“Now Sorcha, stole is a harsh word.” Sean’s blunted fingers knotted in his lap. “The stories say it disappeared around the time you went to America.”

“Why would I take it? Warriors weren’t even allowed to see the book then, much less touch it.”

“They still aren’t, but the clan figured you had a reason,” Sean said. “It’s caused a bit of worry over the decades, not knowing if it was locked inside the time vault with you or if a demon had stolen it. Since it never turned up, they assumed it was with you. The Seeker couldn’t tell if it was there.”

“I’d never even seen the book until now.”

“Until now? So you do have it?” Sorcha asked.

“Bree found it in her attic. It’s safely hidden, but I didn’t steal it.” He would’ve brought it, but he hadn’t been certain of his welcome, and it was too valuable to be dragged across the sky in a metal bird that could crash and burn.

“It’s safe. Thank God.” Sean’s shoulders slumped. “That’s one less thing to fret about.”

“But if Faelan didn’t take it, who did?” Duncan asked. “And how did it end up halfway around the world?”

“Would Quinn have taken the book?” Sean asked of no one in particular. “The clan always assumed he went to find it.”

Sorcha looked affronted. “Why would he do that?”

“Because he was charged with keeping it safe,” Faelan told them. “Michael warned me the book was in danger before I left for America. I told Quinn, and he said he’d move the book.”

“But why take it to America?” Sorcha asked.

“Faelan’s brothers were going there anyway, to meet him. Perhaps Quinn thought it was best away from Scotland,” Sean said.

“Wouldn’t he have informed the Council?” Duncan asked.

“Not if he didn’t know where the threat came from,” Faelan said.

“You think the danger came from inside the clan?” Sorcha asked.

“I don’t know, but some of the pages are missing.”

Sean gripped the arms of his chair. “Which ones?”

Faelan hated to tell them, because they would know he’d looked inside. “Near the end. I didn’t read the book, just checked to see that it wasn’t damaged.”

“Ah, those. Don’t fret. They’ve been missing for centuries, according to the Keepers. No one even remembers what they were. It’s our clan mystery.”

“A clan mystery,” Bree said in awe.

“At least you have the book,” Sean said. “Most of the knowledge has been passed down orally, but there’s no measuring the damage exposing those names could do.”

“You’re the Keeper of the Book,” Bree blurted.

“I am,” Sean said. “Not that there’s a book to keep, since it disappeared. The Keepers have tried to put together as much information as they could from other documents.” Each clan had its own book. Every half a millennium, a new one was given.

“Since Michael warned Faelan the book was in danger, it would make sense that Druan was involved,” Tomas said.

“That was my thought,” Faelan said. “Druan could have stolen it.”

“Quinn was probably tracking it,” Sorcha said.

“Who’s Michael?” Bree asked.

“He’s a warrior,” Faelan said.

Sorcha toyed with the hilt of her sgian dubh, and Faelan wondered why she carried it. “Before you put Druan in the time vault,” she said to Faelan, “I want a piece of him. He’ll pay for my great-great-grandfather’s life.”

“That’s suicide. You may be a warrior,” Duncan said, “but Faelan is the only one who can touch Druan.”

Faelan had grown adept at hiding emotions, but his mouth dropped. “You’re a warrior?”

“Times have changed while you slumbered,” Sorcha said. “We have many female warriors and Watchers.”

Faelan closed his mouth. Had the world gone mad? What next? Would they send children into battle?

“But some don’t know when to back off,” Duncan muttered.

“And some don’t know when to mind their own business,” Sorcha fired back.

It seemed Bree’s penchant for boldness wasn’t unique. “In my day, women were to be cherished and protected,” Faelan said.

“You can protect our backs while we fight alongside you and cherish us when we defeat the enemy.”

Damnation. What had happened to the sane world he’d left behind where women minded hearth and home?

“So women can be warriors and Watchers now?” Bree asked with a smug look.

Like a female warrior wasn’t ludicrous enough.

“Aye, but only one or the other. Never both,” Sean said.

“Isn’t Sorcha a Watcher?” Bree asked. “She has dreams.”

“Warriors often have dreams as well.”

“Would Angus have brought a time vault?” Faelan asked. “I found one in the cellar of the chapel next to the graveyard.”

