Bottomless,” he told the dog as he started fol owing the

stream from where it spil ed out of the pool.

Inglenook was on the opposite shore of Bottomless, but

Peg’s gravel pit was only about two miles up the fiord. “It’s

at least a mile across if we mosey down the shore in that

direction,” he told his faithful traveling companion—the one

that hadn’t abandoned him and had whined encouragement

the entire time he’d crawled out of that hole. “But we’d have

to swim across whale-infested waters to get there.”

Or maybe he could signal whoever was on Peg’s hil side

clearing the top off the new pit. It sure beat the hel out of

walking the entire way around the fiord. His decision made,

Duncan started hiking diagonal y toward where he’d come

ashore five goddamned nights ago, only to have to stop

and cut himself a walking stick when his right knee kept

threatening to give out.

Oh yeah, he must have real y pissed off the magic at

some time; probably when he’d been a ful -of-himself

teenager more interested in nailing every ski bunny that

came to the resort instead of buckling down to learn the

business he was due to take over with the other first-

generation MacKeage males. He final y reached the place

where he’d come ashore and stood staring across the

waterway at the opposite side and snorted. He wouldn’t be

taking over anything anytime soon, since Laird Greylen,

Grey’s brother, Morgan—who was Alec and Ian’s father—

and his own father, Cal um, showed no signs of slowing

down even though Cal um was in his eighties, Grey in his

midseventies, and Morgan was turning sixty-nine later this

year.

But then, the MacKeage men were charmed, apparently,

according to their new resident wizard’s bride, Miss Talks-

a-lot. He couldn’t believe the woman had actual y told Peg

he was old-fashioned.

Christ, he just wanted to fal into a soft bed and stay there

until his body quit screaming. And then he was firing his

entire crew for not coming to look for—

The pup started barking excitedly, snapping Duncan out

of his black mood at the thought it had spotted something.

He started down to what was left of the beach only to have

his knee final y explode in pain, the rest of his descent

made in a tumbling rol that final y ended when he slammed

into an unmovable metal object.

A boat. His goddamned boat! It was sitting high and dry

on a gravel bar the low tide had exposed, and when he

stretched to look over the gunwale he saw his backpack

and sword sitting on the floor right where he’d left them. He

leaned back with a groaned sigh and didn’t even try to stop

the pup from licking his face. What were the chances of his

boat drifting back to the exact same spot? He snorted.

More likely it had been pushed here by a diabolical whale

with a warped sense of humor.

“We’re okay now,” he murmured, final y nudging the pup

away. “I’l have ye back in civilization in an hour. I’m buying

you a fifty-pound bag of dog food and then I’m taking you to

meet a tribe of little heathens you’re instantly going to fal in

love with.” He grabbed the dog’s snout to look him in the

eye. “Ye can have the children, but I don’t want ye making

puppy-dog eyes at the lady, understand? If she’s going to

be fawning over anyone, it’s going to be me. And she owes

me an apple crisp today, so ye don’t get under her fee—”

The sound of a racing engine pushing water made

Duncan stretch to look over the top of his boat, and he

spotted another smal boat heading up the center of the

fiord. It suddenly turned toward him, and he recognized

Alec at the til er.

“Ye have my permission to bite the bastard if ye want,” he

told the pup as he leaned back with another groaned sigh.

“Or if that’s a little too intimidating for you, ye might at least

lift a leg and whiz on his boots.”

The engine slowed to an idle, then shut off, and Duncan

grabbed the pup when it tried to run off just as the boat

scraped to a stop on the gravel bar a few yards away.

“You intend to spend the morning sitting here

contemplating life, Boss?” Alec said, stepping onto the

gravel bar. “You’re late to work.”

“I’m late?” Duncan growled. “I’ve been gone five

goddamned days and you’re just now coming to look for

me?”

Alec halted in midstep, his expression going from

confusion to shock. “What in hel happened to you? Ye look

like ye tangled with a bear and lost.”

“I fel . So where in hel have you been for the last five

days?”

Alec went back to looking confused. “Five? I’ve been with

you up until yesterday morning, when I helped ye saddle the

horses for your picnic with Peg.” He finished walking over

and squatted down, then gave the pup a pat. “Who’s your

friend?”

It was Duncan’s turn to be confused. “I found him when I

landed here five days ago. So how could you have been

with me yesterday morning when I was lying twenty feet

down in a hole in the middle of my goddamned mountain?”

Alec shook his head and sat down to lean against the

boat beside him. “It’s Monday morning, Duncan.” He

suddenly straightened away to look at him. “You believe

you’ve been here—for Christ’s sakes, ye have a beard.” He

scrambled to his feet and stepped away before turning to

look up at the mountain, and then slowly lowered his gaze

to Duncan. “You did it; you traveled through time just like

Robbie did when he took old Uncle Ian home to the

eleventh century. You just spent five days on your mountain,

but were only gone overnight in this time.”

“Robbie said the magic was turned off here,” Duncan

whispered, hugging the pup as he tried to decide if the

notion thril ed him or fil ed him with terror. “And I couldn’t

find anything that might be considered an instrument of my

power, so I couldn’t have turned the magic back on.”

“Ye must have found something,” Alec said just as softly.

“Because no one grows that kind of beard overnight, and I

swear this is Monday morning.”

Duncan snorted. “I found a twenty-foot-deep hole inside

the mountain.” He looked up at Alec and grinned. “And a

pool that has brook trout the size of salmon.” He lifted the

pup. “And this guy. Or rather, he found me within two

minutes of my coming ashore. I think he’s been stranded

here since the earthquake created the fiord.”

“Can ye walk?”

Duncan shook his head. “My last fal just blew out my

knee. And if my ribs didn’t get cracked when I fel down the

hole, they sure as hel feel like they are now.”

Alec folded his arms over his chest and grinned down at

him. “When did you become a walking disaster? Or should I

say a falling disaster?”

Duncan rested his chin on his dog. “It started about half

an hour after I landed in Spel bound Fal s, right about the

time I was attacked by the Thompson tribe.” He snorted.

“And it’s been al downhil from there.” He lifted narrowed

eyes to his nephew. “It’s Mac; I think he’s out to get me.”

“But why? He wouldn’t hand you the contract of a lifetime

and then beat ye to a bloody pulp. He needs you to build his

road and prep the resort site.”

“Personal y, I think marriage has addled the bastard’s

brain,” Duncan muttered. “From what Trace Huntsman told

me at the wedding, Mac not only was a confirmed bachelor,

but a skirt-chaser in just about every century in recorded