Jessie felt as if she were caught somewhere between a dream and reality, as if she were hovering in spirit form, observing someone else’s life.

Yes . . . yes it was. She was seeing Cate’s memories of Maeve when she first arrived from Gaul. How Jessie knew this, she didn’t know. Cate must have been thinking about Maeve’s first appearance from Gaul.

Gaul? Where in the hell was Gaul?

Jessie silently cursed herself for not paying closer attention in history class. God, had she paid attention to anything in her life? Now, when Maeve needed her most, she couldn’t even remember where Gaul was.

But she did remember Cate’s feelings about the gray-eyed woman who’d taken her under her wing and opened the world up to her. It was an intense love Jessie had never expected to feel in her life. It was deep, meaningful and intense, and so very important to Cate’s emotional well-being. This was the kind of love that carried with it a loyalty that not even death could separate. It was a love that surprised Jessie because it reached right out and touched her even in this spirited state. It caressed her like the wind on a warm summer night, filling her with a sense of belonging and joy. She remembered Cate’s memories of the fulfillment of the love, and in doing so, tasted the remnants of a bond that still lingered.

Still lingered. Was that what was drawing her here? Was Cate’s bond with Maeve so strong that Jessie was actually remembering it? It had to be. It was the only explanation.

Well, she may not know where Gaul was, but she knew enough to realize it was this bond that sent Cate into an unknown future she knew nothing of; a future as unfamiliar to her as the fortieth century would be to Jessie. It wouldn’t have mattered to Cate which century she walked into; their love spanned thousands of years, in countless people, and existed in hundreds of ages. One of those ages was where Cate was now. With Maeve.

Rolling over, Jessie opened one eye and looked at the clock. It was a little after six in the morning and her dreams hung in the air like the smell of sleep.

“Maeve,” Jessie muttered, rolling back over and staring at the ceiling. Suddenly, both eyes sprang open and Jessie sat straight up. “I remember!” She remembered her dream, her feelings, the thoughts she’d had while discovering Cate’s memories. “She’s doing it for you,” Jessie said, realizing that her dream may not have been a dream at all. “But what is it? What is so important that you’d come to me, of all people, and ask for help?” Lying back down, Jessie stared at the ceiling recalling every detail, every phrase, every single piece of information she could about her dream. Once she was able to squeeze as much information out her mind, she rolled over and wrote it in her journal.

So I must keep wondering, why me? Of all the times and all the people Cate could have ventured to, why did she choose me? It’s hard feeling worthy of a task (whatever that task is) when I’ve done nothing but screw up my own life. Now, I’m afraid of doing that to someone else. I’m afraid I might not have what it takes. And then I stop and wonder how can I even impact the past? It’s already happened. I can’t change any of it. Or can I? There’s so much I need to know and I only have a fraction of the information needed. Does Ceara have any of the answers to my questions? Am I even asking the right ones?

All I know so far is that this involves Maeve . . . Maeve, and a fear that hovers near Cate’s heart. But what is that fear and what can I do about it from here?

I better go. The more questions I ask that go unanswered, the more confused I become.

Having written down everything she could remember, she took a shower, and started down the stairs, just in time to run into Reena on the landing.

“Going out?” Reena’s voice was tight.

Jessie blinked for a second, then opted for the truth. “Yeah. I’m going to see a boy about some drugs.”

“Jess . . .”

“I’m messing with you, Mother. I’m going to Del’s for some coffee. No offense, but neither you nor Dad can make a decent pot.”

“Del’s?”

Jessie shook her head. “Ceara mentioned him, remember? The donut shop down the street? You need to get out more. You or Dad want anything while I’m there?”

“When will you be back?”

“Soon. I know there’s flooring that needs to come out of three B, and I’ll be back to help Dad out with that. I promise.”

“Jess . . . about last night . . .”

“Let it go, Mom, really. Just give me the blank slate we came here for, and let’s call it a day.”

“I’m trying.”

“So am I. I’ll be right back.” Jamming down the stairs, Jessie quickly made her way down Morning Glory Drive and into Del’s Donuts.

Del walked over to her and poured her a cup of coffee in a new mug that had the stars and the moon on one side and an oak tree on the other. Her own name was painted down the handle of the mug. “I’m afraid to tell you this, Jessie, but this makes you a regular now.”

Jessie stared at the hand-painted mug before looking up at Del. “Where’d you get this?”

“Beats me. Showed up here yesterday. My guess is that Tanner’s taken a liking to you.” Del walked back behind the counter and pushed a cinnamon roll into the microwave, leaving Jessie to admire the artwork of the mug. By the looks of it, this was not from Tanner. This mug felt more like Ceara.

When the microwave dinged and Del brought the cinnamon roll over, Jessie cleared her throat and asked, “Del, you pretty much know just about everyone in town, don’t you?”

“Anyone worth knowing, sure.”

“You know a little druggie named Chris?”

Del paused long enough to give away his answer. “Same kid’s been hanging out with your little brother?”

Jessie nodded. “Yep.”

“He causin’ trouble?”

Jessie shook her head. “Not after this morning, he won’t be. Where does he hang out?”

“He and the kids like to hang out at the pier—you know, watch the boats come in and see the fish all gutted and cut up for steaks.”

“What time do they roll in?”

Del looked at the wall clock. “Near nine. Just about the time you finish your second cup.”

Jessie stabbed her cinnamon roll and slid over to the center of the booth so she could watch the town unfold from its sleepiness. Del returned to behind the counter, leaving her to her thoughts. She enjoyed her quiet time in the coffee shop, away from circular saws, jigsaws and paint fumes. Of course, a month ago, if someone had told her she was going to become a regular at a coffee shop, she would have laughed in their faces. But here she was at eight something in the morning, drinking the best coffee in town, eating the best cinnamon roll she had ever had, and waiting to scare the crap out some little boy.

Life was looking up.

“Mind if I give you some advice?”

“Be my guest.”

“You and your folks came to town, and the next thing we know, you’re hanging out with the two characters who are the most talked about. Now, I’ve got nothin’ against Ceara or Tanner—as a matter of fact, they’re both nice as can be, but folks in a small town like this do an awful lot of talking, and they see things one way and one way only. You follow me?”

“Guilt by association.”

Del nodded. “Yup. Wish it weren’t so, but that’s the lay of the land. You can fight it or accept it, but that’s life in a small town. So long as you hang out with them, folks are going to talk about it and that talk will eventually reach your folks if it hasn’t already.”

“Talk is cheap, Del, and so are the opinions of those gossip mongers.”

Del grinned. “I had a daughter just like you a while back, and she nearly drove me insane. I’ll bet you enjoy making your parents nuts.”

Jessie smiled. “I try my best. I just see it as part of my job.”

“Well, take it from a man who’s been around the block. People’s perceptions are their reality, no matter how much kids your age like to believe you don’t care what anyone thinks, the fact is, some day, you’ll realize we all have to care at some time or another.”

“I’ll take that under advisement. Anything else?”

“Yeah. No matter what anyone tells you, Ceara is not some crazy old lady. She’s a quality person, and if she’s chosen to befriend you, then you’re a lucky gal. Just know that people will talk. But then, people will always talk.”

“Thanks, Del.” Jessie looked out the window and saw three of the boys who had been hanging out with Daniel. “I’ll be right back,” she said, scooting out of the booth. When she was outside, she called out to the boys to see which one would answer. “Hey Chris!”

A lanky brunet turned around as she jogged up to the group. “You’re Danny’s sister.”

Jessie looked over at the other two boys and jerked her head toward the pier. “I have some business with Chris, so beat it for a sec, will ya?” The two boys took off toward the pier, never even looking back. “Daniel told me about the conversation you two had the other day.” Jessie fought to keep the anger from her voice.

“Yeah. So?” Jamming his hands in his pockets, Chris tried for indifference, but was far too affected.

Jessie stepped closer to him so that she towered over him. “I have an instant message for you and your buddies. If you ever go near my little brother again, I’ll kick your ass so hard, you’ll be a hunchback.”

“Wha—?”

Grabbing his sweatshirt so he couldn’t run, she pulled him to her face. “Don’t screw with me, little boy, because I’m crazy. Living and dying are all the same to me, so taking your sorry ass to hell with me is no skin off my nose. And if you think I’m playing around here, then you’re dumber than you look. Stay the hell away from my brother.”

Chris’s eyes bugged, but he managed a nod.

“Repeat what I said, you little creep, so we’re very clear what’s gonna happen if you mess around with my brother.”

“You—you’ll kick my ass so hard, I’ll be a hunchback.”

Jessie released him. “Don’t forget it, either, because I’m not bluffing. I’ll take you out like that.” Jessie snapped her fingers for emphasis. The moment she did, a wave of warm washed over her and she no longer stood near the pier on the Oregon coast, but next to a dock on an ancient island watching a man dressed as a soldier fall to the ground holding his bleeding back. In her hands, she held the bloody dagger that punctured his back, sending him to an early, yet well-deserved grave. Looking across the fallen soldier, she saw Maeve, who had been grabbed by the dying soldier as he struggled to hang onto his life.

“Are you injured?”

Maeve shook her head. Her eyes held no fear—only sadness—a great, great sadness. “Your brother taught you well. Come with me now. We cannot stay here.”

“But the fight—”

And suddenly, Jessie was back at the pier, sans dagger, without Maeve, without Roman soldiers. Without . . .

Roman?

Shaking her head, Jessie looked up and saw that Chris had rejoined his friends. “Remember what I said!” she yelled. “Crazy!”

As the boys ran away from her, Jessie walked back to Del’s on wobbly legs, feeling as if maybe she’d just spoken the truth.

Suddenly, she wasn’t so sure she’d been bluffing at all.

Jessie couldn’t finish her coffee or her cinnamon roll. All she could do was sit there and stare at the place she stood when she saw something—no, when she felt something from Cate’s past. The fight—she could feel that memory even now, like the aftertaste of blood after spitting into the bowl at the dentist’s office. She could also taste the fear, the incredible fear that he was going to hurt Maeve.

He had wanted to kill her. He would have, too.

But it appeared Cate won that round.

Staring into her now lukewarm coffee, Jessie wondered aloud. “Who were you, Maeve, and why was that soldier after you?” Pushing her cinnamon roll to the edge of the table, Jessie checked her watch. She needed to get back to the inn, but she had to get her wind back. That vision, or whatever it was, had swept the strength from her legs, and she’d practically collapsed when she got back to the booth. Inhaling several deep breaths, she steadied herself. She, or Cate, rather, had killed a man. She had stabbed him in the back because she feared he would hurt Maeve—or worse. That fear clung to Jessie now like thistles on her pant legs.

“You gave Chris quite a tongue-lashing.”

Glancing up at Del, Jessie shrugged. “I don’t care about much, but my little brother means the world to me, and anyone who does anything to try to hurt her, will meet the sharp end of my sword.”

The look on Del’s face was one of amused confusion. “Her?”

Jessie felt like Del looked. “I meant him, of course.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to tick you off, Jessie, especially if you’re carrying a sword.”

When Del walked away, Jessie stared out the window for a little while longer, wondering what was happening to her. Would she become totally confused about which reality was hers, or was this just a remnant slapping her head to remind her of Cate and what needed to be done? There was only one thing she knew for certain:

It was time to see Ceara.

“See you tomorrow, Del,” Jessie said, rising. Five minutes later, she was sitting at the table in the center of Ceara’s parlor, replaying what had happened to her when she was out by the pier. When she finished, Ceara patted the hands she’d kept folded up on the table to keep from trembling. “You just sit tight while I go make us some tea. And Jessie?”

“Yes?”

“Try not to be afraid. Nothing can hurt you.”

Jessie breathed deeply, leaning back in the large overstuffed chair that matched the one Ceara had just vacated. The parlor looked like something from a movie set. It was far too dark to see much more than directly in front of you; there were incense burners everywhere, most with burning incense in them, and there were bookcases filled with worn leather-bound books. On one of the shelves were crystals, metallic and stone objects, and several worn tarot sets that had “gypsy” written all over it. The only thing missing was a—

“Crystal ball?” Ceara asked, as she returned to her chair. “I discovered a long time ago that people have certain perceptions we must honor if we are ever to truly communicate with each other. When I first opened up, this place was painted light yellow, the window shades were open, and I wore regular clothing. Needless to say, it did not work very well. I made changes based on perceptions, and ever since then, I’ve managed quite well.”

Jessie blushed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t really mean—”

Ceara waved her off, as was her manner. “Don’t be silly. See? You have the same idea of what you think a tarot reader’s space should look like. My business quadrupled once I redecorated the room according to what people wanted to see when they walked in here. You can fight some preconceived notions all you want, but there are others that are so ingrained, it’s best to just live with them.” Ceara rose when the teakettle blew. “But listen to me chattering on. When I return, we’ll discuss your vision.”

This was now a part of her memory bank, as if Cate had made a deposit Jessie now had to live with. It felt no different than the memory of Jill Britton falling off her bike when they were eight, and cutting her leg open. No different than smoking cigars before the junior prom. Etched into her memory like those she had actually lived, Cate’s memories were now every bit as real.

Returning to the table with two steaming cups of cinnamon tea, Ceara set one in front of Jessie. “I figured this would go well with your cinnamon roll.”

Jessie’s head jerked up. “How did you—”

Ceara chuckled. “Oh, honey, it’s nothing as romantic as my powers. I was at Del’s this morning and he was making a new batch for his regular customers. He likes you.” Sitting down, Ceara smiled softly. “But then, you’re easy to like.”

Jessie shrugged and looked away.

“It would be easier to accept the compliment if you liked yourself. You came here to start fresh, yet you haven’t quite forgiven yourself, have you?”

“I royally screwed up, Ceara.”

This made her chuckle. “Haven’t we all? The key is to learn from it, rub your sore spot for a minute and then let it go. I sense you haven’t completed step three.”

