Whenever-kobo (15 page)

When the musicians took over, we danced. Jamie laughed at how I didn’t know any of the steps. I shook out a few moves and Callum pulled me to him, laughing. “That’s not how they dance.”

“They will one day.” I stumbled on my feet, exhausted.

“Time for bed.” Callum lifted me over his shoulder. “’Night Jamie.”

He carried me up the stairs on more laughter.

The blood rushed to my head and I had to grab his arms when he stood me on my feet. “You’ll dance with me again someday.”

“I will.”

“That was fun.” I felt dizzy from the cider, the climb, and the look in his eyes. The candlelight from the wall sconce reflected off his face, making shadows.

The back of his fingers brushed my cheek. “You’re fun.”

I felt their warmth after they dropped away, an odd phantom impression. I touched the spot.

Callum bent forward and kissed me. His kiss tasted like cider and laughter. I moved close and leaned into him. His arms wrapped around my waist and pressed me into his chest. I lifted my hands to thread them into his hair, which was thick and rougher than mine. My eyelids lowered and his kiss deepened. Certain. Knowing just how to press. Moving me. Melting me.

“Callum.” The Queen’s voice intruded and I jerked away. She tapped on the door.

My lips felt swollen and tingly. They missed his already.

The Queen said, “The King would see you.”

Callum pressed a kiss to the back of my hand and murmured he’d meet me after speaking with the King.

The Queen must have heard. “Your wife, too, and Jamie.”

***

The King lay as we’d first seen him, propped on pillows. The room was fresher and his coloring had improved. There were no servants there, just Callum, Jamie, the Queen, and me. The King said, “I would appoint you, Callum, to my high council. You will vow your fealty to this kingdom before God. In our church. Here. Tomorrow.”

Callum swallowed.

I took his hand and squeezed his fingers, feeling a fleeting moment of sadness overlaid by excitement. Every ceremony in this family involved the King’s sword. The ceremony would give us the opportunity to return home.

The King shifted on the pillows, his clever eyes glancing between us. “You were both sent here to aid us and your knowledge has proven true. You will stay.”

“You honor us,” Callum said.

I could tell he wanted to go on, maybe smooth the situation over with an Irish tale or maybe say something about the King knowing what was right for the Kingdom.

Jamie turned to me, his eyes bright. “You’ll stay?”

Enough was enough. I wouldn’t lie to the kid. “Sorry, Jamie, we need to return home, to our families.”

The King stiffened. “It is decided. A king’s will is not to be questioned.”

“If—,” I started.

The King waved me off. He stared from me to Callum and his voice sounded edgy. “You said you are married?”

What did that have to do with anything? “Yes,” I said, the lie sounding false to my own ears.

The King flicked his hands in the air and raised his eyebrows as if we were missing the obvious. “Married couples do not travel. Only Irish princes travel to benefit our country. The fact that you are here means you are meant to stay.”

He was making up rules. “We haven’t heard that part of the lore. We left 1313 just fine. We’ll leave 1013 too.”

The King motioned to the door. “The Queen will show you to the solar while the men talk.”

My brain felt tight as my temper rose higher. “But—,”

Callum shook his head and I knew I wasn’t helping. Trying to counter the monarch’s wishes was tantamount to treason. But we saved him. He owed it to us to listen and then to lend us the sword. “Callum and I aren’t married. I said we were, so Callum could protect me.”

A weird smile crossed the King’s lips as if he suspected this somehow. Did married people look different? Act differently together? I sucked in a breath and blew out the truth. “1313 got very complicated because King Mael proposed to me. So again, I said Callum and I were married so Callum could protect me. But we’re not meant to be here in this time. Not Callum. Not me. We’re, err, single travelers, and we’ll be leaving.”

Callum took my arm. “We will.”

“The priest will swear Callum into my high counsel on the morrow.” The King repeated his earlier words as if I hadn’t spoken.”

“Father, they saved you,” Jamie said, his tone respectful and reasonable despite his age.

“We’ll be leaving,” Callum said.

The King closed his eyes and flicked his fingers at the door in a dismissive gesture. “Leave me now. All of you.”

Callum stormed out and Jamie followed, the same anger in their stomping footsteps. I hadn’t seen any resemblance between Callum and his ancestors until now. They went down to the bailey and stopped at the newly forming wall. Callum kicked several stones off the top.

