Myra scoffed. “All is right now. Well, mostly.”

Her eyes skimmed toward Lizzy and Simon. Both sat next to the fire and appeared tired from their long ride.

“Why do you say that?”

“It would be nice to have Grainna behind us.

Then perhaps everyone could settle down.”

Fin forced his gaze from Liz and focused on his sister. “I believe everyone is settling in nicely, considering the circumstances.”

“You think so? I know Simon is comfortable here, among us and in our time. But Lizzy is constantly talking about how her life will be once she returns to the twenty-first century.”

“Without the stones, Liz isn’t able to return.”

Not that he needed to state the obvious, but saying it aloud comforted him. He would deny why, if asked, but Myra spared him that inquisition.

“We’ll find them. And when we do, I think she’ll leave, unless of course, she finds a reason to stay.”

“Her family is here. Isn’t that reason enough?”

“Perhaps.”

Deep in the pit of his stomach, an empty ache started to grow. He pushed the uncomfortable feeling aside and left his sister to assist with the tent.

****

With the camp set, and the fires burning, the hearty scent of simmering food wafted in the air. “God, I’m hungry,” Liz said while rubbing her palms over her backside. “And my ass is so sore. I think I may opt to walk tomorrow.”

Tara glanced up from where she sat nursing her son. “Try carrying this one around with you.”

They pulled a small wagon along with them, in which they took turns riding. A small bed lay inside the wagon, giving Briac some time out of Tara’s arms. A sling helped keep him close when she rode her horse.

“I’d be happy to carry him tomorrow,” Liz offered.

“I’ll take you up on it.”

Liz paced the confines of the tent. The mumbling of voices outside grew to mere whispers when the sound of a flute filled the night.

“Who’s playing?” Tara asked while folding Briac’s sleeping form in a blanket and setting him into his bed.

Liz peeked through the tent. The campfire illuminated the faces of those sitting opposite of where she stood. Whoever played had his back to her. “I can’t tell.”

The musical notes danced in her head, lifting her spirits and bringing a smile to her face. “How can such a simple tune sound so full of life?”

Tara made her way to Liz’s side. “Ever since I traveled in time to get here, I’ve asked myself that question. Life in general is simple here. Survival, family, and love. No one is worried about the ozone layer or how much the price of gas is going up. They don’t care if China is filling the stores with plastic products to undercut the competition.” Tara sighed, placing her head on Liz’s shoulder. The contact warmed her heart. “Every single day of their lives is a gift. They don’t need a rock band blasting from all sides to drown out their internal voices.”

As the musician finished the small audience clapped their approval.

Duncan turned, flute in hand, and smiled at his wife. “Duncan?” Tara and Liz both said together.

“I didn’t know he played.”

“Neither did I,” Tara echoed before stepping out of the tent to join her husband.

Liz stayed behind, wrapped her hands around her suddenly cold arms, and watched. “You’re lucky, sis.” A few scattering clouds filtered over the crescent moon in the star-filled sky. Liz couldn’t remember seeing so many flecks of light. Even at the keep, the ambient light of lit torches blocked out some of the farthest stars.

Frigid air raced up the back of Liz’s neck, halting her thoughts of stars, the moon, and simple music. In slow motion, she turned into the tent.

Tara’s son moved in his sleep, his chubby cheeks made subtle sucking noises as if still attached to a breast. Behind him, hovering in the corner, was the iridescent ghostly image of Grainna.

“No!” Liz wailed. At the same time, she leapt to Briac. Her feet left the ground as she flew across the room to keep her nephew from harm.

Liz covered Briac with her body while wind blew objects around the tent. Gathering him close, she closed her eyes and lowered her head to avoid a flying cup.

Within seconds, the tent filled with concerned voices, Tara’s among them. “Briac.”

A muffled cry escaped his mouth.

The wind stopped.

Liz opened her eyes. Surprised that she’d closed them. It wasn’t like she could hide from their enemy.

“What happened?” Tara asked, taking her son in her arms.

Duncan stood by her sister. Ian and Lora were at the mouth of the tent. Fin pushed past them with Simon right behind. Every well-placed item in the tent now sat askew. Liz began to shake.

“She was here.”

Duncan drew his sword. “Where?” he bellowed.

Liz motioned to the back of the tent.

Duncan ran past his parents in obvious search for their enemy.

Ian turned to the men who gathered around.

“Search the area,” he ordered. “Report anything you see.” Fin’s deadly stare met Liz before he turned to leave the tent.

“Wait.” Liz stopped him.

“What is it?”

A few unsteady steps in his direction brought her close enough so she could whisper and avoid anyone’s unwelcome ears. “She appeared like a ghost, Fin.”

His eyes narrowed before he nodded and left her side. “Cian, stay here with the women and Simon.”

“Aye.”

Amber cooed soft words to Briac who now fussed with the rude intrusion of his rest.

“We need to cast a protective circle, like we did at the keep.”

“One that moves with us,” Amber added.

Myra ran into the tent, breathless, her hair mussed with a weed sticking to the side. “What did I miss?”

“Where were you?”

“Ah.” Myra glanced toward her brother and Simon and shook her head. “That isn’t important.

Fin told Todd to come with him. Everyone’s on alert.”

Cian stood before the opening of the tent and closed the flap. “Grainna was here.”

“Which means we need to be a lot more careful.”

Liz shook off her early jitters and started cleaning up the mess Grainna left in her wake.

“Did she say anything?” Tara asked.

Liz shook her head. “No.”

“What did she do?”

Liz swallowed not wanting to upset her sister.