Jessie sighed. Wasn’t that what teen angst was all about? How to get from A to B in the liking your true self game? “If I hadn’t messed up so much, Daniel wouldn’t be hanging around turds like Chris, and—”

“Did it ever occur to you that screwing up is what brought you to Cate? What if that was the only way to get you to Oregon?”

“I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

“That’s what lessons are for: so we can move to the next square in the game, and maybe, just maybe, we can pull a Chance card or get out of jail free.”

“I’m just about out of chances.”

“Pshaw. Chance is what we make it. Don’t you see? You’ve been chosen for bigger and better things, Jessie Ferguson. Embrace your mistakes. They are what brought you here. Everything in your life is about to change. Don’t you find that exciting?” Ceara sipped her tea.

“I imagine I would if my parents could see that change as well.”

“Don’t you worry. They will. Now then, why don’t you tell me about Maeve.”

Jessie’s face instantly brightened. “Maeve. Cate loves her very much and it goes beyond them just being friends or Druids. She loves her enough to kill a man and feel not a drop of remorse.”

“Are you saying they’re lovers?”

Jessie nodded. “I think so, but I can’t really tell for certain. I don’t know anything about the kind of love people had for each other back then. Maybe they just loved better and more deeply than we do today.”

Ceara steepled her fingers and rested her elbows on the table. “What does your soul tell you they are?”

She didn’t have to think or ponder the question. She knew. She just didn’t yet trust all she thought she knew. “I’m pretty sure they’re lovers.”

“Well then, that might explain a lot, don’t you think? For Cate to cast herself into the portal two thousand years into the future, there would have to be a damn good reason.”

“I think it’s to kill that Roman soldier.”

“And what makes you think the man was a Roman?”

“I know deep within me, deep where Cate lives.”

“Excellent. You’re learning.” Rising, Ceara walked over to one of the jam-packed bookcases and studied them. Running her index across the spines as she walked down the row, she pulled a large tome from the bottom shelf and balanced it on her hip while thumbing through it. “Here it is.” Placing the large, dusty book in front of Jessie, Ceara accidentally sloshed some of Jessie’s tea. “Did he look like this?”

Jessie stared at the picture. “Yes. That is almost exactly what he was wearing.”

Ceara left the book there and returned to her seat. “Cate is reaching you more and more. She must be very strong, indeed.”

“Or desperate.”

“Perhaps both.”

Nodding, Jessie closed the book so she didn’t have to look upon the face of the Roman glaring back at her. Just looking at the picture sent a fear to the pit of her stomach she hadn’t felt since she was busted for the drugs. Reaching for her tea, Jessie steadied her hand. “Maeve is the key.”

“Then it is to these feelings that you must be truly open to hearing. At night, before you sleep, think of Maeve, of those gray eyes, of her demeanor. Focus on Cate’s love for and loyalty to her. Open pathways for Cate to continue pouring her memories into. Do this often, my dear, and soon, you will know everything they want. You’ll know what it is that brings Cate from her time into this one. Open your mind. Practice doing it when you’re painting a room or taking a bath. Be vigilant, Jessie, and Cate will eventually reach you.”

Jessie sighed and nodded. “I’m trying.”

Ceara grinned. “Jessie, both you and Cate have access to the seam. I think what happened was that she came through it looking for someone, anyone who might feel her. She gave you just enough of a push that you returned to the seam and went through on your own. By going through, you communicated to her you weren’t afraid and that you were receptive to her. Your soul was open enough for her to return to it, in this time. For whatever reason, you’re more open than your soul might have been in seventeen-twelve or eight hundred AD. She tossed herself into the abyss in a desperate search for that piece of her which might, just might be open to reception. The only question remaining is: are you going to pull her from that abyss?”

“There’s no question about it, Ceara. I’m in this until the bitter end. Maeve needs me, and I have no intention of letting her down. I will do whatever needs to be done.”

Ceara studied her a second. “You have a doubt.”

Jessie shrugged. “Not really a doubt—just a question. Why Maeve wasn’t the one to come through. If she needs me so badly, why didn’t she come?”

“You’re beginning to think like one.”

“One what?”

“Druid. Your questions are not as naïve as they were a few days ago.”

Jessie reflected back to when Maeve had cautioned Cate about blurting words out. “I’m changing. I’m—different.”

Ceara nodded. “Indeed. To answer your question, we have no way of knowing if Maeve has the power to use the portal. Only very powerful Druid priests and priestesses have that kind of power. You must remember that Cate and you share the same soul, not you and Maeve. It was up to Cate to reach you.”

Jessie nodded and tried not to look at the book before her. “So, what now?”

Ceara sipped her tea and looked out over the top of the rim. “Well, don’t you think it’s time for her to know that you’re on her side? That you hear her?”

“And how do I do that?”

Ceara set her tea down and smiled softly. “You must go back through the seam with the singular intent of letting her know. You must be stronger and braver than you have ever been. I can help you be both, but once you go across time, you will have to stand on your own two feet. Do you think you’re ready for that?”

Jessie nodded. “More than you’ll ever know.”

The Otherworld.

It was neither heaven nor hell, nor Nirvana, nor Purgatory. It wasn’t the Dreamworld, though it often felt like one. It was a special place where Druid priests and priestesses transported themselves in order to gain guidance and wisdom from the inhabitants of that world. To those who had the knowledge and the power, it was an accessible world easily reached, but difficult to truly comprehend. It was not a place for the faint of heart or disbelievers. The Otherworld was a place more real than the very ground they walked upon now, yet that reality was more fluid than the Thames, and just as transforming. It was a special place Lachlan and Maeve were sending Cate to now.

“Do not be frightened,” Maeve said as Cate’s head bobbed slightly. Leaning closer, Maeve whispered in Cate’s ear. “I am always with you. I will always be by your side.” With that, Maeve withdrew and stood next to Lachlan, who lifted a questioning eyebrow.

“I shall never truly understand what it is you see in her, Maeve, to be so frustratingly devoted to her.”

Maeve did not take her eyes off the entranced Cate. “Lachlan, have you never met someone and known, with every fiber of your being that your place is with them, no matter where they go or what they do, and in whatever capacity? And that, no matter what happens through the ages, this is how it is supposed to be; how it will always be?”

“If I had, Maeve, I most surely would have married her.”

Maeve shook her head. “Marriage is merely a legal ceremony, Lachlan, that has little to do with two souls who fit together. My bond with Cate is not a male and female connection that we desire in our society. Ours is a love that spans the centuries, which has no end. I cannot explain, nor would I if I could. But the very first moment I saw her watching me with those wild-girl eyes of hers, I knew she and I had had quite a lengthy sojourn in this world and others. I knew then, but could not act upon any of my feelings until she was old enough to understand who we are to each other; who we always have been and always will be.”

“She often tried your patience where that was concerned.”

Maeve smiled softly at the memories. “She wanted more than she could have at the time.”

Lachlan sighed. “She is still so young.”

“We were young, once. I see more in her than you ever will because that is the nature of our relationship. If there is anyone who can save us, it is she.”

“There is still so much for her to learn.”

“You cannot learn love, Lachlan, and that is one reason your father failed at using the portal. He thought knowledge alone would finally answer the question that haunted him all these years. But love is stronger than knowledge. It is a lesson you must learn if you are ever to lead our people away from the despair that is chasing us. It is Cate’s love for me that has helped us succeed where others have failed. She will stop at nothing to ensure my safety; our safety. That love has the power to unlock the doors holding prisoner our answers.”

Lachlan looked down at Maeve and shook his head. “You traveled all the way from Gaul because you knew she was here. Have you ever told her that?”

Maeve shook her head. “She believes what everyone else does: that I came here in search of you.”

“Why have you not told her? All these years, and you never told her of your vision in Gaul?”

“Deep within, she knows, but I have never told her because I have never wanted her to feel obligated, as if I had given something up in order to come to her. I saw her here, and I came. That is all that matters.” Maeve turned to look up at Lachlan. Though they had had this conversation a dozen times, she always got the impression that Lachlan was hoping her feelings for him might change; that somehow, he could overcome ages of love Maeve’s and Cate’s souls had shared. Even for a Druid priest, Lachlan was still a man—and men, she knew, seldom accepted when a woman chose another woman over them. She wondered if it were still so in Jessie’s world.

“That seems a long time ago.”

“It was. And now, all of her training and our hard work need come to fruition.”

“Well, let us see what happens in the Otherworld. There, she will gather what guidance and wisdom we have not been able to afford her—if she is truly ready.”

Maeve knelt down and gently stroked Cate’s face. “She’s truly ready, aren’t you, love?” she whispered. “Seek our answers in the Otherworld, but come back. You belong here and nowhere else.”

The Otherworld.

Before Cate knew what was happening to her, she was there. She wasn’t sure how, exactly, how she knew, but she did. All those days of training, of learning, of working to this day, and here it was. Maeve and Lachlan had sent her where she had always longed to go.

It was not, however, quite what Cate had expected.

While she was not surprised to be standing within a stone enclosure not unlike that of Stonehenge, she was greatly surprised by the midday sun looming overhead and the mists of a waterfall surrounding water cascading into a calm pool. A fire burned in a fire pit surrounded by level stones for sitting. What surprised Cate was how utterly normal it was. She had expected—

“Mt. Olympus, perhaps?” When a robed figure appeared, Cate turned and bowed. She knew her name to be Blodwin, the Celtic Welsh Maid of Initiation. It was she Cate had prayed to before taking her tests, before learning all the wonders the craft had to offer. Blodwin had come to Cate on many occasions in her Dreamworld, but this was the first time Cate had sought her out.

“It is so—regular. I suppose I expected grandeur, yes.”

Blodwin nodded and something close to a grin twitched on her lips. “Grandeur has never been our way, Cate. This—” Blodwin stretched her arms wide, her long auburn tresses unmoving as she did so—“is all we ever need.”

Cate looked around knowingly. “Indeed. I thank you for allowing me entrance.”

“No one allows it. You came because you have the ability to do so. Unfortunately, you come seeking answers I cannot give.” Her presence was both peaceful and unsettling. She was, after all, a student of two of the most powerful Druids on the whole of the island. She was prepared for things of this nature, regardless of how unnerving the experience.

“I have not come seeking answers from you. I have come to learn if there is more I can do to help Jessie remember. Surely, you can help me help her.”

Blodwin motioned for Cate to sit beside the fire burning brightly at the edge of the forest, before taking her place on a stone next to her. Her energy was powerful, her strength and wisdom tangible. “You believe we can be of assistance.”

Cate nodded. “Lachlan and Maeve believe it as well or they would not have sent me.” Cate studied the statuesque woman with her aquiline nose and clear blue eyes. She was the embodiment of all Cate ever wanted to be.

“You understand they are using the future to alter the present. They are attempting something only the goddesses should do.”

Cate inhaled slowly, breathed out, and then shook her head. “If the goddesses can allow men like Julius Caesar and Suetonius Paulinus to run our people through and violently tear our heritage from our breast, then surely they can give us a chance to save ourselves from certain destruction. Or are they as cruel as the Jewish God, who torments his people in order to test their faith?”

Blodwin grinned. It was not a loving or warm grin, but one of appreciation. “Well-spoken from such a thing of tender years, but insulting the goddesses will not gain you favor.”

“Then it is good that I am not searching for favor. I help. It is what I do. It is my purpose here in this time. Oftimes, to be helpful one must get help. I shall go where help is offered. If you have none, then I am wasting my time; and time, I am afraid, is not an ally.”

Cate started to rise, but Blodwin held out a hand to stop her. “You are as they say, but you do not realize the danger of tampering with time.”

“I am always in danger, Blodwin. By my very existence on this planet, I live with death every day. I am trying to save a way of life far older than any the Greeks or Romans can even conceive of. The rules of reality, of time, must be twisted to save that which the Romans are bent on destroying. If you cannot or will not aid me in my quest, then I must go elsewhere. But to ask me to fear something I live with daily is a silly request indeed.”

Blodwin bristled at this, her erect posture signaling her disapproval. “The danger you seek to avoid is not directed at you.”

Cate shook her head. “Not directly, no. I could live through the Roman onslaught, but I wish to do so with Maeve at my side. I’ll stop at nothing to make sure she is.”

Blodwin sighed. “Your anam cara you carry within you is tangible. It is so strong, you and your Maeve have managed to find each other throughout many, many incarnations. I find it admirable and will not turn you away empty-handed, but you must be aware that time is unforgiving. What you are doing is a dangerous thing for more than just your people.”

“I am aware.”

“Are you aware that it could destroy your mind? One cannot manipulate their place in time without knowing the extent of the repercussions for doing so. Are you equally aware of those?”

Cate raised an eyebrow. “What do I know not?”

Blodwin reached down and tossed a stick into the flame. “Others before you have attempted to pass from this time to another, many for reasons far better than yours. Many never returned, even more went mad. One’s soul is often not strong enough to accept so much new and incredible information, so it closes down completely.” Blodwin tossed another stick into the greedy fire. “Be certain of the risks you are willing to take, Cate, and why you are taking them. There is another being across time who deserves that you truly consider the harm you might do her.”

Cate sat down. She had never thought about how this was touching Jessie’s life. How unfair it was to drag this poor young girl into a time she could not possibly understand.

“I see you had not considered the person who shares your soul.”

Cate shook her head. “I had not. I assumed she did not mind since she let me in.”

“Are you making assumptions about her letting you in? How much do you know about this one so far in a future you could never imagine? Do you know if she is strong? Is she strong enough, wise enough, sane enough to handle what it means to have your memories brought to life within her? You’ve made some very large assumptions, Cate, without ever considering the incredible alteration of her life and what it means to be a quester.”

Cate sighed, suddenly very weary. “I hadn’t—”

Blodwin eyed her warily. “Perhaps you ought to think more about her as well. Your memories in her life could alter her world forever. You could be entering the mind of someone wholly unprepared for the incredible task you seek to fulfill. Is it fair to do so without telling her all that is involved? Regardless of your intentions, Cate, she ought to know the risks. You can only pursue this course with integrity, or you will find yourself facing a mountain of failure.”

Nodding, Cate swallowed hard. She had been so selfish. “She deserves as much, yes.”

“Good. As for stopping Paulinus,” Blodwin went on, “do you really believe you can stop an entire Roman legion?”

Cate shook her head. “You are assuming that stopping him is my intention.”

“Is it not?”

Cate shook her head again. “No, it is not. We are sure that Suetonius Paulinus makes his mark in history somehow. We want to know if we are the ones who pay the price for his fame, and if so, can we save lives and prevent him from completely destroying our way of life? We could kill him, of course, but that would accomplish little. The Romans feel the Druids are a threat to their ability to take over all of Britannia. One evil will be replaced by another; so killing the man might only put us in even greater jeopardy. Our goal is to save lives and our heritage. We wish to preserve our way with as little bloodshed as possible.”

“With Paulinus’s head on a pike, if it comes to that?”

Cate shrugged. “If it comes to that, but that would only be a temporary solution to the larger issue. The Romans want Britain. They will destroy anyone trying to prevent them from having it.”

Blodwin picked up a third twig and snapped it in two. Handing Cate half, Blodwin kept the other. “You are attempting to leap ahead into the person who lives in a time when no one even knows or cares about the recent past, let alone the past of their very own souls. She lives in a time when the one God has taken over many parts of the world, making so many people believe there is but one path for the soul to travel. To reach through to a person with such indoctrination, you must be completely vulnerable to her. You must allow her the opportunity to see you from within yourself. In short, you must pull her deep within you so she can know, in the deepest corners of her heart, why she is needed and what the risks are in answering your call. Perhaps only then will you succeed in your quest.”

Cate nodded. “And the risks to her? Are they the same as they are for me?”

Blodwin stared into the heart of the fire. “There are those who attempted such as you are attempting, but they did not return. Oft, they became locked, as it were, in the mind and body of the one they sought out. Other times, they became lost in the eternal void of time. Still others simply died because their bodies did not know how to exist without the soul. There are many ways the seam of time can fold up on you, destroying any chance for return. Should that happen to you, your body in this time will be spiritless, and eventually, it will die. And yes, the same risks are involved for Jessie.”

Cate inhaled deeply. “Can I keep that from happening?”

Blodwin looked at Cate for a long time before answering. “I cannot say. Just know that it has happened, and it can and will happen again.” Blodwin rose and pulled her robe tightly around her. “Being vulnerable, Cate, is the only way to truly understand another being. Open your mind and heart up to her completely, and if she recognizes what she sees, if she knows the truth about what she might be stepping into, then there is a chance you could accomplish your goal.”

“And if not?”

Blodwin replaced her hood. “Then anything may happen. Go now. If you return to the portal and do what I have told you to do, you might save the lives you risk so much for. I wish you well.”

As Cate rose, Blodwin stopped suddenly and turned around. “Cate?”

“Yes?”

“Be not so careless when next you speak of the goddesses. It is you who serve them, and not they who serve you.”

As Blodwin disappeared into a fog, Cate sighed. If the goddesses cared, then she would be served well. If they did not, and allowed the Romans to succeed, then Cate doubted the goddesses would ever be heard from again.

When Jessie returned home, she found Rick and Reena waiting again for her in the parlor. They did not look pleased.

“What now?” Jessie sighed, sitting across from them on the new sofa they’d purchased a couple of days ago.

“We’ve had a visit from one of Daniel’s new friends’ parents. They were very upset, and we can’t blame them.”

“About what?”

Rick leaned forward, knees on his elbows. “They said you threatened to beat up their son.”

Jessie leaned forward in the mirror image of her father. “Did they tell you why?”

“Of course they did.” Rick leaned back as if punched. “How could you? He’s just a kid, Jess. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Doesn’t Daniel mean anything to you?  That Chris is a troublemaker. I just told him—”

“We know what you told him, Jessie,” Reena added. “And now, you’ve reached a new low. Just when we thought you were sincere about starting fresh, you pull this.”

Jessie sat up. “What, exactly, did they say?”

“They said you threatened to beat Chris up if he didn’t get you some dope.”

“That’s a lie!” Jessie was on her feet instantly. “Ask Daniel! That little chickenshit has been pressuring Daniel to try dope and to find my stash so he could skim some and sell it. Ask Daniel. He’ll tell you the truth. Daniel!” She called.

Reena shook her head sadly. “Your Aunt Sally came to take him to the coast for a couple of days. We—we just can’t put him through this again.”

Jessie shook her head angrily. “There is no this! I’m telling the truth! That Chris kid—”

Rick held up his hand. “Save it and sit down. Your mother and I are tired of being lied to and manipulated by you, but this, this is just about the worst thing you’ve ever done. Do you have any idea the harm that you could do in a community like this one?”

“Dad, just listen—”

“Sit down!” Rick inhaled deeply and lowered his voice. “I think that’s where your mother and I have been making our mistakes with you. We’ve been listening more than parenting. Well, it’s time to parent, and you’re not going to like what that means.”

Jessie hated psychobabble, but parent psychobabble was the worst. “What more can you do to me? You’ve moved me to the boondocks, where the only kid who could possibly understand me has already been judged by you. You’re working me and Daniel to the bone every damn day. What more do you want? What does parenting mean this time?”

Rick and Reena stared at each other before Rick slowly turned back to Jessie. “It means fulfilling the rest of the court order from California. You have an appointment with a psychiatrist this afternoon.”

Jessie sat down slowly on the couch feeling like she’d been kicked in the stomach. “I thought all that court-ordered crap was over.”

Reena shook her head. “It could have been, but after this . . . well . . . we had hoped you might like it here and learn to get along. But it’s obvious that two weeks was not long enough. We think—”

“I can’t believe this! You’re hanging this over my head like a guillotine!”

“We think it’s best, Jess, and no matter how mature you believe yourself to be, we’re the adults here, and we’re making the right decision.”

Jessie’s heart banged in her chest. “I don’t want to see a shrink. I don’t need to!”

“Honey, you’ve made it clear you don’t like it here, and you won’t talk to us about it, so maybe you’ll talk to someone else.”

Jessie felt dizzy. This was not at all what she had expected when she came home. “Look, this kid—”

“Jess, you need to let that go. Your actions around that little boy are symptomatic of your deeper problems.”

“Symp-to-ma-tic?” Jessie slowly shook her head. “You reading Freud or something? Symptomatic of what? Drug use?”

“What we’re dealing with now is your anger about moving, and how it’s causing you to act out. And if threatening a little boy isn’t acting out, we don’t know what is.”

“Wait. Have you even met Chris?”

“No. And we don’t need to.”

“Honey, you don’t even deny threatening him. Don’t you see?”

“What I see is that you’re taking the word of a little asshole over your own daughter.”

She wanted to scream. She wanted to run down the stairs screaming like a madwoman and pulling her hair out. “Look—”

Jessie’s words died on her tongue. Suddenly, she realized that everything Del and Ceara had said to her earlier was true. No words could change her parents’ opinion about who she was. Their perception was borne of her earlier deceit, her earlier facades and insincerities. Nothing she could say would magically make them trust her. Her mistakes were all they could see. And even though she knew that little jerk Chris was lying, her past made that impossible to prove. Suspicious of everything she was and everything she did, they no longer trusted her around the one thing she loved most in the world: Daniel.

If she hadn’t wanted to cry so badly, she would have laughed. In trying to protect Daniel, she had driven him away, and returned her parents’ well-fed paranoia to its proper place. Could her life get any more ironic?

Taking the slip her mother held out for her, Jessie looked at the two o’clock appointment with Dr. Leslie Uhl. “Fine,” she said, stuffing the slip in her pocket. “But you need to call Daniel and ask him what really happened. It’s only fair you get the truth from him since you don’t want to believe me. He’ll tell you what Chris is all about.”

Rick’s eyes looked even sadder than when she walked in. “We did talk to Daniel, honey.”

This rocked her. “And?”

“And he said Chris was okay.”

Jessie felt her blood thin. “Did you tell him what Chris said about me?”

“We told you,” Reena added, “We’re not going to drag your little brother through your mud.”

“You didn’t ask him about me at all?”

“We asked him what he thought of his new friend, Chris, and he told us that Chris was okay.”

“Did you even ask him about the whole drug thing?”

Rick shook his head. “It would crush him to know you were still in that sort of life. He believes in you. He believes the promises you made to him.”

“How do you know I promised him anything?”

Rick sighed. “Daniel told me a couple of days ago how he thought you were finally better. He told me you’d promised him you were through with drugs.”

Reena sniffed back her tears. “How could you, Jess. You know he adores you.”

Jessie’s spine straightened. “I. Am. Not. In. That. Life. Anymore.” Jessie’s jaw hurt from gritting her teeth so hard. “I can’t believe this.” Standing, she paced over to the fireplace. “So, you sent him away without even asking him anything? You just naturally assumed that little doper Chris is an innocent cherub.”

“What was there to ask, Jessie? Daniel doesn’t seem to think there is anything wrong with that boy. He stood here and told Chris’s Dad that he . . .”

Jessie turned on her mother. “You asked him in front of the kid’s Dad?” Jessie hit her forehead with the heel of her hand. “Are you two nuts? What did you expect him to say in front of the kid’s Dad? How about, Well, gee, Mr. Nimrod, your drug-addled son is pushing dope on me? Unbelievable.” Jessie shook her head. “Absolutely unbelievable.”

“That’s enough.”

Jessie nodded. “It sure is. I’ll be in my room.” Grabbing the keys from the kitchen, Jessie started up the stairs. “I’ll see your shrink at two, but I guaran-damn-tee you, she won’t like what she hears.”

Jessie ignored her father’s pleas to talk to them, choosing, instead, to do the only thing that made any sense to her. At least, on the other side of time, there were people who loved her and cared about her, and believed in her. They believed in her so much, they sent her across time to help them. More than ever, Jessie was ready to find a way to let Cate know she would do whatever she could to help her out.

Slipping the key into the numberless door, Jessie took a deep breath before opening it. Whatever was happening somewhere in time was sure as hell better than what she was enduring now. Jessie stepped into the room, closed the door behind her, and entered a world that was becoming more familiar to her with every single day.

When Cate opened her eyes, Lachlan and Maeve were squatting down in front of her, watching her with concern.

“You have returned to us at last,” Maeve said softly.

Cate nodded, feeling lightheaded and hungry. She had never been a big eater, but since she started her quest, she discovered that hunger came along shortly after she finished. “I am happy to see you,” she said, as Maeve helped her to her feet.

“Well?” Lachlan asked with impatience.

“Hush, Lachlan,” Maeve scolded. “Let her return to us completely before you interrogate her.”

Cate rose and looked about. It felt as if she were seeing the woods for the first time. It wasn’t that they were unfamiliar, as much as they were awe-inspiring. “Jessie is trying,” she whispered, realizing that, at this moment, she was not quite alone in her spirit. “She knows about you, Maeve. She knows I have made contact with her. She knows she is needed. She knows.”

“Excellent,” Maeve answered, pulling Cate to her in a warm embrace. “I had no doubt you could do it.”

“What happened in there, Cate?” Lachlan blurted out at last.

Cate swallowed hard. She had gone from the Otherworld to Jessie’s world. Had she intended to do so? She could not remember going to the portal. What had happened after she spoke with Blodwin? “A great many things, Lachlan, but mostly I now know I can do what you are asking me to do, and so can Jessie.” Suddenly, Cate’s face fell.

“Catie, what is it?”

Cate blinked trying to hold back the tears, but they came anyway. “It’s not me. It’s Jessie.” Cate shook her head sadly. “Like us, Jessie is persecuted at every turn. She tries to be free, but there are chains binding her. She is attempting to throw off these chains to help us, but she is so young, still. She’ll need help, but she is telling me she is with us.”

“Did you discover this in the Otherworld?”

Maeve tossed Lachlan a look of her own impatience, but Cate lightly touched her arm and shook her head. “No. Jessie was not there. She has come through the portal.”

“Do you mean—”

“Yes. She is here with me now, as part of me. Perhaps all of me. I can feel her, and her life’s memories—as if I, too, had eaten a—cinnamon roll this morning.”

Lachlan and Maeve looked at each other in silence.

“Blodwin visited me in the Otherworld and told me I must allow Jessie to freely see me for who I am, and when I do that, it might embolden her to be stronger and braver in her attempts to contact me. Already, her courage is mounting.”

“It must be from Blodwin’s help.” Lachlan pushed his hood back.

Cate shook her head. “I am afraid Blodwin cares not to assist me, and perhaps I slighted her in a minor digression about the goddesses, but nonetheless, Jessie has already become stronger—without Blodwin’s assistance.”

Maeve laid her hand on Cate’s shoulder. “Is it odd?”

Cate nodded. “To see pictures in your mind that you have never really seen, and trying to make sense of what they all are, well that is very strange, indeed. To know that the one I have contacted is so young and not so very wise is also very strange. It might have been easier if she were a priestess of some sort, but she is not. She is just a brave young girl willing to risk her life.”

“Risks. I like not the sound of that, Catie. Is there more to what you are saying?”

Cate could feel Lachlan’s eyes boring into her, and knew if she told Maeve the truth, she would put an end to her attempts here and now. “Blodwin reminded me of the risks involved, and I do understand them better. Jessie is so far in the future, I cannot conceive of most of what is in her mind. It will be much easier if I allow her access to mine.”

Lachlan stared at her. “If Jessie is so far in the future so much so that you cannot understand what you see, she must be much further ahead than we realized. Are you sure she is the one?”

“She is the only one, Lachlan. She is the right choice. I know her. I hear her.”

“What—what does she say?” Maeve whispered.

Cate closed her eyes and listened to her own spirit now embedded with memories of a world she knew nothing about. After several minutes went by, she opened her eyes and grinned. “She wants to know what it is we need from her. She believes she is ready.”

“Outstanding!” Lachlan said, rubbing his hands together. “At last. At long last.”

Maeve cut her eyes over at him and silenced him immediately. “And what of these risks Blodwin shared with you, Catie? What are they?”

