Our Time Is Now by Chloe Douglas

Author:Chloe Douglas
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction / Romance / Time Travel, Fiction / Romance / General, Fiction / Romance / Suspense, Fiction / Science Fiction / Time Travel
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2014-12-01T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

It’s a killing moon, Gideon noted as he rode across the dew-dampened meadow. The luminous, orange orb was bisected with inky bands of striated clouds, making it appear as though the full moon bled from a fatal, celestial wound. A bracing wind blew against his back, causing the leaves on the nearby trees to quiver on their branches.

On such a night, death seemed to lurk in every shadow.

Suddenly catching sight of twinkling lights about half a mile distant, Gideon urged his mount to quicken its pace. The mysterious lights were the first sign he’d had all night that something was afoot.

He’d been riding for hours now and had yet to see the winged beast. Earlier, he’d gone to the abandoned saltpeter cave near Devil’s Run Creek, but had determined that Draygan was nowhere in the vicinity.

Approaching the spot where he’d seen the twinkling lights, the only discernible illumination was that cast by the moon. Scanning the meadow, Gideon saw that the lights now beckoned from the other side of the meadow. As he gamely ventured forth, he couldn’t help but wonder if Draygan was toying with him.

When, a few moments later, he arrived at the new location, once again the twinkling lights seemed to emanate from a different direction. Vexed, Gideon was on the verge of kicking Blaze into a gallop—determined to outrun the lights—when he saw a crouched figure standing near a towering oak tree. The lone figure immediately put him in mind of Hecate, the ancient patroness of witchcraft. Legend had it that she appeared nightly at a crossroads to aid anguished mortals haunted by the spirits of the dead.

To Gideon’s surprise, rather than the fabled Hecate, the solitary figure turned out to be an old, white-haired woman. She was garbed in a faded dress and wore a shawl tied around her frail shoulders.

“Have you lost your way?” he inquired, reining Blaze to a halt beside the mighty oak tree.

“ ‘The night was dark, no father was there, the child was wet with dew. The mire was deep, and the child did weep, and away the vapor flew,’ ” the old woman intoned in a sing-songy voice.

“Ah! You are familiar with the poetry of William Blake,” he remarked as he dismounted.

Softly cackling, the crone peered up at him and said, “Such words are in your head, ain’t they?”

Admittedly perplexed by her cryptic reply, Gideon unbuttoned his jacket. “It is a chill night for you to be about without a proper coat,” he remarked, solicitously offering her the tunic.

With a shake of her head, the old woman refused the garment. “What need have I of such raiment? ’Tain’t the least bit cold.”

Although thinking otherwise, Gideon shrugged back into his jacket. “Have you perchance seen the great winged beast that inhabits these environs?”

“Ain’t seen Draygan tonight,” she responded. “Although I know where he be a-hiding.”

His interest instantly piqued, Gideon asked the obvious question. “And where might that be?”

“In your heart, boy… in your heart.” Cocking her head to one side, the old woman silently appraised him.

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