The Mirror & The Magic

by Coral Smith Saxe

  "Then why is she lying here with no breath left in her body?"

  "I dunna know! She just went all cold like that when we passed the standing stones near the border. She was alive when I took her, Craigen. I'd stake my life on it!"

  "So you have." Craigen gave a nod to another man who stood silent in the shadows.

  Angus began to scream. Craigen waited until he was carried off down the stairs and out of the tower before he said, "Ye can come out, Edana."

  Edana slipped from the alcove behind the tapestry. She limped over to the bed and looked down at the woman who lay there. "Tsk," she said softly. "Another of Darach's dead brides. When will he learn?"

  "She is dead, then?" Craigen took a hand mirror from off the nightstand. He held it under Julia's nose, knowing even as he performed the task that no breath would cloud its surface.

  "Aye, she's gone."

  "Damn the luck!" Craigen tossed the mirror onto the bed, marched to the table, and poured himself some wine. "I wanted her alive, to use for ransoming the last of the MacStruan lands."

  Edana shrugged and toyed with one of Julia's curls. "You still can."

  "What do ye mean? I can't trade on a corpse!"

  "Darach doesn't know she's a corpse."

  Craigen scowled. "The man's no' an idiot. He'll want to see her before he makes any bargain wi' me."

  "Will he?" Edana hummed a little tune.

  "Dammit, witch, stop! I hate that and well ye know it!"

  She laughed but the sound held no mirth. "All right, Craigen. Listen to me. Listen well. Darach loves this one." "So? He loved the other one as well."

  "No. He did not. He was marrying her to please his fatherhis dead father, as you well know. No, he didn't love that scrawny, whey-faced Isobel, his cousin. But this onehe'd give his last drop of blood for this one."

  "But not if she's dead!"

  Edana faced him with a wide-eyed stare. Craigen shrank a bit, but held his ground. "Verra well. Tell me how to make a dead woman live again."

  "Use Celandine. She's of a size with this one and of similar build."

  "Oh, aye. And her hair's as red as the sunrise. That'll fool MacStruan, for certain." Craigen sneered and took another sip of his wine.

  Edana smiled at him. "Craigen, you know I care not whether you get Darach's land. All I want is Darach brought to his knees. Now I can aid you, or you can mock me and I'll be off." She made as if to leave.

  "No, damn it. Ye know I need ye. Ye say we can pass Celandine off as this one? Do it, witch, and I'll give ye the MacStruan on a silver plate."

  "Call her. If I know my Darach, he'll be pounding at the gate within the hour."

  Craigen gazed at her. "Your Darach? It never fails to amaze me how a woman can make a grand love affair out of a wave o' the hand. I doubt the man recalls yer name, witch."

  "Time's wasting," Edana sang out, bending over the MacStruan's woman.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  "Come out, Moreston!"

  Darach cupped his hands around his mouth. "I know ye're in there, hiding like the coward ye are! Show yourself!"

  A robed figure appeared on the parapet of the tower. "What is it ye're wantin', MacStruan?" came the hoarse cry that Darach knew to be Craigen's.

  "Ye know what it is I want!" Darach shouted up. "Let her go and I'll no' burn ye down."

  "And who might this lass be?" Craigen called out. "Someone dear to ye?"

  "Let her go."

  "Perhaps we can reach an understanding MacStruan."

  Darach paused. What was the toad up to now? "No bargains, Moreston. I'm the one callin' the tune. Let her go or I set my men to torchin' everythin' in sight."

  Craigen's voice was sneering. "All your men? How many would that be, MacStruan? Surely ye could count them allye've a full set o' fingers to use!"

  Darach only stared at the figure on the parapet. "I'm waitin'. But I'll no' wait overlong."

  Craigen seemed to be conferring with someone out of view. Darach motioned to Alasdair and Niall to move forward, their torches held high.

  "Moreston. Ye've no more time!"

  "Wait, MacStruan."

  Darach nodded to his men. They halted. "What now?" he asked. "Ye were ever the one for chattin'."

  "I'd treat wi' ye, Darach."

  "Ah," Darach murmured. "So it's Darach now, eh?" He shouted up to the parapet, "Keep your treaties."

