately fell.

“I’m sorry, Ciaran,” she said softly. “I know how much she meant to you.”

“I never got to tell her,” Ciaran said, his throat feeling wooden and clumsy. “I never told her that I loved her.”

Bethany laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Let’s go home.”

Ciaran looked around and realized, to his surprise, that they were no longer in the place they’d been just a moment ago. Instead, they were back at the stone circle near Dunadd. He looked at Bethany with even greater respect. She seemed rather talented at this time-travel business.

Still, the walk back to Dunadd was long enough. The two of them trudged heavily through the undergrowth, each step a little harder than the one before. There was no sign of Norah and the guards, and Ciaran mentioned that to Bethany. She seemed unconcerned.

“Time passes differently here,” she told him. “They might have arrived back hours ago, or even days.”

They reached the road at last, and set off up the hill to Dunadd. Ciaran had never wished so much that he had a horse - or a powerful beast like the one Sadie had driven. He tried to push away all thoughts of Sadie, but it was no good. He couldn’t possibly forget her.

Dust rose up from the road ahead of them as a group of horsemen crested the hill. Ciaran tensed and reached for his sword, but Bethany laughed.

“I think it’s Comgall,” she said.

As the riders drew closer, Ciaran saw that she was right. The king himself sat atop the leading horse, his gaze focused on his wife. Without a single word, he jumped down from his horse and ran the last distance towards them until he could sweep Bethany into his arms. Ciaran looked awkwardly away as the king and queen greeted each other.

“The guardsmen returned last night,” Comgall explained. “I’ve been frantic with worry, wondering when you’d reappear.”

“Did Norah return as well?” Ciaran asked.

Ominously, Comgall frowned.

“We have to discuss that,” he said grimly. “Something rather strange has happened.”

Bethany took the king’s horse, while Ciaran and Comgall walked alongside her.

“No doubt you’ll want to interview them yourselves,” Comgall said. “But the guards claim that Norah simply never made it back with them. They all landed in the stone circle, and she was nowhere to be found.”

Bethany gasped.

“But they all left together!” she insisted. “There were two guardsmen in front of her, and two behind. How could she have gone missing?”

“I don’t know,” Comgall said. “But I don’t like it.” He hesitated.

Bethany sighed and reached to stroke his hair.

“Matthew is still missing, isn’t he,” she said.

Comgall nodded, and Ciaran felt his own heart break a little. He’d failed his king - and, perhaps even worse, he’d failed Matthew. He hadn’t seen how unhappy and afraid the boy was.

“In truth, I hoped we would find him at Edmondson’s lab,” Bethany said, her voice wobbling slightly. “But there was no trace of him. I really don’t know where he’s gone.”

“Do you think those time travelers have him?” Ciaran asked, afraid to even say such things.

Bethany shook her head slowly.

“No, I think he’s smart enough to evade them. I just wish I knew where he was! He’s too young to run off on his own like this.”

Ciaran could only agree. Matthew was a smart boy, but he was still just a boy. Who would take care of him?

At Dunadd’s gates, they were greeted like returning heroes, with cheers and handfuls of flower petals. Bethany smiled and greeted her people, but Ciaran kept his face stern. He couldn’t really see much to be happy about. Norah and Matthew were missing somewhere in the mists of time, Sadie had rejected him, and he’d failed his king. Very little to cheer about, all in all.

“Ciaran, there’s something else,” Comgall said quietly. “That man, the prisoner from the cottage? He’s conscious again, and I think you’ll want to talk to him.”

Of course! The injured man from the cottage. Ciaran had almost completely forgotten about him.

“Has he said anything?”

Comgall shook his head.

“Not yet. But I’m sure he will.”

Ciaran nodded. He was just as sure.

“Where’s Norah?” he growled, bursting into the small, quiet room in the healer’s quarter. To his credit, the man barely flinched.

“I’ve no idea,” he said. “I’ve been here the whole time.”

“That doesn’t mean you know nothing,” Ciaran pointed out. “What was the plan.”

The man hesitated. Ciaran stalked nearer, feeling a flash of triumph.

“There was a plan,” he said. “Tell me.”

“I was planning to help her,” the man admitted, his words stunning Ciaran into silence. “I’ve had enough of this game. I tried to get out once before, and found myself dragged straight back into everything. But enough is enough. I won’t hurt innocent people any more.”

“You were planning to betray your colleagues?” Ciaran asked, not sure whether to feel impressed or horrified.

The man raised his chin proudly.

“I was indeed,” he said. “Henry used to be a decent enough man, but he’s changed. All he wants is money and power.”

Ciaran shook his head. Too many men were like that. A hint of greed could quickly spiral out of control.

“But you don’t know where Norah is?”

The man looked genuine as he shook his head.

“It makes no sense to me, either. I don’t see how anyone could be snatched away like that.”

Ciaran cursed softly and left the man to his rest. If he was telling the truth - and it seemed like he was - then there was no knowing where Norah might be. Had she somehow returned to her own time? Ciaran wanted to believe that, wanted to think the two sisters were reunited and safe. But he could not quite shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong.