Restoration: A Historical Novella (The Path to Redemption Series)

by Kimbra Swain

  When she spoke the name, I knew the name for the reputation of the Scáthach of Scotland spread all the way to the first people’s tribes in America. I admired her beauty, and the strong features of her body. Every muscle in her body sewn together for maximum damage and prowess. She was magnificent.

  Abigail stared at me waiting for me to speak to her, and I’m sure she noticed my approval of the great warrior. “Naabaahii of Alba, Nizhónígo ałhééhosiilzįįd. Translated from my language, pleased to meet you, Warrior of Scotland.” Her hazel eyes twinkled at my greeting, and she bowed her head slightly to me.

  The Scáthach of Scotland, a member of the Tuatha Dé Dannan, trained the great warriors from their legends. She trained the great Cú Chulainn with his ríastrad and gave him the magical spear Gáe Bulg. Once a warrior completed his training, she rewarded them with a night in her bed. She trained them to pole vault, battle underwater and fight with a spear. Although the spear she now held looked more like a harpoon with sharp barbs around the head. A deadly, bloody weapon. Clearly, she had no intentions to only wound her opponents. Scáthach fought to kill and did it with bloody results. I would repeat my training to reap the rewards she offered.

  “I travelled from the Isle of Skye to visit you, because your time in Northumberland will soon end. Queen Áine of the Fae bade me come to you, and present you with a gift from Tír na nÓg,” Scáthach said.

  Abigail stared in disbelief. “Why would the Queen send a gift to me?”

  “Her majesty foresaw the trials you’ve faced, and as one of her people, she wanted to give you a gift for your journey going forward,” she said and opened her hand. A sparkling jewel stone lay in her palm, and she offered it to Abigail. The orange stone though rounded and domed contained shimmering flecks that radiated when the sun hit it. “You are to take it to your Aunt Lianne. She will know what to do with it.”

  Abigail, wary to accept a gift from the Fae asked, “The stone is beautiful, and I would accept the gift. However, without being rude, I must ask, what are the terms to receive this gift from her?”

  “It is with pleasure that I tell you, Child of the Sun, that you will owe no obligation to the Queen, the Fae or myself for accepting this gift. It is given freely with no attachments,” Scáthach explained.

  Abigail turned to me, and by the look on her face, I knew she still questioned the unconditional gift. “Do you swear that this gift is given unconditionally?” I asked the warrior.

  “I swear on my life and power,” she said and the wind from the sea swirled up and around us and sealed her oath.

  Abigail held out her hand to Scáthach and accepted the stone. “Please thank her for me. Express to her that I will visit her one day and convey my thanks in person,” Abigail said.

  “It will be done as you wish,” she replied. “May I ask a personal question?”

  “Of course,” Abigail replied as she admired the stone.

  “Your trial included walking in darkness and returning with a shadow?” she asked.

  Abigail’s eyes shot up to her, and she shuddered at the mention of the shadow. Abigail swallowed and replied, “Yes, the shadow is part of me.” The question from the warrior made me tense, but I relaxed when Abigail freely admitted to the presence of the shadow.

  “May I see it?”

  Abigail handed me the sunstone and held her palm in the air. She closed her palm and opened it to reveal the smoky crystal in her hand. Scáthach mimicked her movements, and when she opened her palm, an identical crystal rested in her hand. Known to the legends as the Shadow Warrior Maid, we realized that she too, had faced the same trial as Abigail.

  “You accept it as part of you?” Scáthach said.

  “I do,” Abigail replied.

  “Then do not fear to show it when needed. Will you show me the Shadow?” Scáthach asked. “As a token of my kinship, I shall show you mine.”

  Scáthach closed her palm and whispered a few words. Her figure shimmered, and a black gown with a leather belt inlaid with silver knotwork appeared. Her skin paled and her eyes darkened to black. All around us the field filled with crows that began to caw. She held a pale hand up to the sky, and a large crow descended and landed upon it.

  “Morrigan,” Abigail whispered.

  “I am the Morrigan by Divine Inheritance. I placed the inheritance in my shadow crystal, and now complete the work as passed to me by The Morrigan herself,” she explained. “I assumed the aspects of escorting the worthy dead to the land of eternal youth.”

  Abigail nodded and clasped her crystal. Abigail’s features darkened slightly and her hair turned to chestnut. Her eyes flashed a brilliant violet, and her lips upturned into a sultry smile. She turned and flashed it to me, and I closed my eyes remembering that her shadow enjoyed flirting with me. Abigail turned back to the woman with the crow.

  “Impressive. You are exquisite, my dear,” she said walking forward and putting her free hand on Abigail’s cheek. “It is a part of you, and because you accept it, you can use it. It shall be a disguise, a glamour and a fitting image to explore new parts of your nature. The shadow is not evil unless you wish it to be.”

  The woman dropped her hand to her side and spoke words again. The surrounding air sucked inward like a whirlpool, and the Morrigan and her crows disappeared. Scáthach, the maiden warrior, stood before us once again. Opening her palm to reveal the crystal, Abigail transformed back into her original form.