Bree choked on her wine. “My chapel? There’s a time vault in my chapel? And you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t want—”

“I know. You didn’t want to worry me. There are demons running around my backyard trying to kill me. After all that’s happened, I can’t believe you would keep this from me. It’s my chapel.” Her eyes were sharp as dirks, making him long for the days when the women would’ve been in the kitchen cooking. “Wait. The chapel doesn’t have a cellar.”

“Aye, it does. The steps were behind the wall that collapsed.”

“I have a hidden cellar?” Her eyes sparkled with excitement, momentarily dousing her anger.

“The wall that hid the entrance was old, but I figured there might be another way into the cellar, something a warrior could’ve used recently.”

“I don’t think so,” Bree said. “But I didn’t know about the hidden door, either. Grandma never mentioned it. Isabel did say something in the journal about someone hiding slaves. I wonder if someone was using the cellar as part of the Underground Railroad.”

“If so, there could be a tunnel. Would your mother know?” Faelan asked.

“I’ll check with her.”

“A warrior from Canada was supposed to arrive a few days ago to help Sorcha and Angus,” Sean said, “but we haven’t heard from him yet. I suppose he or Angus could have brought a time vault and hid it after the wall collapsed.”

“Is this Austin the one who helped Sorcha last year?” Duncan asked, frowning.

Sorcha bristled. “Stop acting like a Neanderthal, cousin. You’re not my bloody bodyguard.”

Duncan cursed and stormed out, letting the door slam behind him. A few in the room chuckled, but most paid no attention.

Faelan hid a grin and wondered if Tavis had also risen from his grave.

“I think Angus would have told us if he needed a time vault,” Sean mused. “Same for Austin.”

“If Druan’s been reassigned, another warrior could have brought it for him.”

Sean shook his head. “I think we would have heard if an ancient demon had been assigned. Was there a key to this time vault?”

“No key. And no sign of another warrior.” Could it be the archeologist? How long had Bree known him?

“Maybe the time vault was for Tristol, Malek, or Voltar,” Bree said.

Sean looked puzzled. “The demons of old?”

“They rode with Druan that night,” Faelan said.

A pall fell over the room. “You’re sure, lad?” Sean asked, alarmed.

“I’m sure.” Other than Druan, Faelan hadn’t seen the ancient demons’ human forms. They protected that knowledge like the warriors protected their talismans and time vaults. But there wasn’t a warrior alive, at least in Faelan’s day, who hadn’t heard the stories from his father and seen clan sketches of the demons of old in their natural forms.

“That’s disturbing, it is,” Sean said, the wrinkles in his forehead growing deeper.

“I think they were helping Druan with the war. I don’t think they knew about the disease, Druan’s virus. Tristol was angry when I confronted Druan about it.”

“Too bad Tristol didn’t kill Druan for us. I’d have paid to see that fight.” Sorcha lifted her glass to blood-red lips.

“There’ve been rumors about the horror those four have wrought in the past, but they haven’t been spotted this century,” Sean said. “We’d hoped some of them had died.”

“I’m afraid we have more to worry about than ancient demons,” Faelan said. “Druan’s castle is an exact duplicate of this one.”

The room fell silent again, then everyone began to whisper.

Sean’s voice rose out of the din. “You’ve seen it?”

“We both have,” Faelan said, motioning to Bree. “In fact, we have a map of the inside. The only differences are some of the secret passages.”

“Could Druan have seen this place?” Brodie asked.

“Not likely, or he would’ve tried to destroy it,” Faelan said.

“Maybe there was a traitor,” Sorcha said, holding Faelan’s gaze.

“Even more puzzling, the castle is cloaked by some sort of spell.”

Tomas frowned. “Cloaked?”

“It’s invisible. That must be how he’s stayed hidden. I searched the area before. There was no sign of his lair.”

“What do you mean it’s invisible?” Bree asked. “The castle was right there.”

“You saw it, lass?” Sean asked, shocked.

“Of course. You didn’t?” she asked Faelan.

He shook his head. “All I saw was a field and trees. I found where you’d hidden your car, and I walked across the road, right into a tree.”

“But how—”

Further speculation was interrupted as Coira announced another group of warriors arriving. For hours the festivities continued, everyone smiling and hugging, bombarding Faelan with questions, comparing the current world with the one he’d known, whispering about ancient demons, invisible castles, and the American Civil War until he ached for quiet.

“Would you mind if I spoke to Bree?” he asked, interrupting her conversation with Sean.

“What do you want?” She was still upset.

“I want to apologize for not telling you about the other time vault and the cloaking spell. I didn’t want to—”