“I’m sorry it has to be this way.” Nathan rose. “I pray that tonight goes well so that you might live long enough to hate me well into your old age.”

Druid tradition was passed down orally, through rote memorization. To protect its secrets, rituals were never put to paper. As Nathan had elected to forgo his son’s rightful education, Nathan would be the last Druid in their family. So be it. If he freed his son from the family curse, he could live with the rest.

He retreated to the barn for the final touches. Using a long pole, Nathan positioned the wicker head on the center of the uppermost cage. He hung the branch arms from the wooden pegs. The structure now roughly resembled a human.

The wicker man, complete with a belly full of sacrifices for the gods. Such offerings successfully kept the Romans out of Scotland. Surely, it would be sufficient to keep a single disease at bay in one family.

He stiffened at the sound of an engine. His assistant’s car approached on the long driveway. It came to a stop fifteen or twenty yards from the barn. His assistant got out of the car and walked toward him.

Alone.

He turned away from his masterpiece. “Where is Mandy?”

“She wasn’t at the inn.”

Nathan’s insides heated. “What do you mean she wasn’t there?”

His assistant’s hands clenched together. Unclenched. Clenched again. “I assume she’s at the hospital or looking for her brother. Her mother had a heart attack. Guess she couldn’t deal with her son going missing.”

This could not be. He had it all planned. How could he be reborn without the maiden, his May Queen?

“I need my May Queen!”

“Why can’t I take her place?”

Anger boiled in his belly and swirled red in his vision.

His assistant’s eyes bugged. “I didn’t mean permanently, but I could stand in, just for the ceremony.”

“This isn’t a Broadway production.” His right hand found the knife at his left hip. He swept it clear of the sheath and across his assistant’s throat in one smooth movement. Blood fountained from the wound and splattered across Nathan’s pants, Jackson Pollock style. He walked away before the body hit the dirt.

Nathan’s heart splintered. All he’d worked for. Gone because his assistant had failed.

No. He could still save his son. It was Nathan’s salvation that was in jeopardy. As always, Evan came first. As long as his son lived on, without fear of the disease that ravaged Nathan’s brain, he was prepared to die. Willingly and without regret.

He looked up and saw a miracle.

A woman running across the meadow toward him. Even in the dark, he recognized her shape, her gait. The gods were with him. They’d sent her to him as a reward for his loyalty.

It was time.