  "Are ye sure? I think ye'll want to hear me out this time."

  Darach crossed his arms. He was chafing to be inside that tower, to be with Julia. But he knew Moreston's tricks. He would have to wait and see what was in store.

  "I'll give ye the lass, MacStruan. In exchange for the hills."

  "He wants the mines," Alasdair said in disgust. "He took Julia for the mines."

  Darach said nothing.

  Craigen called out again. "Did ye hear me? I'm offerin' ye the lass for the hills. It's more than fair, Darach. Ye haven't enough people to watch your cows, let alone work your mines. And the lass will be yours."

  "Don't do it," Niall whispered hotly. "Ye know ye can't trust him."

  Darach still kept his own counsel. He raised a hand to signal the tower. "Bring her out, Moreston! I'll no' treat wi' ye if ye've harmed so much as a hair on her head."

  Moreston bowed and backed away from the edge of the parapet.

  "Darach! It's your birthright! Ye can't gamble it away," Niall urged.

  Alasdair shot him a glance and shook his head. Niall flushed but fell silent.

  "Do ye think she's in there, Darach?" Alasdair asked.

  "Aye. I know she is."

  "What of the"

  Alasdair didn't finish. Another figure was approaching the parapet.

  "It's wee Julia!" Niall said excitedly. "She's all right!"

  Darach continued to stare at the figure above him. His Julia, he thought. He should feel joy at seeing her well and standing before him. But he felt nothing.

  Alasdair edged his horse closer to Darach's. "It's no' her, Darach."

  Darach whipped around to face his brother. "How can ye tell?"

  "I'm no' certain, but I think it's another lass. This one doesna resemble Julia about the mouth, if ye can see from here."

  Darach looked. The same lovely black hair. The same height. The same long neck. But her mouth?

  He squinted. "God help me," he whispered. It wasn't Julia.

  Alasdair made a sudden choking sound. Darach looked at him again. His brother's face had gone ashen, his eyes standing out wide. "What?" he growled, feeling his uneasiness increasing by the moment.

  "It's her," Alasdair murmured.

  "Her?" Niall asked. "Julia?"

  "Nay," Darach snapped. "It's another, not Julia." He put his fingers to his lips and gave a piercing whistle.

  From out of the sheltering woods came the rest of the lairds, riding forward, unlit torches in their hands. Darach faced them. "Craigen's played us false once too often. Stand watch." He swung off of his horse and handed the reins to Niall. "I'm goin' in."

  New York hadn't changed, that was for sure, Julia thought. Not that she'd been allowed to see that much of the city since she'd returned. Williams had virtually smuggled her into the U.S., then hustled her into this apartment high over the city. She hadn't been outside of a building or a car since she'd left Scotland.

  A prisoner again, she thought. But this was her choice. When she'd come back in time to the exact day she left it, she knew that she had business to finish in this time. Loose ends. And while her heart ached for Darach, the lairds, and the Highlands, she had a feeling deep within her that she was doing what was right. It was her duty, and a MacStruan was nothing if not honorable.

  She grinned. She thought of herself as a MacStruan these days. A member of the clan. It was a thought that had warmed and sustained her since she had left the standing stones with Agent Williams. She also kept herself going through the sometimes grueling, often boring hours of the Gilette hearings by planning her return to the clach
an. She was going back. No matter what it took, she'd find a way back to Darach. As soon as she finished her obligations here. Then there would be no more ties to this time that could compete with her ties to the Highlands and the whole of Clan MacStruan. Ever since she had left, perhaps even before, she had felt as if a part of her soul were missing.

  She turned to look at Agent Williams and his partner, Agent Diana Kennedy. "How much longer am I going to have to stay here, do you think?" she asked.

  Williams shrugged. "We'll have the word from the grand jury soon, I hope. But you've got to stay here until it's over."

  Kennedy rose from the couch and went to stand beside Julia. She looked out at the view.

  "If you crane your neck until it's really painful," Julia said dryly, "you can see Central Park. Or some trees, anyway."

  "You know, Ms. Addison, there's going to have to be some changes once you've testified. No matter what the outcome of the trial, Gilette's people are not going to be happy with you."

