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  Without warning the window rattled in the frame. Raegan jumped. ‘You’re sure we’re safe here?’

  ‘Quite safe. The birds will warn me if anyone approaches the island.’

  Something like scepticism crossed Raegan’s face. ‘The birds will warn you?’

  Con did not even blink. ‘So they will.’

  She giggled once. Then again. And then she could not stop; from nowhere, she was doubled over with laughter at the ridiculousness of it all. Her grandfather was a shape shifter! Her pendant and her dreams were connected, and the birds would let them know what was happening outside!

  Unmoveable as a stone, his elbows on his knees and chin resting on his fingertips, Con regarded his granddaughter. ‘This no doubt seems odd. Mad, even. But it is true, Raegan, all of it. Everything you have heard and everything you will hear is true. About me, about what you encountered tonight, and about yourself.’

  ‘About me?’

  ‘You have a part in this, Raegan. The biggest part of all, in fact. That’s why he came after you tonight.’

  Her laughter died in her throat. ‘There’s something wrong with me, isn’t there?’

  Con’s answering bark echoed around the quiet room.

  ‘Wrong with you! You stupid girl!’ The agitation propelled him to his feet and he began to pace; when he turned back to her, his eyes were shining with blue fire.

  ‘You’re gifted, Raegan. Uniquely blessed, in fact, but with a type of gift shared by only a very special few. It runs in families, but tends to show up sporadically; perhaps every five, ten, fifteen, generations – who knows.’

  ‘No. This… you’ve got it wrong.’ Raegan licked her dry lips. ‘I’m not good at anything. I don’t- I’m not talented -‘

  ‘Your talent has never been tested,’ Con retorted. ‘And anyway, it doesn’t truly show itself until your sixteenth birthday - though a few weeks before that you begin to have the dreams.’

  This struck a chord. ‘Then what happens?’

  ‘It works differently for everyone, as far as I know. But tell me – tonight, when you were distressed, or worked up, how did it feel?’

  She didn’t want to say it out loud. He would think she was insane. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘How was your vision?’

  There were tears in her eyes. ‘You won’t understand. Anyway, I don’t think this has anything to do with what you… with what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Try me.’

  Raegan opened her mouth to protest, but shut it again almost immediately. She was so tired of pretending.

  ‘All through today, it’s been like when I’m upset, or scared, or whatever, things around me…change. The scenery. It’s as if... it’s almost like it reflects my mood.’

  There was a gleam in Con’s eyes as he looked down at her. The excitement was palpable in his voice. ‘Not your mood, Raegan. Your heartbeat. The world jumps around you because your heart does.’

  What Raegan was expecting him to say, she didn’t know – but it wasn’t that. But the need to understand was greater than the sudden, powerful urge to bolt. She stayed put.

  Con took this as a signal to continue.

  ‘It was always a possibility that this would happen; like I said, the gift is a birthright, passed down through generations of my family. Your da and I weren’t so lucky; though Joe didn’t quite see it that way – he thought it was a blessing in disguise. Your parents worked hard to conceal the existence of the gift from you. They hoped to spare you the potential dangers of being one of the few.

  ‘But tonight proves that the essential spark within you cannot be denied.’

  Usually a taciturn man, it was clear that this was a subject on which Con could talk for hours.

  ‘It’s chosen you, Raegan. It’s part of who you are and always will be. Those like the being that found you tonight will always seek you out because of it; because they can see something so precious and vibrant in you.’

  It might be stark, bald, frightening – but he could not protect her any longer. Honesty was all that was left.

  A clock ticked distantly from downstairs. Her reply, when at last it came, was almost as faint.

  ‘I don’t know why but... I think I believe you. I do. Believe.’

  As she spoke she realised she did. It was like a secret she had kept without realising. Truth blossomed before her. She could feel it in her bones, in the same way that she knew the scent of earth and the feeling of rain.

  It was as if she had been waiting her whole life to have this conversation.

  The quiet had transformed from deafening into comfortable, broken only by the gentle patter of a late shower outside. Noticing that Raegan was shivering slightly, Con moved to close the window. He took a seat in the armchair closest to his granddaughter, giving an audible sound of relief as he took the weight off his aching limbs.

