Though I’d never say it, I would have felt better with Doug running the show. I knew he’d taught Moira all he could about the mushroom-topped devices. And he’d assured us that he had preset the devices to bring us back in precisely seventy-two hours, the exact length of time the Dim ever allowed. All Moira would have to do is act as monitor. Still, Doug knew those machines better than anyone except maybe Tesla himself. So it was more than a bit disconcerting that he’d be powerless to help if something in this time went wrong.
Didn’t help my nerves to dwell on it, though. So I joined Phoebe in her corner, huddling next to her when the cavern’s chill bled through the layers and burrowed into my bones.
“Here you are, lamb.” Moira stood before me, holding out the ancient doll. Invisible stitching had repaired the ripped dress. The spots of new paint were barely noticeable. And the missing hunks of hair had been painstakingly reinserted. She looked good as new. Well, as good as a doll with twelve (or—?depending on how you looked at it—?more than four hundred and fifty) years under her belt could look.
“Wanted you to see how well we’d fixed her up before you . . . well.” Moira swallowed. “And when you return, you can thank your mum for replacing that missing chunk o’ hair. Stayed up all night, she did.”
Her papery hand rested on my cheek before pulling me into a smooshy, grandmotherly embrace that made my eyes sting. With her other arm, she brought Phoebe in for a three-person hug. After a few seconds, Phoebe’s stiff posture melted and she squeezed us both with a strangling ferocity.
Before I could give the doll back for safekeeping, Moira abruptly released us and hurried over to Mac. They held a short private conversation, then Mac’s gnarled hands rose to cup Moira’s round face. He leaned down and touched his forehead to hers as he whispered softly to her in Gaelic. Moira pulled back, smiling up at her husband of forty years as she said something back.
I couldn’t quite make it out, but next to me, Phoebe sighed.
“What did they say?”
My friend turned to glance at Doug, who was doing last-minute checks on the machines. “Well,” she began, her voice thick. “’Tis from a poem by Rabbie Burns, see? Mac said, ‘As fair art thou, my bonie lass, So deep in luve am I; And I will luve thee still, my Dear, Till a’ the seas gang dry.’”
Inside my chest, my heart contracted into a painful knot as Phoebe went on. “And then Gram, she . . . she answered, ‘And fare thee weel, my only Luve. And fare thee weel, a while. And I will come again, my Luve, Tho’ it were ten thousand mile.’”
“Ohh,” was all I could manage.
“All right, everyone,” Moira exclaimed, voice cracking only a bit. “You’ll be arriving just after dawn on March eleventh at 0721. That’s seven twenty-one a.m., a’ right? I expect to see all of you back, safe and . . .” She trailed off and took a deep breath. “Oh, let’s just get this damn thing over with.”
Phoebe—?anger at Doug not quite gone—?leapt up, and without hesitation picked up her carpeted bag and marched over to take her place in the exact center of the chamber. I followed at a more reluctant pace. Moira checked us over, confirming that each person’s opal lodestone was secure. Tucked safely inside the high-necked gown, my pendant twitched and warmed against my skin.
Mac and Doug flashed thick men’s rings. Collum plucked at the plain silver chain that ran beneath his white shirt. Moira grimaced as Phoebe patted her belly.
All hell had broken loose when Phoebe and Doug had returned from a trip to Edinburgh a few weeks earlier, Phoebe gleefully sporting a new bellybutton piercing complete with fire-opal stick pin.
“But, Gram,” Phoebe had explained. “At least you won’t have to worry that I’ll lose it.”
Trying to keep myself from running like hell for the stairwell, I focused on the black and white mosaic beneath my buttoned boots.
The same ancients who carved out this chamber had also imbedded tens of thousands of black and white stone chips into the floor. The design—?a sideways figure eight that represented infinity, crossed over with three wavy lines—?indicated the spot where the portal to the Dim would appear. Lucinda and those before her believed that the long-lost people who had created the chamber had done so out of worship, and that they’d recognized it as a place of immense power.
But it had been the combination of technology and the ethereal that had—?accidentally—?helped the early Viators discover the place’s true potential.
With a loud, finite pop, the buzz and whine from the Tesla devices amped up until the sound drilled into my eardrums. Purple jolts of electricity began to crackle around the silvery metal of the twin mushroom tops. Building. Building.
The first time I stood here, waiting for the Dim to take me to some great unknown, I’d at least had ignorance on my side. Dressed in a furred cape and long gown of the medieval period, I’d had no idea what I was facing.
I think that was better.
Between them, Doug and Collum hoisted the period-appropriate leather trunk that housed our spare costumes and supplies. One hand gripping each handle, they braced themselves while Mac gave us all one last comforting nod.
Clutching my own carpetbag so hard the wooden grips dug into my palm, I looked at Collum. Some of my growing terror must have shown because he edged a bit closer, taking my free hand in his.
“Be at peace, lass,” he said. “All is well.”
Squeezing his hand so hard I was sure his bones would break, I clustered close with the other four as the surges of electricity built higher and higher above our heads.
Shaking all over now, I willed myself to breathe. In—?two, three. Out—?two, three. It wasn’t working. My breaths were coming too quick. The bones in my legs were turning to rubber as everything that could possibly go wrong flashed before my eyes. I locked my knees to keep from crumpling to the cold floor.
“John MacPherson,” Moira cried from her place next to the screaming machines. “You bring yerself and those bairns back to me safe and sound, you hear me?”
“Aye!” Mac called back. “Always. Mo chridhe!”
With a shriek of power, the electrical pulses clashed together high above our heads. The force they created interrupted the flow of the ley lines, forming a vacuum. From every direction, the natural power tried to force its way through the interruption, causing a hurricane wind to build around us. Something dug into my side and I realized I still clutched the doll in my hand. It was too late to hand her off, and I clenched her under one arm as the two forces—?man’s and nature’s—?battled each other. A translucent cylinder began to rise, rise up around us, enclosing us within its protective shield.
“Time!” Moira shouted, voice hoarse. “Go with God’s blessing and with mine, dear ones!”
The five of us inhaled a collective breath as Moira clasped the upraised switch with both hands and slammed it down.
Chapter 15
I’D TRIED TO PREPARE MYSELF FOR A REPEAT PERFORMANCE of the experience I had the first time the Dim had taken me. Then, I’d careened helplessly through an infinite darkness broken only by the images of a thousand decaying faces. But this time, as my body and mind exploded into millions of individual particles, a memory slammed into me with the force of a sledgehammer. I could only watch, as if the small child I’d been was a character in a beloved movie, seen through a faraway lens.