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  “Of course he was who she claimed him to be.” Cathal allowed the annoyance he felt to enter his voice. “Alice would not lie about something as important as that. Just because Christian was not able to be there when Wynne was born does not mean he was not the child’s father.” The very idea was ridiculous.

  “I know you feel the need to defend her, as she is family, and I admire that, but―”

  Cathal cut her off. “I don’t think I made myself clear, Mrs. O’Neil. I know for a fact that Christian is Wynne’s father, and he did exist.” He took a deep breath, not about to stay silent and allow Alice’s memory to be degraded in this manner. “The reason why Wynne and Mikey both have Emerys as part of their name is because Christian is my cousin.”

  “Your… cousin?” The disbelief that crossed Mrs. O’Neil’s face was soon chased by something else. Approval and a degree of satisfaction. She peered at him again, this time more closely. He returned the gesture with a stare of his own. “There is some degree of family likeness there, I must admit. You could pass yourself off as a descendent, if the sketches are anything to go by.”

  “Pass myself off?” Cathal pushed his chair back. This woman was unbelievable. Heidi laid a warning hand on his arm.

  “Well, you’re hardly likely to be able to tell people that you’re his actual cousin, are you?” Mrs. O’Neil tsked. “Considering how long ago that was, I would think that would be rather foolish, wouldn’t you?” She took another sip of tea, ignoring the angry expression he wore. When she spoke again it was very matter-of-factly. “And you’ve never been someone one would consider a fool, have you, Mr. Emerys?”

  What the? Either she believed what he said or knew it to be true, despite her comments about Alice and her presumed state of mind after Christian’s disappearance. Cathal felt a coldness run through him, and he sat down again, unsure how to take what she’d just said.

  The front door opened and then banged shut. Mikey and Will were talking animatedly, or rather Mikey was telling Will about how there were different kinds of dragons.

  Mrs. O’Neil sat back in her chair. “Heidi, dear, I think we need a fresh pot of tea and some hot chocolate for young Michael.” She smiled at Cathal. Although it felt genuine, and there was no malice in it, he could not bring himself to entirely be at ease. “Don’t you worry now, young man,” she said quietly. “As I said, my family have lived here a long time, and we don’t forget a service done to our community. Sometimes you have to go along with the stories in order to safeguard the truth, you see.”

  “Service?” he asked. Surely she didn’t know what had happened that night?

  “Well, it was a long time ago, dear.” She turned her attention from him as though it had never been there in the first place when Mikey ran into the kitchen, followed at a more sedate pace by Will, who was limping but stubbornly walking without his crutch.

  “Mrs. O’Neil!” Mikey scowled. “I thought you’d have gone home by now.” His hair was flattened by the hat he quickly took off when he saw her, his cheeks bright with cold.

  “How lovely to see you too, Michael.” Mrs. O’Neil chose to ignore the comment. She smiled broadly when she saw Will. “Another visitor. How wonderful.” Will froze in the doorway, knowing that he was already caught. “Heidi, you must introduce us.”

  Heidi colored. No one else would have dared talk to her the way Mrs. O’Neil did, but for some reason Heidi just went along with it. She cleared her throat, giving Will an apologetic look. “Brenda, this is Cathal and Tomas’s friend, Will Hernesford. Will—”

  “Oh, sorry, I’m interrupting.” Donovan poked his head around the kitchen door. “Hi, Mrs. O. How’s it going? I need to steal Cat away for awhile. Need some help with some stuff. Talk to you soon.” He grinned at Cathal, his face the picture of innocence. Cathal wasn’t about to argue with this well timed opportunity of an offered escape route. Flashing Will a look of apology, he took it and ran.

  “Is she always like this?” Cathal raised an eyebrow when Donovan gave him a small paper bag to carry and grabbed a larger one for himself.

