AS THE CLEARING shook with the thudding, pounding footsteps of the totems, Rowan kept speaking the words of the solstice spell. She knew Hendry and the giants had surrounded them, and heard Bhaltair’s struggles as he was dragged over to the altar. Taran she could feel even closer, standing just behind her back. She also knew if she stopped the spell then everything they’d done would have been for nothing.

“Exactly so, Sister,” Hendry cooed to her as he shoved the old druid onto his knees. “You’re almost finished.” He bent and grabbed the crock of goat’s blood she’d left at the base of the altar and tossed it aside. “But you cannae appease the Gods with this.” He jerked back Bhaltair’s head, baring his wrinkled throat. “Give them the blood of the most foolish druid in the mortal realm.”

Rowan had to seal the spell with blood. Now that Hendry had taken the crock she had nothing to use. She had only a few more lines to recite before it would be time.

“’Twill be my debt to the clan repaid, Mistress,” Bhaltair gasped out. “Take my blood.”

“You see?” Hendry told her. “He wants to die for you, druidess mine. I’d open his veins for you, but yours must be the hand that spills the blood. Now take that dagger and cut his throat.”

The sound of wood cracking shot through the air, and Rowan glanced up to see the totems beginning to collapse. They hit the ground with such force that most of their limbs and heads snapped off. She saw one that still had an arm and a leg crawling toward her, and shuddered.

“Hendry!” Murdina called and ran to her lover. She tripped over Bhaltair before she flung her arms around Hendry. “Master Flen has come to the ritual.” She tried to kiss Hendry, laughing as he dodged her mouth. “Dinnae be shy, my love. He’s come to perform our mating ceremony.”

Bhaltair got to his feet and staggered toward the portal.

In the distance, Rowan saw Brennus leap from his mount, vaulting forward in a great arc. As he landed, a sword flashed in either hand, chopping off wooden limbs and heads in the thick of the famhairean. Though she couldn’t hear Cadeyrn, he was shouting orders as he waded in after the chieftain. Ruadri and Kanyth flanked them both, weapons clashing with the axes of the giants.

Though Rowan couldn’t see them, she knew that Althea and Lily would be waiting at the edge of the clearing. Emmie and Perr had already played their parts. Now it was her turn. Without hesitation, she drew the dagger and ran it deeply across her hand.

Slowly the drops spattered at the base of the altar as she uttered the last words of the ritual spell. She checked the sky, only to see the same seething crimson.

“Do it already,” she muttered, as she squeezed her hand into a fist.

More blood trickled down, but nothing above changed. She’d done it right. She knew she had but… Her gaze landed on the crock of goat’s blood, now spilled in the clearing.

Does it need to be that much?

She stared at the dagger in her hand.

“Rowan,” Taran called to her as the sound of a hundred mounted riders thundered across the clearing. “You must finish it now.”

All the cacophony around her fell to a hushed murmur, and just his voice ran through her head.

You must finish it now.

Over and over, his voice was like music, like water. He had called to her through time, and time had brought them together. She knew now it would never be the last time. They had transcended time. Their love would outlast it.

Rowan smiled as she repeated the words of the ritual spell. She’d been born for this, for him. They’d come together despite impossible odds. Now she knew something else. She and Taran had been brought together to save this clan, this time, this world. All the others that would grow from it and follow it would be their gift to the universe. Knowing that made the hardest thing she would ever do simple and easy. Very easy.