“In good time, Marky. Right now it’s tea time. You digest what I’ve just told you, and I’ll be back in a flash.”
Uncle Edmund exited the room, leaving the two of us alone and in utter shock.
Chapter Twenty-Six
As soon as Uncle Edmund left the room, my cell phone rang. After a whole repetition of the tune I’d downloaded for its ringer, Marcus lifted his head off the back of the chair and said from across the room, “Aren’t you going to answer that?”
I came out of my trance and pulled the ringing, vibrating phone from the back pocket of my jeans and looked at the display. “Damn,” I said when I saw who it was.
“Hi, Luke.”
“Hey, Country Girl. How’s it going?”
Oh geez, he was using Evan’s line in reverse. “Um, I really can’t talk right now, Luke.”
I hated to give Luke the brush-off, but with everything I’d just learned from Uncle Edmund, I couldn’t deal with normal life.
“What’s up? Its lunch time there, isn’t it?”
I’d completely lost track of time and the fact that it was a school day.
“Yeah, it is.”
I glanced across the room at Marcus, who stared at the floor, fidgeting with a corner of his shirt tail, looking as if he was in a daze.
“Um, I’m at basketball tryouts.” I cringed at the lie.
“Oh. Call me later then, okay?”
“Yeah, sure.”
He hesitated. “I have something to tell you. Well, I’ll talk to you later. I miss you.”
I blinked back tears. “Yeah, me too. Hey, tell Courtney I said hi, okay? See ya.”
“Who’s Luke?”
Marcus’ voice was closer then I’d expected it to be. I jumped in my seat and dropped the phone onto the floor. Marcus bent over, picked it up, and handed it to me.
“Um, Luke’s an old friend, Courtney’s boyfriend.”
I hadn’t liked lying to Luke, but I hated lying to Marcus. A huge pang of guilt nestled in among the other emotions I was feeling.
Marcus sat beside me on the edge of the sofa.
“Do you believe any of this?” I asked, intentionally changing the subject.
“If I hadn’t witnessed your miracle the other night, then I probably wouldn’t. But the fact is, those scratches healed themselves right in front of my eyes. Or something healed them. So why not believe it?” He sounded defeated.
I nodded.
“And what about the pictures?”
“Well, if it is true, I was meant to move to Deadwich. This was all meant to happen. Maggie probably expected me.”
“I wonder how old she really is,” Marcus said.
Just then, Uncle Edmund entered the room carrying a tray. On the tray sat a China tea set and an assortment of sandwiches, cut into triangles with their crusts cut off.
“Morwenna is her Welsh name. She arrived in Massachusetts on the Mayflower in 1620.”
“1620?!” Marcus blurted.
“Yes. However, she is older yet. Christian and Claire were first born in Wales about a thousand years ago.”
My eyes bulged at the time frame.
“Then, Christian’s name was Kalan and Claire’s was Bryn.
“What would you like in your tea dear?”
Although Uncle Edmund meant well, the interruption was annoying. I didn’t even drink tea, but took it with a drop of milk and one sugar cube. It wasn’t that bad. He insisted we eat the sandwiches he’d made while he continued.
“Where was I?” He laid a finger on the side of his chin in thought.
With a mouthful of pastrami and Swiss, I blurted, “Wales! A thousand years ago!”
“Right you are. Kalan and Bryn came from two very different families. Kalan was born of the most powerful family of witches in all of Britannia.”
I stopped chewing and looked at Marcus sitting next to me, seeing him in a new light. He stared, expressionless, into his cup.
“Bryn … .”
Uncle Edmund paused and looked at me above his glasses. I swallowed my last mouthful of sandwich and held my breath, staring intently at Marcus’ uncle.
“Well, Bryn’s family was also powerful in magic for their kind.”
“Their kind?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.
“Yes. You see, Bryn was a fairy.” He sat quietly, staring at me.
A sharp laugh burst out of me. I cupped my hand over my mouth in case there was any food left inside. “Yeah, right.” I rolled my eyes to the ceiling then back to Uncle Edmund. I’d never seen a more serious look on anyone’s face. I shook my head in total disbelief.
