arrived in Navan. Only once did they have to switch to another path when they encountered a group of English. Gradually slowing his speed, he gave the signal for Ivar and Thomas’s man, Matthew, to lead the way.
Ambling along, they took the side road away from the main village. Apparently, the O’Quinlan lived farther back along the river and trees. The closer they approached, the more Alastair’s skin prickled with unease. Instinctively, he placed his hand on his sword. Winding through a large thicket of pine and birch trees, he brought them to a halt. In front of them were various cottages spread out along the hill. Alastair instantly recognized the largest stone structure as most likely belonging to the O’Quinlan.
Giving a nudge to his horse, they all proceeded down the path. Curious folk stole glances—others stared openly as they passed.
“There’s the O’Quinlan,” said Gunnar.
“Aye, and he does not look pleased,” stated Alastair, seeing the man’s arms crossed across his chest looking wary.
Dismounting from his horse, Alastair walked over to Niall. No sooner did he get within hearing than Niall let out, “Greetings, MacKay. What brings ye to Navan?”
“O’Quinlan. I bring ye one of your kin, though she claims she has none. ’Tis best we speak inside.”
Before Niall could acknowledge him, he dropped his hands and stepped past Alastair.
Fiona, with help from Gunnar, dismounted from her horse, and brushed a lock from her eyes.
“Sweet Danu,” he whispered. “Can it truly be?” Niall took his fingers to her chin and tilted her head up to meet his eyes.
Fiona looked at Alastair. “O’Quinlan,” warned Alastair.
“ Fee , ye have returned.” His tone one of shock.
Fiona eyes darted back to Niall. “My name is not Fee,” she protested.
“Nae, just my name for ye.”
“No, not true,” she mumbled, shaking her head in disbelief and scrunching her eyes closed.
He took her hands in his. “Your name is Fiona O’Quinlan, daughter of the great Hugh O’Quinlan and Aine. Ye are also my sister .”
Chapter Fifteen
“If the air smells of spices, then you are in the land of the Fae.”
Fiona’s knees buckled. Niall’s words slammed into her heart causing her world to tilt. Impossible, unfathomable, and incomprehensible.
“I’ve lost my mind,” she said closing her eyes again hoping when she opened them, the past few days would have been one of her nightmares.
Niall steadied her. “Nae, Fee, ’tis truth.”
“Let me go,” she gritted out.
“Open your eyes and hear me. Do ye not have any memory?”
She shirked out of his embrace. “Go away. You are all just a bad dream.”
“Fiona O’Quinlan, I see your stubborn streak has not left ye.”
Peeking open one eye, she paused. Fiona couldn’t deny the similarities in their features. For one, his eyes mirrored hers. And where her curls came to her chin, this man’s fell past his shoulders. Then, there was the nickname he called her. Fee. As if he plucked it out of her dream.
Shaking her head slowly, she opened the other eye. “How is this possible? I’ve never met you, yet you appear to know me so well. You say you are my brother, but I don’t have any siblings.”
She glanced over Niall’s shoulder expecting Alastair to intervene. He had the most peculiar look on his face, and he kept staring at Niall. What would they both say if she told them she went to sleep in the twenty-first century and awoke in the past? Wait, what past?
She averted Alastair’s eyes when she asked Niall, “What is the year?”
He rubbed a hand over his face, and she had the eerie sensation her brother was hiding something. “Fiona, let us withdraw into my home. We can discuss this further.”
“She will not be going anywhere until ye explain how her brother left his kin abandoned in Turnley,” stated Alastair, moving to block Fiona from entering his home.
She looked up at his face, but his wrath was for Niall. Was he concerned for
Ambling along, they took the side road away from the main village. Apparently, the O’Quinlan lived farther back along the river and trees. The closer they approached, the more Alastair’s skin prickled with unease. Instinctively, he placed his hand on his sword. Winding through a large thicket of pine and birch trees, he brought them to a halt. In front of them were various cottages spread out along the hill. Alastair instantly recognized the largest stone structure as most likely belonging to the O’Quinlan.
Giving a nudge to his horse, they all proceeded down the path. Curious folk stole glances—others stared openly as they passed.
“There’s the O’Quinlan,” said Gunnar.
“Aye, and he does not look pleased,” stated Alastair, seeing the man’s arms crossed across his chest looking wary.
Dismounting from his horse, Alastair walked over to Niall. No sooner did he get within hearing than Niall let out, “Greetings, MacKay. What brings ye to Navan?”
“O’Quinlan. I bring ye one of your kin, though she claims she has none. ’Tis best we speak inside.”
Before Niall could acknowledge him, he dropped his hands and stepped past Alastair.
Fiona, with help from Gunnar, dismounted from her horse, and brushed a lock from her eyes.
“Sweet Danu,” he whispered. “Can it truly be?” Niall took his fingers to her chin and tilted her head up to meet his eyes.
Fiona looked at Alastair. “O’Quinlan,” warned Alastair.
“ Fee , ye have returned.” His tone one of shock.
Fiona eyes darted back to Niall. “My name is not Fee,” she protested.
“Nae, just my name for ye.”
“No, not true,” she mumbled, shaking her head in disbelief and scrunching her eyes closed.
He took her hands in his. “Your name is Fiona O’Quinlan, daughter of the great Hugh O’Quinlan and Aine. Ye are also my sister .”
Chapter Fifteen
“If the air smells of spices, then you are in the land of the Fae.”
Fiona’s knees buckled. Niall’s words slammed into her heart causing her world to tilt. Impossible, unfathomable, and incomprehensible.
“I’ve lost my mind,” she said closing her eyes again hoping when she opened them, the past few days would have been one of her nightmares.
Niall steadied her. “Nae, Fee, ’tis truth.”
“Let me go,” she gritted out.
“Open your eyes and hear me. Do ye not have any memory?”
She shirked out of his embrace. “Go away. You are all just a bad dream.”
“Fiona O’Quinlan, I see your stubborn streak has not left ye.”
Peeking open one eye, she paused. Fiona couldn’t deny the similarities in their features. For one, his eyes mirrored hers. And where her curls came to her chin, this man’s fell past his shoulders. Then, there was the nickname he called her. Fee. As if he plucked it out of her dream.
Shaking her head slowly, she opened the other eye. “How is this possible? I’ve never met you, yet you appear to know me so well. You say you are my brother, but I don’t have any siblings.”
She glanced over Niall’s shoulder expecting Alastair to intervene. He had the most peculiar look on his face, and he kept staring at Niall. What would they both say if she told them she went to sleep in the twenty-first century and awoke in the past? Wait, what past?
She averted Alastair’s eyes when she asked Niall, “What is the year?”
He rubbed a hand over his face, and she had the eerie sensation her brother was hiding something. “Fiona, let us withdraw into my home. We can discuss this further.”
“She will not be going anywhere until ye explain how her brother left his kin abandoned in Turnley,” stated Alastair, moving to block Fiona from entering his home.
She looked up at his face, but his wrath was for Niall. Was he concerned for
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