Timeless (52 page)

His smile was surprising and rueful. “Yes.” He grew serious again. “Mr. Nicodemus would like to see you now. I’ve already spoken with Dr. Malone. He’s given you permission to leave for a short time.”

Anxiety twisted her stomach. She’d expected to have a few more minutes to prepare. Henry grasped her arm to help her up.  He shot her a questioning look.

“I’ll be back in a little while,” she said, her voice breathy with nerves.

Argus led the way up the stairs. “Mr. Lamont is waiting for us at the dock. Mr. Nicodemus is excited to hear about your theory and to share some new information that’s been uncovered. A journal, or actually a partial journal has been discovered.”

Regan waited for a wave of excitement that didn’t come. She raised her brows as though interested.

“There’s also a translation of a letter that was written in Ogham some seven to nine hundred years ago.” He stopped midway down the hill to look up at her. His bird black eyes searched her expression. “We’ve destroyed it, haven’t we?”

“Destroyed what, Mr. Argus?”

“That wonderful excitement and enthusiasm you had when you first arrived.”

Unable to keep the bitterness from her tone, she said, “What difference does it make if I care about what I’m doing here anymore, as long as I find the answers Mr. Nicodemus wants? That’s all you’ re interested in, too, isn’t it?”

He remained silent a moment. “He’s not nearly the monster you think he is.”

She bit back the words,
yes he is
and looked away. “I want to get this behind me and go home, Mr. Argus. I want Quinn and his family to do the same. That’s what I’m working toward.”

He nodded though a frown worked its way across his face and remained. He motioned for her to precede him down the dock.

Lamont waited next to a
Bayliner
and stepped forward to help Regan into the boat.  She ignored the hand he offered and jumped into the back unaided. “I’d rather you sit up front,” he said, before she could take a place.

Regan shrugged, stepped between the bucket seats in front and sat in the passenger seat.

Argus settled behind her, and Lamont slid into the driver’s seat and fired the engine. He put the boat in reverse and backed it away from the dock. Regan’s gaze strayed to the
Grannos
in hopes of catching a glimpse of Quinn. Just seeing him might settle the nerves cramping her stomach and making her legs shake. Rob and Logan stood at the railing watching but only Logan raised a hand.

She returned his wave then focused her attention to the shoreline as Lamont shoved the gearshift forward and the nose of the
Bayliner
rose taking them out into the center of the loch.

*****

Quinn screwed the cover onto the generator connect box. The box would act as an on and off switch to the electricity the huge diesel backup generator would run to the electrical probes he meant to put in place. The metal posts, already cut, stood against the bulkhead between the dry suits and the storage tank they used to refill the air bottles.

“You’re full of shite, Rob,” Logan’s voice carried to him. “’Tis jealousy plain and simple that keeps you after this. You haven’t the courage ”

“Shut up, Logan. She’s a crazy bitch just like Marissa Frost. She’s probably making a deal with Nicodemus right now.”

Quinn tossed the wire strippers onto the table. He didn’t have time for this shite. He stepped through the machine room hatch and eyed his two brothers. Logan had squared off and was close to throwing a punch, and for once he was tempted to let him.

“Logan, there’s a diesel generator in the storage shed behind the main office. Fill the tank and wheel it down to the site, just outside the chamber.”

Logan struggled to harness his anger. He continued to glare at Rob, his cheeks flushed with heat, his fist doubled.  He swore, his tone raw, the words ugly and stomped off toward the johnboat tethered to the
Grannos.

Quinn waited until he started the motor and turned the boat toward the dock before he faced Rob. “Regan’s ending her contract with Nicodemus. We talked about it before she left this morning.”

Rob’s features remained flushed with anger. “I’m not jealous of her. I just— You’re making a mistake.”

Quinn wiped a hand across his jaw. “Then it’s my mistake to make.” For a moment he allowed his anger full rein. “But the next time you call her a crazy bitch, you’ll not be standing long enough to say it a second time. If you canna be civil to her, or keep a civil tongue when talking about her, you need to take yourself away from us both.”