“Uncle Edmund, you can’t be serious,” Marcus said leaning forward. “You don’t expect us to believe in fairies too, do you?”
“I assure you, Marky, it is very true. From what Christian had told me, fairies had grown out of their wings ages before and blended effortlessly among humans for centuries, but their power had never diminished.
“Bryn and Kalan happened upon each other one day on the outskirts of their realms, on human territory, and fell in love.”
His use of the word “human” made me realize that if everything he was saying was true, I might not be human. I couldn’t comprehend that.
“It was in this secret spot, by the stream under the great willow, that they rendezvoused for many years, until one day, their families found out. Like the Capulets and the Montagues, fairies and witches were sworn enemies. Neither family would allow a blending of realms.
“At first, they were warned to stay away from each other. They tried, but couldn’t. Both Bryn and Kalan were free spirits who couldn’t be reined in. Their infinite love drew them together, no matter the risk.
“Unbeknownst to either realm, the rulers of the fairies and the rulers of the witches employed the aid of the same nomadic witch to follow the lovers—Morwenna was her name.”
“Maggie,” I whispered. A chill feathered across my shoulders.
“Yes. Morwenna was and still is a powerful witch. Some even believed she was a demon. Morwenna confirmed to the rulers of both realms that the lovers were secretly meeting. Their families had them heavily guarded after that.
“Kalan and Bryn were devastated. Unable to escape the guard, they had no way of being together. Kalan used his time away from Bryn wisely and devised his own invisibility spell. Months later, with the aid of his spell, Kalan was able to sneak out of his realm and into Bryn’s, which he’d found on an island hidden in an ancient forest of yews. With him, he carried his family’s amulet of protection and immortality—your double spiral.”
I nodded.
“As Bryn slept, Kalan placed the amulet around her neck, but before he was able to slip out unnoticed, his invisibility spell wore off, exposing him to Bryn’s guard. There was no escape. The guardians of the fairy realm caught him easily.
“Bryn awakened as Kalan was being torn from her bedside. She flung herself at him, but the guard held her until they had taken Kalan away. Kalan fought back, but his magic was weak in the fairy realm. As the guard dragged him away, he yelled out to Bryn, promising her that they would be together again one day. If not in that lifetime, then in another.
“The next day, Kalan was executed within the fairy realm by Morwenna. As her punishment, Bryn was made to watch. Morwenna executed Kalan in the only way a witch could be killed—by fire. With his dying breath, Kalan cried out to Bryn to never take the amulet off. Morwenna couldn’t touch her as long as she wore it.”
A metallic taste overpowered the pastrami and cheese in my mouth. Without realizing it, I had bitten the inside of my lip, making it bleed. Marcus sat motionless, as if envisioning the whole story, as I was.
“What happened to Bryn?” I asked in a whisper, as if I was talking about someone else and not myself.
“Once Kalan’s remains had cooled, Bryn gathered them and buried them under the willow, in their secret spot by the river. After a period of grieving, Bryn sought out Morwenna and begged the witch to kill her,
too. Fairies were physically unable to cause themselves harm, let alone end their own lives.
“Morwenna was happy to oblige Bryn’s request, on the condition that Bryn freely give Morwenna the amulet. None, not even someone as powerful as Morwenna, could take it by force.
“Bryn took it from around her neck and placed it in Morwenna’s hand. Morwenna was about to thrust her dagger into Bryn’s heart, when Bryn asked for one more favor. She asked Morwenna to end her life as she had ended Kalan’s and to bury her ashes under the willow with his.
“Morwenna honored Bryn’s wish. Together they traveled to the willow by the river, where Bryn died the agonizing death she’d asked for. Morwenna kept her other promise as well and buried Bryn’s ashes with Kalan’s.”
“That’s the saddest thing I ever heard.” My voice was a whisper.
As I wiped away a few stubborn tears, I felt Marcus’s hand slip into mine.