  Julia leaned her head against the glass. She could see the cars floors below, jostling and weaving for position in the street. How strange it all seemed. She hadn't thought that the Highlands could get beneath her skin so quickly. But she was longing for that moist, cool air of the woodlands and glens near Darach's home.

  "Do you understand what I mean, Ms. Addison?" Agent Kennedy's voice pierced her reverie.

  "Aye." Julia sighed. "I ken what ye mean. I'll need to go into hidin'."

  "You sure picked up the accent in the short time you were in Scotland," Kennedy commented.

  "Picked it up?" Julia looked at her. "Hmm. I'd swear it was second nature." She hugged herself, despite the warmth of the room and the sweater she wore. She'd never realized how cold New York could be in the spring.

  Agent Williams crossed to the bar of the hotel room and poured himself another cup of coffee. He added skim milk and leaned back against the bar as he stirred. "Do you know anything about the Witness Protection Program, Ms. Addison?"

  "Please call me Julia. It's what I'm used to."

  "All right. Julia. Are you familiar with the Witness Protection Program or Witness Relocation Program?''

  "I think I saw something about it in a goofy movie once. But that was a long time ago."

  "Well, in your case it's going to be mandated by my superiors. Also your friend, Ms. Coburn, she, uh, mandated it as well, as you heard on her tape."

  "Am I going to be able to see Martine?"

  "You'll see her in court tomorrow."

  "That's good. I miss her." Julia had a sudden, frightening thought. "Martine's no' going to be in trouble on my account, is she? Wi' the Gilettes and all?"

  "I don't think so. After all, she saw nothing. But she'll have protection as well. We'll see to it." Kennedy nodded reassuringly, but her eyes strayed to her partner. Julia caught the glance of concern that passed between them.

  "Ye're thinkin' I'm mad as auld Mad Mac-Phee, are ye no'?" She left the window and went to the sofa again. "I canna say as I blame ye. I don't know what's been happening to me. It's as if one minute I'm here and I'm my old self, and in the next, I'm back in the village, sittin' and talkin' wi' the lairds about the hearth." She looked up from her hands. "But go on. Tell me what you've got planned for me when I've said my piece at the trial."

  "We can't tell you much. It's all pretty hush-hush, and for the safety of everyone, no one person has all the information," said Kennedy. "What I can tell you is that you'll be asked to make some changes in your appearance, you may acquire a husband and a family if that's deemed necessary to throw the Gilettes off your trail. You'll be in a new city, a new state perhaps, and you'll be thoroughly briefed as to what to tell people about your background. New ID, new licenses, new names, new family history, everything will be provided."

  Julia considered this for several moments. "And if I have another plan?"

  "You can certainly ask for anything you think you might need," Williams said. "But we can't guarantee that you'll get what you askit's too risky that someone who knows you would be able to guess what you'd do or where you'd go."

  "What if I could go someplace where no one else could follow?"

  The agents exchanged glances again. "Ms. Addison. Julia." Kennedy came and sat beside her on the couch. "You aren't thinking about taking, well, let's say drastic measures, are you?"

  "Ye mean would I tak' my ain life?" Julia shook her head. "Not hardly. I've too much still to do. I want bairns. I want to grow into a troublesome auld crone who can terrorize her grown children wi' one look. No, I'm talking something completely different. But you've got to promise me that what I tell you will never leave this room. FBI scout's honor?"

  Williams and Kennedy nodded warily.

  "Good. Here's what I need to do."

  Williams and his partner were up late that night after Julia had gone to bed. They sat in silence for a while; then Williams got up to dish up some more of the Chinese takeout they'd had delivered.

  "This is the best moo shu pork I've ever had," he said, folding the fragrant mixture up into the delicate pancake. "She may be completely Looney Tunes, but the woman knows her food."

  "So you think she's nuts?" Kennedy asked.

  "Oh, come on," he said around a mouthful of food. "You were there when she made us take her to Columbia to visit that professor. She wanted a carbon date on that old shirt she brought with her from Scotland. She's delusional about this time travel business."

  "The professor didn't think she was nuts."

  "That's 'cause the guy's name was Fergusson. And he's nuts over anything to do with Scotland."

