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you can sling it over your shoulder.” He slipped the ax into the leather sleeve and showed her how to carry it on her right side. “I know you didn’t have time to train on using this, so if you have to swing it, use both hands.”

“Do you think the Council will recognize it as Erik’s?”

“I doan know.” He shrugged. “Maybe they’ll recognize the designs on the handle. They’re pretty weird.”

“Let’s go, Remy,” Elliott said.

Remy took his place on the other side of Henry. “Let’s rock and roll.”

Ensley linked arms with Kevin and Austin, and the rest of the family members linked up, forming one large circle.

“We all have maps of Jarlshof. If we get separated, retreat to the current airport location. We’ll move forward from there,” David said.

“And if we arrive during the battle described in David’s vision, don’t rush in to help. We need to stay together and work out our battle plan,” Connor said.

“I don’t have a map,” Henry said.

Kenzie snatched a document off the table that held extra copies of daily assignments, maps, and various instruction sheets and smacked it against Henry’s chest. “What other instructions did you miss?”

Henry gave her a subtle wink. “Well, Mom, until I don’t know something, I won’t know what instructions I missed.”

“Errr. You’re just messing with me, right?”

“Don’t worry, Kenz. I got my shit together,” Henry said.

“Don’t believe him, Mom,” Robbie said. “I saw a pile of it in the pasture.”

Elliott sighed—a small one, barely audible. The sound of a surprisingly patient man summoning up his reserves. He steepled his index fingers and pressed them against the bridge of his nose.

“Watch Elliott,” Ensley whispered to Austin. “He’s trying to be patient because the alternative is to tell everyone to leave the barn so he can go by himself.”

“That’ll never happen.”

Ensley whispered to Robbie. “Tell your grandpa it’ll be okay.”

Robbie looked at her like she had two heads. “He knows that, Ensley. If he didn’t, he’d be yelling at Henry and me.”

He had a point, so Ensley decided to forget about Elliott and focused on going through the vortex again. She’d be going farther this time. Would it be bumpier? Have a few extra loops and dips? Or would it be a smooth flight? With this many people, would they bump into each other?

“One more thing, if ye’re in a tight spot and out of options, use yer brooch and go home,” Elliott said.

“It’s time. Everyone picture Tavis in yer mind and say, ‘Take me to Tavis.’” David opened the diamond brooch and recited the chant…

“Chan ann le tìm no àite a bhios sinn a’ tomhais an’ gaol ach ’s ann le neart anama.”

Unlike the other trips, Ensley relaxed as the fog engulfed her, and she let it carry her away while images of Tavis flashed through her mind.

We’re coming, Tavis. We’re coming to bring you home.

77

Jarlshof (1125)—Tavis

Tavis and Joseph, his three-year-old son, were climbing up the high rocky spur capped by the Sumburgh Head—the name used in the future—when the watchman sounded the Gjallarhorn. The wind and the pounding surf almost drowned out the deep, stirring bellow.

The settlement used the horn for warnings, celebrations, and wakes. There was nothing to celebrate, and no one had died recently, which meant trouble had reached their shores.

He hadn’t seen any longboats on the eastern side of the Shetland mainland’s southern tip, nor had he seen any tracks from possible invaders. So if longboats had arrived, they’d be at anchor in the cove on the western side.

The cliffs he and Joseph climbed were home to flocks of seabirds, mostly puffins. Tavis had caught three in his net for Helga, Erik’s widowed sister, to prepare fresh, salted in brine for the evening meal. He slung the net holding the captured birds over his shoulder and adjusted his ax so it’d be handy.

“Hurry, Joseph. Something’s happening at the settlement.”

“I fight, too, Dad.”

“Let’s see what the problem is before you draw your dagger.”

Joseph climbed ahead of Tavis with unusual agility and balance, far more advanced than the other children living in the settlement. Joseph wasn’t bigger or taller than other children his age, but from the time he was six months old, Tavis carried him around on his broad back, taught him how to swim before he could walk, and how to climb before he could run. And Joseph’s agility extended to sailing. He had just gained his sea legs, and Tavis loved their days sailing in the cove when he would let his mind wander, remembering his days at the Naval Academy.

But his kid was his life, and he loved Joseph more than he thought it was possible to love another person. And if they had to spend the rest of their lives on this goddamn island, Tavis would make the best of it—for Joseph’s sake, if not for his own.

Joseph stopped climbing and looked over his shoulder. “Dad, maybe the horn is announcing Grandpa Elliott has come for us.”

“One day, he will come. We must be ready.”

“That’s why we climb the cliffs. To be strong.”

“Yes, buddy. To be strong and catch birds in our nets.”

“But not to fight, to talk first. Right, Dad? That’s why I learned English, too. But what if the Council doesn’t let me leave when the Keeper comes?”

“Then we will grow old here together. And when you take your place on the Council and wear Erik’s brooch, you can go to Grandpa Elliott’s time to meet him. But you must never tell anyone what you intend to do.”

“If I tell, the Council will never trust me with a brooch.”

They reached the top of the cliffs and took off in a run toward the settlement, but when they were still a hundred yards away, Tavis pulled Joseph to the ground, and they stretched out flat in the grass.

“Be still, ignore the sound of the wind, and tell me what you hear.”

Joseph closed his eyes. “Flapping like large birds. Sails. Iron against iron. Swords and axes. Voices of

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