Jamie copied him, raising his leg to half his height to reach the top rocks. “You aided him. You truly yanked him from death. He was dying.”

Callum paced and I leaned against the wall, rubbing my arms against the chilled night air.

“I’ll talk to your father,” Callum said, “He’ll reconsider.”

Jamie glanced at me. “I want you to stay, but ‘tis not right.” He kicked at the rocks again. “Da will not let you leave. He’ll not grant you his blood.”

Callum stilled. “If we can get the sword, we don’t need his blood. The blood of a royal in line for the throne will do. That’s him. That’s you. That’s me.”

Jamie blinked and tilted his head.

“It’s true,” I said. “The King wasn’t with us when we left either time.” I grabbed Callum’s hand. “When the King brings in the sword and has you kneel, reach up and slice your hand on it. We’ll say the words together.”

Before the guys could add to the plan, the Queen came out to the yard, a knight at her side. “The lady must get her rest…”

Jamie raced off before she finished.

Callum and I walked to the Queen. Keep calm. Don’t give anything away. “We’re still talking,” I said.

The Queen took my arm in a tight grip and pulled. “That’s not appropriate, dear. From your own words, Callum’s not your proper husband. And as I don’t see a chaperone, so you will have to wait until tomorrow to see him.”

Her words felt like a punch. I did not want to be separated from Callum. I bit my lip to keep the peace, but felt as if I were drowning. I stared back at Callum, meeting his gaze, and let the Queen lead me off.

***

The young maid Rachael awakened me, though I’d have said I wasn’t asleep. I’d tossed and turned all night. But I must have dozed some, because I had to pry my eyelids open to see her.

“Your bath is ready.”

I knew how much work it took to prepare a bath. How had I not heard her carrying in the eight hundred buckets? “Thanks.”

Rachael motioned to the tub. “Hurry now, my lady. The Queen has sent for you. I’m to take you to the church when you’re dressed.

“Sure.” I shoved my hair out of my face. “Give me a minute of privacy, please.”

After Rachael left, I sank into the rose-laden water, flicking a finger at a bright red petal. Forget the wedding. Home. Today, I’ll be home. The thought filled me with urgency. I scrubbed, dried off, and was dressed in a white shift before she returned.

She carried a filmy, beribboned white gown and laid it on the end of the bed. “To the fire, milady. Let me braid your hair.” She held up two gold balls. “I’ll entwine these in the ends.”

“Uh. That’s okay.”

“Ribbons then.”

“Okay.” I stared at the flames, hypnotized by their orange glow as she tugged a comb through my hair.

Her fingers wound between the strands as she laced high loose braids with ribbons. “So rich and dark and so smooth. ‘Tis like silk.”

“Thank you,” I said. The pulling to get the last ribbons secured had brought me fully awake and now I wanted to leave. Did Rachael ever feel the same? Want to leave the castle? Did she even have a choice? A choice in her location or her life or her job like modern women? “Do you like it here?” The words sounded paltry compared to my thoughts.

“Oh yes, milady, ‘tis a grand family.”

“Hmm.”

Rachael assisted me with the gown, which had so many ribbons and so much lace, I’d never have managed it alone.

I thought of my own family with a pang and bounced onto my toes. I wanted to go home. We had to make this happen.

“Almost finished, milady.” Rachael pinned a silver brooch that held a dark blue stone in the center into the fabric at my shoulder.

“That’s not mine.”

“’Tis from the King. You saved his life. And he would honor you.”

“Oh, uhm, thanks.” The brooch plus my ruby necklace seemed over the top, but I didn’t explain to her the rule of putting on your jewelry and taking away one piece.

She stepped back, her face shining. “Milady, you look like a fairy princess, come to Ireland to grant us a boon.”

I was the one who needed the help. Anxiety stirred in me, and I thanked her for her kindness.

“Aye, ‘tis nothing. Now down to the chapel. The family awaits.”

My fingers clenched. I knew why they’d gathered. To see a ceremony. A ceremony we were about to disrupt.

My eyes closed briefly on the image, and then I put the thought off. I gathered my skirts and strode forward. With each step, the thrill of going home warred with fear that something would stop us.

