“Ye were born with the knowledge of the universe in ye.”
“I—I don’t have any knowledge,” she whispered, darting a worried look at her mother before locking her gaze back on her father. “If I did, I…wouldn’t I knowit?”
“Nay,” he said with a slight shake of his head. “It seems ye need to be made aware of yer gift first. Ye need to be taught the skills of a drùidh.”
“Drùidh!” Winter yelped, untangling herself from her parents and standing up, sending her chair skittering across the floor. She pointed at the still-silent priest. “Like him? Are you saying I’m like Daar!”
Both Grey and Grace immediately stood, but when Grey stepped toward her with his hand outstretched, Winter took a step back and gave a curt shake of her head. “No.” She took another step back. “I’m not a wizard. I can’t be a wizard! I would know if I was,” she cried, slapping her hand to her chest. “I would know!”
“Ye don’t know because the magic is dormant until ye’re made aware of it,” Daar interjected, stepping away from the hearth.
“Stay out of this, old man,” her papa growled.
“Nay,” Daar countered. “She needs to know the truth.” He looked at Winter. “Ye wouldn’t realize ye have the magic in ye, lass, unless ye knew to look for it. Ye’ve always carried the energy, but ye must look deep inside yourself to find it. It doesn’t just come to ye, ye have to go in search of it.”
“It was exactly the same for me, Winter,” Robbie said, stepping away from the closed door he’
d been leaning against. He smiled warmly at her. “I was twenty-six years old before my papa explained my calling to me.”
“But you were only eight when you saved Rose Dolan in the snowstorm when she was just a few months old,” Winter pointed out. “You were a guardian even then. You nearly died saving her.”
“Aye,” Robbie agreed. “But I was only acting from instinct to save an infant. I had no idea what I was doing.”
“But I don’t even have instinct!” Winter cried, backing away from everyone. “I have nothing!”
“Ye have it all, Winter,” her papa said softly. “It’s been right there in yer paintings since ye first started drawing with crayons. The spirits ye hide in yer work, do ye not find it strange that ye see their energy as plain as ye see the real animals, yet others do not?”
“But they’re only figments of my imagination,” she argued, looking from her papa to her mama, then to Robbie, her hands lifted beseechingly. “I drew them for whimsy.”
“They’re not your imagination, Winter,” Daar said. “They’re as real as the flesh-and-blood animals ye draw. Ye paint what ye see, and ye see the full spectrum of energy.”
“I don’t want to be a wizard,” she whispered, looking down at the floor, no longer able to face any of them. “I only want to paint.”
“Then that’s all ye have to do,” her papa said gently. “Ye have the right to deny yer calling.”
She looked up at her papa in surprise, her gaze then darting to her mother. Grace nodded.
Winter looked at Robbie, and he also nodded and smiled. “Aye,” Robbie said. “Ye have the choice of accepting or denying yer gift.”
“Did you have a choice?”
“Aye. I could have renounced my calling when I learned about it.”
“But you didn’t.”
“I chose to honor my destiny, Winter, because despite the enormous responsibility that comes with being a guardian, there’s also the satisfaction of protecting my loved ones.” He crossed his arms again and gazed deeply into her eyes. “But being a guardian and being a drùidhare not the same. My decision to follow my calling should not influence yours. You must walk yer own path, Winter.”
“I don’t want to turn out like Daar,” she whispered to no one in particular.
“I beg yer pardon,” Daar said, straightening his shoulders and smoothing down the front of his cassock. “I served my calling well for nearly two millennia, and I’m damn proud of that fact.”
Winter gave him an apologetic frown. “No offense, Father, but you bungle your spells more often than you succeed.”
He picked a piece of lint off his sleeve. “Only in this last century,” he muttered, looking up with a scowl. “Before that, I was a powerful force to be reckoned with.” He stepped closer, holding his hands cupped together in front of him. “Ye can have that same power, lass. All ye have to do is decide ye want it, and ye can hold the knowledge of the universe in yer hands.”
“To what end?” she asked. “So I can interfere in everyone’s lives? Uproot people from their natural time and send them hurtling into another century?” She suddenly gasped, shooting her gaze to her parents. “I’m going to live for centuries,” she whispered in horror. “I’m going to outlive everyone!”
“Aye, there is that,” Daar said with a sigh, drawing her attention. “But ye get used to it,” he added with a negligent shrug. “Ye learn to adjust, because ye know ye’re serving the greater good.”
“I’m going to turn into a cranky old goat just like you.”
He grinned broadly. “Aye, that is one benefit. I can be just as cranky as I want, and no one can do much about it.”
Winter stood frowning at Daar when another thought suddenly struck her. She looked at her papa. “What were you talking about earlier? Something about Cùram, and that I’m supposed to find him.” Winter felt the blood drain from her face as the realization set in. “I heard you saying you expect me to destroy Cùram. But Robbie told us he’s a powerful wizard. I can’t fight a wizard.”
“It’s up to you, Winter,” her papa said. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t feel up to.
And if you did choose to accept your gift, you wouldn’t be alone, baby girl. You’d have us guarding your back.”
Winter blinked at him, then slowly looked at everyone else. “No offense, people, but a bumbling old drùidh,a warrior, a rocket scientist, and a guardian are not exactly a match for this Cùram guy, if he truly is that powerful. And I can’t even light a candle without using three or four matches.”
Robbie chuckled. “We also have Mary,” he reminded her. “And Daar has made ye a staff of your own.”
Daar rushed to the hearth and took down a thin, smooth, five-foot-long stick from the mantel.
Winter decided her mama was right, it did look puny.
The old priest walked over and held it out to her. “It’s made from a branch of my white pine,”
he said, his voice laced with quiet reverence. “It’s weak yet, but it will grow strong as ye develop yer energy.”
Winter tucked her hands behind her back. “I don’t want it,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t want your magic.”
Daar gave her a fierce scowl that should have fried her on the spot, then turned his scowl on her papa. “Make her take it, MacKeage. Tell her what happens if she doesn’t.”
Winter looked at her papa in alarm. “What happens? What’s the big secret you’ve all been keeping for the last two weeks?”
Her papa looked at the stick the old priest was still holding toward her and shook his head, his gaze locked on Daar. “It’s not really free will then, is it old man, if I tell her the fate of mankind rests on her shoulders,” Grey said, his voice sounding so defeated that Winter’s insides knotted in fear.
“The fate of mankind?” she whispered, looking at her mother. “Mama, tell me what he’s talking about.”
Grace walked up and put her arms around Winter, giving her a fierce hug. “Daar’s pine tree is dying,” she said into Winter’s hair. “And its death is going to cause a chain reaction that will eventually kill all the trees of life. And when they die, the world dies with them.”
Winter pulled back only enough to look into her mother’s deeply troubled eyes. “Just because someone cut off the top of the pine?” she asked. “Killing just one of the trees of life will make the others die?” She looked past her mama’s shoulder to Robbie and frowned. “But that doesn’t make sense.