Cate did not look at Lachlan when she answered. After all, he knew. They knew. Clearing her throat, she answered. “Just those we spoke of earlier, Maeve. Blodwin was preparing me for the potential dangers, but she also believes I am strong enough to overcome those risks. If Jessie has slipped through the portal, now would be a very good time for me to reach out to her. As one in this body, we cannot communicate. We must go where separate communication is possible.”

Nodding, Maeve walked Cate back to the house with Lachlan trailing behind. Once in Maeve’s house, she sat Cate down on the bed she had made for herself. “Lay down and relax, Catie. It will be easier for you to reach her in your Dreamworld than on this plane.” Maeve picked up a bowl and pestle and ground several herbs up in it. Then she sprinkled the dried herbs on Cate’s top lip. “Lay back, breathe deeply, and think of the warmth of the sunlight streaming down upon your face. Inhale softly—slowly—yes, that’s it.” Lightly stroking Cate’s brow with one hand, Maeve held on to the other until she recognized the slight tremors signaling sleep.

Lachlan, who had remained suspiciously silent at the wooden table, rose and paced across the floor. “That did not take long.”

“You know how visits to the Otherworld can sap one’s strength. She is weary. She has not your training nor my prowess. Can you not see the dark circles around her eyes? This is beginning to take a toll on her. Mind you, Lachlan, and mark my words. Catie shall not come to any harm.”

Lachlan sighed. He had to be very careful when speaking with Maeve. She had an uncanny ability to read people. “She knows the risks, Maeve, and is acting accordingly.”

Maeve did not take her eyes off Cate. “In her dreams, in the corner of her mind, Catie is about to meet herself from far, far into the future. How does one ‘act accordingly’ for that?”

“I imagine it must be disconcerting.” Lachlan stared out the window, his voice heavy with regret. “It must be—somewhat terrifying.”

The tone of his voice made Maeve glance over at him. “She is not your mother, Lachlan, and no matter how gifted you believe her to have been, Catie is a far more powerful Druid than ever your mother was.”

Lachlan stiffened. “Speak not of that which you know so little.”

“I know enough to know she should never have gone. Malcolm advised her to cease with her obsession, but she could not, she would not. She had not the sight Cate has. She was powerful, yes, but not like Cate.”

Lachlan’s eyes burned as he stepped nearer to Maeve. “Enough.” His voice was deep and flat.

“Do not presume to command me, Lachlan. I do not appreciate your tone. Catie is not your mother and I am not your subject. You would do well to remember both.”

“I see your fear, Maeve. I know you are not as sure of her as you’d wish me to believe.”

“Catie will return. Of that, I am sure.” Maeve softened her own tone. “I am just sorry your mother was not so fortunate.”

Lachlan nodded and sighed loudly. “In all these years, I have yet to know what she went after. I have never known why she went and how it was that she never returned. She just—left us. Sight or no sight, a woman just does not leave her children.”

“You treat her memory unkindly, Lachlan. Your mother was a strong and knowledgeable healer, but she should never have entered the Sacred Place alone. She was advised—”

“I know what Malcolm told her, Maeve.”

“Then perhaps she never went to the Sacred Place at all that night. Did you not tell me her body was never recovered, that not a trace of her was ever found?”

“Nothing.” Lachlan sighed heavily again. “Not a single stitch of her clothing. Nothing.”

“Then you do not know—”

“I know, Maeve, as a Druid priest would know. As a son would know.”

Maeve took Lachlan’s hand in hers. “It still hurts, I know.”

Lachlan pulled his hand away. “It exists, as she once did, in a place in my heart that will never heal. My only concern now is making sure that Cate does not endure the same fate as my mother.” He stared hard into her eyes. “I would spare you what happened to me, Maeve.”

As the two of them turned around to look at the sleeping Cate, Maeve nodded. “She will not suffer that fate, Lachlan, nor will I. This time—this time we will succeed.”

Jessie wasn’t the least bit surprised to find herself roaming through incredibly old forests of—were they oak trees? They were. Yes. Large, handsome, powerful oaks whose trunks were the diameter of picnic tables and whose leaves were the size of dinner plates.

She knew where she was and felt no fear at the thought of being alone in a forest she knew was far, far from home. Ceara had told her fear could be deadly; that fear forced people to make mistakes and see things that didn’t exist. Fear had no place in her world right now. As foreign and unfamiliar as all of this was, she could not afford to let fear touch her. She must be brave—willing to go wherever she needed to go to understand what was happening.

As she made her way through the forest, she remembered playing basketball her freshman year, and the coach telling her over and over that fear of your opponent made you hesitate, and all who hesitate are lost. She became a better ballplayer once she learned to listen to herself and not let her opponent dictate what she did. Hesitation, in this, wouldn’t mean the end of the game, but the end of—

“My people.”

Jessie stopped still and looked over at the small figure standing between two enormous oak trees. She was wearing a white robe, a smile, and she carried a contorted staff.

Jessie instantly knew who she was.

“Cate.”

The little woman smiled wider as she approached, taking Jessie’s hands in her own. They were warm and soft hands, the hands of a healer.

“I am no healer,” Cate said softly. “I suppose I could be, but I am a Vate, a seer. It is Maeve who is the healer. She is an incredible healer.”

Jessie felt like she knew Cate already, like she was becoming reacquainted with someone who had once been very important to her. It was strange and normal all at the same time. “You knew I’d be here?”

Cate’s smile was like the sun. The air around them got brighter and warmer. “I have faith in you.”

“I haven’t done anything, yet.”

“That is where you are wrong, my friend. No one we know of has ever come as far as you and I, and believe me, we have sent many; and those before us sent many as well. You, alone, have enabled me to come across time and revisit the spirit I once was.”

“Must be really weird,” Jessie said, looking into the light green eyes studying her. She knew so little of Cate, while also knowing so much. The whole thing was weird.

“Weird.” Cate tested the word off her tongue like one would a new flavor. “As in strange or odd?”

Jessie laughed. “Yeah. Pretty strange all this, don’t you think?”

Cate smiled softly. “Speaking to the one who houses my very spirit is an odd thing, indeed, but seeing you, standing here with you is not at all odd. It seems you are an old friend of mine I have not seen in some time.”

Jessie nodded. It did feel so real standing here with her. The smell of the grass, the softness of her hands, the warmth of the sun as it touched her face, all felt so real.

“Because it is real, Jessie,” Cate said, as if knowing Jessie’s thoughts. “Come, walk with me. There is much to discuss, yet so little time.”

Jessie walked next to Cate, trying to take in every sight, every sound, every smell she possibly could. The scent of the forest was so crisp and clean, and the sounds of crickets far louder than any she had heard at home. She wanted to return with these memories, to remember this place and this time with the woman who came through history for her. “Where, exactly, are we?”

Cate walked out to the middle of the grove where a stone temple stood. She inhaled deeply and began. “You came through the portal this time, and I felt your presence right away. You are wiser than I had thought. You are already making this easier.”

“I have help.”

This made Cate grin. “I understand that.”

“But we’re not actually in the portal, are we?”

Cate tilted her face up to the sun and closed her eyes. “No, we are not. We are in my Dreamworld.”

Jessie stared at her. Not until Cate opened her eyes and smiled, did Jessie say anything. “Dreamworld?”

“Come, sit over here and let me begin at the beginning, and perhaps we can make some sense of this for you.”

Jessie nodded, wondering how time was measured in a dream. Would her parents come in to find her near lifeless body in the numberless room, or would mere seconds tick slowly by as she sat in the core of another person’s Dreamworld?

Sitting on a square stone next to Cate, Jessie felt the sun at her back. Her own dreams were not nearly as vivid as the one she was sitting in. Why was that, she wondered.

“Some of this you may know already, depending, of course, on how much you remember from our visits together.”

“Visits. I like that.”

“My people are the Silures, and we live in an area of southwest Britannia. Do you know where that is?”

Jessie nodded. “Britain. But we call it England now.”

“England.” Again, Cate tried the word on for size. “Well, I live in the sixty-first year, and—”

“Wait.” Jessie held her hand up. “You’re living in sixty-one AD?”

Cate cocked her head. “I do not know what AD is, but from what I have culled from you, time is measured from the death of Jesus the Christ. If that is true, then yes, we live in the year sixty-one AD.”

“Holy crap.” Jessie ran her hands through her hair. “You came two thousand years into the future to get me?”

Cate shook her head. “The portal allows one passage to another time, but whether one goes forward or backward has yet to be controlled. The portal merely opens doors to the time stream. Where one ends up depends on who started the quest. I attempted to go into the future. Any future. Once I found you, that door remains ever open.”

“Then you weren’t looking for me specifically?”

“I had no idea your time was so far into the future.” Cate shook her head slowly. “Two thousand years is further than I imagined. It is unbelievable. No wonder your world is so foreign. I recognize nothing of your time, but I was searching for us in the future.”

“Well, you found me. I hope I am not too disappointing.”

“Of course not. I was looking for the Silurians, hoping someone had made it through time. I had no idea the portal extended so far into the future.”

“Or so far into the past,” Jessie added.

Cate reached out and touched Jessie’s thigh. “Though I was not looking for you, Jessie, I am certainly very happy it was you I found. You possess the strength of spirit to do the very things we Druids believe in. You have the heart and soul of one, you know?”

Inhaling slowly, Jessie nodded. “Let’s hope. So you live in sixty-one AD, which is Latin. Anno Domini means in the year of our Lord. Whoa.” Jessie shook her head. “ I guess I paid more attention in school than I thought.”

“Indeed. Do you know what a Druid is?”

Jessie started to nod, then shook her head. “I know it’s what you are, and I’ve been meaning to study up on it, but my life back in the twenty-first century is a bitch, and I don’t have the time. I’m sorry I don’t know more.”

Cate nodded. “Druids believe that what you and I are experiencing right now is more than possible. It simply is. Soul migration is a vital aspect of my people’s beliefs. We are who you are trying to save. You are one of who we were. You and I have been around a long time as a soul.” She paused and bowed her head to hide a slight grin. “It is why we are so wise.”

Jessie suppressed a chuckle. “Wise would not be a word I would use to describe me.”

“Perhaps not at this particular point in your life, but you have a very old, very wise soul. You just have not listened to it. You have only now discovered you have one. Trust me, the wisdom will come. It always does.”

“I wish it would get here soon, because I could sure use some.”

“It is not coming, Jessie. It is here.” Cate touched her own temple. “Your world is so fast, it is no wonder you have not the time to stop and listen. But if you did, you would discover aspects of yourself that would astound you. I know not who were we in between my time and yours, but I am confident we were someone special.”

“What makes you say that?”

Cate leaned over and took Jessie’s hand. “You. You are very special. There lies within you such greatness if only you would believe.”

“I wish I could see it.”

“You will. I did. I do still.”

Jessie looked down at the petite hand holding hers and marveled at how all of this could be. She realized then that she wasn’t really holding Cate’s hand and that they really weren’t two separate beings. Here, they were, of course, but in reality, they were one; one soul, two ages thousands of years apart. It was mind-boggling.

“So here we are, in your Dreamworld as two separate beings. Just how did all of this come about?”

Cate released Jessie’s hand and folded both of hers in her lap. “Dreams are where we come to free ourselves from the constraints of life. We come here to see and feel all that we’ve been and shall become. It is a sacred place that enables those from the past to visit us and impart their wisdom. Has that not ever happened to you?”

Jessie shook her head. “In my world, I mean, in my time, dreams hold no significance except to those society believes to be cuckoo.”

“Cuckoo?”

“Insane. Crazy. Mad. People who believe in dreams or visions, that sort of thing are disregarded as looney tunes by the rest of the population. They hold no water anymore.”

“How terribly sad. Why would a society choose to deprive its citizens of the wonderful wisdom and peace of the dream world?”

“I don’t have a clue.”

“Dreams are powerful, Jessie. No matter what the people think in your time, you must believe in their power. You must know without any doubt, that this is a special place where souls meet and reflect on the wisdom of the ages. This Dreamworld gives us the means to communicate with each other.”

Jessie nodded. “In my time, dreams are nothing. We don’t even talk about them.”

“Unless you are—looney tooney?”

Jessie laughed. “Looney tunes, yeah. It’s hard enough just trying to keep up with real life.”

“Your time, Jessie, feels very scary to me.”

“It is. It is a very scary place with too many decisions and too many choices, and so few of them are the right ones. It’s easy to make mistakes in my time.” Jessie looked around and sighed loudly. “I like it here, though. It’s very peaceful.”

“It is peaceful because I created it this way. Druid magic is powerful magic, Jessie. We are capable of doing a great many fantastic acts with it. Creating our special Dreamworld is just one of those acts.” Cate’s eyes seemed to change from green to blue.

“Is your real world peaceful like this as well?”

“Not for long. The Romans are going to destroy every Druid they can find. This is the main cause for which I came.”

Jessie stared at her. “The Romans, as in Julius Caesar?”

Cate shook her head. “He was killed a hundred years ago.”

“I suck at history. Sorry.”

Cate managed a small smile. “Well, it is time for you to become good at it, because without your help, thousands of us will be destroyed. Perhaps more.”

Jessie ran her hand through her hair once more. “How can I help you from two thousand years away?”

“It will be simpler than you think. We merely need information.”

“Information? That’s all? You came all this way for some facts?”

Cate nodded. “When Julius Caesar defeated Gaul, he believed in order to destroy and subjugate the people, he need only kill the spirit of his prisoners. That spirit, Jessie, lies within the breast of the Druids. We are the keepers of the way.”

“I’m afraid I know absolutely nothing about Caesar or Druids, or anything for that matter. If you came looking for the cavalry, I’m afraid you’ve ended up with someone riding a donkey.”

Lightly touching Jessie’s shoulder, Cate continued. “Perhaps you do not know much at the moment, but soon, you shall. Unless—oh my.”

“What? Unless what?”

Inhaling deeply, Cate continued. “Our way is of oral tradition. It is largely against our laws to write down our rituals and ceremonies. If the Romans succeed in destroying us, it is quite likely they also erased any evidence as to our existence.”

