“How is that possible?” the prince asked with frustration. “Unless…” His face showed his concern.
“We can’t assume the worst. Not yet,” Munro said. “Rory had an idea, and I think we should give it a shot.”
Rory stepped forward. “The guys and I are always messing about with our talismans, right?” When no one answered, he pressed on. “So, we talked on the way down. We’re all water druids, except Munro, of course. That’s not going to be much help, but we can sort of link. I don’t know how to explain it. The effect isn’t much, but maybe we can clear things out.”
“Here,” Aaron said, pulling a small wooden ship out of his pocket. “Let’s just show them.” The four water druids stood facing each other, all holding a talisman of wood.
Eilidh watched, fascinated. She and Munro had practised their connection with each other, but it never occurred to either of them that druids could unite without a faerie. As the four concentrated, she sensed a ripple in the astral plane. “By faith,” she swore quietly. It grieved her how much druidic lore was lost because of her people’s fear of humans. “Do you see it?” she asked Munro and Griogair.
“No,” they both said at the same time.
She went to the druids and guided them each backward, touching their minds briefly to help solidify their concentration. As they stepped away from each other, the ripple grew. Eilidh had an idea. She motioned to Griogair. “Come stand in the centre.”
He entered the circle and stood close to where Trath had appeared.
“What does the earth tell you now?” she asked as she continued to guide the druids further apart, until they were standing at the furthest corners of the fenced-in garden.
He breathed in deeply, then his eyes snapped up. “The earth tells me he is here. Right here.” He pointed to the exact location where she’d seen Trath before.
Eilidh closed her eyes and again tapped into the astral flows. “Think of him. Give me his essence,” she said to Griogair. He seemed not to understand at first, but he let down his defences and relaxed, letting her guide his thoughts until he focused completely on his son.
Then a shimmer appeared. The shimmer turned to a form, although it was indistinct. An echo sounded. “Time?” a voice said distantly, as though speaking to someone they couldn’t see. “It’s all I’ve got.”
“Trath!” Griogair shouted. “Son, where are you?”
The figure turned toward his father, and he smiled sadly. It was him. Eilidh could feel his presence clearly, but it faded in and out.
Griogair stepped forward, but Trath seemed to dissolve before their eyes. “No!” his father shouted.
“Eilidh,” Munro said, jogging over to her. “Use me. Take my strength.”
Waving Munro off, she concentrated on Trath, his mind, his thought patterns. This wasn’t going to require Munro’s earth powers, but rather her own astral training. With all of her abilities, she called to Trath’s awareness and made a connection. Elated, she fought to communicate with him. Words failed her in this state, where thought and abstraction held so much more power. “The star,” she said to Griogair. She feared her communication was disjointed, but she had to work to hold this together. If she slipped, she knew they’d lose Trath.
Griogair took the star out of his pouch and let it hover.
“Send it higher,” Munro said.
Griogair obeyed, and the star lifted above their heads.
Eilidh reached for Munro’s hand. “Touch your power to the star.”
He reached toward the star as though caressing the air. She knew the instant he’d accomplished the connection. Through him, she could access the well of power within it, and through Griogair’s mental image of his son’s essence, she could create a beacon. Sending her voice through it, she whispered, “Trath. Your father needs you.” Using images and abstractions, she poured everything she had witnessed Griogair going through to find his son, the fear, the need, the unashamed emotion.
Trath returned, his eyes focused upward on the blazing blue star. Eilidh was so connected to both of their emotions that she had to fight back tears.
Griogair reached out for his son, and the instant their hands touched, Trath became solid and collapsed into his father’s embrace.
A loud explosion sounded a few feet away, and everyone spun toward the house. A startled human woman in a housecoat stood in the darkness. A man, also in pyjamas, held the barrel of her shotgun as though he’d just redirected it into the air.
The woman looked dazed. “Who are you people?” She turned and blinked at the man in the doorway behind her.
Munro stepped forward, retrieved his ID card from his wallet, then showed it to her. “PC Munro, madam. Tayside Police. We got a call about a disturbance.” He pulled out his mobile and dialled Sergeant Hallward. “I’m with Sarah and Hamish McBride. I could use some backup.” He paused. “Everyone seems to be fine.”
He turned to Eilidh and said quietly, “I’ll stay and take care of this. You get them out of here before someone notices Griogair and Trath aren’t from around here.”
The human couple stared upward at the floating blue star that lit their back garden. Their mouths were agape, and they leaned into one another for support. Eilidh signalled for Griogair to lower the star, and she motioned for the four druids to follow. They helped spirit Trath over the fence, and they slipped quietly into the night, leaving Munro behind.
Police swarmed the neighbourhood, checking in with each of the houses that had reported disappearances, while trying to keep reporters at bay. It was tightly controlled chaos. Munro did his best to stay in the shadows. He waited for Sergeant Hallward to come have a word with him. He had no idea how the police media office would explain the reappearances. It was probably going to turn into one of those Unexplained Mystery documentaries on the Discovery Channel. And no conspiracy theory would be as strange as the truth.
He felt Eilidh’s progress back to Skye, and he worried that she might encounter the
rafta
. He’d have to remember to tell Hallward to be on the lookout, but he also knew even faerie assassins would stay away from a loud, busy group of humans like the ones here now. Safety in numbers.
After an hour or so, Hallward sought him out, striding with that authoritative walk, like always. “Munro,” he said as he approached. He leaned with his back against a tree, and he breathed in the night air. After a moment, he looked up. “Jesus,” he muttered. “What a clusterfuck.” He motioned to the end of the street where several officers were keeping the press back. At least one helicopter hovered over the village. “Start at the beginning.”