  “Thank you, Scáthach, for the transport of the gift, and the wisdom you have shared with me today. In the future, if a time comes that I might aid you, I do plead with you to request my help,” Abigail graciously offered.

  Scáthach bowed to her slightly. “I will keep that in mind. Safe journey to you, Child of Sun and Shadows. Well met, Slayer,” she said and turned to walk away from us. I heard her voice on the wind, and she transformed into a massive crow and flew off to the North.

  Turning to look at me, Abigail’s face filled with awe and wonder. For the first time since I had met Abigail, she was speechless. I smiled at her and said, “A walk with you is never normal.”

  She shook off her amazement and replied, “If it weren’t for me, you’d never have any fun.”

  “I can think of entertainment that doesn’t include standing in a muddy field with a steady rain approaching,” I said.

  Her eyes flashed violet, and she said, “What kind of entertainment?”

  I swallowed and quickly turned back to the house. “Come, we must hurry before the rain is upon us,” I replied. Perhaps the shadow in her identified with the shadowy parts of myself, but whatever it was, it was more alluring than I ever expected. I trudged through the mud to the drive and stomped my feet to remove the cakes of mud from my boots.

  Abigail stepped onto the drive and lightly tramped toward the house removing the mud from her shoes with each step. I stood there watching her walk. She looked back at me with velvet green eyes and said, “What?” A devious grin crossed her face, and she headed back toward the house.

  I shook my head in confusion because I had no idea what was going on between us. It wasn’t as if she frustrated me any less than she used to. In fact, she probably frustrated me more. Reminding myself of her death and the trial she faced, I knew that she still had a long road before she was fully recovered from the entire ordeal. When I promised Gabriel that I would take care of her, an urge to protect her rippled through me, and perhaps that urge also helped me to see her in a different way. In many different and unexpected ways.

  We arrived at the Lisbon compound early in the morning on a cold December day. Jumping circle to circle, we ported into the vast facility. The compound appeared to the everyday person’s perspective to be a large farm on the outskirts of the main city. Barracks provided housing for the many workers of the Agency, and the fields were training grounds for our operatives. We used the facility to train our various agents until recently. I suggested to my Grandfather, who had finally showed up to check on me five months after my dea
th, that we start training groups of people to cover the streets for proxies much like the Italian families used in New York. The mob tactics left many things to be desired, but the actual organization ran like a well-oiled machine. There were things we needed to learn from it and expand into our own operations.

  My shoes clacked through the tile hallways of the main house, and my dress swished around my legs. Headquarters had moved several times over the years, but Lisbon proved to be our best spot so far. It remained virtually untouched by the current war.

  Lincoln walked beside me and kept adjusting his tie.

  “What is wrong with you? Why do you keep fidgeting?” I asked. “I might as well have brought Raif with me.”

  “Do not dare to compare me to the rat, Abigail. I hate these garments,” he scowled.

  “Would you like them better if I told you that you looked nice in them?”

  “No,” he grunted. I laughed, and the sound echoed through the halls.

  Grandfather had summoned us to the compound, and in his mysterious way, he refused to tell us why it was so urgent that we leave the house in Northumberland. I hadn’t fully recovered from the whole ordeal. Being away from the fray helped immensely, but I knew it wouldn’t last forever. Lincoln stayed the entire time, as he had promised. Grumpy, bored and typically restless. Thomas stayed with us for almost a month, then he went on about his business. He worked for the Agency as well, but only on rare occasions. I think he and Lincoln had the same arrangement with my Grandfather, but Lincoln enjoyed the fighting much more than Thomas did.

  We approached Gregory Theodoard’s office, and Lincoln continued to pull on his tie.

  “Just take it off,” I suggested.

  “No, you said that all the proper men are wearing them,” he returned. It surprised me that he even heard me say such a thing.

  “I did say that; however, you aren’t fooling anyone, Lincoln. You’ll never be a proper man,” I teased.

  His eyes shot up to mine, realized I had teased him, and looked back down. He lifted an eyebrow and teased back, “I suppose your attempts to civilize me will have failed. Valiant attempt, though. You are to be commended.”

  “I haven’t given up yet,” I sighed. “So much work to do.” He opened door for me, and we entered the office of the Greek Titan, Hyperion.

  “Ah, yes! Please come in and sit down. It is good to see you both,” his voice boomed in the room. We both took seats opposite of him, and he sat at the desk. There were many papers and files scattered about and it looked very disorganized. “How are you feeling, Abigail?”

  “I’m quite well, considering I died a few months ago,” I said making light of my death. I found comfort in humor and deflection.

  “Please, my child, do not scoff at such things,” he said.

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “Because it was devastating to all of us. We nearly lost you,” he said.

  “You didn’t. I’m here, and you are stuck with me,” I replied. Lincoln grunted. I shot him a look, and he turned to look out the window. Grandfather watched the exchange, and smiled.

  “I summoned you here, because on the night you died, I believe that Lincoln’s original task included hunting down a Klavasi in Paris,” he looked at Lincoln.

  “Yes, sir. I did not complete that task,” Lincoln admitted. We both knew he didn’t go because he had been watching over me ever since. He told me about the night he and Samara spent in Paris, and that he’d abandoned the mission to seek out the rabid vampire.

