Page 56 of Desiring the Highland Laird
Hamish tightened his hand on his wrist. “Ye must believe. ’Tis up to ye now, lad, to find the other two pieces of the keystone and protect it with yer life.”
Callum felt there was nothing to do but agree. “Aye, Da. Ye have my promise.”
“And the lassie. Promise me ye will take good care of her.”
A flush of heat went through him. “Evie?”
“Aye.”
“Of course, Da. She’s safe here at Dundale.”
His hand tightened again on his wrist, tugging him closer. Callum leaned down and heard his raspy breathing and knew it wasn’t long now before death would take him. “The MacDonald.” His voice was a rough whisper.
“He will pay for his attack,” Callum said, a vehement declaration. “He and his clan.”
“There is something else I dinnae tell ye about the Shattering. There was…” He paused to catch his breath, cough. “There was someone else who wanted the stone. Someone who would kill for it.”
A sense of horror passed through him. Callum’s brows drew together as he waited. “Who, Da?”
Hamish shook his head, the effort nearly too much for him. “Before he sliced me in half…” He paused to catch his breath, changing the subject as if he had to get it all out before it was too late. “He said to me…he kens of the keystone. He kens we have it. And he wants it back.” He released his wrist. “Do ye believe now, lad?”
Blood drained from his head as he stared down at his da, making him lightheaded. He recalled Evie telling him the man chasing her before she swiped her thumb over the stone and fell through time was named MacDonald. Could it be true? Had they found a way into the past, or was there another explanation?
After a long pause, Callum nodded slowly. “Aye. I believe, Da.”
“Good. Protect it. Protect her.”
Those were his last words as Hamish’s eyes closed and his hand released his wrist, dropping to the bed. The breath went out of him and then he was gone.
Chapter Twenty
Silence descended inthe room as both Callum and Malcolm remained after the passing of their father. Neither said a word. Malcolm stood straight, unmoving, his hands clenched at his sides and his face stony.
“What did he mean there was someone willing to kill for the stone?” Malcolm said, breaking into the silence. “Someone else?”
Callum shook his head as if to say he didn’t know. He thought of the tapestries in Evie’s room and how they were changing, how the images were morphing as though showing the past history of the fabled keystone as well as the present with her falling from the sky.
He had no other explanation for that other than there were mystical forces at work. Mystical forces he had long denied.
He could no longer deny their existence, for Evie was here with him in the past.
Malcolm’s gaze was still on their father. “I will kill Rory MacDonald for what he’s done.”
“Aye, he will pay,” Callum agreed.
Malcolm charged toward the door. Seeing the look of fierce determination on his brother’s face, Callum stepped up to grab him by the arm and stop him.
“Where do ye think yer goin’?”
“To war, brother. I will rally the rest of the clan and pay MacDonald a visit.” Fire sparked in his brother’s eye. The same fire he, himself, felt.
“Nay, brother. We cannae attack.” When Malcolm started to protest, he said, “No the now. We must wait, lay Da to rest, and then rally the rest of the clansmen.”
He stared at him a long moment, and then seemed to relax his stance, releasing his clenched fists. His shoulders slumped as he gave him a stiff nod. “Aye, then. Yer laird now. I willna go against ye, brother. But Ian MacLeod needs to hear of this.”
He tugged his arm free and stomped from the room, slamming the door behind him. Ian MacLeod was leader of Clan MacLeod and resided on the far reaches of the isle. His brother was right in that their clan leader would need to know, and he would in time. For now, he would find Dougal and ask him to prepare his da for burial.
He didn’t need to search for the man. When he opened the door to the bedchamber, he waited outside in the hallway, apprehension pinching his face.