“Could that really happen?”

“More than you know. The victors write history, Jessie, not the vanquished. Ask anyone about the greatest female pharaoh of all time, and you’ll see what I mean.”

Jessie leaned back, her hands cupped around her knees. “It’s just—so sad to think that your people could actually be forgotten, erased from the memory of humankind. And I’m no help at because I’m an idiot from the future who doesn’t know a goddamned thing.”

Cate leaned closer to Jessie, her red hair falling across one shoulder. “It is not so important what you do not know, as it is what you are willing to learn. If there is memory of our existence in your time, you may be able to help us save ourselves.”

Jessie nodded. “Tell me what I need to do.”

Cate fully faced Jessie now. For an instant, she just looked into Jessie’s eyes as if probing her. “I am proud that it is you who now carries my soul within you, Jessie. I know it is difficult to see right now, but you carry with you far more wisdom than you could ever imagine. Buried deep within you are visions, dreams, thoughts, experiences of worlds so beautiful, you might someday risk returning to them.”

“How?”

“You have the portal, and it allows you to come and go. Someday, if you ever know how to control it, you might even learn how to come and go at will. You could see places that have ceased to exist, visit people who have yet to be born, and learn all there is to learn from the very soul your body houses.”

“Whoa. How cool would that be?”

“But you must be careful with this knowledge, Jessie. It is just as easy for an evil soul to step into the portal as it is for a kind soul such as yours. Time is not a power to be harnessed or truly understood. Time is something you can learn from, and respect; it is a tool with endless capabilities. You must not view it as a toy or the Goddess will take it from you.”

“Goddess?”

Cate sighed. There was so much Jessie did not understand. “There is not time for me to explain what takes us twenty years to learn, but I can tell you that the Goddess chose you to slip back and forth along the time stream, and she makes no mistakes. It is an awesome power at your fingertips. Abuse it at your peril.”

Jessie nodded. “Understood. I may not know much, Cate, and I might seem pretty damned inadequate right now, but I’m ready to learn. I’m ready to do whatever you need me to do.”

Cate inched forward. Her eyes were now a deep emerald and they flickered with intensity. “We need to know exactly when the Romans attacked us, and what the final outcome was. What became of the Druids and the clans and tribes we served. Where did we go? How did we get there? What happened after they attacked us?”

Jessie studied Cate for a moment. There was that other thing she had seen in her earlier. It was that unspoken thing that hung in the air between them. It was a feeling so deep, so incredibly potent, Jessie recognized it even though she had never experienced it before. “That’s not all this is about is it? There’s more to this than just the Romans attacking you. This has something to do with Maeve, doesn’t it?”

Cate’s eyes watered and she quickly looked away. It took a second for her to compose herself before she returned her still-tearful gaze to Jessie. “Do you know what having the sight means?”

Jessie nodded. “Finally, something I do know. It means being able to see into the future.”

“Close. It means being able to see that which has not yet occurred. I have had a sight—a horrible vision of Maeve being—captured by the Roman guards and—”

“I’ve seen that!”

Cate went white. “What?”

“I saw that sight. That’s how I know Maeve has something to do with it. She was captured and you—well—she was being overtaken by a Roman.”

Cate wiped the tears from her eyes. “Lachlan has had the same vision, only in it, Maeve is—tortured by the Romans.”

“If we’ve all seen it, does that mean it happened?”

“Not necessarily. Remember—time is not linear. Just because we see it doesn’t mean that it happens or will happen in our time.”

“Does she know? Has she had the vision?”

Cate shook her head. “Not that we know of. One’s sight usually precludes seeing things about our own lives. That would be too difficult for even the strongest of priestesses. Lachlan and I doubt she has seen this one. If she did, she would get as far away from me as she could in order to protect me, and that has not been the case. This time, it is our job to protect her.”

Jessie nodded. Suddenly, she felt much older than seventeen, and, for once, somewhat wiser. “Your feelings for Maeve are what touch me the deepest, Cate. I know there’s nothing you wouldn’t do to protect her.”

“Nothing,” Cate said softly, staring into Jessie’s eyes.

Jessie gazed deeply into Cate’s emerald eyes and asked a question she hadn’t even known she was thinking. “Are you two—lovers?”

Cate cocked her head sideways. “Lovers. That word is too bound up in the physical connection between two people. Maeve and I mean far more to each other than what that singular word can convey.”

Jessie tilted her head to match Cate’s. “Is that a yes or a no?”

“If you are asking if Maeve and I share our bodies with each other, the answer is yes, but that is such a tiny thing compared to her being my anam cara.” She waited to see if recognition registered in Jessie’s eyes. When it didn’t, she continued. “We believe that our anam cara always sees our light, our beauty, our very best traits. Our anam cara accepts us for who we truly are. The anam cara love awakens the fullness and mystery of life. We are joined in an ancient and eternal union that moves across all barriers of time, convention, philosophy and form. In this life, Maeve and I are both women and Druids. That may not be so in the next life, but that does not mean we won’t still find each other.”

Jessie was silent for a moment before barely uttering, “Wow.”

Cate nodded. “It is quite special.”

“I’ll say. Then I say we keep you guys together at any cost.”

Cate rose and wrapped her arms around Jessie. “Thank you so much.”

Jessie pulled away and wiped Cate’s face. “Cate, I am you, and the depth of your feelings for Maeve resounds through every cell in my body. Every day, I feel it more and more. She lives in me as surely as she does in you.”

Cate rose. “I am not surprised you are capable of sensing her importance to me and my life. After all, you have residual memories and emotions from me.”

“Even time can’t overcome love, can it?”

Cate shook her head. “Not in my world, no. Perhaps, not in yours as well. Without Maeve and Lachlan, I would be so alone. When my parents died, they stepped in and helped me learn how to handle being alone in the world. But I wasn’t alone for long, because Maeve never left my side. My grief was immeasurable, but she gave me a place to call home.” Cate smiled softly. “I’ll never be alone as long as she lives. She and I have spent lifetimes together, and, the Goddess willing, will continue to do so.”

“You’re really lucky.”

“Luck is not something we put any faith in, Jessie. The world is full of magic, of alchemy, of transformations the human mind can only marvel at. Lachlan has shown me much about the laws of attraction and the way the world can be. He is a brilliant teacher.”

“Tell me about him. Who is this guy?”

“Lachlan is the chief Druid of the Silurians. He is the one who allowed me to join when Maeve requested it of him. He is a very powerful Druid, with many influential friends to the east. He and the Druids of the Iceni have a communication system that keeps us apprised of what is happening in Londinium. We know when boats come and go, and we know that the governor has been building up his troops.”

Jessie nodded sadly. “So, Lachlan is your spiritual leader.”

“Yes.”

“Okay. So far, so good. What I’m wondering is this: if I tell you what the outcome was, won’t you change history by not doing what history says you did?” Her head starting hurting again.

Cate frowned, her brows nearly touching. “This is where it becomes a bit more difficult to understand from your side. What you read about has happened. We cannot change what has already occurred. However, and this is the tricky part, it happened that way because of what transpired here.”

“I don’t follow.”

Cate looked around and picked up a stick. With the wave of her other hand, she created a fire at the end of the stick. Jessie sat up and started to say something, but Cate cut her off. “We are in a dream state, Jessie. It is not magic.”

“Oh.” Jessie felt her face flush.

“See how this is flaming? In the future, if you write about it, you will say that the stick burned to this last knot. Now, if I go into the future and see what you wrote, I can come here and put the fire out when it reaches its last knot.”

Jessie nodded, remembering Cate’s and Ceara’s words. “Time isn’t linear.”

“No, it is not. The portal has always existed, and people have always been able to slip in and out. The future often happens the way it happens because we mean for it to be that way. If I could change what happens in your time, then that would mean time is on a line, and it is not. I cannot change what your time says happened, but I can work around it in mine.”

Jessie’s head was really beginning to pound. “So if you know what happens during the invasion—”

“We may be able to save many more lives by going where the Romans are not. People will die, lives will be lost just as your history may record. How many lives lost is entirely up to the people in my time.”

“Okay, I think I get it. We can’t change what has happened . . . because we may actually be the cause of what has happened. Is that right?”

Cate appeared relieved. “Yes. Lachlan wants to save as many lives as he can, and I, well, the Goddess may not be too pleased with me at the moment, but I am trying to prevent Maeve from suffering.”

“Absolutely.” Rising, Jessie picked up a stick and waved her hand at it but nothing happened, so she tossed it in the fire. “I’ll do my best, Cate. You know I will.”

“Time is our enemy, Jessie, and I will answer all your questions in time. Suetonius Paulinus, the governor, is mounting his men for an attack, and we fear that he is following along the lines of Caesar, and will attempt, not only to drive us out, but to destroy us entirely. He fears the people of this land, especially our leaders; the Druids.”

Jessie inhaled deeply, puffing her chest out and feeling big. “Then let’s save as many as we can.”

Cate reached out and took Jessie’s hand in hers. “Thank you. Thank you so very much, and remember, you are not alone. I am with you. Always. If you need answers, you need not always come through the portal for them. I am you. You are I. We are within each other now and always.”

“I’ll keep that in the front of my mind, Cate. I swear.”

“Good. And remember . . . time is of the essence. We have it not to waste.”

“Then we won’t. You take care of Maeve. I’ll do what I can on my end.” With that, Jessie turned from Cate, and suddenly found herself back in her own time.

Unfortunately for Jessie, that time consisted of a two-o’clock appointment with a shrink she had no desire to see. Already, Jessie could feel the grains of sand running through the hourglass as she entered Dr. Leslie Uhl’s office for the first, and hopefully, the last time.

“Hi, Jessie, have a seat.” Dr. Uhl, a tall, fortyish woman with long, straight brown hair out of the seventies, motioned for Jessie to sit in an aging brown leather chair across from her. “Your parents have told me that this is a court-ordered appointment due to an arrest you had around drug use in California.”

Jessie shrugged. “Then I guess it is.” She hated shrinks. “That bust happened almost a year ago. I did a half a stint at a drug rehab and haven’t needed therapy since. I don’t need rehab or therapy now.”

“Really?” Dr. Uhl asked, writing something down on her pad.

Jessie nodded. “I’m not using drugs, I haven’t been in trouble with the cops and I’m finally starting to get my life together. I don’t need therapy.” Jessie shrugged. “That just about sums it up.”

“Well, that’s a good place to start. Your parents tell me they’re worried about the friends you’ve chosen for yourself here.”

“My parents worry too much.”

“Why do you suppose?”

Jessie glanced at the clock. “My parents worry so much, they don’t see how I have changed. I’ve grown up, and to be honest, I think that scares the crap out of them. So they hang on to my past transgressions as a way of hanging on to the little girl who did them.” Jessie lay back and folded her arms across her chest. Let Dr. Uhl psychoanalyze that.

“Changed in what way?” Dr. Uhl had thin lips beneath a silly putty nose that looked like it was about to slide off her face. Her eyes, a hazelish-brown, were hawk-like in the way they narrowed whenever she asked a question. Like most folks in town, she was underdressed in khaki dockers, a white collared shirt and a blue blazer. J. Jill all the way down to her black Simple loafers.

Jessie thought she would scream. “Do you know who I hang out with? Madam Ceara.”

Dr. Uhl gave nothing away. “Oh?”

“Yeah. Look, I’m seventeen, in a new town, in a new state working my ass off in a house the locals call the Money Pit. Ceara reached out to me and I reached back. There are no drugs. I don’t do drugs, my new friends don’t do drugs. There. Are. No. Drugs.”

“And you think drugs are the only reason they’re worried about you?”

“My parents sent my little brother away because they believed the story of a kid I threatened to kick the shit out of.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Because the little prick was hassling Daniel about drugs.” Jessie leaned forward in her chair. “I let him know what would happen if he did it again. End of story.”

“So, what happened?”

“The kid beat me to the punch and told my folks a bunch of bullshit. Hence, they shipped Daniel out of town thinking I was using again when all I was trying to do was protect him. It’s so unfair.”

“Is fair important to you?”

Jessie rolled her eyes at the tediousness of the question. God, an hour ago, she was in the first century talking to a Druid about saving lives, and now here she sat answering inane questions about fairness.

“The truth is what’s important to me, Dr. Uhl, and the fact that no one believes it when it comes out of me.”

“Trust has to be earned.”

Jessie groaned. “Right. And as long as the dog is on a leash, we trust that it won’t run away. That’s not trust, is it, Doctor? No, it isn’t. Real trust is letting the dog off the leash and knowing it won’t bolt in front of a car.” Rising, Jessie sighed. “The difference between me and a dog is that, unlike the dog, I can take off my own leash.”

“What are you doing?”

Jessie turned back to her. “The only important thing here is that I know I’m clean. I can’t waste my time running around trying to prove my innocence to anyone; not my parents, and not you. A few weeks ago, I would have stayed till the end to humor everyone, but frankly, I have more important things to do than sit here dissecting what’s been, up to now, a pretty unremarkable life.” On that, Jessie started for the door.

“Why up to now, Jessie? What has happened to make your life more interesting?”

Grabbing the doorknob, Jessie said over her shoulder, “If I told you that, I’d be in padded cell so fast, I wouldn’t have time to unhook this leash.” With that, Jessie walked out of the building.

Madam Ceara had just finished with a customer when Jessie burst through the door all out of breath. She was talking so fast, Ceara had to stop her several times and ask her to slow down.

Inhaling deeply, Jessie started over. “I met Cate.”

Ceara headed for the kitchen with Jessie close on her heels. “Where?”

“In her dreams. Her Dreamworld. She felt my presence when I went through so she induced sleep or something so we could meet. Why didn’t you tell me we could do that?”

Ceara turned on the faucet and watched as the water entered her teakettle. “We can’t. She apparently can. She is very good, my dear, to be able to make something of that magnitude happen. She knows the craft well.” Setting the kettle on the stove, Ceara turned up the flame. “Go on.”