  “Mrs. O?” Donovan rolled his eyes. He cleared his throat, pitching his voice higher in a very good mimicry of Mrs. O’Neil. “We’ll see, Mr. Campbell. We’ll see.” Using the bag to shelter himself from the rain, he dashed from the house to one of the rooms behind the old stables. Cathal followed. “I know she means well, but she loves finishing every conversation we have with that phrase.” He shoved his bag toward Cathal. “Hold this for a sec, will you?”

  “You didn’t need my help to carry both of these,” Cathal pointed out as Donovan retrieved a set of keys from his jacket pocket and unlocked the door.

  “Of course not, but would you have preferred I left you in there?”

  “Well, no.” Cathal shifted the bags into one arm. “Thank you.”

  “It’s what friends do for each other.” Donovan grinned. “I figured you’d been at it a while. She likes Mikey, so he’ll be fine, and Will strikes me as a guy who can hold his own in that kind of one sided conversation.”

  “Will knows when to speak his mind and when….” The room was suddenly illuminated, and Cathal’s attention was taken by what it held. “Oh my,” he exclaimed.

  Donovan was pleased by Cathal’s reaction. “Welcome to my workshop. You’re one of a handful of people ever to grace its presence.”

  The room wasn’t very big. If memory served Cathal correctly it used to be a tack room, but if he hadn’t known he never would have recognized it as such. A workbench stretched along one side of it, tools hanging on the wall or lying neatly on shelves above it. The other side held a selection of timber in all shapes and sizes, different varieties suited for a range of purposes. But what had taken Cathal’s attention was the selection of carvings in various stages of work.

  He put the bags on the workbench and knelt to run his hand over one side of an exquisitely carved frame. Tiny figures were etched into the wood, dragons and other mythical creatures chasing each other around the outside of the mirror.

  “That one’s a special order. A favor for a friend.” Donovan leaned back against the bench, watching Cathal’s reaction.

  “You made this?” Cathal forced himself to return his attention to Donovan. “The workmanship is amazing. I’ve rarely seen anything of this standard. You have a real gift, my friend.”

  Donovan shrugged, his cheeks reddening. “I wouldn’t say it was that good, but I do a reasonable trade.”

  “It’s beautiful.” Next to the mirror were a collection of walking sticks, each with different carved animals on their handles. Beyond that were figurines, some larger than others. Cathal picked up one about the size of a pendant and ran his fingers over it. “They all are. I had no idea.”

  “It’s not something I tend to advertise,” Donovan said. He seemed almost shy, which wasn’t something Cathal was used to seeing in him. “I’ve always enjoyed doing this kind of stuff, and the inn doesn’t always do that well, especially in the winter, so it helps with the bills. Heidi’s always told me that I should try and find more of a market for it, but I never believed that anyone would be interested.” He smiled softly. “I’d sold a bit here and there, but nothing much until Ethan took one and showed it to someone he knew. It kind of took off from there. They wanted everything I had and more.”

  “A gift like this shouldn’t be hidden.” Cathal felt as though he was a child again, seeing his first carving. The feeling of awe had stayed with him a very long time, even after Christian had shown him how to find the figure hidden within a piece of wood and set it free. Christian, however, was never interested enough to take the craft further. It was Uncle Alden who had seen Cathal’s early attempts and taught him to really hone his abilities. He smiled. “Uncle Alden would love to see this. He’d swear he’d found Heaven.”

  “He’s into this stuff too?”

  Cathal nodded. “He is a craftsman, and taught me most of what he knows. Christian has some skill, but nothing like his father.” C
hristian’s skills lay in other directions. A thought occurred to Cathal. He noticed Donovan was still watching him carefully. “You’ve shown me this for a reason, haven’t you?”

  “Yeah.” Donovan gestured to the two chairs sitting in front of what looked to be some kind of electric fire. It stood in front of the original open fireplace, although it was nowhere the size of it. The chairs seemed out of place with the rest of the furniture in the room, old and designed for comfort rather than beauty. He leaned over and flicked on a switch, and immediately the bars on the electric fire began to glow red. “It’s cold in here. I’d freeze my ass off in winter without this, but I don’t want to risk a spark from a proper fire, not with all this wood in here.”

