2

Meehall jumped out of the small bed in a panic. What was he doing in the modern world?

Needing to relieve himself, he got up and looked around —and remembered. He was in a dorm room at Celtic University, headquarters of the modern Druids. One of his oldest friends had surprised him with a summons here for a meeting yesterday. An unsettling meeting.

***

Meehall knocked on the ancient wooden door across the graystone hallway from Meehall’s time travel locus in Chancellor Stanley's office.

When his friend Kelsey opened it, she studied him. "The 1700s agree with you. I've never seen you healthier." She held out her arms for a hug.

Meehall hugged her, then closed the door behind him. "Thank you. I could say the same for you about the 1300s."

She stood relaxed and sociable, raising her hand to indicate a nice catered lunch on the table in the corner. "Please, join me."

Kelsey’s gesture made the blood drain from Meehall’s face. On the surface, it was simply polite. But he had seen that exact same gesture before. Made by the Druids. More exactly, the strain of Druids who had enslaved his family five hundred years ago, forcing the MacGregors to do time travel errands for them. They ran Celtic University, and Kelsey was one of their star graduates.

A second later, when his subconscious had processed all this, the battle heat rose up in him, tightening his muscles, making him itch to draw a sword he didn’t currently have.

Because of his grandfather Dall’s amended arrangement with the Druids who ran Celtic, Meehall could live in the past. His three sons had a whole clan to help raise them. He hunted with his cousins, helped in the feud with the Camerons, and was a genuine Highlander. A dream come true.

Meehall was grateful. He was. But at times he thought the price his family paid for time travel was too high.

Keeping his face carefully neutral, he only said, "So why did ye send for me?"

Kelsey laughed, and for a moment it lit up her face like it had back at the Renaissance faire, where his same-age uncle Tavish fell in love with her when they were all teens.

Meehall had fallen in love with Sarah at the faire, too. And now that Cairstine was gone, thoughts of Sarah filled his mind often. How was she?

Kelsey was still smiling at him. "No reason, really. I just wanted to see you. I’m your aunt now, you know, through marriage. Can't a person miss her nephew?"

Something was up. Kelsey’s normal worksite was the dig at Dunskey Castle, hours away from here. But she obviously wasn't going to tell him what was going on, and the chance of her letting something slip would decrease immensely if he asked her.

So Meehall just smiled back. "Of course a person can miss her nephew who’s just a year younger. It’s nice to see you. I trust Tavish is well?"

She gestured at the food. "Please, let’s eat." She herself picked up a sandwich and took a bite, giving him her ‘isn't this delicious’ face.

Meehall dug in, and oh, it was good. He hadn't had white bread in years, let alone Red Bull. "I see you remember what I like." He did give her a friendly smile after that observation. It had been nice of her.

She gave him an oddly knowing look for a moment, but then her face dissolved into the friendliness she'd been sporting since he arrived. "Aye, Tavish is very happy, both in modern times and in the 1300s. We both are." She gently placed her hand on his. "But how are you, Meehall? I'm so sorry for your loss."

He had been fine until she brought it up. Cairstine’s death never truly left him. After a year, it had softened a bit, but it was always there in the back of his mind, ready to crush him in sorrow whenever something reminded him of her. His sons were a constant reminder, and he had to admit he spent more and more time away from them, leaving them in the loving care of their clan.

But he didn't want to tell Kelsey all that, so he just said, "It's getting better, the grief."

***

It had been an okay meeting, but he still didn't understand why she had called it. They had simply shared a meal and exchanged pleasantries. Truth to tell, seeing Kelsey so Druid-like had ruined his fond memories of her.

Well, he would just go home. Ciaran and Baltair were waiting for him to get back before they went on their next hunting trip. Alan was about to lose his first tooth, and his brothers Keith and Lyle were all excited about the prospect of holding a human tooth in their hands. Aye, he should have gone home last night. Why had he slept here, again?