“What did she say I said?” Rob asked his fists double. “She’s lying if she said I was anything —”

Quinn cut him off. “She never mentioned anythin’ about you, but I’ll be asking her about what you may have said when she returns from her meeting.”

Frustration whipped across Rob’s face. “What if she goes crazy like ma— her mother?”

“What if she gets cancer, or something else? You canna love someone and dwell on the what ifs, you love them despite them.” Quinn’s tone deepened to a growl. “I’ve had enough of this, Rob.”

Rob’s cheeks grew red with heat. He turned aside and stormed off below decks.

“Hard headed fucker,” Quinn breathed.

And what about their own ma tying herself to their father and drowning? Was all this  about ma, and not Regan at all? That one event had changed their lives as no other—until now. He returned to the machine room and went back to work.

*****

The smell of death hung over the room. Nicodemus dragged in a breath from the oxygen tubing beneath his nose. His body appeared more skeletal than the last time Regan had seen him. He held court in the living room of the cabin as though it were a throne room. MacBean and Lamont stood directly behind his chair.

Regan set aside the journal translation Argus had given her to read. She swallowed against the tears that blocked her throat. Braden’s steadfast loyalty to Coira had been a testament to his love. He had never stopped looking for her body. His pain had reached through every word Nathrach had recorded. Where the church records had been a puzzle, this personal diary had been riddled with the priest’s innermost thoughts and observations about the community, and in particular about Braden and Coira as well as the henge.  He had painted a picture of Braden’s grief that wrenched her heart and tore at her composure.

“You were right about the earthquake,” Nicodemus said.

Aware of the four men watching her, and fearful how her voice might sound at the moment, Regan nodded.

 Andrew Argus stepped forward with another paper. “This is the letter I mentioned to you. It’s been translated and modernized in language, but the content and key phrases have been kept intact,” he explained.

Relieved to focus on something besides the emotional maelstrom the journal had wrought, Regan focused on the words before her.

Love asks for you to believe, and you have with blind faith. We know time passes in a blink of an eye, though it seems to drag its weary feet to keep us apart. Our fates are entwined, our lives mirrors of what a gift love can be.

And though as travelers we shall walk through byways that will take us to distant times and places, we shall continue to find each other.  We will return better, stronger, and more whole each time. And some day that wholeness, that strength, will be enough to bind our souls.

And though we shall travel again and again to this land whose stones are iron, they will one day free us from this never-ending journey. I must cling to that belief, as you, my love, must, too.

I shall write these words upon the posts of thy house and on thy gate so you may remember them, and understand their worth. We will be together again some day.

Because out of time comes the answer. Out of love comes faith. And we shall one day walk beneath the sun of love’s warmth together. And though it has been torture being parted for so very long, we have learned that love’s power lasts longer than any time and place. It is forever— Timeless.

Recognition struck her. It was a love letter carved upon the monoliths to help Braden to maintain his faith that they would one day be together again. But that wasn’t all that had been gouged into the stones. Were you trying to warn others about the dangers, Coira?  Were you trying to warn them of the never-ending cycle you were trapped in?

“Is any of this familiar, Regan?” Nicodemus asked, his voice weak and labored.

“Yes.”

The four men seemed to freeze. Shock plain in their expressions.

“How so?” Nicodemus asked.

“I have been studying the Ogham for weeks since I arrived. Some of this has been carved on the stones.”

“It took an expert nearly a year to translate this. How can you be sure?” Argus asked.

“I can take you to some of the key words and you can compare them, if you like.”

Nicodemus motioned for him to sit down. “What else have you discovered?” he asked.

“I can’t prove it, but I believe there is something beneath the two main stones that acts as a conductor of the electricity generated when lightning strikes the henge. It is electricity that creates a magnetic field between those two stones.”

 Argus leaned forward. “Is that what healed Mr. Douglas’s hand?’

“Yes.”

Nicodemus clenched his boney fists upon the arms of his chair. A smile stretched his lips.

