Highland Protector
Page 6
After pushing the fourth book away, and reaching for the fifth, Mrs. Dawson decided warm tea might aide in her search. Ever since Helen, Simon, and Amber came to be a part of her family…her home, she limited the time her hired help stayed in the house. The result was moving her old bones more than she’d have liked.
She was walking back into the library with her tea, trying her best to keep the contents in her cup from spilling when Helen intercepted in the hall. “Let me take that for you.”
“Thanks, dear. I’m not as steady as I used to be I’m afraid.”
Helen was the closest thing to a daughter she’d ever had. They’d met years before when she stumbled upon the auction house where Helen worked. Helen, having no family of her own, developed a kinship to Mrs. Dawson and from there the two of them became fast friends.
“Where are we headed?” Helen asked as she moved aside to let Mrs. Dawson lead the way.
“The library.”
Helen placed the tea on the table where a stack of books took up most of the room.
“Looking for anything in particular?”
Mrs. Dawson settled into her chair with a heavy sigh. “I was hoping to find something to ease Amber’s suffering.”
Helen eyes drifted toward the ceiling. “She really is hurting, isn’t she?”
“Yes. And it’s getting worse.”
Helen sat in an opposite chair. “She hasn’t left her room since she told us about the baby.” That had been days ago.
Mrs. Dawson reached over and patted Helen’s hand. “Don’t blame yourself. We have to believe she’ll find something to ease her pain. Her mother was adamant she stay in this time to find a cure.” Lora MacCoinnich’s gift of premonition spoke of Amber’s demise if she stayed in the sixteenth century, which was why Lora and Ian had entrusted their daughter to Simon’s care in the twenty-first century.
“How can a Druid gift have a cure? And why would any of our gifts cripple us like hers is doing?”
“I wish I knew. All the years I’ve sat among these books and never really understood the messages within the pages. Mr. Dawson and I collected them, but didn’t read nearly enough of them.”
Helen glanced up at the bookshelves and stood. “Maybe I can find the answer…if it’s here.” The greatest Druid gift Helen possessed was her ability to find missing objects and even people.
“I should have thought about that before searching myself,” Mrs. Dawson said as she sat back and sipped her tea.
Helen stood before one of the shelves, closed her eyes, and lifted her hands. Mrs. Dawson had witnessed her searching for answers with her Druid gift before. Helen moved slowly about the room in complete silence for several minutes. She paused in front of the wall of windows and lifted both of her hands before clutching both hands into fists. “This is the only space I feel any energy.”
In front of the window were two high back chairs and a single lamp.
Helen lifted the cushion of the chair as if perhaps there were a hidden book under the fabric. “Nothing,” she whispered.
“You felt something.”
“Yes, but obviously not the right thing. Unless you have a hidden floor vault.”
Mrs. Dawson smiled. “Not in this room.” There was one in the room Helen now shared with Simon, and another in the basement safe room.
Helen twisted back to the window, opened the pane, and reached beyond the opening. She moved her hands back inside and shook her head. “No. It’s inside.”
Mrs. Dawson pushed from her chair and made her way to Helen’s side. “Shall we try and ask for help. Like Simon taught us?”
Actively using their Druid gifts was new for both of them. Simon had shown them how to work together and ask the Ancients for help with life’s more difficult problems.
“Do you think we can do that without Simon? He’ll be home in a couple of hours.”
“I don’t see why we should wait. If it doesn’t work, we can try again when he’s here.” According to Simon, the more Druid power used the better chances of achieving success.
Helen shrugged and moved about the room to arrange several candles in a circle surrounding the reading chairs by the window. After closing the blinds, Helen placed a finger to each of the candles and sparked the wicks to life.
“You’ve gotten better at that,” Mrs. Dawson said.
“Simon is a good teacher. I still can’t do it from across the room like he does.”
“Give it time.”
With the candles lit, Helen clasped hands with Mrs. Dawson and shrugged. “Here goes nothing.”
Mrs. Dawson closed her eyes and thought of Amber while Helen chose her words carefully.
“In this day and in this hour, we ask the Ancients for their power. Bring to me what I can’t see, to help ease Amber’s misery.”
A familiar breeze lifted the hair on Mrs. Dawson’s neck and the hair on her arms stood on end. She opened her eyes to find Helen looking around the room. Energy bounced around the space, shifting the curtains and the flames from the candles. Yet nothing else happened.
“Please.”
“Are you sure we’re in the right spot?” Mrs. Dawson asked.
“Yes.”
The room kept up a constant buzz, not letting go of their power. It was as if the Ancients were waiting for the right request to give them what they needed.
Mrs. Dawson tried her own appeal. “In this day and in this hour, we beg the Ancients for their power. Whether from the future, present, or past, bring us the knowledge that this spot possesses.”
A blinding light filled the room with a crack of lightning.
Mrs. Dawson’s heart leapt and Helen let go of her hands to circle protective arms around her.
As quickly as the room exploded with noise, it stopped and silence filled every corner.
Mrs. Dawson hadn’t realized she’d closed her eyes until she opened them. Her gaze fell on a lone man calmly sitting in one of the reading chairs with glasses perched on his nose and a large book tipping from his fingertips.
“Well, that was a whole lot of noise for nothing,” Helen said.
“Um, dear?” Mrs. Dawson nodded behind Helen toward the man. When Helen turned around, she gasped.
****
Kincaid found Giles where he’d left him. He sat with a book in his lap, his head buried in the pages.
