To Jaelle's immense relief, Alasdair stopped walking toward the door and turned back toward the couch. She gave him her friendliest smile when he turned to look at her.

"Why did Richard have to take my helmet, anyway? Couldn’t he just check something out from the University?"

Alasdair shook his head.

"He canna. Richard has been expelled from his professorship. If ye like, ye can go online and check that fact, since I can see ye still dinna fully believe Kelsey sent me."

Lauren piped up.

"Let’s try her again. She’s got to answer her phone sometime. I know she and Tavish just got married, but seriously."

Plainly able to hear Lauren on the phone through Jaelle’s earbuds, Alasdair smiled sadly.

"Kelsey willna be answering her phone until at least tomorrow."

Jaelle waited for an explanation, but when he didn't say anything, she gestured her frustration.

"After that announcement, you have to tell us why."

Alasdair nonchalantly sat down on the couch once again, his arms on the back, his ankle crossed over his thigh, and his foot wiggling.

"I canna tell ye. Jaelle, if Richard has yer helmet — and I hae no doubt what ye tell me is true — then he has gone back there, and he is verra dangerous. With enough ley line energy, the man believes he can become immortal. A great place tae dae that would be in Scotland under the right combination o stars, but he needs tae sacrifice a hero, wuth yer Breth being the obvious choice."

With Lauren on the phone, Jaelle felt a bit of reassurance. What Alasdair said was so far-fetched, but... She could call Vange, but it had been true, what she said about time travel objects only going to certain places and times and not being resettable by people. John had explained that himself, once upon a time.

She looked at Alasdair intently.

"Am I being recruited officially to help stop this Richard person? Is that why John left the helmet here?"

Alasdair gave her the smallest of smiles.

"All I can tell ye is that John didna leave that helmet here. If I try tae tell ye a thing more, I am blockit, unable tae even speak."

They sat there for quite a while, studying the looks on each other's faces. Jaelle thought Alasdair looked sincere. And determined.

Alasdair gave her his sternest gaze.

"Ye be willing tae let me get ye back tae the time o the Picts?"

Jaelle raised her chin and sat as a warrior, resolute and ready.

"Yes."

He nodded the slightest.

“Hae ye nothing suitable tae wear?”

She went to her closet and got out the dress she had made while cooling her heels that week she had to work for the museum. It wasn't complicated, just a simple knee-length sheath dress with a slit up the back so that she could move easily — but it was hand-stitched and made from homespun linen, which had cost her half a week's wages. Unfortunately, she didn't have any suitable shoes. Oh well.

He looked impressed when she came out.

"Verra well, come closer. Sit right next tae me sae our sides touch."

While his mere presence had raised the hairs in the nape of her neck, sitting next to him like this made her shake and quiver involuntarily.

If he noticed, he didn't say anything, just took her hand in his. It wasn't a gentle hand hold, the kind a friend or lover would give you. No. It was… It was as if he held the control lever on some sort of machine.

Disturbed, Jaelle drew her hand away.

He let go immediately.

"This has tae be a voluntary thing on yer part, Jaelle, or I willna dae it."

She still was shaking and trembling, quavering with the creepy vibes that came off him. Nevertheless, she was going through with this. She would get back to Breth.

"I am in this voluntarily, it's just that… My instincts are telling me I shouldn't."

He nodded.

"Ye hae good instincts."

He just left it at that, and they sat there in silence, the only sound her grandmother's clock, ticking away on the mantle.

She gave his side a nudge with her elbow.

"Well?"

Alasdair chuckled, a good-natured chuckle.

"Ye hae spunk."

And then, his presence was inside her mind. Just how much of her thoughts could he see? Her memories?

"I could,” said his voice inside her mind, disembodied. “But it would be an evil thing for me to do, and if I can help it, I don't like to do evil things."

If he could help it! When wouldn't he be able to help it? What have I gotten myself into?

Jaelle’s instincts told her to wake up now, snap out of this trance she was in so that Alasdair could connect to her thoughts. But no. She needed to get back to Breth. This was going to help, she knew it was. Somehow, she knew the druid was sincere about that. He meant to get her back to see Breth. She knew he did have ulterior motives concerning Richard, but he would get her back to Breth.

Richard was another story. She did not trust him at all, and she be glad to help stop him, whatever he was trying to do.

She didn’t see Alasdair here in her dream state the way she saw Kelsey in a dream, walking around and floating them up on top of staircases and through walls as if they were in a movie. No, with Alasdair it was more like he was another presence right there in her very mind. It wasn't visual at all, but of course she still knew he was here.

She could not read his thoughts at all, though. She only heard what he deliberately said to her.

He had been keeping silent while she ruminated and got used to him being here, but now his little thought bubble inside her head spoke up again.