Jessie told her all about their conversation, and Ceara stopped her only a few times for clarification. When Jessie began describing Lachlan, Ceara’s eyes grew wide and she held her hands up. “Are you certain she said Lachlan?”

Jessie nodded. “Are you okay? You don’t look so hot.”

Ceara nodded slowly and motioned for Jessie to continue, the color completely gone from her cheeks. “I’m—fine. Please—continue.”

“Cate saw what horrific thing might happen to Maeve and the others, so she and Lachlan decided Cate would go through, although I don’t know why he made her go and not himself. Cate made it sound like he was the bomb.”

“They need him to lead the people. If the Romans are going to attack, they need their chief Druid to assemble everyone together and devise a plan.”

Jessie watched the flame lick the bottom on the teakettle. “Anyway, my job is to find out as much as I can about Druids and Romans, England and all that history I never paid much attention to. If they have a general idea of what happened—”

“They can work around that, yes. It’s a brilliant notion, really.” Ceara nodded as she watched the steam rise from the mouth of the teapot. “Fortunately, my dear, you have friends who are well-connected. I have studied a bit about the Celts and their society, and I should be a great deal of help to you. Add my Internet connection on the boat, and we will provide you with more than enough reading material.” Ceara checked her watch when the kettle blew. “I do have several appointments this afternoon. Can you meet me at my boat tonight around eight?”

“You bet.”

Ceara smiled and patted Jessie’s hand. “Don’t panic my dear, or go off half-cocked. There’s a method to compiling the evidence we need to help. At least now you know what is required of you. Now, we have a direction in which to travel.”

Jessie couldn’t stop thinking about her conversation with Cate. “It’s as weird as it is incredible.”

“What is? Soul travel?”

“That, too, but I was thinking about them. Cate’s so connected to her. It makes me feel—”

Ceara leaned closer to Jessie and looked intently at her. “Are you telling me you can feel Cate’s feelings for this Maeve?”

Nodding, Jessie was surprised by her own answer. “Yeah, I think I do.”

“Oh—my. That must be something then.”

“Is it a problem?”

Ceara stared out the window and sighed loudly. “Love should never be a problem, dear girl, but what you’re feeling between them goes far beyond our meager definition of love.”

Jessie barely nodded and felt as if she were hardly there at all. Deep inside her, she experienced that life-giving kind of love they held for each other. She felt it as if she had someone in this time that she loved with just as much intensity and power. It was real, it was potent, and it filled Jessie with an unexpected joy.

Ceara cupped Jessie’s chin in the palm of her hand. “What you’re feeling is your soul mate.”

“My—soul mate? You mean—Maeve?”

Ceara nodded. “Yes. Has it not occurred to you yet that she or he is out there now?”

Jessie had to sit down for this one. “I never—I never thought of it. I mean, for the last couple of years, I felt like I was missing something—like there was a puzzle out there with a missing piece and I was it.”

“And now?”

Inhaling deeply, Jessie said very softly, “Now, I don’t feel that way at all. Ever since I went through I’ve felt more at peace, more whole than I ever have. Is that—”

“Because of Maeve? It very well could be. It could also be because you are finally on the right path. When we are where we’re supposed to be, life just becomes so much easier.”

“Well, all this history and time travel isn’t really easy, Ceara. It’s damn scary and super confusing.”

“And yet?”

Jessie looked up at her and grinned. “I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

Ceara nodded and pulled out two mugs. “Good for you.”

“You know, as weird as it is to find myself constantly thinking about Maeve, there’s something about Cate that’s irresistibly adorable. She is just filled with goodness.”

“And love?”

“Oh yes.”

“If you can feel Cate’s emotions for Maeve, then she is a far stronger priestess than I ever thought existed.”

“Then you think we can do this? Can we really help them?”

Nodding, Ceara poured the steaming water into two small teacups. “Can, my dear, and will.”

“And then, she just disappeared, as one would expect one to leave a dream.”

Maeve brushed a stray hair from Cate’s face. “You have done well. I am so proud of you.”

Cate started to smile, but was prevented by a huge yawn and stretch. “It was so very weird.”

Maeve tilted her face. “Weird?” She said it as if it were a foreign word.

Cate yawned again and nodded. “Yes. Strange. Odd. To stand there and speak to the person who will have your soul in two thousand years defies logic. It is . . . an odd experience mere words just can’t convey.”

Lachlan rose and strode over to the door. He stood there staring at Cate for a moment before speaking. “I, too, am proud of you, Cate. You have done well on your quest.”

“It is easier since Jessie is also a quester.”

This caught Lachlan by surprise. “A quester? Are you certain?”

“As certain as I can be about anything in the twenty-first century, yes. She has my soul, after all; the soul of a quester cannot stay silent long, Lachlan.”

“What does she know of us?”

Cate shook her head. “As to history, she knows virtually nothing, but she is willing to learn—to find out.”

Lachlan nodded. “Excellent. I must go. The Chieftain needs to see me this morning. I will see you both in the grove this eve.”

Cate watched Lachlan leave, wondering if he had ever experienced any joy in his life. She could not remember the last time she saw him laugh.

“How do you feel?” Maeve asked, helping Cate off the bed.

“Fine.” Cate straightened her robe when she stood. “Do you know the strangest thing? I was thinking about your question the other day; the one about Jessie. I like her. I truly do like her.”

“Of course you do. Why do you think so many of us like you?” Maeve stroked Cate’s cheek with the back of her hand. “She is not so very different from you, is she?”

“She is young, but willful. I was clear with her about what to do and she understands our need and the urgency of our request. Without complications, I believe Jessie will do what must be done.”

Just then, the door swung open and Lachlan rushed back in. “Governor Paulinus’s men are on the move and marching this way. It is said they are leaving Londinium in the morning and will be coming south.”

Maeve quickly moved to his side. “What must we do?”

“Pack only what you can carry, hide anything that would show you are a Druid, and spread word we will be meeting in the grove within the hour to discuss what the Chieftain wants to do.”

“So. It has begun.”

Cate joined them at the door. “How long do we have?”

Lachlan rubbed his face. “Days. Perhaps less than a week. Not long. Paulinus has set his sights on bringing the island to its knees.” Lachlan looked down at Cate. “Let us hope she moves quickly, else we may be the last of our people.”

“How could you?”

Jessie locked eyes with her mother, but refused to respond.

“Dr. Uhl said you were combative and rude. Rude, Jess. You just can’t seem to get out of your own way, can you?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?”

“Don’t get fresh mouth with me, young lady. I’ve had enough of your antics. If we didn’t feel that sending you back to San Francisco was a reward instead of a punishment, you’d be packing your bags right now.”

“But we don’t want to foist our problem on someone else,” Rick added, entering the parlor. He sat next to Reena and held her hand.

“Is that what I’ve been reduced to? A problem?” Leaning back, Jessie swallowed the anger rising in her throat.

“Don’t act the victim here. You left your appointment early, you were disrespectful, and now, you have earned a restriction.”

Jessie shot forward. “Are you kidding me? I’m seventeen. Who puts a seventeen-year-old on restriction?”

“Maybe if you started acting more mature and less rebellious, we wouldn’t have to.”

“Look, Jess, we have a lot of work to get done here. Every day that goes by without guests is a day we get deeper and deeper in debt. We can’t afford to be chasing after you and worrying that your—activities—are casting a gray cloud over the inn.”

“And you think putting me in lockdown is the answer?” Jessie crossed her arms and shook her head sadly. “Then bring Daniel home. It’s not fair that you’ve sent him to the hinterlands because of your dark and, if I might add, erroneous suspicions about me. I’ll stay home, but I want him to come home.”

Rick chuffed and shook his head. “This is not a negotiation, Jessie. Daniel will come home when we feel it is best.”

Jessie rose. “Fine. Anything else?”

“Yes. Finish painting room five. Your mother and I have some errands to run and I want it to be done by the time we get back.”

When Rick and Reena finally drove down Morning Glory, Jessie was already ten minutes late to meet Ceara at her boat. Time was already taking on a new meaning now that she had a destiny to fulfill.

Destiny.

What an interesting word, she thought. People her age didn’t usually think about destiny or purpose. We just go through life expecting tomorrow to be there like a gift waiting to be unwrapped. With little planning or preparation until our senior year, and then BLAM, everyone expects us to know what we want to be for the rest of our lives. Even then, most people still don’t really know what their purpose is. What’s worse, they don’t even care until it’s too late, and then they’re stuck doing something they never saw themselves doing when they were younger.

But she cared. She cared very much. The more time passed, the deeper her feelings were for a woman she would never meet. And those emotions were becoming stranger now, because they were no longer Cate’s emotions, nor were the visions Cate’s alone. They were her own now, borne of an ancient spirit that had raised its head and whispered to her to remember the ancient ways.

And to remember her love.

How perfectly natural it felt that it was the love of another woman that touched her so deeply. She’d never been attracted to girls, herself, but she’d had a lesbian friend her sophomore year who was one of the coolest kids she’d ever met. Unlike Jessie, the girl didn’t do drugs, so their friendship was short-lived. Still, she had always wondered what it would feel like to love a girl. It was something she and Wendy had talked about one super-stoned moment.

Jessie had tried her best to love guys, to plug that void she’d felt her whole life, but love in high school was a pseudonym for sex, and she’d had her fill of that. After the first six guys, she had wondered what all the fuss was about. It was no big deal, and in the end, she decided it was more of a hassle than it was worth.

But now . . . now that she could feel what love truly felt like, she could understand how sex with someone she really loved might be more meaningful. That kind of love was eternal and binding, and yes—void-filling. It had already managed to soothe that hollow feeling that had been such an intrinsic part of her being. Jessie heard, and she was remembering. It wasn’t a coincidence her parents had dragged her to Oregon and the Money Pit. It was her destiny, and it was now her job, her responsibility to keep Maeve from harm and to protect a way of life.

Jessie thought back to when she saw Cate stab that soldier in the back. When had that happened? Was that before Cate and Lachlan’s vision, or after?

Desperate to know more, Jessie had waited for her parents to leave and immediately ran down the backstairs and into the night. “Restriction, my ass,” she muttered, careful to avoid the motion-sensor lights on the porch. Destiny would not be slowed down by parental restrictions. The clock was ticking.

Five minutes later, Jessie stood on the deck of the boat, out of breath from running the entire way.

“Come in, come in, my dear,” Ceara said from her cabin below.

Jessie ducked as she entered the cabin and was surprised to find several large books strewn about the table, and a laptop plugged in on the counter.

“There is a great deal for you to know before you go back there, Jessie.”

Jessie nodded. “I know. I don’t think I have ever felt this stupid. Why didn’t I ever pay attention?”

Ceara batted the question away. “Believe me when I say this, Jessie Ferguson. What you were, you shall never be again. Who you are now, and who you are going to be, was never fully your own decision. Trust that you have already begun to change. You must learn to understand these changes. Without understanding, you will be lost.”

Jessie nodded. “I have been lost, Ceara. Here—now, is the first time I’ve felt—found.”

“Good. Your eagerness to complete your quest will make the learning easier. Come. Sit.”

Jessie sat at the table and stared down at the open book. It was an encyclopedia of ancient religions, and it smelled as old as God, himself.

“First, you must remember what they are, because what they believe is vital to your understanding of what it is they need to know. Without knowing them, you can only guess at how to help them.”

Jessie shook her head. “I don’t understand. Why can’t I just open a history book and see what happened and then tell them that?”

Ceara sat across from Jessie and as she pulled the encyclopedia to her a Celtic cross fell from the folds of her silk scarves and swayed about an inch above the table like a pendulum. Jessie didn’t remember ever seeing it before. “You cannot read a single history book and then run to tell them what happened.”

“Why not?”

“First off, there is always more than one account of a historical incident. Actually, there are always several different accounts of any one single event.”

Jessie frowned, thinking back to a time when she and Wendy had seen a man run out of a mini-mart. He had just robbed the store, they both saw him, and yet, their “eyewitness” accounts of his appearance were vastly different.

“Many historians claim there were six million Jews killed during the Holocaust in Europe, while other historians dispute that by saying there were not even six million Jews in the whole of Europe. If you only read the latter account, you would be accepting a revisionist’s point of view. To get the facts, you will have to research, and research well. You will have to consider the subjectivity of the author, how much research he or she did, etcetera, etcetera.”

Jessie sighed. “I hadn’t thought of that. I guess I would have just gone forward and maybe even given them incorrect information.”

Ceara nodded. “Without knowing precisely what they are up against, you could inadvertently send them all prematurely to their graves. Life, my dear, isn’t just good and evil. It is layered and textured, and if you do not understand each layer, you cannot make the right decision as to what to tell them.”

Jessie nodded slowly. She was just now beginning to see the scope of her involvement.

“So, we shall start at the beginning with a crash course in Druids and Druidry. Ask any questions you may have, but pay close attention.”

“Can’t I just tap into Cate for all of this?”

“Normally, you might be able to, if you were experienced at astral projection or other phenomena, but after two thousand years, think about how many other lives your soul has lived. It would be like going into a haystack and expecting to retrieve hay straws that were cut in August of nineteen sixty-one. It cannot reasonably be done, especially by an untrained individual. You must re-learn what your soul knows . . . in essence, you must remember, and in remembering, you will find yourself wondering, how do I know this?”

Jessie nodded. “Soul memory.”

Ceara nodded. “Yes. When one wonders why they are afraid of bridges, you will know it is because of something the soul remembers but can’t quite bring to light. So, we suffer with our phobias, our neuroses, even our love of things, and yet, we do not know why they exist for us.”

“How sad. No wonder Cate thinks we, in our time, are so disconnected from ourselves. We are.”

Ceara rose and opened the small window above the sink. “Once the Romans embraced Christianity, and it spread, it all but destroyed other ways of thought in the western world. As you will see, when the one God replaced the many, the world never recovered. Religions were forced to go underground, to hide, to live in fear of being tortured into false confessions and equally false conversions. As you’ll see, the Romans accomplished a great deal on their move toward world domination.”