I made my way to the chapel. Inside, Callum and Jamie stood at the front of the aisle, while the King and Queen sat on the first pew. The men wore dark clothes and the Queen wore a heavily embroidered purple gown. They were a beautiful family on the surface.

“Ah, the girl’s here,” the Queen said, satisfaction in her voice.

I strode to Callum. He watched my every step and then took my hands in his strong warm grip. “You look beautiful,” he said in his deep Irish accent. His fingers tightened.

“You do.” Jamie had shadows under his eyes and his mouth was drawn tight. He glanced between Callum and me as if knowing we were leaving.

I tried to smile and blinked my eyes. This was it. My fingers tightened in Callum’s rough hand and I lifted the skirt of my gown in the other. Callum led me up the steps to the altar. We were in luck. The sword was already in place. Callum’s gaze flickered over it.

“Shall we?” Callum asked, and his voice took on an edge as he blatantly eyed the sword now. He didn’t wait for the King to ask him to kneel. He swiped the edge with the back of his hand, making it bloody, and reached for me. I threw myself into his arms. He said, “Wherever I am needed in the future.”

Nothing happened.

We stared at it, silver and red with blood, the emerald secure in its hilt.

The King cocked his head back and crossed his arms over his chest.

Jamie’s eyes closed at our failure and Callum cursed.

“Come over here, Callum. You will stay as your knowledge is needed.” The King struggled to his feet, holding the back of the pew, and lifted his cane. He stared at me. The bright sun shone through the chapel, giving me a clear look at his small, narrow icy eyes for the first time. A second shock went through me. I’d seen a ton of light blue eyes in my life, in actors, in the people I’d grown up with. I’d only ever once seen eyes so light they had streaks of white in them. Icy eyes, icy, blue eyes. I turned to Callum. My mouth opened and closed.

The King said, “A king’s will must be obeyed. You explained of your time in 1313. You said that King Mael wants Hayley for his bride. I would send Hayley back to King Mael, dressed as a bride. A king’s will is God’s will.”

I gasped and clenched my fingers in the filmy white fabric of my gown, feeling the blood drain from my face. “No.”

Callum moved toward the sword, his stormy eyes more turbulent than I’d ever seen them. His fingers twitched and he reached for the grip.

Jamie ran to the sword, swiping his hand on it and then clutching it to his chest. “Hayley helped us and she wants to go home. To where she’s needed. In the future.”

Wind whipped through the chapel.

“The twenty-first century future.” I forced the words as the gust threatened to take them away.

Jamie wavered in front of me.

The Queen ran, grabbing for Jamie.

The walls blew out and the air swept away the King’s shouts.

Time warped.

The pain hit hard and fast, drawing all the breath from my body, making it so I could only concentrate on the knifing sensation. I landed on my hands and knees. The dusty, web-covered modern chapel lay before me. For several moments I could only try to breathe, barely aware of Callum landing near me.

A young couple cuddled on one of the broken pews. He was telling her a story, and his re-telling involved hand gestures that pointed out features of the church. She appeared engrossed, but didn’t look away from the man.

When we could move, Callum stumbled forward. “Ma. Da.” He sounded heartbreakingly eager. The image of the couple wavered in front of us. This couple was only in their mid-twenties, too young to be his parents. Callum stilled.

The woman watched us with confusion. The man stood and shook his head.

Callum closed his eyes briefly. “King Brian. I’ve come to assist you.” He spoke with a different tone.

The man laughed. “I’m no king. You sound like one of my wee nephews.” He glanced around the chapel. “Where did you come from?”

“They materialized out of nothing. I saw it,” the woman said.

“Impossible. Impossible made reality.” The man rose from the pew as if on autopilot and knelt. “Whatever I may provide.” The man stilled and his eyes flickered to the altar. “I’m Brian, an archeology grad student, showing my girl the family crypt. We’re minding my nephews.” His head tilted and his eyebrows arched. “Who are you? When are you from?”

“Brian?” the lady said, rolling her
Rs
. “This isn’t funny. How did you do this? Make them appear out of the air like that. How do they know you?” The woman moved to Brian. “What’s going on?”

I knew the reason we were here. I stepped forward and took Callum’s hand. I caught his stormy blue gaze, silently asking him for permission. Something burned in his eyes, regret, and resistance, fading opportunity to live a normal life, to not be a royal. Sorrow at the truth I was about to tell.