Highland Shift (Highland Destiny: 1) Page 12

  It had taken days for her to clear the front of those panels and figure out how they opened. Was it possible that the secrets the elder Worthington sought when he murdered Faolan’s family had been buried there all along? Was it possible that Faolan himself didn’t even know of the chamber’s existence?

  Tomorrow, while everyone else was meeting with Brigid, Elena would go back down into the chamber to see if her theory held up. She needed to keep this idea to herself until she was more confident the answers they needed could be found there. She couldn’t bear to disappoint Faolan if she was wrong.

  ****

  Elena dominated the dinner conversation over their soup and salad in an effort to keep Faolan from mentioning her humiliating behavior that afternoon. After dinner, Faolan asked if she would be okay by herself for a while. He wanted to go out and look around. He assured her she would be safe, and she believed him. She welcomed the time alone; she needed some space between them. She washed up, changed into her pajamas, and went to bed before he returned.

  When she woke the next morning, Faolan was again on her bed with his arm around her. He had fallen asleep on top of the covers with a little throw blanket covering a ridiculously small part of him, but he felt toasty warm to her. He had on pajama bottoms and nothing else. Elena tried to sneak out from under his arm without waking him, but his arm banded around her as soon as she moved, pulling her close.

  “Good morrow, lass.” He kissed her neck and then rolled on his back and stretched his arms high above his head.

  Elena sat up as soon as he released her and asked, “Was everything okay out there last night?”

  “Aye, the snow stopped around ten. No one was about.”

  They never mentioned the fact he shifted to his wolf form to patrol the grounds. Some things are better left unsaid.

  When she glanced down, she saw Faolan’s pajama bottoms had ridden low across his hips. So low that his persistent erection peaked out from the waistband. Elena fought to keep from licking her lips.

  Reluctantly, she dragged her gaze away and caught Faolan watching her with laughing eyes. “Can we talk about yesterday afternoon yet, lass?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it. Ever,” she said, trying to get up from the bed.

  Faolan wrapped his arms around her waist and sat her on his lap, his erection an obvious indication of his desire. Elena kept her eyes determinedly away from his face. Faolan pulled her chin around, so she was forced to look at him. She sat stiffly, trying to figure out what he was up to this time.

  “Have you changed your mind, Faolan?” she asked with a hint of sarcasm.

  “Nay, Elena,” he said softly, “I have not changed my mind. Yet.”

  A thrill of desire ran through her at the promise in his words.

  “Look at me, love. You need feel no shame about what happened yesterday. Feel me, underneath you,” and he pressed himself against her. “Every time I look at you or smell the scent of you or think of you, the desire to take you roars within me. I am always on the ready for you, and yesterday—” he shifted his hips slightly, rocking against her backside before he continued, his voice a husky growl “—yesterday, you showed me that you are ready for me, too.

  “We doona’ know what tomorrow may bring, so I canna be sayin’ never to you. I feel we are close to answers, Brigid says the time is here. We will be knowin’ something soon, I just know it. Then you and I will have to make some decisions. We canna go back as if we never knew each other. I told you. You have touched my soul. I doona’ know how there can be a true heart when you already own mine.”

  He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Aye, I want you, lass. The day is coming when I may no longer be able to resist your enchantments.” He stood them both up, gave her a kiss that curled her toes, and then left to dress for the day. Whooh.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Elena threw on a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt to ward against the chill in the chamber. She planned to leave the house once Brigid had Red, Lilly, and Faolan in her meeting. With any luck, she would be able to give Faolan some hopeful news by dinnertime.

  Elena assembled small sandwiches and placed the tray in the refrigerator, in case their meeting lasted through the lunch hour. Then she went to the library to build up the fire and arrange the chairs for the meeting. She wanted everyone on the opposite side of the house from the steading. She needed to come and go without attracting their notice. She wasn’t going to tell anyone what she was up to before she had something positive to show them.

