Forever His (18 page)

The inside of the hut looked much like the outside, clean but threadbare. It was a single room without windows. A firepit provided warmth and illuminated the sparse furnishings: a small, hand-hewn table, two chairs, a pallet bed and pillow in one corner, and a shelf with a few wooden bowls and iron cooking implements.

There was little food to be seen, nothing but two sacks of grain, though a large, ornate chest stood in one corner, bound with iron fashioned into elaborate, finely wrought Celtic motifs.

The woman took a basket from a hook on the wall and handed it to her daughter, looked at her in silence for a long moment, then handed her a coin from a pouch at her waist.

The little girl’s eyes shone with excitement. She hugged her mother, then ran to Celine and hugged her, too. “Oh, Lady Celine,
maman
is not angry. She is going to make a fine meal, to celebrate my return, but first she wants to speak with you. I am going to the village to see Madame Nadette and buy some mutton.” She held up the coin with a proud smile. “
Maman
says I may even visit a while with Madame and help with her herbals.”

With that, Fiara hurried off on her task. Her mother followed her to the door, smiling sadly as she watched her go before turning to Celine. “I have not told you my name, have I? I am sorry. I have lived so long alone with my daughter that I forget, sometimes, the usual way of speaking. I am Brynna.” She motioned Celine to a chair and took the other one herself, still looking a bit nervous. “For my daughter’s sake, I beg you, whatever you learn here this day you must keep secret. Please—”

“I’ll be grateful for whatever help you can give me,” Celine assured her. “And I promise I won’t tell a soul. But why are you so afraid? What is this
power
that you and your daughter have?”

“
Power
,” Brynna whispered, lowering her gaze to her patched skirt. “Aye, I suppose some would think of it that way. Though it is not, in truth.” She glanced up, studying Celine for a moment. “Long ago ... centuries ago,” she began slowly, “was a time of Ancient Wisdom, a time when mankind understood all—the languages of the earth and its creatures, the ways of the sea, the paths of the stars—”

“Astronomy,” Celine whispered, her heart starting to beat harder.

Brynna nodded. “And more, much more. But then came a time of darkness, and the Ancient Wisdom was lost. It survived only among a few, men who were held in high esteem, sought as healers, as wise judges in disputes, as advisors to kings. They came to be known as Druids.”

“Druids?” Celine thought of tall men in dark cloaks, Stonehenge, King Arthur’s Merlin. “So that’s what you and Fiara are?”

“Two of the very last. You see, long ago, some who did not possess the Ancient Wisdom began to fear those who did. They hunted them down, drove them from their lands, killed them. Only a handful survived. My father was a Druid of great knowledge, but he taught me to keep my ...
powers
secret, for fear of those who do not understand. Those who would call us witches and evil. People who might harm us.”

She paused, her hands twisting in the folds of her skirt. “I did as he bade, and married an important man in the town where we livid, a silversmith. My husband ... he forced me to leave when he learned the truth of what I am, what our daughter is. Fiara”—Brynna glanced up with a smile, her expression bittersweet—“is my greatest joy, but she is not cautious. I have tried to warn her, but at her age, she finds amusement in her powers. And her gifts are very strong. I must rely on my father’s writings to assist me, but Fiara’s abilities seem to flow naturally. It makes me fear for her. I thought if she could lead a more normal life, among normal children ...”

Her voice trailed off, but her eyes said it all: she wanted her child to have a better, happier, safer life than she had had herself. Brynna’s loneliness, and the sacrifice she was willing to make to save her daughter from her own fate, made Celine’s heart ache. She leaned across the table to squeeze the other woman’s hand. “If there is anything I can do. Any way I can help—”

“You will find it,” Brynna said with the same tone of certainty Fiara often used. “You have an exceptionally kind heart, Lady Celine. It radiates from you. But first, it is I who must help you, is it not? You must tell me all you know of how you came to this time. It was on the eve of the new year?”

“Yes. From what I can figure out, I think it was a lunar eclipse—”

“Eclipse? A dark of the moon?”

“Yes, I guess you would call it that.” Celine barely knew where to begin. Most of what she knew in this area came from listening to her sister, Jackie, who loved science and studied it. She herself hadn’t taken a single science course her first semester—her only semester—in college.