"We all have obligations outside our control, or that we’ve agreed on. I say this by way of explaining why there are sometimes circumstances where I can't help the evil practice of reading someone's thoughts against their will."

What? Obligations? What is he talking about?

Jaelle’s instincts were kicking into high gear now, telling her she should snap out of it and get away from this lunatic before her sanity was at stake. A sense of panic pervaded her mind — except in the small corner where Alasdair's presence loomed. Oddly, that small corner of her mind was calm.

"Of course you have such obligations, Jaelle. You have an employer, after all. You can't tell me they never give you directions you don't wish to follow?"

Jaelle concentrated. Instead of thinking to herself, she deliberately answered Alasdair's question, directing a thought to him.

"It's not the same thing at all. I don’t do anything evil at the museum’s direction, just sell our souvenirs to the tourists by making suggestions along the way during the tour. It’s distasteful, sure, but it isn't evil."

Alasdair's little corner of her mind was still calm.

"Isn't it? Through your power of suggestion, you cause them to spend money they didn't intend on spending."

Jaelle could feel the warrior instincts kicking in. Alasdair was attacking her, maybe only on the psychological level, but attacking nonetheless. And so her instincts shifted from ‘run away’ to ‘turn and face your attacker. Keep your eye on him.’ It occurred to her that perhaps this was his intent.

He seemed amused at this last thought.

"No, I was just answering your question. I find that if I answer all the objections raised to my presence in a mind, the mind calms itself, and we can get to the business at hand."

"Oh."

"Is it working?"

"Yes, I suppose it is. Discussing it with you like this is much more comfortable than wondering why you’re here. I guess I'm getting used to it. I suppose that's a good thing, and yes I would like to get to the business at hand."

"Very well then, picture the helmet in your mind. Remember all the details you can — inside and out."

"That's easy,” she thought to him, doing as he asked. “I spent a lot of time studying it to show Kelsey, hoping she could tell me what the runes inside say. Hey, can you? Here are the runes inside."

"I can read the runes, but I cannot tell you what they say. I am restricted by the same sort of directives your employer gives you, but whereas you are selling things to tourists, I am teaching things to people — or not. Understand?"

"Yes. I'm surprised to, but I do understand."

"Good. All right, keep that helmet in your mind as vividly as you can, and yes, turning it every which way helps immensely. Keep doing that. Concentrate on it. Also, if you can bring to mind how it feels on your head, how heavy it is, what it smells like, the sounds when things hit it. Give me the idea the helmet is on your head right now."

She did, but this took so much concentration that she forgot to speak with him in her mind and instead just had random thoughts again, vaguely aware that these were the type of thoughts that her mouth would go off with when she was awake.

How is this going to help? How long will it take? How much time has passed? An hour here is eight hours where Breth is!

"The connection between an item, an era, and a location can be copied. An item can also be copied, and if the dream walker is powerful enough, he can copy it from the image in your mind."

I need to wake up.

"Are we done?"

"Wake up, lass, and see for yerself."

She couldn't believe her eyes. She rubbed them just to make sure they were actually open and this wasn't a dream. She even did the old cliché thing and pinched herself, and then had to believe her eyes. Wow.

Alasdair was sitting next to her on the couch, and on his head was a perfect reproduction of John's helmet.

As usual, before she could form a coherent thought about a new discovery or surprise, her mouth spouted off about it, telling everyone in the room — which was just Alasdair — but also Lauren on the phone what she was thinking.

"You’re gonna steal my idea of the helmet from me just like Richard and go off to Breth’s time without me, aren't you?"

Looking much more warlike with the helmet on his head, even though his hair was gray and his face was wrinkled and his hands were gnarled, Alasdair shook his head no with sadness in his eyes as he sat there next to her on the couch.

"No, no I'm going tae take ye with me."

He put his hands on her upper arms and touched his forehead to hers through the helmet.

"Hold still. This is gae’na take concentration on my part."

It was such a relief to have him out of her mind and to have come to her own senses that she didn't mind at all this holding still and letting him do whatever it was he was doing.

"What's going on?" Lauren said in her ear.

"I'm not sure, but I’m okay."

“Well that's good at least."

"Hush, ye" said Alasdair. "This is difficult enough without ye distracting me with talking."

"What is he doing?" Lauren hissed in Jaelle's ear.

"I'm making a copy o the helmet for Jaelle tae wear. Now be quiet."

Feeling like a disobedient kid in school and kind of liking the sensation, Jaelle tapped the phone as surreptitiously as she could and turned it on video chat, training the camera on Alasdair in the helmet.

Lauren gasped, but to her credit she kept quiet.

Before long at all, Jaelle could feel a copy of the helmet forming around her own head. It felt exactly like the original, and if Alasdair's was any indication, it looked just like the original too. She was really going to get to go back and see Breth!