Like Madison, each sister wore the same dress time and time again. And like her, they knew they were in another place and time. One that called to them. They felt destined for. So when she dreamt about this house and met Adlin, they knew the future was closing in.
They had to come.
Had to help somehow.
Where others might be frightened, they weren’t. Not really. If anything, a few of them were frustrated by the concept, but only because it kept them from having a normal life here. How could they marry and have kids if they might have to leave and never come back? Because whatever called to them had a finality about it. A sense of no return.
A journey she believed was upon them now.
Something most certainly connected to the ancient-looking book Adlin had given her. Written by a man named Cian, it told of his adventures helping time travelers in ancient Scandinavia. He being a wizard king, no less from medieval Ireland. She could admit she'd been captivated with the idea of him ever since. As though perhaps she knew him from somewhere. Might have actually met him.
Which was impossible, of course.
Destiny and fantastical stuff aside, she imagined Adlin shared his tales and Cian’s book because people had a certain perception about her. How could they not when, up until six months ago, she had been renowned for her psychic abilities? Sought after to forecast people’s future with uncanny precision?
Skipping a muffin, she poured a cup of coffee and joined Riona outside. Naturally, she patted Luna hello, yet again marveling at how similar her personality was to her sister’s if such a thing were possible. Friendly, vivacious, and full of wanderlust and energy. Even their pale blue eyes were the same color.
“Ah, there you are.” Her sister stood directly beneath the tree now, taking snapshots up into the branches. “I thought you were gonna sleep all day.”
Madison yawned and shook her head. “It’s only nine.” She rolled her eyes. “But then, in your world, I suppose that means half the day’s already gone.”
Riona had always woken with the sun, enjoying the early hours of the day where Madison could do without them. Nighttime had always suited her better.
“The dayishalf gone.” Riona chuckled and kept taking shots as the wind sprinkled morning sunlight through the leaves. She turned the camera Madison’s way. “Step closer to the tree, sis. I want to see if you’ve got anything around you.”
“Seriously?” She frowned. “I just rolled out of bed. Not looking my best.”
“Yeah, right.” Riona nudged her along. “Natural beauties like you look best fresh out of bed.” She waved off her concern. “Besides, like I said, this is just to see what’s around you, then I’ll delete them.”
“Why would you think I have something around me?”
Well aware of how insistent Riona could be, she didn’t bother arguing but moved closer to the tree.
“I don’t know.” Her sister cocked her head and thought about it. “I guess maybe I figured if Oran was riled up by something besides Luna because hesowas, it might still be here.” She perked a brow. “Moreover, it might be attracted to you.”
“Ah.” She sipped her coffee. “And why would that be?”
“Because that bird is as close to you as Luna is to me.” She started to take a picture but stopped and narrowed her eyes. “You had our dream again, didn’t you?”
She understood why Riona phrased it that way. The four of them might have different dresses on, but the general consensus was that they were in the same place and time. Where Madison initially thought it might be medieval Scotland based on Adlin’s tales, after Cian’s book, she now thought otherwise.
Not Scotland but Ireland.
“Yeah, I had our dream.” She shook her head. “Only it was different this time.”
Riona resumed taking pictures of Madison. “Different how?”
“I entered the castle.”
“Oh my God.” Riona stopped and rounded her eyes. “What did it look like? Did you see the guy you always sensed there?”
“Yes.” She shook her head. “And no.”
How best to explain?
“I swear I did but can’t remember what he looked like. Only what he smelled like. Felt like.” She relayed the rest of the dream, then trailed off for a moment when she remembered something else. “And I heard him...them. They spoke another language, but I understood it.” More came to her. “At one point, he spoke to me in English.” A shiver of awareness shot through her at the rich timbre of his voice. “Definitely with an Irish accent.”
“So Ireland it is then,” Riona said softly, seeming far away for a moment before she snapped out of it, back to her usual peppy self in no time. “I’m up for it.”