  “Understandable.” Cathal sat and waited for Donovan to speak. He was flushed, a mix of nervous and excited. Whatever he was going to say, it was of some importance to him.

  “I saw that pendant you gave Tomas.” Donovan smiled. There was a light in his eyes Cathal recognized. Tomas had something similar about him when he was discussing his writing. “You’ve got some serious talent there, Cat.”

  “Thank you.” Cathal shrugged. “I’m no craftsman. I just dabble a bit, although it is something I enjoy.”

  Donovan chuckled. “And here I’ve been told that I suck at accepting compliments. I know talent when I see it.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, and feel free to tell me to shove it if I’m overstepping a line here, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about. A proposition of sorts.”

  “I’m sure you’re not, and thank you for the compliment.” Cathal wondered what was going through Donovan’s mind. The growing nervousness he could feel from his friend was making him feel suddenly unsure about what this so-called proposition might entail.

  “As I said, there’s more of a demand for this stuff than I can keep up with.” Donovan leaned forward in his chair, his expression very serious. “I could do with a partner. If the pendant you carved for Tomas is anything to go by, I think you could be that person.”

  “Are you offering me employment?” Cathal raised an eyebrow.

  “A partnership, if things work out,” Donovan corrected. “You don’t strike me as a guy who would be happy not pulling his weight financially in a relationship, and although I can’t promise a lot of money in doing this, it would at least be a start.” His voice softened. “Tell me to butt out, if you want. I know it’s none of my business, and it’s going to be a while before Doug can get those IDs sorted out for you and Will.”

  “That’s a good point.” Cathal considered the proposition carefully. He had no intention of allowing Tomas to totally support him, although Tomas had already said he would be more than happy to do so. Heidi’s boyfriend, Doug, had a few favors to call in which would create identities for Cathal and Will, as legally they did not exist in this world. It seemed strange to him that someone working in law enforcement would consider doing something that was to all intents and purposes illegal, but Doug had shrugged. Cathal had a history here. The truth would just be more difficult to document and prove, so it would have to be stretched a little so their country of origin was somewhere known to the authorities. While Cathal was not totally without financial resources of his own, with the enchantment still in place, he had no way of accessing them, and it might be a while before he could.

  “We can keep it as casual as you want,” Donovan suggested. “Once you have some work to sell, I can do that for you, and we can see how it goes.

  “I do not want to be tied down to something just yet, so an arrangement such as you are suggesting would be for the best. I will work on some pieces, and we can go from there.” He would have a clearer idea of what would have the potential of fetching a reasonable price after examining the range of goods Donovan had already made and sold. “As to an actual partnership, although the idea has potential,” Cathal added slowly, “I’d like our future here to be a little more… secure first.”

  Donovan cocked his head. “I thought you and Tomas were planning to get married and stick around. At least, that’s what he seems to think.”

  “That is what I would like too,” Cathal said softly. He had every intention of taking Tomas in marriage. It was not a promise he’d made lightly. “However, while the portal remains open, there is no guarantee the Falcons will not come after us. I’ve learned only too well that they do not give up easily.” They’d arrested him and Christian in 1918 and dragged them back through the portal, and more recently threatened to hurt Tomas if Cathal did not comply with their commands and return with them. It was dangerous to ignore the risk they posed.

  “You’re not doing this on your own this time, Cat. There’s a few people they’d have to get through first.”

  “That wouldn’t stop them.” Cathal shook his head. “If they do come back, Donovan, promise me that you will not get involved. I do not want to see you or Heidi hurt.”

  “We’re already involved.” Donovan scowled. “It’s about time more people stood up to these assholes. I read Alice’s letters and know what Christian’s disappearance did to her. Tomas wasn’t much better, although it was only a few days before he went after you. Don’t expect me to stand back and do nothing.” The scowl turned into a glare. “I’ll do what I need to keep Heidi safe, but once she is, all bets are off.”

  “Knowing you would try to stop them is what concerns me.” Cathal reached over and laid a hand over Donovan’s. “The Falcons are ruthless. If they discover you know as much as you do about our world, it won’t be just Tomas and me they come after. You’re already at risk. Don’t make things worse by confirming any suspicions they may already have.”