  "Do you think we should tell the chief about her plan?"

  He shrugged. "We might as well. She won't get what she wants. But maybe it'll help him see that she's an eccentric and they'll have to be careful with her in the relocation process."

  Kennedy shook her head. "I don't know, Chaz. She seems pretty normal to me. Oh, yeah, she's got this fixation about Scotland, but like you said, so does that professor. You don't see him being booted out of Columbia for upholstering his desk chair in his clan tartan."

  "Di. Earth to Diana. Are you serious?" "Yeah, I am. I'm going to tell the chief I think we should do all we can to get her back to Scotland."

  "Thank you, Agent Kennedy. I'm that grateful for your faith i' me."

  They both whirled to see Julia Addison standing in the doorway to her room. She smiled at them both. "Don't worry. I'm used to being told I'm crazy. It's business as usual for me. But if you'll at least take me seriously enough to grant my wishes in relocating me, I'll be as good as gold." She looked at Williams. "That's what you're worried about, isn't it? That my Scotland fixation, as you call it, will come out at the hearing and my credibility will be shot. And if that happens, Gilette's men get a nice ride home."

  Williams rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah, you've got me, Julia. Do you think you can pull this off?"

  "I can and I will. You'll see. And then the minute all this is finished, I'm on the first plane home to the Highlands."

  "Darach!"

  Darach halted in the shelter of a gnarled rowan tree and waited as Alasdair reined in his mount beside him. He had nearly reached the track that led to the gate of the Moreston stronghold.

  "Ye mustn't go in," Alasdair said, breathless.

  "I have to."

  "No, ye don't. At least, no' this way. There's a better spot to catch them unawares." "What are ye sayin'? Since when do ye have knowledge of Castle Moreston?"

  "Since I met . . . someone who lives there."

  "What?"

  "Darach, as ye love Julia and as ye love your clan, come wi' me now and meet wi' her. She can help us." Alasdair's horse carried him around, then back to face Darach. "But ye must come quickly. There's no time to lose."

  Darach hesitated. Julia was in there and God only knew what sort of tortures she was experiencing. He looked at Alasdair. His brother's eyes were pleading. And sincere.

  "Let's go."
r />   They raced back over the field to the eaves of the woods. Alasdair caught up a burning branch from Tommy as he rode, and its light showed them the way to the standing stones.

  Alasdair swung down off his horse before it had come to a halt. He tied the reins to a low branch and carried the torch into the circle of stones. Darach followed more cautiously.

  "Ye can come out," Alasdair called.

  A small, cloaked figure stepped out from behind the tallest stone. Darach looked at Alasdair.

  "Darach, this is Celandine. Celandine, my brother, Darach MacStruan."

  "I'm pleased to meet you," came a sweet, musical voice. "But I know you're impatient. Let us talk." She slipped her hood off her head and Darach stared at the rare beauty who stood before him, beckoning him to the circle. "I've been living in Castle Moreston for a year and a half," she said, taking a seat on one of the stones. "I'm betrothed to the Moreston."

  Darach turned to Alasdair. "Ye fool! What hae ye done?"

  "Whisht!" Alasdair shook his head vehemently. "She's no' a Moreston. She wants to help. Let her! This may be our only chance to withstand the Morestons and save yer Julia."

  "What hae ye to say to me, woman?" Darach growled.

  "Come," she said, beckoning once again. She had a stick in her hand and was rapidly drawing lines in the dirt.

  Darach advanced warily.

  "See? Here is the way you were trying. You won't survive beyond the blink of an eye if you go that way." She pointed with the stick. "Here. At the back. It's treacherous to climb and there is no absolute promise that you'll come in safely. But if you make the climb, you will come to a small postern door. It's old and needs repair. The walls around it are crumbling. Hardly anyone comes or goes from there."

  "Except ye." Darach shot a glance at his brother. He was watching this elfin lass with rapt attention. God in heaven, he thought. Alasdair's in lovewith a Moreston!

  Celandine nodded, not looking up. "Yes. That is how I got out and came here. I made sure the guard there was supplied with plenty of spirits. He should be drunk ere you arrive at his door." "And hae you a key to this door? Or do we fly over the parapets?"