“What finally brought them down?”

Ceara chuckled beneath her breath. “Barbarians, if you can believe it. Barbarians and Romans themselves brought down the great Roman power. But that’s another tale. Right now, you must understand who you were, what motivated you to become a Druid and to find yourself in the future.”

“But I know what motivated me. Maeve.”

Ceara cocked her head in question for a mere second, before a slight smile pushed her lips up. “Yes. You anam cara, for whom we would do anything. There is but one connection that neither man nor time can sever, and that is when two souls commit to each other for all of time. If, of all the soul memories you remember, Cate’s feelings about Maeve come through the strongest, then it is clear that saving Maeve is why she came through.”

Jessie nodded and rose. Pacing across the small cabin, she jammed her hands in her pockets. “Okay, about this soul mate thing. It’s clear they’re lovers and all—but I’m not gay.”

Ceara shrugged. “The soul is genderless, my dear. In this life, Maeve could be your brother, a friend you haven’t met, one of your parents, or anyone you have already come across but were too young to understand what you were feeling.”

“Oh—I get it. So a soul mate doesn’t have anything to do with sex?”

Ceara shook her head. “Absolutely nothing. In Cate’s life, Maeve is her soul mate. They took that love to a physical plane which may or may not happen in your own life. Who knows what you both were in the life after that or the ones before it.”

“You mean, like, we could have been pilgrims or pirates or something?”

“Yes. You could have been lovers, friends, siblings, or, you may never have connected in the life after that one. You may have missed each other in certain ages.”

Jessie shook her head. “No way. Maeve would have found me.”

Ceara cocked her head and stared at Jessie. “Oh?”

She did not know how to explain it. She had not been able to put words to it, but ever since she knew Maeve existed, her life was brighter, somehow, more full of light. She was no longer empty and seeking, but content and not alone. And wasn’t that silly, since Maeve had been gone for nearly two thousand years?

“My dear, do not hope to understand that which needs no explanation. Go to the bookstore in Eugene, and you will find shelf after shelf of books about finding your soul mate. We are born and we live with two shadows following us; one is the ever-present specter of death, and the other is the shadow of our soul mate, without whom we are not as fulfilled as when they are within us. Maeve is within you because of Cate’s eternal bond with her.”

Jessie sighed and sat down hard in the chair. To be understood was better than any drug she had ever had. “That’s exactly what it is, Ceara. It’s like I finally found what I’ve been looking for—but—I haven’t. Not really. At least, not here in my own time.”

Ceara patted Jessie’s hand. “Does it matter so that the soul you seek is not here with you right now, when you have access to her in your past?”

Jessie’s eyes brightened. “Not really.”

“You are young yet, my dear. You have plenty of time to find her or him again. Just know she could be in any form. She could be a child playing in the park. She could be the man who sells newspapers. She could be a professor, a homeless person, or someone you pass on the street. That is one reason why the Druids believed everyone should be treated with respect, because you never knew whose soul resided in the being you were speaking with.”

“Wow.”

Ceara nodded. “The world would be a nicer place if we all thought that, eh?”

Jessie nodded, and suddenly her chest was warm and full as she realized that she loved this old woman sitting across from her, this woman, whom her parents had judged and deemed somehow unfit; a woman whom the town made fun of, whom the world had forgotten. She reached out to Jessie when Jessie didn’t know how to reach.

“I’m ready, Ceara. Teach me what I need to know.”

Ceara nodded and pulled out a second large tome. She opened up the old book, which crackled from age and disuse to a picture of a Druid. The robe, staff and bonfire in the background brought a feeling of knowing to Jessie. “It took up to twenty years to become a Druid. I am going to give you twenty minutes worth of those twenty years. The rest, you’ll have to get on your own.”

“But wait. Cate’s not that old. I mean, she’d have had to start her training when she was like, four or five.”

“She has obviously shown exceptional abilities. Lachlan and Maeve must be good teachers.” Ceara took a quick sip of water and continued. “Druids are not the people your generation have transformed into role-playing pieces. They were not wizards or soothsayers, magicians or dragon-slayers. In Celtic society, they were the intellectual class, the philosophers, historians, doctors, judges, teachers, seers, astronomers and mathematicians. They gathered deep in the woods to learn, to share and to tell stories. It is believed they were capable of divination and prophesy, healing, levitation and shape-shifting into animals.”

“Shape-shifting? Like metamorphosis?”

“A little. They were brilliant men and women who memorized nearly thirty thousand verses. They were the best of the best, and after Caesar and others tried to destroy them, they went deeper into the woods. They sought security and comfort in the oak groves they so loved. The word itself, Dru-wyd, supposedly combines two words that mean oak knowledge or oak wisdom.”

“What do you mean supposedly? How can we not know any of this for sure?”

Ceara shook her head sadly. “The Druid way was an oral tradition, so very little was ever recorded. In many areas, the act of writing down the rituals was illegal. Then, the Catholics came along and converted the islands of Britain and Ireland, destroying hundreds if not thousands of ancient texts that had been written down when the Druids saw their end was near. Saint Patrick himself is recorded as having burned over one hundred and eighty Druid texts in an attempt to convert Ireland to Christianity.

“The Druids, who roamed what is now known as the United Kingdom and parts of France, left us very little information about themselves, so what we do know of them is an incredibly Roman-biased point of view. What we do have recorded—and remember, that does not mean that it is the gospel truth—is that the Druids were persecuted by the Romans, the Norse, the Normans and the Saxons. And once Christianity made its bid to be number one, the Celtic religions were nearly wiped out. Pockets here and there managed to survive, and even make a comeback, but for a thousand years, their ways were practically lost.”

Jessie felt an incredible sadness in her chest. “Then it doesn’t really matter what Cate does because eventually, they lose.”

Ceara shook her head and frowned. “Again, my dear, I caution you against swallowing all the information historians feed us. Do you not think that Japan’s history books tell a much different tale about the dropping of the bomb on Hiroshima? Do you not think that some Germans have a different side to the telling of the war? History is a man-made convention with plenty of flaws and inconsistencies. You are in the singular position to actually see it for yourself.”

Jessie shuddered. “I don’t know if I want to if all it is is one destruction after another.”

Ceara patted Jessie’s hand. “I’ve painted a bleak picture, and I apologize. Certainly, there are wondrous things from history that have been recorded, it’s just, we aren’t discussing the good things that happened to the Druids, because that would not help.”

“True.”

“The Celts were a strong and brave people who believed that your soul lives on, and since they truly believed this, they fought with a ferocity that scared even the well-trained Roman soldiers. Would you ever go to war against someone who had nothing to lose? Would you battle someone who did not fear death?”

“No way.”

“Exactly. The Celtic warriors were unafraid of death because they knew they would see each other again in another life.”

“Scary if you were an opponent.”

“Very. Julius Caesar felt that, without the Druids, the Celtic people would not be as strong, and so, if you cut the head from the beast, you could then conquer the beast itself.”

“And did he?”

“Not quite, but certainly not for lack of trying. He managed to deal some very heavy blows, but after Gaul, he—well, let’s just say he had other things on his mind.”

“What happened in Gaul?”

“Around sixty BC, Caesar went to Gaul, which is France now. There, he served as governor and was a brilliant general of over fifty-thousand loyal men. Caesar directed his army in conquering the rest of Gaul, which consisted of the remainder of current France and Belgium and parts of Germany, Holland and Switzerland. He nearly wiped out all Druids in Gaul.” Ceara sipped her water and continued. “The problem for the Celts in England was they were not unified. The separated tribes and clans made it easier for the Romans to conquer. In fifty-five BC, after only two summers of fighting, Caesar went back to Rome, but he still managed to gain a toehold in England. Still, it was enough to start a turn of events that leads us right to sixty-one AD, where Cate and Maeve face a tenuous and not-so-pretty outcome.”

Jessie was on the edge of her seat. Finally, she would find out just what had happened to those Cate and Maeve were set on protecting.

As if sensing Jessie’s excitement, Ceara held up her hand. “Oh, no my dear, not quite yet. First, you must gather as much information as you can about the Roman occupation of England in the first century. Then, you’ll need information on the Druids on the Isle of Mona, and then—”

“But there isn’t time.”

Ceara shook her head. “There isn’t time to make a mistake, either, Jessie. Whatever information you gather will be used to move as many of their people as they can out of harm’s way. If you have incorrect information or biased sources, you could send them right into the line of fire.” Ceara softened her voice as she reached out to touch Jessie’s hand. “Youth is impetuous. It rushes headlong into the fray before assessing the dangers. They cannot afford for you to act rashly. I understand you want to make a difference, and you will, but only if you act wisely and not like a naïf.”

“Okay, okay, I get it. Slow down.”

Ceara visibly relaxed. Reaching across Jessie, she touched the mouse pad and clicked on her browser. “Now, would I be assuming too much if I thought you knew how to use the Internet?”

“I’m a teenager, Ceara. We live on the Internet.”

“Good. You will need to narrow down the specific information we need. Of course, you are welcome to come aboard anytime in order to use the laptop. I keep it locked in here, and the key is in the butter dish in the refrigerator. There are chat rooms listed in my favorites section, but don’t spend too much time there. We need accurate information, not people’s opinions.”

“Got it.”

“And don’t forget to take notes. When you go home, read everything you’ve written and memorize as much information as your brain can contain. You’ll need to recall as much of it as possible later, when you go back. Whatever skills you acquired in our disappointing school system will need to be at their peak.”

Jessie nodded, and then she saw the clock on the desktop. It was getting late, and she wasn’t even supposed to be out. “I’ll give it my best.”

Ceara put her fingers to Jessie’s lips. “Remember, it matters not what you once were or what you once knew. Cate believes in you, so it is now time for you to believe in yourself.”

Nodding, Jessie realized that she did, indeed, feel differently since the last slip through; differently enough to actually walk out of a shrink’s office in the middle of the session. While not a real smart thing to do considering her parents’ reaction, it had somehow marked a change in how she saw herself. This was her chance to turn her whole world around—to experience something few people believed in and even fewer had tasted. She wasn’t about to let her parents’ misperceptions of her keep her from her destiny. Not anymore.

“I’m getting there,” Jessie said, as Ceara clicked open her mailbox. Jessie grinned when she saw Ceara’s address. It was Cearaseesall@seesall.com.

Ceara typed in her password and then opened a letter from someone from the University of Oregon. “I took the liberty of writing to a professor friend of mine at the U of O. He’s in the history department and has written two textbooks about Roman history. He’s done much of the research we need.”

“I don’t know what to say, Ceara. You’ve been working really hard at this.”

“We all have our reasons, don’t we?” She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “He tells me he has a friend in London who is an authority on the Romano-British age, and he has another friend in Rome who wrote a book on the Roman governors of Roman provinces and that we ought to be able to get something from both of them quite soon.” Ceara turned and held Jessie’s chin. “Now, here’s what you need to find out first. You must make sure their village is called Fennel, and if it is in the area we call Wales. The name of the people once inhabiting that area was the Silures. If you can get the true date on your next visit, that is even better. The more information you can get from Cate, the better. Ask for specifics.”

“I’ll go back tonight.”

“Look for things that will help you remember. It will be much better if you can pinpoint their exact location and date, otherwise, we could give them information that isn’t what they need.”

“Maybe it’s still called Fennel?”

Ceara shook her head. “Already checked. There is no Fennel. Like so many villages and towns of the time, the name was probably Latinized after the Romans came.”

Nodding, Jessie glanced over at the clock one more time. “Okay, but I really have to get moving. If my parents know I skipped out on them, who knows what they’ll do?”

The villagers met in the deepest part of the groves, No Man’s Land to the villagers and Haunted Forest to outsiders. They came carrying little save their ceremonial devices such as herbs, cauldrons, swords and staffs. They left behind everything of world value in homes that were, as they spoke, being set afire so as to conceal any possible evidence of who had lived there.

All told, there were fifty-eight Druids from Fennel and the two surrounding villages of Gaston and Maubrey. They had come seeking refuge and advice; for the Romans had moved from the north where they had already killed, tortured and run off many of the northern Druids. The last message Lachlan had received from his Chieftain was that the Romans were headed toward the people of the rock. They were safe for the time being, but Lachlan did not know for how long.

Stepping into the circle, Lachlan pulled his hood down and addressed the waiting group. “The time is upon us, my friends, when we must choose to fight or flee. Our warriors are gathered together to prepare for the battle Rome is forcing on us. But we cannot rely solely on swords to protect us from the enemy. It is not the warriors Paulinus seeks to destroy, but us. Another warrior can replace a warrior, but we cannot be so easily replaced. We must continue on—our people rely on us to protect them from these invaders, and we cannot do so if we cease to exist. So—the question all of you are thinking is do we fight? Do we fight with our warriors or do we flee so we can lead from afar once the dust has settled and we can try to rebuild our world? Do we take better care of our people by remaining alive and saving our secrets for another day when we rise again to the seat of power, or do we use those very secrets in an attempt to destroy an enemy that, like a lizard that grows its tail back, appears to be invulnerable?” Lachlan waited while the group murmured among themselves. Maeve took Cate’s hand and held it firmly in her own. Cate could not look at her friend for fear Maeve would see how utterly afraid she was.

Lachlan held up his hand for silence. “The Druids who were able to escape Caesar in Gaul knew the true treachery of the Roman people. Though they have called us barbarians, we are not the ones raping women and killing children. We are not the ones invading their lands and taking over their farms and villages. While we honor all life, they destroy it to suit their greed, they desire to create a world where Rome is the center and we are nothing but support.”

The crowd murmured again. They did not know that this very speech was being replicated in the mountains where the Chieftain addressed his men in preparation for the coming battles to be fought.

Again, Lachlan waited for silence before continuing. “There are other even more powerful people, the people of the Iceni and the Ordovices who can aid us should we choose to fight rather than flee. But whatever route we take, we must take it together. To faction off as our tribes have historically done will surely mean the death of us all. We cannot remain divided and hope to win.”

