THROUGH THE SHIMMER of the barrier, Kinley saw hundreds of undead marching up from the shore, spurring her into a fast dash for the woods. As long as she stayed inside the barrier, she felt sure she’d remain invisible to the legion, but she was running out of glen. As soon as she reached the rounded corner by the forest, she had no choice but to head for the trail to the cliffs.

“Where is Evander when I need him,” she muttered, and then ducked her head and stepped through to the other side of the barrier.

Keeping her pale hair covered with the dark cloak, Kinley darted behind a wide-trunked tree and stopped to listen. The Romans’ boots made soft crunching sounds as they pounded their way over the long grasses. The torches the men in the front ranks carried left trails of oily smoke in the air. God, but she hated the heartless, murderous bastards for snatching Danyel. The legion liked to hurt the helpless. She wanted to burn them all, right to the ground, but she couldn’t risk lighting up her hands. She might hurt the boy, and the flames she could throw would also give away her position.

The dove in her bodice shifted, but thankfully didn’t make any sound.

“Behave, birdie,” she said in a bare whisper, and stroked the head that popped up to look at her. “You’ve got to go save our lives.”

Finally, the marching sounds stopped, and she peeked around the tree to see the undead standing in attack formations at the very edge of the barrier. In their center stood Quintus Seneca, dressed in battle armor and his fancy red cape. Another Roman in a dark hooded cloak also stood examining the barrier. Between them a short druid in a shiny gray robe was holding out his hands parallel to the barrier. Black and red sparks flew from his fingers but bounced off the spell boundary to fall and sizzle at his feet.

“Come now, Ovate Lusk,” the druid called out in a loud voice. “You ken you are trapped with no hope of escape.”

The men kept their eyes on their tribune, and their centurions had stepped forward to create some sort of front line. This was her moment.

Kinley went from one tree to the next, taking advantage of the cover the forest provided until she was out of the legion’s sight.

Making her way to the cliffs meant finding her way through the woods in the dark, but once she got away from the legion’s torch-bearers her eyesight sharpened and adjusted to the shadows. A few minutes later she reached the entry through the cliffs, and hurried through it into the passage.

“Whew.” She stopped for a moment to gently pull the dove out of her cleavage, and cradled it between her hands. “We made it. Now just don’t pull me in after you, okay? I’m pretty sure I’d go back to the future and you wouldn’t like me so much on the other side. I have Frankenface there.”

She didn’t hurry as she walked out into the clearing around the portal. Being one slip and fall away from the horrors she’d revisit in the twenty-first century made her extra cautious. The dove grew restless as she stopped outside the carved stones, and turned its head to glare at her.

“Remember, go straight to the castle, and find Evander, or Raen, or just any big guy there.” She knelt down, feeling sweat inching down her temple as she reached out and held the dove over the portal.

The carvings on the stone glowed with gold and blue light, and the ground swirled open to reveal a whirling tunnel beneath the surface.

Kinley bent over as far as she dared, and released the dove, who flew down into the portal and disappeared. As soon as it did she snatched her hands away and watched as the ground solidified again. The stone carvings pulsated as she stood and backed up, and she scowled.

“Stop trying to tempt me. Lachlan needs his personal flame-thrower on this trip.” She looked up at the sky, where the sun remained blotted out by the roiling disc of magic. “Just do what you can to keep me from disappearing, okay?”

Going back the way she came worked fine, at least until she reached the glen. More Romans had arrived to add their numbers to those surrounding the barrier, which was now completely cut off. She backtracked and tried to find a break in the ranks, but the Romans had formed an undead barrier of their own.

Kinley stopped under a pine tree, and noticed a branch that had snapped off that still had its needles attached. She picked it up and studied it before she eyed the legion again.

“If you’re not going to make a hole,” she muttered as she summoned her gift of fire, “then I will.”

Setting fire to the branch, she stepped out to fling it at the nearest undead. It landed on the heads of two, who shouted and ran, fanning the flames racing over their bodies and driving away every other soldier around them.

Kinley rushed for the gap they created, dodging a few clawing hands as she clutched the cloak around her. She had almost reached the barrier when an arm whipped out and clotheslined her, knocking her on her ass.

The big, pale-skinned undead looming over her displayed his fangs, and bent down to grab her. “A female, good.”

“Not really good,” she said as she drove her boot into his groin, and then rolled onto her feet. “More like great.” With more Romans rushing at her from all sides she had to take a running leap to make it through the barrier. “Maybe amazing.”

On the other side Kinley fell flat on her face, and got a mouthful of dirt for her trouble. She spat it out as she hoisted herself up and glanced back to see that no one had hitched a ride.

“I should do this rescue thing professionally,” she said, feeling rather proud of herself. “Oh, wait, I did.” She did a little victory dance, until she saw the man standing and watching her. He had his unhappy face on.

Kinley gave her husband a little wave. “Heya.”

Lachlan folded his big arms.

Since he also had that look in his eyes, her least favorite look, she decided to talk very fast. “I got the message bird through the portal. It looked pretty smart, so it’ll probably find Dun Aran. I figure, the minute they get it, they’ll grab their swords and hightail it over here.”

His boot tapped the ground.

“I also warned them about the spring being blocked and all those black ships out there.” She waited, and when he didn’t say anything she added, “Come on, don’t be mad. Someone had to go. Okay, they made me do it.”

“No, they didnae.” He surveyed her thoroughly. “There are a thousand facking Romans out there, Wife.”

“More like nine hundred and ninety-eight,” she corrected. “Two are charcoal. Okay, maybe three. It was hard to count while I was fleeing for my life.” She batted her eyelashes at him. “And look, I’m alive. I made it. Yay.”

Lachlan pointed to the ground directly in front of him, and she trudged over to stand there.

“Can I just say one more thing?” she asked meekly.

“No. You’re the most reckless, mule-headed, thoughtless, irritating wench in all of Scotland,” he said sternly. “When we are done with this and return to the stronghold, I am shackling you to the bed. Naked. With guards. Many guards. Mayhap even Evander himself. Then I think I’ll have Meg feed you naught but fish and raisin pie for a month. No, two months.”

“Boy, you really are mad.” Kinley wrinkled her nose, and then stepped a little closer. “At any time during my lengthy incarceration, bondage and torture, do I get to play with the snake?”

“Aye.” His lips twitched. “But only after I’m done with you.” He brushed some dirt from her chin, and then finally dragged her into his arms and held her close. “Fack me, but I love you, you mad wee thing.”

Kinley heard a crackling sound, and looked back to see the barrier starting to thin and fill with black and red sparks. “Hold the facking. We’re going to need to get some serious defenses up and running. We’d better get back to the village.”