  She loaded her backpack with the book on Druids, her camera, and two flashlights, and stowed it by the door so she could grab it on the way out. Just as Elena completed her preparations, Faolan returned with Brigid and a truck bed full of rugs. Faolan and Elena exchanged conspiratorial grins, as everyone helped to carry the rugs into the house. Brigid directed the placement, and hard as it was to believe, each rug fit its room as though designed especially for the space. They were beautiful and perfect. Elena thanked Brigid profusely.

  Once the business with the rugs was completed, Elena suggested they all go to the library to talk, and then excused herself. She was anxious to get started. She stopped long enough to arm herself with the lantern, and walked through the interior to the north wing. She squeezed behind her piles, entered the chamber, and got to work.

  First, she checked both of the closets to see if the tomes were handwritten or mass-produced. Bingo! These were ancient beyond belief. These were genuine illuminated manuscripts on thick, sepia-toned vellum with leather covers and silk bookmarks. Some of the colors of the illumination were faded with age, but the gold and silver were bright, creating strangely vivid paintings. Someone had added personal notes to many of the pages, much as Elena added explanatory notes to her law books during class. In a cursory examination, Elena could see illustrations depicting ceremonies, maps of the night skies, and numerous illustrations of the four seasons.

  She struggled to make out the words. She recognized names of ancient gods, but most of the language was indecipherable. She also found a small number of books in English grouped together on one of the shelves. Elena slipped one of the books carefully into her pack to take back to show Faolan. These had to be the sacred books used by his father and generations of Druid priests before him. Holy cow! Could this be the bulk of the Druid library?

  Faolan and Red had spent years researching where they could, but since Worthington stole the land, they must have been unaware of this secret chamber. There wasn’t anything she could do to decipher the texts herself, but she would give this gift to Faolan. She would help free him from his curse and find his true heart. While losing mine.

  Elena took the keys from the jewelry casket by the door, and steeled her nerves as she walked the long passage to the rooms at the end. Randomly selecting the room on the right to explore first, Elena inserted the key, and the door glided open, a surprise, since it looked as though no one had been in there since Faolan’s father.

  Starkly furnished, the room held a narrow table and two large wooden chairs that looked like simple thrones. One shelf on the back wall held an assortment of daggers, a gold plate, a chalice, and beeswax candles in a golden candelabrum. In the center of the table, displayed in a place of prominence, there was a leather-bound volume at least twelve inches thick. It had several silk ribbons marking pages in different sections of the book.

  Elena’s breath caught in her throat. Could this be what they were looking for? She carefully examined the book, to make sure it was sturdy enough to touch, let alone open. The cover was in excellent shape as was everything within the chamber and she wondered at how it was all so well preserved. She began to examine the tome under the light from her lantern, and dug out two pencils from her backpack, so she could use the erasers to turn the pages. Well-preserved or not, she was not about to mar the pages with oils or dirt from her fingers.

  As soon as Elena opened the cover, the similarity to large, ancient Bibles was obvious. She loo
ked at the room again and wondered if this was a room for religious ceremonies. The table could easily have served as an altar, and she had seen similarly built chairs at the front of churches that her various foster parents had dragged her to.

  It was another illuminated manuscript, with gold and silver leaf, brilliant colors, and intricate details. As she examined the pages, she realized some of them looked more recent as though added over the years. Each page was elegantly lettered and in a language Elena couldn’t read. That’s okay, there are lots of pictures.

  She started to look at each of the illustrations, searching for wolves.

  ****

  In the library, Brigid faced Lilly, Red, and Faolan, and said, “I have read the signs. ‘Tis no mistake. ‘Tis a change in times a comin’. Tell me, how is your search progressing?”

  Faolan made a sound of disgust. “We doona’ have anything so far. We doona’ believe Worthington found the collection, but neither has it been revealed to us. I too have seen signs. The stars are in motion, and dreams are as visions, showing the ancient ones coming closer. I doona’ yet know what it is they demand of me, only that I must control the wolf.”