“Find anything?” Kincaid asked as he walked in the room and closed the door behind him. The others had gone to bed and only a small watch kept their eyes on the compound.
She was walking back into the library with her tea, trying her best to keep the contents in her cup from spilling when Helen intercepted in the hall. “Let me take that for you.”
“Thanks, dear. I’m not as steady as I used to be I’m afraid.”
Helen was the closest thing to a daughter she’d ever had. They’d met years before when she stumbled upon the auction house where Helen worked. Helen, having no family of her own, developed a kinship to Mrs. Dawson and from there the two of them became fast friends.
“Where are we headed?” Helen asked as she moved aside to let Mrs. Dawson lead the way.
“The library.”
Helen placed the tea on the table where a stack of books took up most of the room.
“Looking for anything in particular?”
Mrs. Dawson settled into her chair with a heavy sigh. “I was hoping to find something to ease Amber’s suffering.”
Helen eyes drifted toward the ceiling. “She really is hurting, isn’t she?”
“Yes. And it’s getting worse.”
Helen sat in an opposite chair. “She hasn’t left her room since she told us about the baby.” That had been days ago.
Mrs. Dawson reached over and patted Helen’s hand. “Don’t blame yourself. We have to believe she’ll find something to ease her pain. Her mother was adamant she stay in this time to find a cure.” Lora MacCoinnich’s gift of premonition spoke of Amber’s demise if she stayed in the sixteenth century, which was why Lora and Ian had entrusted their daughter to Simon’s care in the twenty-first century.
“How can a Druid gift have a cure? And why would any of our gifts cripple us like hers is doing?”
“I wish I knew. All the years I’ve sat among these books and never really understood the messages within the pages. Mr. Dawson and I collected them, but didn’t read nearly enough of them.”
Helen glanced up at the bookshelves and stood. “Maybe I can find the answer…if it’s here.” The greatest Druid gift Helen possessed was her ability to find missing objects and even people.
“I should have thought about that before searching myself,” Mrs. Dawson said as she sat back and sipped her tea.
Helen stood before one of the shelves, closed her eyes, and lifted her hands. Mrs. Dawson had witnessed her searching for answers with her Druid gift before. Helen moved slowly about the room in complete silence for several minutes. She paused in front of the wall of windows and lifted both of her hands before clutching both hands into fists. “This is the only space I feel any energy.”
In front of the window were two high back chairs and a single lamp.
Helen lifted the cushion of the chair as if perhaps there were a hidden book under the fabric. “Nothing,” she whispered.
“You felt something.”
“Yes, but obviously not the right thing. Unless you have a hidden floor vault.”
Mrs. Dawson smiled. “Not in this room.” There was one in the room Helen now shared with Simon, and another in the basement safe room.
Helen twisted back to the window, opened the pane, and reached beyond the opening. She moved her hands back inside and shook her head. “No. It’s inside.”
Mrs. Dawson pushed from her chair and made her way to Helen’s side. “Shall we try and ask for help. Like Simon taught us?”
Actively using their Druid gifts was new for both of them. Simon had shown them how to work together and ask the Ancients for help with life’s more difficult problems.
“Do you think we can do that without Simon? He’ll be home in a couple of hours.”
“I don’t see why we should wait. If it doesn’t work, we can try again when he’s here.” According to Simon, the more Druid power used the better chances of achieving success.
Helen shrugged and moved about the room to arrange several candles in a circle surrounding the reading chairs by the window. After closing the blinds, Helen placed a finger to each of the candles and sparked the wicks to life.
“You’ve gotten better at that,” Mrs. Dawson said.
“Simon is a good teacher. I still can’t do it from across the room like he does.”
“Give it time.”
With the candles lit, Helen clasped hands with Mrs. Dawson and shrugged. “Here goes nothing.”
Mrs. Dawson closed her eyes and thought of Amber while Helen chose her words carefully.
“In this day and in this hour, we ask the Ancients for their power. Bring to me what I can’t see, to help ease Amber’s misery.”
A familiar breeze lifted the hair on Mrs. Dawson’s neck and the hair on her arms stood on end. She opened her eyes to find Helen looking around the room. Energy bounced around the space, shifting the curtains and the flames from the candles. Yet nothing else happened.
“Please.”
“Are you sure we’re in the right spot?” Mrs. Dawson asked.
“Yes.”
The room kept up a constant buzz, not letting go of their power. It was as if the Ancients were waiting for the right request to give them what they needed.
Mrs. Dawson tried her own appeal. “In this day and in this hour, we beg the Ancients for their power. Whether from the future, present, or past, bring us the knowledge that this spot possesses.”
A blinding light filled the room with a crack of lightning.
Mrs. Dawson’s heart leapt and Helen let go of her hands to circle protective arms around her.
As quickly as the room exploded with noise, it stopped and silence filled every corner.
Mrs. Dawson hadn’t realized she’d closed her eyes until she opened them. Her gaze fell on a lone man calmly sitting in one of the reading chairs with glasses perched on his nose and a large book tipping from his fingertips.
“Well, that was a whole lot of noise for nothing,” Helen said.
“Um, dear?” Mrs. Dawson nodded behind Helen toward the man. When Helen turned around, she gasped.
****
Kincaid found Giles where he’d left him. He sat with a book in his lap, his head buried in the pages.
“Find anything?” Kincaid asked as he walked in the room and closed the door behind him. The others had gone to bed and only a small watch kept their eyes on the compound.
