Alasdair felt himself tumbling away from Morgan and the stones. He panicked as he fell, but could do naught to stop himself.
Until he rolled into a tree and came to a jarring stop.
He felt the sun upon his shoulders and opened his eyes warily, for he knew ’twas still night.
Yet ’twas not night where he lay—’twas a broad sunny morning. He must have fallen asleep in Morgan’s embrace—and somehow tumbled down the grassy bank beside the standing stones. Alasdair was alone, the standing stones a goodly distance away.
He was on his feet to go awaken Morgan before he realized the Micra was gone.
Had she left him?
Alasdair spun, seeking some sign of the blue chariot, only to realize that no black ribbon of road wound its way across the countryside. There was no pool of black beside the standi
