“Ah, Quinn,” he says softly. “You’ve always taken the world on your shoulders.”
He brushes his fingertips across my cheek. A strange sense of depth hangs between us. A comfortable familiarity that only comes when you know someone so well that words aren’t necessary any longer. It’s a moment that can’t last. There is too much else between us for such easy comfort.
“Send me back.”
“You shouldn’t even be here.”
“You think? What, that I shouldn’t be a twenty-first century girl back in time trying to save a MacGregor? Of course, I shouldn’t, Dugald. Don’t be daft.”
“Not exactly what I meant.”
“Then what?”
He starts to say something then stops himself. He sighs heavily and shrugs.
“It’s nothing. You were about to die and I’m not sending you back to continue being a fool.”
“It’s not nothing. You have a thought; what is it?”
He means something. The Druid’s lessons were always to ask the right question. If I learned nothing else in my time with him that one stuck. If it doesn’t make sense, if I can’t resolve it, I’m asking the wrong question.
You shouldn’t even be here.
I assumed. The mother of all mistakes. I assumed he meant back in time, but what else could he have meant? Thoughts race through my head then I hit on one that blasts the others away. I shouldn’t have been able to travel here.
Why? If I’m their almighty Destroyer, then it would only make sense I have enough magical power to do it. No, that’s not it because that doesn’t make sense.
“Quinn, it’s nothing,” he says, watching my face. He’s trying to distract me. I know it as sure as I know the sun rises. “I need you to understand your limitations. Get that and I’ll put you back.”
He’ll put me back. I can travel in the mists. I’ve done it enough times. Why can’t I now? What changed?
“You sons of bitches,” I whisper as it comes clear. Eyes wide I stare at Dugald, then anger explodes and I shove him. “You did this. You, what, what did you do? How did you limit my magic?”
“Quinn—”
“No. Don’t you ‘Quinn’ me. Tell me. What did you do?”
I’m in his face, metaphorically since he’s taller than I am. He takes a step back and I move with him, not giving him space to retreat.
“Nothing, no one did anything.”
I watch his face and I know he’s lying. The instant he does a strange calm settles across my thoughts. I’m angry, but not the effect of it. I don’t raise my voice.
“Dugald, don’t lie to me.”
He stops himself before speaking again and studies my face. The low trickle of magic that’s been the most I can draw since my return is there, but now I’m aware of it like a water hose that has a knot in it.
“You were moving too fast.”
“What did you do?”
He shakes his head. “It wasn’t me.”
“Who? The Druid? The Queen? Moira?”
His frown deepens but I can’t read him. Tugging on the trickle of magic, I pull harder and now I feel the resistance. There’s enough. I’m not going to stay here when Rob is about to die; I have to get back to him. I’ll sort out Dugald and the Fae later.
“You have to under—”