Well, that was strange. He could have sworn he left his bracer right here on the nightstand. Had he left it in his bag? No, it wasn’t in there. He pulled the bedclothes off the bed and shook them, but no sign of it. With a sinking feeling, he got down on all fours and looked under the bed. Nope. Opened all the drawers of the dresser. No. And the desk. No.

Had he been so surprised at the change in Kelsey that he left it in her office? That had to be it. He only thought about showering for a split second before he dismissed the idea, kilted himself, and went back to the office building to knock on her door.

But it wasn't Kelsey who answered. No, it was Gertrude, Chancellor Stanley's secretary. "Hello, Meehall. Is there some aught I can help ye with afore yer meeting with the Chancellor in a few minutes?"

"I wasna aware I was meeting with the Chancellor."

"Aye, he's verra anxious tae see ye."

"Afore I go ower there, I'd like tae hae a word with Kelsey, if ye dinna mind."

"O’ course I dinna mind, but she isna here."

"I may hae left someaught in here yesterday when I was meeting with her. May I come in and hae a look?"

With an odd look he didn’t quite understand, she gestured him in, then watched him look around.

Hopeful, he looked first on the floor near where he had sat at the luncheon table. No. Puzzled, he looked on the bookshelf nearby. No. Fighting panic, he looked on the floor around the table, and then went down on the floor to look under the desk.

No sign of it. The bracer was gone.

And the Chancellor wanted to see him. This couldn’t be a coincidence.

Meehall nodded politely at Gertrude as he left Kelsey’s office and turned to knock on the door across the hall.

"Come in, come in," Chancellor Stanley called from inside. Upon seeing Meehall enter, his face brightened in a frightening imitation of friendliness. From behind his massive desk, he gestured to where a computer had been set up on his reading table in the center of the room. "We need ye tae complete some tests regarding the influence o’ time travel on ye. ‘Twill take up the better part o’ yer day, I fear, and then we hae a banquet tae attend, but after that ye wull be free tae gae…"

Meehall fully intended to fly through the computerized tests with nary a care for accuracy, but quite against his will, he found them fascinating. They asked about his personal life more than he was comfortable with, but he knew full well the druids could delve into his memories magically. So he answered truthfully. They were undoubtedly holding onto his bracer until after he finished. May as well get it over with.

As he rode to the banquet with Meehall in the back of his limousine, the Chancellor only said a few words. "I ken I dinna need tae tell ye this, but o’ course ye make nary a mention o’ time travel. The University’s story is that ye are involved in oor immersive ‘living history’ study o’ the area aroond Inverness in 1706, working as a reenactor at historical sites."

There was always a story. It was important for Celtic to seem like a normal research institution that made its money by taking in students, like other universities around the world.

"I understand," was all Meehall said. He had long ago given up trying to convince them to change their ways. What would be the point? All that did was make them keep him longer, here in the present.

The longer Meehall was away from his new life, the more anxious he grew. Sure, the boys were safe with his clan, but he didn't want to leave them there without him for good. And the longer he was detained by the powers at Celtic, the more he started to suspect that was the plan. He was like a Guinea pig to them, and apparently so were his children.

As usual, the Chancellor’s office hadn’t allowed Meehall to leave with his sword, not into modern times. The excuse was he needn’t alarm the students, but he knew full well the Druids didn't want him armed in their presence. He still had his bare hands though, and perhaps these modern Druids didn't realize just what lethal weapons those were. He wasn't some lab rat to be manipulated with the promise of cheese.

He spent a boring afternoon lying to the professors at other universities about how interesting it was to reenact the period he really lived in, and then the limousine took them back to Celtic and stopped in front of the office building.

The Chancellor walked up the steps. "Ye can use that dorm room as long as ye like."

Meehall rushed ahead and pushed the door open with more force than necessary. "I wull gae home now, sae give me my bracer."

Oh no.

Meehall broke into a run down the long hallway toward the Chancellor's door. Knowing he wouldn’t reach it in time, he strained his legs and ran with all he had, pushing himself to the point of pain with every stride.

Because Sarah was unlocking the Chancellor's office. She had two friends with her. They were all wearing period clothing. And on her right forearm was his bracer.