  There were so many questions. She opted for the biggest. ‘But what is it that they see in me? The gift, you call it – what is it, exactly?’

  ‘Aye, well, there’s the rub.’ Con ran a huge hand over his face. The emerging bristles on his chin made a scraping sound. ‘Exactitude doesn’t come into it, I’m afraid. I can only give you the basics. But I think the basics will be more than enough for now.

  ‘Baldly speaking, you are descended from a being – a human – who was quite remarkable. A courageous, selfless hero. In recognition of this, he was elevated: blessed with a sacred duty and the preternatural talents necessary to complete his task.

  ‘He was the first guardian of time.

  ‘These are the gifts that have passed down, through his bloodline, to you. Tonight you were not witnessing random alterations in scenery but alterations in time. Your heart now beats as his did; like the ticking of a clock, inextricably linked to time itself. Master your heartbeat and you will master time. It may sound unfathomable, even frightening, to you now. But you will learn.’

  ‘The hourglasses,’ Raegan breathed. It was too much; she couldn’t take it in, all this talk of guardians and heartbeats and time, but the image of the hourglass lingered. Her words came thick and fast. ‘Was that why I kept dreaming of them? Of hourglasses? And my pendant, it-‘

  Con cut her off midflow, holding up his hands as if to stem the tide. ‘One thing at a time, child. The hourglasses, I believe, tend to pop up more and more frequently in a Regent’s dreams just before his or her 16th birthday; a sign that your true nature is beginning to emerge.’

  ‘A Regent?’

  ‘Regent is the title given to the guardians of time. However-‘ Con held up a warning finger. ‘you are only masters of time by proxy. The gift has been awarded to you by the higher powers. You are in service of them, their chosen representatives on Earth. Their Regents.’

  She began to ask a question before he even finished speaking, but he stopped her, gently.

  ‘Don’t ask me to elaborate on the higher powers, Raegan.’ The shrewd eyes were not unkind. ‘I expect every single person who has recently lost someone precious to them would ask about that first. I cannot tell you where your mother’s soul is now, or what role the powers that be had in her departure from this world.’

  The childlike, irrational hope that leaped in Raegan’s chest for a moment disappeared.

  ‘I wish I could tell you more, but I simply don’t know. You have to remember that I was not chosen.’

  It seemed to hit her all at once, like the life she had and thought she would have was flashing before her eyes, now replaced with the dark and scary notion of destiny. She wiped her eyes. ‘But if you weren’t a Regent, and Dad wasn’t, how did you know it was in our family?’

  ‘My father passed on what he knew; what he had gleaned from his own father. The Sentinel filled in the blanks – they found me when Bridey was pregnant.’ At Raegan’s perplexed look, he hastened to elaborate. ‘The Sentinel are the governing body of the Regents. The officials. It will be up to them to reveal more, as and when they wish to.’


  ‘As and when.’ Raegan looked into Con’s eyes. Suddenly, with terrible certainty, she knew. ‘I’m leaving you, aren’t I?’

  ‘You aren’t safe here anymore, Raegan. You need to be with those who can teach you to use your powers and protect you properly.’

  ‘No.’ Raegan sprang to her feet. ‘My mother wanted me to be here with you. She knew about this, this, bloody abnormality I apparently have, and she wanted me to live here with you and Grandma.’

  Con was advancing on her, and she had an awful premonition of being within the iron grasp of his talons, once more, speeding towards the fate that had been piled on top of her. She wasn’t ready, but that didn’t seem to matter; she knew he would remove her by force if he had to.

  ‘What about Dad,’ she gasped. Nothing was off limits now. ‘He didn’t agree, that’s what you said. He wanted you to protect me; he wanted you to keep me away from all of this. He trusted you!’

  All at once the fight went out of Con. It was an unbelievable sight to see his huge bulk collapse in on itself, like air out of a balloon. The wall took the full weight of his slumping form.

  When he lifted his face to meet hers it was wet with tears.

  ‘What you must think of me,’ he mumbled. ‘All those lost years when I could have been with you. And now this. It was all my pride. My stubborn, foolish pride. My fault.’