“Neither, not Morwenna nor Bryn, knew that Kalan’s last promise to Bryn was a promise he knew would come true. Nine hundred years later, Kalan and Bryn were reborn, here in Massachusetts, as Christian Knight and Claire Day.”
The story had unfolded to me in a vision as Uncle Edmund had narrated the tragic tale. The deep love Bryn and Kalan once had for each another was the same love Marcus and I shared now, even though we’d just met two weeks ago. He was part of my soul, and I wouldn’t be me without him.
Mechanically, I took a sip of cold tea and placed the cup and saucer on the table. Then I gripped the pendant with renewed love.
“Kalan knew they’d be together again,” I said softly.
“Yes, he knew,” Uncle Edmund said.
Marcus let go of my hand and sat forward as if he were just coming out of a trance. “How do you remember the story, word for word?” He still sounded skeptical.
“I wrote it all down as Christian told it to me. He suspected it would happen again. And it has. Here you both are.”
“Wow,” I said and dropped my head into my hands.
“Wow is right,” Marcus agreed.
Uncle Edmund cleared the tray away, giving Marcus and me some privacy.
“Do you believe now?” I asked him, turning my head toward him.
He grimaced. “I guess so.”
I sat up and began to rummage through the picture box, pulling pictures out at random. There were several of Claire, some with Jason. I suppressed a shudder when I came across another one of Christian and Julia, who I now knew was Megan. Twelve-year-old Edmund was also in this picture. Julia was holding his hand.
I discovered without surprise that Sammy and Robyn were the other two members of the coven. Sammy’s name was Emma and Robyn’s was Sally.
By the time I’d decided I couldn’t take any more, I had pictures scattered across the coffee table and some on the floor.
While I was in my frenzy of searching through my past, I hadn’t even noticed Marcus in the room, until he got up and walked across the room in silence. I looked down at the collage of pictures I’d unintentionally created, and stood.
I walked to where Marcus had stopped in front of a collection of foreign language books and touched his arm. He sighed heavily, turned and held his arms out to me. My body shook against his with silent sobs.
After a few minutes, I whispered, “I’m sorry. I never cry in front of anyone, and now, that’s all I seem to be doing.” I sucked in a shaky breath and lifted my head from his shoulder. “Will you say something?”
“I’m so sorry,” he said in a broken voice.
“About what?”
“I let you die. Not once, but twice.”
“You died too.”
“Well, we’re not going to die this time. I think the key is to stay together. Not let her separate us. That’s what she wants, right? To keep us apart.”
He pulled his head back and looked into my moist eyes. The look of anguish on his face made my heart ache ten times worse.
“And never take the amulet off.”
The instant in which he’d called my pendant an amulet, was the instant it all felt real to me. As if it was possible, I felt even more afraid of the future than I had moments ago.
“We have to kill her, you know,” I said softly. “But how?”
“The only way you can kill a witch. Burn her.” The anger in his voice flashed in his eyes.
“Yeah, well, good luck with that.”
“We’ll figure out a way. We have to this time.” He sounded desperate and pulled me closer, one hand gripping the back of my head.
“I think you’re right about burning her, though. In my last nightmare, when I was cornered by the witches—or our friends and family, however you want to look at it, I was surrounded by a circle of fire. The witches had vanished and left me behind, and it was as if I couldn’t pass over the flames. But I’m not a witch. I’m a sprite, a pixie, a stupid bug with butterfly wings.”
Marcus chuckled. “Sorry, Brooke, but I couldn’t help laugh at that one.”
With a tender touch to the side of my face, he managed to spread cool tingles down my cheek and over my neck.
“You know that’s just the way fairies have been portrayed in children’s stories. Look at you. Do you look like any of the things you’ve just described?”
I pursed my lips. “Whatever.”
Uncle Edmund returned. I wiped my face with my sleeve.
“You must find Claire’s grimoire,” Uncle Edmund said out of the blue.
“Her what?” Marcus and I asked together.
“Her grimoire. It is a witch’s journal of magic, unique to her. A witch’s bible, if you will. Every incantation, every charm, every invocation she has ever executed will be in that book.”