  Donovan shrugged. “Tough. You guys are friends, at least as far as I’m concerned. I didn’t go through all that crap of not knowing what had happened to you during those six weeks you were both missing to just pretend it didn’t happen. There’s been far too much of that.”

  There was something about his tone that made Cathal look up and dare hope the words spoken were the truth. “If they considered you an enemy of our land, they would not hesitate to kill you,” he said softly. Perhaps some truth of his own was necessary. While he wanted and needed all the support that was offered, this was too high a price. “I know that neither Tomas nor Will have spoken much of what happened while we were in Rhosynoak. We were lucky to escape with our lives. You have taken us in and treated us as family. Very few would have done that. The payment for that will not be your lives.”

  “I’m not a kid, Cathal, and I can take care of myself. There’s also a lot you don’t know about me.” There was a look in Donovan’s eyes Cathal hadn’t seen before, a glimpse of something he’d only previously associated with very few.

  “You have experience in combat.” Cathal recognized the glint in Donovan’s eye, and the slightly out of focus look that was quickly followed by a shiver he tried to hide. He’d seen it in Uncle Alden, and in his own father after his return from battle.

  “Maybe.” Donovan grinned, but there was no emotion behind it, merely a combination of calm anger and sadness. “Don’t judge people until you get to know them. We’ve all got our secrets, not just you and your friends. Remember that.”

  “I didn’t mean to insult you.” Cathal had always had the sense Donovan was someone he wanted on his side. “It’s been a long time since I was able to be so open in my conversation with others. It is difficult to break the habit.” His fingers found a loose thread on the bottom of his shirt; he wound it around one finger. “Even in my own world of Naearu, I’ve had to be careful. Very few are aware that I lead the resistance, and it is safer that way. Not just for me but for those I care about.” He still wasn’t sure how Deryn had discovered that information.

  “Yeah, I can understand that.” Donovan stood and walked over to the corner, shifting several large boxes to reveal a small fridge. He opened it and took out two bottles, handing one to Cathal. “It’s beer,” he explained at Cathal’s puzzled expression.

  “I know wha
t beer is, Donovan.” Cathal was amused by the assumption. “I’m just used to it appearing in a tankard rather than a bottle.” He followed Donovan’s lead to gain access to the beverage inside.

  “That’s a relief,” Donovan said dryly. “I’d hate to visit your world sometime and find out that you guys didn’t have any beer.” He clinked his bottle against Cathal’s. “Here’s to friendship and a tentative partnership, then.”

  Apparently this was a toast of sorts. “To friendship, and we’ll take each day as it comes with the other.”

  “Works for me.” Donovan took a swig of beer.

  “There is one thing that I haven’t mentioned about my world that you should be aware of, though.” Cathal couldn’t resist adding a comment of his own.

  “Oh?” Donovan lowered the bottle from his lips, waiting.

  “We have beer, but there is no such thing as coffee.”

  Chapter 6

  CATHAL carefully balanced both coffee cups so they didn’t spill, knocked to give Tomas some warning he was coming in, and opened their bedroom door. “Sorry for interrupting, but there is about an hour before dinner so I thought you might appreciate the opportunity for a break. You’ve been working all afternoon.”

  “Hmm, coffee.” Tomas looked up from his laptop and smiled appreciatively. He had a pencil stuck behind one ear, and his writing journal was open on the desk. “I hope one of those is for me.”

  “Of course it is.” Cathal handed Tomas one of the cups and kissed him in greeting.

  “You taste of beer.” Tomas kissed Cathal again, making sure.

  “I had one with Donovan.” Cathal straddled Tomas’s lap when he pushed his chair out from the desk. “He’s offered me a business opportunity of sorts.”

  “What kind of business?” Tomas raised an eyebrow. “This wouldn’t be anything to do with you not wanting to be a”—he used his fingers to make quotation marks—“‘kept man’, would it?”