  Aghast, she moved to him. ‘It wasn’t your fault. I’m sorry, Grandda, I didn’t mean it. I just don’t want to go.’ For the first time, Raegan looked at Con and felt that they contemplated each other with true understanding. ‘I’m scared.’

  ‘I am too, lass.’

  Raegan was agog. ‘You? You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met!’

  ‘Oh, get on with you! If you only knew... truth be told, I’ve been afraid since the day you were born. I kept hoping Joe would change his mind; he kept hoping I would change mine. We had the most terrible argument and parted ways.’ Con’s breath caught in his throat. He shut his eyes briefly. ‘And then it was too late.’

  ‘I was blind, perhaps. For now the day is here and I don’t want you to go.’ Roughly, he pressed his palm against her cheek. ‘I tried hard not to care about you, Raegan; I was as horrible to you when you got here as I could bring myself to be. Bridey told me I was being an arse and I knew it was true.

  ‘But how I love you, child. I always have.’

  Raegan let out something that was both a laugh and a sob, and tears dropped onto his hand as she leaned against it. They stood together for a long minute; Raegan could feel his strength and warmth, and felt as safe as if she was sheltered under an ancient tree, anchored by its massive web of roots.

  But she knew now that this could not last.

  ‘I can’t make out that I’m ready,’ Raegan did her best to smile. ‘But I understand. And I’ll go wherever you tell me to.’

  ‘We can go in the morning,’ Con said quietly. ‘You deserve a good sleep.’

  ‘But you’d rather go now. It’s ok. Honestly.’ She held her hands out in front of her. They were steady. ‘See? I can do this.’

  Con took her hands in his. ‘So be it.’

  Gently he drew her towards the window. For a moment, she was distracted with butterflies in her gut, filling her with the nervous sense that she would never look out on this view again. She drank in the beauty of the island at night; the birds fluttering against the milky crescent moon, the clearness of the air, and the twinkling lights in the distance.

  Con did not move.

  ‘Aren’t you-‘ Raegan flapped her hands about clumsily. The bemused look on his face halted her. ‘Do you need me to go somewhere while you change?’

  The wonderful, rarely seen smile split his face. ‘Oh! You thought that I- oh, you poor wee thing. Don’t worry, I won’t be flying any more tonight.’

  ‘Oh.’ Raegan felt a bit stupid. ‘So how are we getting there, then?’

  Smiling broadly, Con pointed out into the night. Raegan followed the line of his arm to the twinkling horizon she had admired. She now noticed that these lights were getting closer; matched by the rapid, buzzing crescendo of whirring blades. She looked on in wonder as a flash of khaki camouflage print gleamed out of the darkness when the helicopters flew across the moon.

  Chapter Seven: The Unit

  On this cool spring night, the sleepy town of St Jude’s was experiencing some out of the ordinary occurrences. Fortunately - though the village gossips would have not seen it this way, perhaps - none of the residents were aware of the scuffle between a young girl and a unusually agile man on Briar Walk earlier in the evening, and were by now largely happily asleep, either on their sofas or in bed, and thus undisturbed by the helicopters flying overhead.

  For though three helicopters had indeed headed straight for Ramsey Island, a fourth diverged from the others, speeding into the depths of Lydgale Forest.

  Crewed by only two people, a man and a woman, it made a smooth landing in a suitably large clearing. The pilots dismounted quickly. They had done this before. Separating without a word, they walked in separate directions and melted into the night.

  Soon, they returned, this time together; and the success of their trip was contained in the large bundle that they toted between them. Movements were economic, precise; clearly there was no time to be wasted. Hunks of wood surely too heavy for one person to carry were lofted onto the woman’s shoulder with ease. She carried these well away from the helicopter, crossing the great length of the clearing with impressive speed. The man busied himself at the far end, digging a sizeable hole.

  Depositing the logs by the edge, she addressed her companion for the first time.

  ‘We should probably radio in. That took longer than I expected.’

  He didn’t respond.

  ‘Warwick? Warwick. Warwick!’ Annoyed to be kept waiting, she kicked some dirt into the hole.

  Warwick stiffened, the soil sliding off his helmet. ‘What the hell are you doing?