I looked at Marcus, my eyebrows raised. He nodded, confirming my suspicions.
“I think we already found it,” I said.
“Where is it?”
“Right here in my bag.” I walked to the sofa and pulled the worn, black leather book out and handed it to Uncle Edmund.
Carefully, he turned a few of the crispy pages before snapping the book shut. “Yes indeed. You have found it.” With a look of awe, he handed the book back to me—its owner. “It’s unsafe for anyone to look upon the pages of a witch’s grimoire, other than the witch who it belongs to,” he explained his hastiness of returning it to me.
“But, I thought I wasn’t a witch.”
“You were, from the first moment the amulet was placed around your neck.”
I gasped and looked at Marcus. “Did you know?”
He looked at me as if I were crazy and shrugged. “How would I know now what I knew then?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry.” I rolled my eyes and let out a deep breath.
I held the book with both hands and stared at it, not knowing what to do with it. Marcus and Uncle Edmund watched me intently. My fingers traced over the intricately embossed double spiral on the cover. A strange feeling came over me, a new awareness. Suddenly, there was no more Claire. In my visions and thoughts, she had been replaced by me. Bryn, however, seemed like a totally different person. She was too far away to connect with yet. But I absolutely became aware of the fact that Marcus and Christian were one person—Uncle Edmund’s older brother. We’d betrayed our coven with our ill-fated love, and were murdered for it.
I opened the book to the inside cover. The inscription had been by my hand. Although it had been written ages ago, I still saw traces of similarity to my writing now.
Overwhelmed, my eyes flooded again. A single tear escaped and dripped off my cheek, splattering onto the page. I smeared it across the delicate paper with my thumb and blinked back the rest, swallowing the lump in my throat. I wouldn’t allow myself to cry again.
“It’s written in a different language,” I said, trying fruitlessly to read some words on a page.
“It is written in ancient fairy Welsh,” Uncle Edmund said.
“And I’m supposed to know how to read it?” I asked, skeptical.
“It is
buried within you. It will surface in time.”
I’d had enough. I didn’t know where I wanted to go, but I needed air. It seemed as if I’d been cooped up in Uncle Edmund’s house all day. As I thought about leaving, the mantel clock chimed three times.
“It’s three o’clock. We’d better get going,” Marcus said. He must have felt anxious too.
Uncle Edmund led us to the front door
“So, technically, I’m older than you,” Marcus said to his uncle, lightening the mood, somewhat, gracing us with a half-grin.
“No, technically you’re not. I have lived many more years than you have in all three of your lifetimes put together.” Uncle Edmund chuckled.
“Oh, right.”
“This time around, however, you are going to outlive me, if I have to kill the demon-witch myself.”
He’d just shattered the lightened moment with his reference to Maggie as a demon.
The fog had returned. It seemed fitting. The sun had shone only briefly since I’d moved to Deadwich, why should today be any different?
Uncle Edmund walked with us to the end of the wharf. He looked genuinely relieved now that he’d unburdened himself of the secret he’d been keeping for close to a century. He hugged us both before we got onto the boat.
“Don’t hesitate to come to me for anything. If you need a place to stay, you can hide out here,” he called out as the boat pulled away from the wharf.
I sat at the helm with my arms wrapped around my knees, my body tucked under Marcus’ arm while he steered the boat through the fog. The hum of the motor quickly drowned out the seagulls’ cries.
“I don’t get it,” I said.
“What don’t you get?”
“How could I have been so afraid of the dark all my life, when it was you all along? You were the dark in my nightmares. And now when I think about it, the evil was just a feeling. I never actually saw anything scary in the nightmare, just dark.”
“I didn’t know you were afraid of the dark.”
“Yeah, I always have been,” I said sheepishly.
“Maybe you won’t be now that you know what the dream means: that I’m the dark surrounding you, and I’ve been trying to find you this whole lifetime. That’s why you’ve always had dark dreams—not nightmares. And now, since we’ve met again, I’m able to bring your light to you.”