Highland Protector
Page 7

“Nothing about a painting of a single woman as you described. I’ve dug further back to see if there is any reference to it.”
Disappointment filled Kincaid’s heart. If anyone could find out who the woman was, it would be Giles.
Giles turned the pages in his book and delivered a brief history lesson. “You see, back in the times you just visited, tapestries were often used to record the people, the history. Only the very rich and nobility could afford portraits. And we know our ancestors were private people.”
“Because they risked persecution.”
“Some things don’t change. The difference between then and now is that back when Druids were accused of witchcraft, they faced being murdered, burned, or beheaded. The last few hundred years we’ve been used as lab rats, held hostage and studied.” Giles didn’t need to remind him of these facts. Kincaid understood why they lived outside the normal population.
“Are you suggesting the portrait I saw was of a non-Druid woman?”
“I suppose it’s possible, but I doubt it.”
Kincaid leaned against the center table, crossed his arms over his chest. “There are very few unwed descendants of the MacCoinnich’s through the generations leading up to the seventeen hundreds. Maybe the woman died before she could marry?”
“I thought of that.” Giles turned another page, barely glancing over the book to capture Kincaid’s gaze. “Which is why I’m searching for the life spans of the family. The problem is, we can’t be sure the family members died young, or if they traveled to a different time. We know the first time travelers were direct descendants of Ian and Lora. It’s said that all their children traveled in time at one point. Duncan and Finlay were the oldest, the first to move forward in time and back again.”
Kincaid knew the story well. Duncan and Finlay MacCoinnich had been instructed by the Ancient Ones to protect their world by finding Grainna, the most powerful, greedy, evil Druid ever known and stopping her from destroying every Druid and thousands of innocent lives. Most of the missions Kincaid and his men undertook also protected the lineage of this family. But none of them took them back to the time of Grainna, ever. It was hypothesized their interference might change the outcome of that final battle. They couldn’t risk that Grainna would become the victor, and not the MacCoinnich’s. Travel to the late fifteen hundreds was off limits. Always.
“I remember the stories, Giles. If I’m not mistaken, the middle sister married a knight.”
“Right. And there is some speculation the youngest sister died in the final battle, though some reports state she survived the battle, only to die later after a long illness.” Giles lifted the book in his lap. “This book has references from the first families’ grandchildren. I’m searching to see if they document anything about their direct aunts and uncles.”
“What happened to the youngest brother?”
“It’s vague. But it could be because the family clouded themselves in secrecy, or perhaps it could be he traveled beyond their time. I’m hoping to find the answer here. If not, I’ll call the Keep in the morning and request a link into their database.”
Kincaid ran a hand over his face, smoothed down the hair on his chin. “I can’t shake the feeling I saw that painting for a reason.” And he couldn’t. During their dinner, he kept picturing the woman, her eyes.
The hair on his arms stood on end.
“I’ll find out who she is, Kincaid.”
He turned to leave Giles to his work. “Oh, Giles…what were the names of the MacCoinnich daughters again?”
“Myra was the oldest.” Kincaid glanced over his shoulder to find Giles turning pages of the book. “Amber was the youngest. The one we think died young.”
Amber?
The air in the room changed with the mention of Amber’s name. Kincaid’s palms started to itch.
He looked over at Giles whose attention shifted from the book to the fireplace as it burst into white-hot flames. Before Kincaid could ask if Giles summoned the fire, the room rumbled and Giles—along with his book—disappeared.
Chapter Four
Amber shot up from her bed when the house shook. Very few things caused the world to upend as they just had. She paused, briefly, felt the presence of someone unfamiliar, and forced herself from her seclusion.
The pain in her head peaked as she descended the stairs. Anxiety, hers and several others in the house, assaulted her system and made her shake.
Helen and Mrs. Dawson stood in silence when Amber rushed into the library. Their eyes locked with a stranger sitting in one of Mrs. Dawson’s reading chairs.
All eyes swung to her.
The man surged to his feet, the book in his lap dropped to the floor. Amber clutched the edges of her cloak and stepped back. Though she didn’t think the man meant her any harm, her instinct kicked in. Every candle in the room lit, and the fireplace roared to life.
He didn’t stop staring at her.
Helen pulled Mrs. Dawson beside her until the three of them stood in unity. “Who are you?” Helen asked.
The man switched his attention to Helen then back to Amber. “I-I’m Giles.” He blinked a few times and reached down to pick up the book that had fallen to the floor. He waved a hand in the air, and the candles sitting on the floor blew out. He stepped over them, placed the book on a table, and proceeded to study the walls in the room. “I’m still in the fortress?”
Confusion rolled off the stranger in strong waves.
“Excuse me?” Helen asked.
“The fortress. Formerly known as Dawson’s Manor. This is the library is it not?”
“Formerly known as?” Mrs. Dawson asked.
“It’s been years, of course.” The man moved to a bookcase, removed one of the titles, and dusted the edges of the old book. He clicked his tongue as if disappointed in the dirt. “Dust and light are a book’s worst enemy,” he informed them.
“Excuse me? But who the hell are you and how did you get here?” Helen stepped forward and her voice rose.
He sat the book down and removed the glasses from his nose. “I told you. I’m Giles, the keeper of the books. As for how I got here…well, you hold the answers to that. I was calmly studying, talking with a friend, and then suddenly I appeared here. I assume one of you shifted time on my behalf.”
Amber’s hand reached for the pendant on the chain around her neck and looked at Helen. Helen’s necklace was hidden under her shirt, but she too held one of the time traveling stones.