  She thrust the device into his face. ‘We’re late. Radio in.’

  ‘Jesus, Bree. Why they had to stick me with you tonight, I ain’t never going to understand.’

  ‘Probably because your sister was careless enough to knacker her leg on manoeuvres,’ Bree replied sweetly, her hands on her hips. ‘I’m only doing this as a favour to her.’

  ‘Well if you’re so damned helpful, why don’t you check in?’

  ‘But this is your mission. You wouldn’t want them to think you were shirking your responsibilities now, would you?’

  Warwick snorted, the derision clear in his Tennessee twang. ‘Yeah. Because you’re all about decorum, aren’t you? Give me a break.’

  ‘Just do it.’ Rolling her eyes, she stalked away. Despite her annoying, hoity toity English drawl hanging in the air, Warwick couldn’t help but admire the sway of her hips. The commander’s voice on the other end soon brought him to his senses. He listened intently.

  When Bree returned, dragging the bundle behind her out of laziness rather than tiredness, the wood was assembled neatly. Warwick waited for her to draw near. He was grinning smugly from earring to earring.

  ‘What do you look so pleased about?’ She hefted the bundle into the middle of the pile, wiping her sweaty palms on her trousers.

  ‘You owe me five bucks,’ he drawled, cracking his knuckles in satisfaction.

  Bree winced. ‘Care to elaborate?’

  ‘They got her.’ Bringing up his boot, Warwick struck a match on the edge and lit a cigarette. Then he tossed the match onto the pile. With a whoosh, the entire structure went up in flames in the blink of an eye.

  Bree leaped back. ‘Hell! You might have warned me that you’d already doused the thing.’

  ‘It’s good to keep you on your toes.’

  ‘Whatever.’ They watched the smoke rising for a moment. ‘So what do you mean, they got her?’

  ‘Old man finally gave her up. She actually fell into a traverse tonight. Incomplete, of course. Remember those?’
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br />   ‘Barely.’

  ‘Oh, right. Because you’re such a fast learner.’

  ‘Correct… still. Once was enough.’ Bree shuddered.

  ‘Tell me about it.’

  ‘No control. Not the faintest idea that it’s your power making the world spin. Pitiful, really.’

  ‘Yeah, well, maybe she agrees with you. She’s coming willingly. Max confirmed it a few minutes ago.’ Warwick picked up the empty petrol can and packed it neatly in his black canvas bag. Taking off his leather gloves, he wiped his forehead. Beads of sweat were already forming from the fierce heat of the blaze.

  ‘Damn.’ Bree let out a low whistle. ‘Good for her. Shame we couldn’t have left this one, then. Would have been a good first kill.’

  They both turned to look at the flaming bundle in the middle of the firewood. The surrounding canvas had begun to burn away, and some golden hairs, clinging to a pale, moon-like forehead were barely visible.

  Warwick’s reply was quiet.

  ‘There will be others.’

  ***

  Raegan had never been in a helicopter before. Her experience was limited to what she had seen on TV. But those helicopter rides had not begun like this. Those passengers were not ushered aboard in the middle of the night from some secret spot hidden by high trees. Their hosts were not commandoes wearing night-vision goggles who abseiled out of the chopper on cords before it even landed.

  Those helicopters had also not been part of an armed convoy. From her position by the window, she could see two other helicopters closely flanking their own.

  If Raegan hadn’t felt intimidated by the small glimpse Con had given her into her new life, she definitely did now. She almost felt as if she was in one of those prank TV shows and that any moment someone was going to leap out and shout ‘Surprise! It was all a joke!’ Either that or it would be down to her to grab someone and force them to realise that they’d got the wrong girl.

  Con, sitting opposite her, looked uncomfortable in his harness. No surprise really, she thought; being strapped into a metal contraption would be rubbish when you could be soaring through the skies on your own wings. Wings. Big, feathery ones. She shook her head. The fact that her grandfather was an RSPB warden half the time and a giant eagle the other half was not going to sink in easily. That said, she thought, a tiny smile curling at her lips, when she remembered the hours he spent consulting his surveys and studying the birds, it did make an unreal kind of sense.