Nadia's attention was ripped away from Ciaran at the same time her mind was torn away from his by the distance between them. Just a foot did it. One moment, her consciousness was comfortably bathed in the warmth of his. The next moment, she was alone, and being sternly told what to do.

"Start yer straightening up in Tahra’s suite," said Eimhir (AEveer), the chief's pregnant wife.

Unable to form words, the idea of going near Tahra horrified her so, Nadia just stood and blinked stupidly at the finely dressed woman.

Eimhir responded to Nadia's blank stare by adding, "Tahra’s suite is above the stables there, dae ye see the windows?" When Nadia still didn't start moving, Eimhir threw up her chin and took Nadia by the hand, tugging her into the kitchen door after her. "Gae through the kitchen this way, through this door intae the main hall, and then up the stairway on the north wall…" She huffed up the stairs, tugging Nadia after.

At the top, there was a balcony that looked out over the great hall, with only one set of double doors which must go into Tahra’s quarters. Sure enough.

"Through there, lass.” Eimhir gently pushed Nadia toward the doors the way a parent sets a toddler to walking. “Dinna fash sae. Ye didna spoil her plans the way that lad did, sae ye hae naught tae fash aboot. See that ye get her rooms tidied up, and then gae across the great hall and up tae oor quarters and his parents’. When ye hae finished with that, gae doon intae the general quarters. Matilda has taken ill this day, and ye are the next most spry lass. See that ye earn yer supper." And with that, the knighted Cameron’s wife huffed back down the stairs, leaving Nadia standing trembling in front of Tahra’s door.

It wouldn't be too bad. She would keep her nose in her work and her face turned away from the druid child. She was wearing a very different outfit now than she had been then, and her hair was covered in a dust cap Mairee had found for her, so there was no reason Tahra should recognize her. Thus bolstering her confidence, Nadia knocked on one of Tahra’s huge double doors.

The druid child’s voice came from deep within her quarters. "I'm in the bath! If ye are a lass come tae dae the straightening, get tae it. If ye are a lad, then dinna enter."

That was a relief. If Tahra was in the bath, then she was much less likely to see Nadia. Much less likely. With that thought to buoy her spirits, she resolutely pushed the double doors open and entered the druid child’s quarters.

Tahra lived like a queen. She had a king-size canopied bed on a raised platform in the center of the room. It had heavy drapes that could be pulled around it, and three goose-down comforters had been shoved to one side. Nadia started there, making up the bed and straightening the drapes. She could hear Tahra all the while, talking to her maids, who were assisting her in the bath.

They fawned over the druid child.

"Why hae we been here sae lang, mistress? Why dinna ye open one o’ yer portals and take us somewhere else?"

"Aye, 'tis such a grand time when ye make a gateway and take us through tae anoother place. The grandest time o’ all."

"And how soon wull we gae intae the future as ye said?"

Nadia cringed with every impertinent question they asked, expecting to hear the whip any second.

Unlike when she spoke with her male warriors, Tahra’s tone was indulgent now, with the maids. "'Tis different this time. That fire which forced us tae leave the sacred grove drained someaught from me that doesna normally drain. ‘Twill take me longer tae regain my strength. Och, aye, that's the spot what itches most."

"’Twill take longer this time, but next time ye wull take us intae the future, aye?"

“Eventually I wull. Perhaps na next time."

"Hae not we been good enough? Are we not loyal enough? Dae ye na feel cared for enough?"

"Ye dae a fine job o’ it. Dinna Fash. 'Tis not o’ yer doing, this limitation. I hae not discovered the secret o’ gang tae the future yet, nor tae the past. Soon, I wull. O’ that, ye can be certain."

They all cooed at each other companionably to the sounds of the water swishing and dripping.

"So ye will na gae withoot us?"

"I didna say that. Nay, I must gae learn tae gae through time. But if I canna take warriors, then I willna take ye. Nay, I must gae alone, betimes."

"Na now."

"Nay, na now."

The tones of their voices were so sickeningly sweet, Nadia wanted to turn around and leave the room immediately, but she saw an open book across the room. An important book, and treasured, by the binding and by the way it was mounted on a pedestal. Wait, it was the book Tahra had been carrying just before she whipped that man to death.

The book called to Nadia, but she dared not go straight to it, lest one of the maidservants come in and see her and ask questions. She had to work her way around the room.

While she dusted her way along a huge dressing table with a mirror and dozens of clay jars full of ancient cosmetics, she couldn’t help recalling what it had felt like to share consciousness with Ciaran. Home, that’s what sharing her mind with the smirking highlander had felt like. Being in her true home, not in her dorm room at Celtic University, but back in her grandmother's home in New Hampshire. There, every item was lovingly placed and every guest was lovingly welcomed.

Ciaran's mind was mischievous, yes, but not evil. It was playful, like most young men’s, but rather than video games or sports, he played in practical jokes. The times he lived in made his practical jokes much different from any she had heard of before. It had been such fun to glimpse his memories of them, especially the time he put Senna tea in the warriors’ ale and warned no one but his cousins, who all laughed when everyone else ran for the bushes during the bonfire that evening—

The sound of someone standing up in the bathtub made Nadia feel faint. Taking deep breaths and grabbing hold of the dressing table and steadying herself so that she could make a dash for the door, she only barely heard what was said in the bathroom.

"Wull ye turn roond sae we can wash the back o’ ye?"

"Dae ye want for us tae wash yer hair?"

"Aye,” said Tahra, “the grove near here is dirty, ye ken."

Nadia relaxed against the dressing table when she heard Tahra get back into the bathtub, accompanied by the sounds of water being poured over her head.

Whew. She had a while. Heart pounding, Nadia crept straight over to the history book, dust rag in hand just in case anyone came in. If they did, she could appear to be dusting the book, rather than pouring over its contents. She gasped. It was a history book. From the future, 1918. Oh no. Tahra knew what was going to happen before it happened.

The history book was open to a page that said, near as Nadia could tell in a strange version of Gaelic:

Desperate to get any information she could about the specifics, Nadia skimmed down the page, looking for dates and names. She nearly fainted again when a name bounced out at her.

Tahra knew Ciaran’s name, and that he would be crucial in blocking the druid child’s efforts to get the Camerons ahead.

Nadia rushed out of the room before she was discovered.