“No, not that. We don’t have all we need, and the time has to be our choosing. But if we could leave something in his cave—block it from him, use it to see him there. Hear him. We could get the name. And we might learn his plans before he acts on them.”
“Not all of us,” Fin countered. “It’s too risky for all of us to go back. If we were trapped there, it’s done for us. Only one goes.”
“And you think that should be you.”
He nodded at Branna. “Of course. I can go back, leaving no trace in the cloak of the fog, take your crystal, as that’s what’s best for seeing, and be out again.”
“And if he’s in there?” Iona gave Fin a light punch on the shoulder. “You could be done.”
“That would be why a couple of us—at least a couple,” Connor calculated, “find a way to draw him out, keep him busy.” He grinned at Meara. “Would you be up for that?”
“I’d be raring for it.”
“So . . .” Grabbing a biscuit, and another for his pocket, Boyle considered. “The four of us go where Fin followed today, and hunt from there. Connor and Meara catch Cabhan’s attention so he’s after them, and the lair’s clear of him. If we find it, Fin takes this crystal, shifts in time back to the fecking thirteenth century, plants the thing in the cave, comes back, and we’re all off to the pub for a round.”
“That’s the broad strokes of it.” Branna patted his arm. “We’ll fix the small, and important details of it. So we don’t go until we do. None of us go near the place.” She looked directly at Fin. “Is that agreed?”
“It is,” he said, “and I’ve some ideas on a few of the details.”
“As have I.” Satisfied, and only a little angry still, Branna took a biscuit for herself.
16
IT WOULD TAKE NEARLY A WEEK BEFORE BRANNA WAS fully satisfied, and those days took precious hours away from perfecting the poison. Still, she considered it all time well spent.
The timing would be tight, and the circle would be separated at several stages—so every step of every stage had to be carefully plotted.
They chose early evening, so routines could hold and they’d still have an hour or more of light before dusk.
In her workshop, Branna carefully placed the crystal she’d chosen and charmed in a pouch.
“You must place it high, facing the altar, where it will reflect what’s below,” she told Fin. “And you must move there and back quickly.”
“So you’ve already said.”
“It bears repeating. You’ll be tempted to linger—as I would be in your place—to see what else you might find, what else you might learn. The longer you’re there, in his place and in his time, the more chance there is of you leaving some trace, or of him sensing you.”
She placed the pouch in a leather bag, then held up a vial. “Should it go wrong, should he come back before you’re done, this should disable him for a few moments, long enough for you to get back to me, Iona, Boyle in our time. It’s only if there’s no choice.”
She pouched the vial, added it to the bag. Stared down at it as she wished what he needed to do didn’t need to be done. “Don’t risk all for the moment.”
“As all includes you, you can be sure I won’t.”
“Touch nothing of his. Don’t—”
“Branna.” He cupped her face until their eyes met. “We’ve been over it all.”
“Of course. You’re right. And it’s time.” She handed him the bag, went to get her jacket. “Iona and Boyle will be here any minute.”
“When this is done we’ll have a window to look in on him as he too often looks in on us. And we’ll be able to give all the time needed to the poison that will end it.”
“I’m uneasy, that’s the truth.” She didn’t know if it helped to say it, but did know it was foolish, and maybe dangerous, to pretend. “The closer we come to the end of it, and I believe we will end it, there’s a pull and tug in me. It’s more than confidence and doubt. I don’t understand my own feelings, and it makes me uneasy.”
“Be easy about this. If for now, only this.”
She could only try, as there was no room for doubts, and no time to delay as Iona and Boyle pulled up outside.
She picked up a short sword, fixed the sheath to her belt. “Best be prepared,” was all she said as Iona and Boyle came in.