  Brigid replied, “Aye, the visions have beset me as well. You must be very careful this moon. All depends on you.”

  Faolan made a sound not unlike a growl.

  Brigid sighed, placed a hand on Faolan’s arm, and added gently, “You were nigh on thirteen when you were changed, the time you would have been invited. You were to wear the mantle. You have done well, Faolan, but there is more you must do.”

  “What more must he do? ‘Tis time for him to be free and have his own life,” cried Lilly.

  “The lad has been destined for this life in the stars. One is come who will complete you, one who will bring you to destiny. Follow your light, Faolan of Gailtry.”

  Lilly rose, saying, “I will serve lunch in the kitchen. Red, come and help.”

  Red, who appeared to be deep in thought, hopped to his feet, startled to be called, then followed his wife from the room.

  Faolan looked at Brigid, and she back for a long time, neither speaking. Finally, Faolan, with a great sigh, asked Brigid, “Tis all you have foretold come now?”

  “Och, lad, you still listen with your ears. Listen with your heart. I have told of your one true heart. You must follow your light. ‘Tis a time of change, the time you will bring forth the ancestors, the time of eternal renewal. I canna say more until you have completed your sacrament. You must follow your light.”

  “Och, old woman! My light! My light! Canna you say anything I understand?” Faolan shouted.

  Brigid laughed, then turned serious. “Follow your light, Faolan. ‘Tis here, this is the time, ‘twill be clear, but danger is close. This moon all could be lost. Think on all I have told you.” She rose and left the room to follow Lilly and Red.

  Faolan stayed, committing her words to memory, as was his duty. Later, he would meditate on them until the meaning was clear in his heart.

  *

  The four of them enjoyed the lunch Elena had prepared before Faolan drove Brigid home. He had looked for Elena, so she could either join them or say good-bye, but he hadn’t found her. Her car wasn’t in the yard—he couldna remember…had it been there earlier? He realized she must have gone to town unescorted. Still, she would be safe enough in the daylight.

  When Faolan returned from taking Brigid home, he sat at the table with Red and Lilly, talking over all they had heard. Brigid was wise in the old ways, and although she had never shared her story with him, he suspected she had been the life mate of a Druid. Nay, maybe she herself was a Druid Priestess or even a witch, he thought. Her knowledge was vast, but she spoke in riddles, guided through divination to share only certain knowledge with him.

  Brigid had been particularly insistent this time, and there was a sense of urgency that hadn’t been there in all the years he’d known her. He felt a pivotal event was on the horizon. He dared hope ‘twas the lifting of the curse, yet feared it would mean he would lose Elena forever.

  Faolan went back to the library to work further on the Gaelic books, hoping to find something useful for Elena’s sake. She had pinned such hope on finding a clue in these books, but most of them were relatively recent, many less than a hundred years old. He doubted there would be any of the old ways included, especially not in a publicly available book.

  He sensed an old and noble soul within Elena, and he mourned her already, but leave him she must. From what Brigid had said, his heart was near, but so was danger. He needed to protect Elena from his life. He must know that she was safe, even if it meant she was safe with someone else, someone she would grow to love in time. The thought saddened him. He would have a few more months near her, not that a few months would be enough. One lifetime would not be enough. Never had another touched his soul, yet Brigid had said his heart was coming. How could he love another? There was no more room in his heart; Elena had taken it.

  Follow his light, Brigid had said. For many years, Brigid had been telling him his true heart must be found in order to lift the curse, now she spoke of light. What did it mean? What was she trying to tell him? Faolan found the reference books on the shelf and began to look at the various ways to translate light, to use light, to have a light. Nothing there seemed helpful.

  Elena’s computer was next, but too many search results made it futile. If only Brigid would be more specific about which light. He blew out a frustrated breath, Faolan stood and restlessly began pacing.