“What of Cate McEwen?” one asked from the crowd. “Has she not been successful?”

Lachlan slowly nodded. “Indeed, more so than we could have hoped. We are so very close to having answers, but the Romans are very close as well. That is why we must make a decision so that we may be prepared in the event that Cate’s information is received too late.”

“What shall you have us do, then?”

Lachlan addressed the speaker. “I ask that we spend this eve discussing our limited options. In the morning, we shall return to the fire to see what message I will take to the Chieftain. Speak your mind this evening, question each other, and search your hearts for what you truly believe would be best for all of us.”

“What say you, Maeve?”

“Yeah. What does Maeve think we should do?”

Everyone stopped and turned to Maeve. Since her arrival from Gaul, the Silures regarded her as far more powerful than most Druids. She had been able to rise to her power in a country that had been crushed by Caesar, and already, there were legends and stories of her, some exaggerated, some not, and all looked upon her as a strong, guiding force. Her word meant everything.

Inhaling slowly, Maeve released Cate’s hand. “I believe in Catie and the work she has accomplished thus far. She needs a little more time; time we may not have, in order to retrieve all of the information we need. Still, we must be prepared for the eventuality that the Romans will attack before we have what is required. We must be prepared for everything.”

“And foresight, Cate?” one woman asked. “Have ye seen anything?”

Cate shook her head. “None different than what I shared with you weeks ago.”

“Do you still believe you can do what Maeve believes you can do?”

Cate looked over at Maeve and held her gaze for a very long time. No words needed to be said; each knew what the answer was.

“I have gone further than the others and returned safely. It is a new quest and if I had more time, I believe we could change the course of events. Still, there is help, and I am seeking it. It—is the best I can do.”

“Is it true Quinn has not returned from the portal in over two days?”

Maeve and Cate stared at Lachlan, who nodded sadly. “Quinn has yet to return, it is true, but that does not mean we shall never see him again.”

The crowd groaned in unison, memories of past failures looming over them like a group of circling vultures.

Maeve held her hand up and the crowd silenced immediately. “Quinn has exceptional abilities. I have faith in him as well. Do not give up hope.”

“Until tomorrow, then,” Lachlan said, effectively cutting off any more questions. “Ian will take our decision to the mountains where the Chieftain will announce to the warriors what needs be done. Be well this night.”

As the members of the order wandered over to the fire to sit and converse about the decision facing them, Maeve turned to Cate and stared down into her face. “There is not much more time, my love.”

Cate stood erect, unblinking. “I know.”

Lightly touching her cheek, Maeve gently pulled her into an embrace. “We will get through this.”

Nodding, Cate felt the mounting pressure of her task and a small window of fear open up inside her. Would Jessie come through for them? Cate could only pray she would.

The first message from the Chieftain was not good. The Romans were already burning through the northern villages. He would wait until he heard from Lachlan before making a move, but there was little time.

“What will you do?” Maeve asked Lachlan the next morning before the discussion was put to a vote.

“We need to talk to the Chieftain. We will take him our decision, but I do not believe flight is in our best interest.”

“You do not?”

Lachlan shook his head. “The Romans have always just taken. Flight will only enable them to take without cost. If they are to take anything from us, there must be a high price.”

Maeve sighed. “Shall we go, or do we send a messenger?”

“I think that we must go. We must bless the warriors, of course, and the Chieftain will want to see us before it begins. It is crucial the warriors know we stand beside them.”

“Agreed. I sensed their unease at the start of the march. It is never easy leaving one’s home.”

“What of Cate?”

Maeve shook her head. “She needs to be near the portal. I do not believe it best if she goes with us.”

Lachlan turned and studied Maeve. “Are you trying to keep her from harm?”

Maeve nodded, surprised she was so easy to read. “Yes. Would you expect any less of me?”

Lachlan shrugged. “I wonder that you could leave her at all when she is so close.”

“Lachlan, I have spent the last nine years training her, tutoring, mentoring and loving her. It is time for her to show her teacher what she has learned. I cannot protect Cate from the inevitable sadness that will befall our kind, but I can certainly give her the chance to show us the true extent of her powers. She is a powerful priestess, and I believe she may save many lives. To do so, I must cut her loose from me.”

Lachlan reached out and touched Maeve’s cheek. It was the most intimate touch they had ever shared. “That is difficult for you, is it not?”

Maeve looked up at Lachlan, her eyes filling with tears. “You have no idea.”

“Your faith in her is boundless.”

“As it ought.”

“Faith misplaced can cause ruin, Maeve.”

Maeve reached out and took his hand away from her cheek. “Your mother was a very wise woman, Lachlan, with skills few could match and even fewer could replicate, but Catie has her own attributes, not the least of which is her courage. It is easy to believe in one who is so brave.”

Lachlan nodded. “Indeed, she is brave, as are you. I know it is not an easy thing to leave her during this time, and I admire you doing so.”

“We must all make sacrifices, Lachlan, for the greater good. Now, I will take my leave to see Cate. She has been making the rounds discussing our options with everyone.”

“Is that Birch she is speaking with now?”

Maeve glanced over, shielded her eyes from the sun, and nodded. “Indeed. Birch has been asking a great many questions about Quinn’s disappearance.”

Lachlan cast his eyes down and shook his head. Lachlan, more than anyone else, knew what happened after the third day of absence into the portal. Quinn could be anywhere in time, as anybody. He could be lost in the spaces between times, in the dark, black void his mother had referred to as the Great Nothingness. His absence was felt strongly by each and every one of them. “He was too young. I should not have let him go.”

“He has the sight, Lachlan. You had to.”

“His gift should not have become a curse.”

“Stop berating yourself. I would have done the same thing in your place.”

Lachlan raised an eyebrow at Maeve. “Truly?”

“Truly.” Maeve turned back toward Cate, who was in an animated discussion with Birch, a curmudgeon of an old man who was adored by all. For a moment, Maeve paused to watch Cate as she tried vainly to prove her point to the old man. Maeve’s heart swelled with pride. She had grown so very much. How had time slipped by so quickly? Just yesterday Cate was a young woman questioning everything Maeve taught her; pushing to make a place in a world that wasn’t sure it knew what to do with the likes of her. She had been eager to please, quick to learn, and even faster at challenging Maeve and Lachlan. It had taken them less than a year to discover that she had the sight, and it had happened quite by accident.

Maeve and Cate had been taking a walk when a man on a horse passed them. Cate called out to him to check the riggings of his saddle, but the man paid her no mind. Two hours later, when they came across the man, he was sitting on the ground with his ankle twisted from having slid off his horse. The rigging was broken, and his saddle had fallen right off the horse. He gazed at Cate with awe and respect as she helped him to his feet.

When Maeve fixed his ankle and sent him on his way, she turned to Cate and gazed deeply into her eyes. “You have it, don’t you?”

“Have what?”

“The sight. You knew that man was going to get hurt.”

“I knew his saddle was off, but—I am unsure how I knew.”

Time and time again Cate had shown them instances of her powers, and each time, Maeve begged Lachlan to take her into the grove to teach her what it meant to have such powerful magic. When he finally acquiesced, Cate’s abilities proved to be far more than just sight. Cate had seen something of the future, and although she had been unsure of what it was she saw, she knew one thing: she had been there, somehow, someway, to a time she could not comprehend.

Thus began her two years of training to prepare her for the journey that might ultimately save those she loved most. Cate had proven to be an excellent student and paid very close attention to the lessons Maeve and Lachlan delivered on a daily basis. Every week for two years, Cate had visited the portal and been transported across time, only to discover there was no viable recipient prepared to receive her.

Until Jessie.

Cate had actually seen Jessie a year and a half earlier, but there had been something wrong, something that fogged up her mind so much, she could barely remember what she had thought a second ago, let alone remember what her soul had been doing nearly twenty centuries ago. Jessie had not been receptive then, and even if she had been, that fog kept Cate from probing into her mind. It appeared, at that time, to be a wasted trip.

But then something happened, and not only did the fog lift, but Jessie had been brought to a portal herself; she now had the means to transport herself across time, and she had done so with remarkable skill and ease. She was so good at it, Maeve did not doubt that Jessie had somehow accessed Cate’s soul memory and had managed to use that information to do what no others from the future had ever been capable of; she had left her time and returned with her sanity intact.

And now, as Maeve watched her in animated conversation, she wondered how Cate had managed the feat as well. Was there a bond between past and present that allowed those two young women to connect to each other almost without effort? Or was there some other driving force that tied them to each other, as if two separate beings were connected by a common thread? Maeve wondered if she would live to find out.

She did not doubt, of course, that it was Cate’s love of her that pushed her beyond her limits, but did that love extend to Jessie as well? After all, Jessie was not a Druid, but did she not have the soul of one? Just like Cate had the mind of a Druid, but her heart—her heart was pure warrior, and it beat with a courage Maeve was sure came from another time and another place. For that, she was glad, because it was going to take more than Druid magic to prevent bloodshed; It was going to take the kind of bravery both Cate and Jessie possessed.

Now, if only Jessie came through in time.

Jessie stared up at the ceiling listening to her parents’ voices droning on from Daniel’s room. They had been discussing what to do about her for the last two hours. Little did they know that Daniel’s room acted like a conduit and that she could hear them as easily as if they were standing in the room.

They were discussing whether or not they ought to send her back to California.

California.

A week ago, she would have leapt at the chance. Now, the very thought panicked her. How could she ever face herself if she let Maeve down? Didn’t Maeve deserve a true heroine, and could Jessie actually be that for her?

Rolling over, Jessie covered her ears with the pillow. Why now, of all times, was she feeling these feelings toward Maeve? Was Fate that cruel? Had she been delivered a gift and not allowed to open it? It was clear how Cate felt about Maeve, how connected they were, but how was it possible that Jessie could also feel so strongly about a woman dead nearly twenty centuries? Was the soul’s memory that powerful? Could two people actually be so bound to each other, so cosmically connected that even the residue from their thousands-of-years-old emotion could be felt as strongly as Jessie felt it? All of the love and devotion Cate held in her heart for Maeve was now within Jessie as well, and she was determined to be as strong, as brave, and as successful as Cate.

If not for Maeve, then for herself.

She was done being a loser; done wandering about aimlessly with that ugly black teenage chip on her shoulder. She was almost embarrassed to have become such a cliché, a caricature of the brooding teenage girl. There was so much of life to live, and she was done squandering it as if she could always get that time back.

She couldn’t.

Time wasn’t something you could just put in a bank and retrieve when you needed it. It wasn’t replaceable at all, and she had certainly wasted her fair share of it, but not anymore. No, she was through traipsing aimlessly through life not being accountable to anyone or anything. She was responsible. She was accountable to two people in her past life she was beginning to truly love. She had failed at a lot of things in her life, but not this time. This time, she would succeed, no matter what the cost.

As sleep finally, mercifully tickled the edges of Jessie’s consciousness, she slowly fell into fragmented dreams that came fast and disjointedly, most of them about Maeve and of a time when there was little fear of Roman attack. In this dream, Maeve sat on a stone, her long, auburn hair reflecting the sun’s rays as she pulled a brush through it.

“You can do this,” Maeve said. To whom she was speaking, Jessie could not see. “You have never let me down. Not now, and not in the past. I doubt you ever will.”

Jessie peered into the dream, wondering to whom Maeve was talking. Was it Cate? It had to be, but Jessie did not see her.

“She thinks I do not know . . . thinks I have not seen the vision Lachlan and she have seen of my fate at the hands of the Roman soldiers. She does not know it was that very sight over a dozen years ago that made me step foot onto that boat and out of Gaul. That bloody vision did not just show me a possible end to my existence, it also showed me a brave, wonderful soul mate who would stop at nothing to save me from that very fate. I knew I needed to find her, not just for myself, but for a part of our Celtic culture that would be utterly destroyed if we cannot stop them. This is not about me, although Catie would make it her life mission to save me from that horrid fate. This is about a beautiful people few understand and even fewer will get the chance to know. You are our only hope now. Be strong. No matter what you face, no matter how afraid you become, remember that there is a people who rely on you to act wisely and bravely.”

The dream (was it a dream?) dissolved like a film fade out, and this time, Jessie saw tens of thousands of Roman troops lined up and moving across green woodland valleys. Their sheer numbers were astounding, the sound of their death march deafening. How could Maeve ask her to be brave and then show her what they were up against?

The scene shifted to burning buildings, fiery huts and villages aflame. Wooden houses burned high, their flames licking the bottom branches of the huge oaks standing guard against the wind. Babies cried, women speared in the back as they ran, and the dead bodies strewn about were crushed beneath the horses’ hooves. The village and everyone in it were destroyed as Roman soldiers crushed bodies, life and memories beneath their sandals.

Was this a dream, a memory, or neither? Jessie had no idea. What she did know was that it was vivid and very, very real. There was even the dream about Ceara, who had walked up to the Pit to inquire about Jessie. Even that dream felt within her reach. In this dream that wasn’t a dream, Daniel was standing behind her folks.

Daniel!

Jessie tried calling to him at first, but this was a dream where you could scream your head off and no one could hear you. Jessie wondered if everyone had those kinds of dreams. She’d had too many to remember, and she hated them. Screaming but not screaming. She wanted to yell and wave her arms to get Daniel’s attention.

But then . . . Daniel did the most amazing thing. As Jessie’s parents told Ceara about possibly sending Jessie back to California, Daniel stood right behind them, his eyes locked onto Ceara’s, and he was vehemently shaking his head. He knew the truth, didn’t he? Somehow, some way, Daniel was telling her that it was going to be all right—that she wasn’t going back to California.

But how could he know?

Waving to her, Daniel smiled and then pointed to the ceiling. Jessie looked up at it and saw his X-Men poster. Cyclops was blasting a bad guy and Wolverine was slashing some big guy in red. When she looked back, Daniel was gone. Jessie sighed. Cyclops and Wolverine were Daniel’s heroes. He was telling her that she was one as well.

Thank you, sport. It’s easier to believe in yourself when others do as well.

And, for the first time in her life, she truly did.