Boy, the little decisions that made a huge difference in life.

“I know a little bit about how eclipses work,” she said. “Let’s see, I guess first of all I have to explain that the world is round, not flat ...”

They spent the better part of the day talking about astronomy and time, putting together Celine’s twentieth-century science and Brynna’s ancient knowledge to try to make sense of how the lunar eclipse had sent her here. Celine used bails of wool to demonstrate how the earth orbited the sun, and the moon around the earth, and how a lunar eclipse occurred whenever the three lined up straight: the moon on the earth’s far side, the sun casting the earth’s shadow on the moon.

Later, Brynna opened her ornate trunk, which contained sheaves of her father’s writings, to see if his papers had any useful information to offer.

Fiara returned in the afternoon, and the three of them ate a meager supper—it pained Celine to note just how meager it was. Afterward, Fiara went to bed, exhausted by her midnight walk and her day of excitement. She slept soundly, except for a brief moment when she sat up, staring drowsily at the wall next to her pallet, almost as if she could see outside, and mumbled something like “He means no harm. “ Brynna tucked her in again, explaining that her daughter often awakened when wolves or other forest animals wandered close to the hut.

Hours later, as darkness fell, Celine and Brynna sat with brows furrowed, contemplating drawings and star charts sketched by Brynna’s father. Both were pleased that they were finally making some progress.

“So time, you see, is not so precise as many believe,” Brynna was saying, lighting a candle. “It is not a solid thing, to be carved into days and hours at our bidding. It is fluid, liquid. It can change as easily as the sea changes, on one day calm and smooth, on another stormy and dangerous.”

“So New Year’s Eve was just a dark and stormy night, timewise,” Celine muttered, studying an ancient piece of parchment with runic lettering and lavish illuminations in silver and gold.

Brynna smiled. “Aye. And just as the sea can be affected by outside forces, such as wind and rain, time can also be affected by outside forces. You have told me that it is the moon that controls the ocean tides—”

“Yes, something to do with gravity. And if the moon is strong enough to affect massive bodies of water that cover half the earth—”

“Is it not also strong enough to affect something so liquid as time?” Brynna pointed out with growing excitement. “On the eve of the new year, the eclipse must have been strong enough to cause a ripple in time ... a whirlpool.”

“And I was standing right on top of it,” Celine whispered. “And it pulled me in.”

Brynna nodded, eyes bright. “Like a door. A trapdoor that fell open beneath you. You are most intelligent, Lady Celine.”

“Not really.” Celine laughed. “At least, not compared to the rest of my family. So if that’s how the moon sent me back in time, how do I get it to send me home?”

Brynna spread out the paper she had been poring over, a roll of parchment so ancient it was yellowed and cracked and disintegrating along its gilt edges. “According to my father’s chartings of the stars, there will occur four more darkenings of the moon this year—‘eclipses,’ as you call them. First a partial one, here.” She pointed, to a circle on the map. “Then  a complete one, several months later.” She pointed to another spot. “Then two more partial ones after that. Here ... and here.”

“Did you say several
months
later?” Celine felt her heart drop to the bottom of her toes. “I ... I don’t think I have several months, Brynna. I’ll have to get home on the first one. I’ll
have
to. I’ve got an ... injury that needs attention. Soon.”

“In your back.” Brynna glanced up with a concerned expression. “I thought I sensed something odd there. Something amiss.”

“Yes. And it’s something that can’t be cured by herbals or bleeding or a barber-surgeon whose idea of sound medical care is amputation.” Celine could hear her voice rising.

“Then we must send you home on the first dark of the moon,” Brynna said emphatically, making a measurement on the chart with an odd little metal device that looked like an elaborate protractor.

“When will it be exactly? Can you tell?”

“A fortnight ...” Brynna muttered, moving the tool across the chart, “then another se’nnight ... it will occur three weeks from this night, Lady Celine. The first night that the moon begins to wane from full. And I believe that somewhere ... hmm ...” She set the protractor aside and started rifling through the sheaves of her father’s writings piled on the table. “I think my father makes mention of that—how the waxing and waning may affect the time-journey.”