  He knew Brigid set great store in names. She was named for Brigit, the Celtic goddess of inspiration and healing, daughter of Dagda, and a Tuatha De Danaan. Faolan knew his own name meant ‘Little Wolf,’ which seemed a strange irony to be named for that which you would become. Could Brigid mean for him to follow his light, with light referring to a person’s name?

  Again, he turned to Elena’s computer and searched for sites that would help him find names that meant light, or some variation of light. The first search revealed more than two million entries, most of them web sites devoted to finding the perfect name for a baby. He randomly selected one and began.

  Faolan sucked in a sharp breath, and his heart raced. It had taken him a long time, because he had been looking for Gaelic names. This was a name more associated with Spain than Scotland, but he was sure. Now he now knew what Brigid meant. It was the name of his destiny, his true love, and his true heart.

  Elena, form of Helene. Torch, light.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Hunched over the book for hours, Elena finally stood and stretched. What started as a cursory inspection of the large volume had evolved into an obsessive search for truth. It was a comprehensive description of Druid life through the ages, from the mundane to the fantastic. There were hundreds of illustrations, each followed by explanatory text. Or at least she assumed it was an explanation, just as she assumed the next part was the actual spell associated with the picture. Too bad, I missed out on taking Gaelic as a foreign language.

  About halfway through she discovered the actual spell they needed to free Faolan. A man was drawn in a series that showed his transformation from full man to full wolf. There was no one with him, he didn’t appear in pain, and it was daylight. Nothing about the illustration indicated he was suffering in any way.

  By contrast, the next set of pictures showed one man acting as spell caster, another as victim. The victim wore an expression of terrible agony, and he was more than half formed into a wolf. The full moon was clear in the night sky, and a woman cowered in the background, as though afraid the wolf would eat her. Elena shivered before something about the picture made her take a closer look. The spell caster was holding a mirror in his hand and below the picture of the wolf was another illustration of a mirror. It looked exactly like the mirror that she’d hidden in her room.

  This really was it, Elena was sure of it. She held the secret in her hands that would free Faolan, Red, and Lilly! They needed the mirror in the picture, and
she knew where to find it. The spell was in the book; the cure was so close. It didn’t matter that she would lose Faolan completely once he was cured. Nothing else mattered at this moment, not now that she knew he could be freed from his terrible curse.

  Elena put the book carefully in her pack; she would not let it out of her sight. She wanted to wait to tell him until they were alone, so after dinner would be best. Dinner! Elena had been so busy all morning that she’d missed breakfast completely. Lunch must be long over, and she was thirsty and hungry. Hopefully, there was a nice big roast or something similarly filling for dinner.

  Elena hefted her pack onto her back and opened the door. Or rather, she tried to open the door… the handle wouldn’t turn. She yanked and pulled, twisted, and kicked, but the door wouldn’t budge. Panic set in immediately and she was no longer the intrepid explorer of all things magick. As memories of the worst of the foster homes flooded her, she started banging on the door, yelling and screaming for someone to let her out.

  Finally, forcing herself to calm, she remembered how she’d opened the panels to the chamber. She laid her hands on the door, concentrated very hard, and prayed for it to open as she pushed. Nothing happened. Breathing fast, Elena pressed her hands against every surface of the door, including the doorknob, hinges, and the keyhole, anything she could think of. Still nothing worked.

  Oh God, no…not this, please, not this. Elena carefully examined each of the walls, looking for markings, looseness, or warmth. Anything to indicate there might be more than meets the eye. There was nothing to indicate there was another way out. The floor and ceiling were similarly disappointing.

  Please let me out, I’ll be good, I’ll be good. The familiar childhood plea came back to her now, and her throat closed on a scream. She returned to the door, fighting against her captivity until her throat was raw and her fingers bled. When she could no longer claw at the door, she sank to the floor with her back against the door. Wrapping her arms around her knees, she rocked, lost somewhere in her past. Someone always comes home to let me out eventually.