Regan shuddered and looked away. “Quinn and I want to conduct an experiment on those two stones, but we can’t unless the chamber is cleared.”

“What kind of experiment?” he asked.

“We want to plant probes at the base of each stone and run electricity through them to see if we can generate the same magnetic field. If one lightning strike that lasts a nanosecond can do it, perhaps a steady stream can do it as well.”

“What are the risks to the monoliths?” Argus asked.

“They’ve survived beneath water for more than seven hundred years, and multiple lightning strikes since being uncovered. I don’t think a few volts will harm them.”

Nicodemus’s gaze searched her face. “And what do you want if this should work, Regan?”

“I want to be released from my contract. And your word to never come near me or Quinn, or our families, ever again.”

He rested his head back against his chair and remained silent a long moment. “You will one day be one of the leading archaeologists in your field. You are already on your way with all you have discovered here. I could help you get what you want more quickly.”

Though the room remained warm, her hands and feet had grown cold. Her heart felt as though it pumped sludge through her veins. Clasping her fingers in her lap to keep them from trembling, she forced her gaze to meet his. “I’d rather get there on my own.”

He frowned, and the bones of his face seemed to tighten beneath the yellow skin thin with illness. “If this works, you may have what you want.”

His tone sounded more like a threat than a promise. Making a deal with him was like making a pact with the devil. There would always be a double edge.

She swallowed. “You’ll want to be there, in case this should work.”

He tilted his head. “I shall be there.”

“And you will have to speak with Dr. Fraser about clearing the site about seven.”

“It will be arranged.”

She rose. “May I keep the letter?”

Nicodemus studied her for a moment then tilted his head in acquisition. “What really happened in that room during your session with Dr. Reinhart?”

Regan froze. To reveal what she knew about Coira might put everything they planned in jeopardy. Nicodemus had no interest in ending anyone’s suffering, but his own.

She turned to face him once more. “I really don’t know.”

Disappointment flickered across his features, then anger. He raised his hand in a dismissive gesture.

Once outside, Regan dragged clean air into her lungs and fought the urge to shake the tension from her arms and hands. Wary prickles of unease flowed from the base of her skull to the bottoms of her feet as MacBean dogged her steps down the trail to the small dock.

Grateful he showed no courtesy in offering to help her into the boat, she took her place in the passenger seat of the boat, and shifted as far as she could get away from him.

“You’d better hope this works,” he said, his voice a growl. He started the boat.

CHAPTER 48

Heavy electrical cables snaked down the hill and across the scaffold to the opening of the chamber. It was amazing what desperation and money could provide in just a few hours. Andrew Argus had supplied everything he’d asked for in an afternoon. Including the help he’d needed to lay the line and a produce a circuit that encompassed the stones.

Quinn tugged off his gloves and stuck them in the back pocket of his jeans.  He hopped up on the edge of the scaffold and reached for the bottle of water he’d left there. “’Twould seem you were right, Regan. There’s something beneath the stones.”

“Rock?” Regan dragged a sheet of three quarter inch plywood to the end of the scaffold where he worked and laid it down.

“Well, it’s solid enough to bend the pipes we used as a probe.”

“Sometimes it’s a bitch always being right.” She dried the back of his neck with a towel. He grasped a corner of the terrycloth and wiped his face.

He motioned to the electrical setup he and the crew of four electricians had devised. “If giving the rocks a charge will get them going, there’s a chance this will work.”

“How many volts will the generator produce?”

“Enough voltage to run all of the buildings on the site, and then some. It should be powerful enough to jumpstart these things.” He rested a muddy boot upon one of the stones.

“I want this over with, Quinn. He promised we’d never have to see him again. But I don’t trust him.”

Though his own instincts were screaming for him to run as fast and as far as he could from the site, he sought to ease her fear. He leaned forward to press his cheek to hers and whisper in her ear. “The timer is going, lass. We just have to make it through the next few hours, and it will be over.” He drew back to look into her eyes.