“Shortly after Hunter was born, I came to see him. As I left, his father got caught up in my wake and was taken to the future with me. He died before I could return him to his home. Time travel is not an exact science, you see. One cannot always predict—”
“So that left Hunter without his father, which led his mother to return to our village, which in turn led to the illness that took his mother and his hearing,” Malcolm surmised.
“That is so.” Giselle nodded. “If I had not sent Alethia when I did, my grandson would have perished over the winter.”
“Humph. You chose my wife because you knew the two would have an affinity?”
“Yes. Hunter needed her, and only she could save him.”
“What about the visions, Giselle? When the Comyns threatened the MacKintosh, I had visions. Are they part of my hidden talents?” she asked.
“Yes and no. I cannot be certain. You carry a daughter who has gifts of her own. It may be her power mingles with yours, and that is why the visions were possible. It may also be that in times of trouble you will receive visions to guide you.” Giselle smiled. “I have no control over such things.”
“I have another question, if you dinna mind my asking.” Malcolm looked at Alethia as he spoke.
“What is it you wish to know, warrior?”
“My wife has told me about the wonders of her century. She has shared with me many of the miracles healers from her time can perform. I fear for her life when the time comes to deliver our babe. So many women perish during childbirth…”
“Malcolm, you’ve never said anything about this to me.” Alethia grabbed his hand, sensing what he would say next and wishing to stop him. “I’ll be all right.”
“I canna bear the thought of losing you, True.”
“What is it you wish to ask, Malcolm?” Giselle interrupted.
“Is it possible to send us to the future when my wife’s time comes? Could anything be done about Hunter’s hearing in the twenty-first century?”
Stunned, she realized he’d been giving this a great deal of thought. He’d intended to ask these questions since he’d learned the truth about her origins.
“Hmm, if it is his hearing that concerns you, give the lad to me.” Giselle reached for Hunter, who took that as a signal to climb like a monkey up his foster father and cling to his back—as far from Giselle as he could possibly get without leaving his parents. Malcolm pried him loose and handed him to his grandmother—many times removed.
Hunter kept his eyes locked on Alethia and signed frantically, “I don’t like this. Please, Ma, I don’t like her. She scares me.”
Alethia leaned forward, intending to take him from Giselle, only to be stopped by a push of pure energy.
“I mean him no harm, child. This will take only a moment.” Giselle blew into one of his ears, then the other. Then she placed her hands over both and closed her eyes for a moment. Satisfied, she handed him back to Alethia.
“What did you do?” she asked.
At the sound of her voice, Hunter covered his ears and made a sound of distress. He scrambled into her lap, and Alethia hugged him tight to her chest.
“He hears. It will take some time for him to adjust,” Giselle answered. “As to your other question, Malcolm, no, I cannot send you to the future. It is forbidden. I had to set things right after taking Hunter’s father from him. It is our law and the only reason I could bring Alethia here to you.”
Giselle shook her head as Malcolm made to argue. “Do not fear. Though I cannot send you to the future, I can bestow upon you a blessing. The little family you protect is dear to me, warrior. I grant you this boon. Know that the two of you shall live a long and happy life together. You shall have six strong and healthy children, and all will survive. When you need help the most, help shall find you.” She rose from her place and moved toward the back of her tent to draw something from a large old trunk.
Alethia’s eyes went wide, and she leaned back in the chair. Six children? And all healthy. She would have the big family she’d always dreamed of after all—a family her gran, cousins, uncles and aunties would never meet. Regret stole her breath, and she glanced at her husband, grounding herself in his strength and presence.
He’d straightened in his chair and puffed out his chest. A dazed, happy expression suffused his features. His obvious pride at Giselle’s revelation brought a smile to her face. Her future was here with him, and life in the twenty-first century would go on without her.
“This is for you, Alethia.”
Giselle’s voice brought her back to attention. She handed her a small lap harp, like the ones used by the bards in this era.