“Come in on the waxing moon, go out on the waning moon. That makes sense.” Celine tried to remain calm, but her stomach was churning.
Three weeks.
Did she have three weeks?

“Aye, if only I could find the note,” Brynna said, tossing aside sheets of her father’s scribbles. “Ah—here it is.” She held up a page triumphantly, then leaned closer to the candlelight and began to read. “Hmm ... indeed ... ah, most interesting! Listen carefully, milady. Here is what you must do.”

“W
hat?” Celine asked nervously. “What must I do?”

Brynna read the page again. “My father mentions here the Druid legends that speak of people coming back in time, and says he knew of such people himself.” She lifted her gaze. “I remember him telling such tales when I was young, but I never quite knew whether he was merely making them up to amuse me. You are the first time-traveler I have ever met.” She glanced back at the parchment. “He says that not all of those he knew managed to return home. Some were trapped here, and lived out their days in this time—”

“Oh, my God,” Celine whispered.

“Nay, milady. It is no cause for alarm. He says it will work as you said—in on the waxing moon, out on the waning moon. But there is a secret to making the return passage successfully. A key to open the door.”

“A key.” Celine took a deep breath, forcing her fear to the back of her mind, “What kind of key? I’ve got to get it right the first time, Brynna. If I make a mistake—”

“Nay, you will not. My father says that those who were successful went out precisely as they came in. You simply must imitate, as closely as possible, the instant you were sent back in time. Stand in the same spot, wearing the same garments you were wearing, even thinking the same thoughts. The key, milady, is that you must be complete—you cannot leave anything behind. And you cannot take anything from this time with you.” She glanced up again. “You have been here but a few days. Do you still have all the belongings you arrived with?”

Celine didn’t need to think about it for more than a second. She remembered vividly the moment she had awakened in Gaston’s bed. “Yes,” she said with relief. “Yes, I do! All I had with me was my teddy—an undergarment that women wear in my time. It’s considered rather indecent here. The serving women wanted to burn it, but I insisted on keeping it because it’s my only link with home. I’ve still got it, in my room!” Her fear gave way to growing excitement. This was going to work. She was going
home
. Back to her time, her family, her life.

Brynna smiled. “Then you should have no difficulties, milady. My father says here that only those time-travelers who had lost or discarded something they arrived with could not return home.”

“So I’ll just put on my teddy, think twentieth-century thoughts, and if the moon will cooperate ... ” Celine smiled, hope and anticipation building within her. “I get zapped and wake up safe and sound in 1993.”

“Aye.” Brynna laughed. “Three weeks from this night, milady. Mark it well. The ‘eclipse,’ as you call it, will occur on the first night after the moon reaches full, just as it begins to wane.”

Celine nodded. Three weeks. No way would she forget. Waxing in, waning out. The idea made perfect, logical sense. “Thank you. I’m so grateful for your help.” She stood and picked up her cloak, realizing she had kept poor Brynna awake half the night. “I’d like to send one of the serving girls with some food and things from the castle, if that would be all right—please, for Fiara?”

Brynna looked like she was going to object at first. Hard experience had clearly made her a fiercely independent woman, not the sort to accept charity. But at the mention of her child, she swallowed her pride. “Aye, milady. I thank you for your kindness to my daughter.”

Celine had every intention of sending just as many things for Brynna as for Fiara, but she didn’t mention that. “She’s a very special little girl.” Celine smiled. “Like her mother. Thank you again. I promise I won’t tell anyone the truth about your ... powers.” She glanced toward the corner, where Fiara was curled up beneath a blanket. “Goodbye, my little guide,” she said softly. “If I don’t see you again, be well. And be happy.”

And you as well, milady. Take good care of Groucho.

Celine started at the sound of Fiara’s voice. The little girl hadn’t moved, she was breathing evenly and appeared to be deeply asleep ... yet Celine had heard the words in her mind, as clearly as if the child had spoken them aloud.

“Lady Celine? Is something amiss?” Brynna asked.

Celine turned to her. “No, I ... uh ... I was just trying to remember how to get back to the castle.”

“Oh, aye—you must not forget this.” Brynna went to the table and brought over a small map Fiara had sketched earlier. “Remember to take the left fork when you come to the turn in the road.”