Trying not to spend too much time framing the story to sound less crazy, Munro detailed as much as he could about what had happened. In the end, it was an inexperienced kid messing around with time. Just a magical accident, he explained.
Hallward didn’t ask any follow-up questions. Instead, he peered toward the street. “So they won’t remember being gone.”
Munro shook his head. “Seems like, in their minds, they
weren’t
gone. They blinked, and suddenly here we all were. With perhaps a bit of overlap.”
“That squares with what they’re getting from the house-to-house. Most of the people who disappeared were sleeping. They didn’t even notice having a nightmare, and one sod actually yelled at PC Janey for waking him up.” Hallward chuckled.
“Sarge,” Munro began, “I can’t stay on with the police.”
Hallward looked him in the eye. “When did you decide this?”
“Tonight. I know it seems sudden, but it’s the only thing that makes sense. I just don’t fit in here anymore. I could never imagine being anything other than a copper, but now, well…” He didn’t want to bring up the obvious, that the subtle changes in his appearance and abilities might grow even less subtle, making him stand out in human society in a way that wouldn’t be good for anyone.
He knew Hallward could see it plainly. It was written all over his expression as he stared at Munro’s glowing eyes. “Going to Skye then?”
“For now,” he said. “Eilidh and I both have a lot to learn from her people up there.”
Hallward nodded. “You’re a good copper.”
“Thanks, Sarge. I feel like I’m cutting and running, but I can’t see any other way.”
With a wave toward the street, Hallward said, “Can we expect shit like this to happen more often? Is something going on with them?”
“I hope not. Believe it or not, last year’s murders and this were unrelated. The fae have been executing their own people for having certain forbidden abilities for years. If the Skye conclave has anything to say about it, that will stop. If they succeed, you won’t keep getting faeries who are running away from death orders or oppression. They’ll always be around, the fae. They need to be a part of the human realm. But we’re more of a threat to them than they are to us.”
Hallward chuckled, obviously not quite agreeing with that statement. “I wish you and your friends good luck then,” he said. “Let’s put you on an indefinite leave of absence. Don’t hang up your baton and handcuffs for good. If I see anything strange crop up, yours will be the first number I call.” He stuck out his hand, and Munro clasped it firmly and shook it.
“I’m good at explaining strange events,” Hallward continued. “Most were surprised you didn’t take more time after being attacked by a serial killer last year, so a cover story wouldn’t be difficult to sketch out. It won’t even have to be too far from the truth.”
“Thanks.” Munro appreciated the offer, but he didn’t think he’d be back. Of course, with everything on Skye being in such upheaval, it was good to have options. But he knew that one important order of business in the next few days was to call an estate agent to put his house in Perth on the market. He’d work things out with Eilidh. They needed each other, and he wasn’t ready to give up. But even if that didn’t happen the way he hoped, his place was with the fae.
There was much debate about how to get Trath to Skye, and the druids provided the best solution. Eilidh led Griogair, who carried Trath to Perth, where the druids had driven and picked up another one of their cars. Although the two faeries could have carried Trath all the way to Skye, and Griogair certainly had the will to do so, that journey would have taken days and been far too treacherous.
Griogair was even more uncomfortable safety-belted into the smelly machine than she had been her first time. He seemed not to trust the vehicle’s movement, and he watched other cars on the road with a mixture of awe and horror.
Eilidh turned around from her position in the front passenger seat and looked at the crown prince, who rested his head on his father’s shoulder. She smiled at Griogair, who mouthed the words, “Thank you.”
When she faced forward again, she caught Douglas staring at the crown prince in the rear-view mirror. “What is it?” she asked him.
Douglas frowned. “I’m not sure exactly. I’m just worried about him. Is he going to be all right?”
Eilidh watched the druid closely. “I hope so.”
“It’s…well…I need to do something. Does he need a doctor?”
With a gentle touch to his wrist, Eilidh did her best to send calming energy to the druid’s mind. Influencing his mind wasn’t as easy with Douglas as it was with Munro, but his forehead relaxed, and his breathing became more even. Even still, he stole glances into the mirror frequently, and Eilidh knew he must have felt drawn to Trath in more than just a casual way.
She considered what Douglas bonding with Trath would mean. The other fae wouldn’t like it, but then,
anyone
not chosen would feel aggrieved. If Trath had permanent problems with the stability of his mind and his magic, possibly he could force that instability onto Douglas. On the other hand, the druidic bond might soothe him and help him heal.
If Trath didn’t survive, though, it would be better for everyone if Douglas didn’t bond with him. The bond could only be completed once in the lifetime of a druid or a faerie. It couldn’t be severed or transferred. She had no idea what the grief of losing a bonded faerie would do to a druid. As she pondered it, she considered what it would do to her to lose Munro. It was one thing to feel some friction, brought on by what she realised was mostly ego and misunderstandings. But the thought of losing him completely made her feel anxious and sick. If anything happened to him, she thought she might go mad.
The hours spent in the car made her queasy. She could have told Griogair she had to wait for her druid, then she and Munro could have run to Skye together. But when she had seen Trath and his confused, helpless state, she’d worried about what might happen and acted without thinking.
Now, she sat in the rumbling machine and went through her focus exercises, practising breathing, mind expansion, touching the astral plane. As she let her mind go, her body relaxed. She lost awareness of the road and the smell of petrol and even of Griogair, Trath, and Douglas. Her thoughts sought out Munro, and she caressed the connection between them, and felt the bond quiver in response. When she closed her eyes, she could see his dark blue eyes, glowing like the Otherworld moon. He was close, she realised, and moving faster than they were, and seemingly ahead of them. His car must have passed them either when they stopped so Douglas could buy more petrol, or another time, when Griogair insisted they pull over so he and Trath could steady themselves. She understood the feeling. It did her good to stop moving for a little while as well.