  “Well, that one Klavasi is now close to one hundred strong,” he replied.

  Lincoln groaned.

  “We will go take care of them,” I replied.

  “No, you won’t,” Lincoln interjected.

  “You are going to kill 100 vampires on your own?” I asked.

  “No, I will kill them with a team and you will stay here while I take care of it,” he said.

  “I will not,” I replied. “There is no reason I can’t go and help.”

  “You can’t go out there and run the risk of dying again!” he shouted. He then realized he’d lost control of his temper. He scowled at me and turned back to the window.

  I looked at Grandfather. He ignored me and asked, “Lincoln, is she well enough to go back to work?”

  No,” he said.

  “Lincoln, you should remember to leave your personal opinions out of your reply to me,” Hyperion warned.

  “She is healthy. Her mind is whole again, but the risk is too high,” he responded.

  “Very well. Abigail, you will remain here while Lincoln takes a team up to Paris and extinguishes the problem that is growing there,” he said.

  “No, you cannot make me stay,” I spat at him.

  “You will not be a petulant child to me!” Hyperion said. “I trust his judgment. If he says you aren’t ready, then you aren’t ready.”

  “Fine!” I said and got up to leave.

  “Sit down, Abigail,” Hyperion requested. He did not order it.

  I opened the door and walked out into the hallway. As I stomped off to the front doors, my shoes clacked louder than before and echoed through the halls. I heard Lincoln rushing up behind me.

  “Leave me alone,” I said before he reached me.

  “Please, wait a moment,” he said. I turned to him in fury, but the look on his face stopped me. I saw many things in that moment. Regret. Fear. Sadness. Reason.

  “What?” I said, and looked down at my feet. A large group of people from the training facility came in through a side door. I watched them all enter the hallway and walk toward the kitchens. Lincoln pulled me into a side room.

  “It’s not that I don’t think you are capable. You most certainly are, but Abby, going into a den of evil to start back is not the way to do it. You haven’t tested yourself since you accepted your darker side. This kind of fight is not the right way to do it. Please,” he pleaded with me.

  “What do you suggest as a fight to try out my sanity, Lincoln?” I asked bitterly.

  “I don’t know, but this is not it. I cannot bring you back to him dead again. I cannot face that again,” he said. He turned his eyes away from me.

  “Grandfather only wants me alive to fight in his eternal war,” I said. Lincoln waved his hand at me like I misunderstood what he said. I puzzled at his meaning. “You don’t have to babysit me anymore. Just go fight your vampires. I’ll see you the next time he orders you do go with me somewhere.”

  “No, you will see me when I return from Paris. I made a promise,” he said.

  “I released you from your oath. Grandfather knows that,” I said.

  “I thought you were finally learning to tolerate me,” his tone changed.

  I clamped my mouth shut before I spoke again. He tried to get me to deflect, and I obliged, “I will never tolerate you, Lincoln.”

  He smiled, but returned to the seriousness, “Next time, you can go. I’ll be happy to have you fighting with me.”

  “Happy?”

  “Well, you are right. Happy is too strong a word. Perhaps I should say thankful,” he responded. In the last few months, I’d seen such kindness in Lincoln that I’d never seen before my death. Part of me hated that it took so long for me to see it even existed. Even worse, that it took me dying to see it.

  I sighed. “Be safe,” I offered.

  “Safe isn’t fun at all,” he responded and pulled at his tie again.

  “Just take it off already!” I teased and reached for it. He caught my hand.

  “No, leave it. I will be back soon,” he said and kissed the back of my hand. He turned and left the room. I stood there stunned for a moment.

  WHILE AT THE COMPOUND, I knew one person in particular I needed to visit. After asking around, I discovered where I could find Jay Stafford. The sun brightened the day, and warm breezes blew off the Mediterranean Sea. In January, Lisbon’s climate seemed more like summer in England. I wore a light jacket and approached a small house on the north side of the A
gency compound. Knocking on the door, I nervously fidgeted. Tony and Tommy also lived in the house.

  A handsome man with mahogany hair and denim blue eyes opened the door. I met his eyes and smiled. Stunned at my unannounced appearance, he stood in the doorway unmoving.

  “May I come in?” I asked politely.

  “Yes, of course. Forgive me,” he stammered and stood back to allow me to enter.

  I took off the jacket, and he reached for it still staring at me. He laid it over a chair that sat near the door. The entry of the home had marble floors and alabaster walls. Gold gilded paintings circled the room on the walls, and rich furnishings provided by the Agency filled all the rooms.

  “I’m sorry I came without letting you know beforehand, but part of me feared you wouldn’t want to see me,” I said.

  “Why would you think that?” he said quietly.

  I heard someone moving around upstairs and looked in that direction. “I’m sorry, you have company,” I said. Jay always had a beautiful woman around him. I should have made an appointment to see him.

  “No, it’s just Tony,” he said still staring at me.

  I looked down because his stare made me nervous. “Thank you for calling for help that night.” I had contemplated my words for several months, and the best thing I could come up with was to thank him for contacting Jasper and Lincoln. “I’m so sorry about all of it,” I added.

  He shook his head and finally looked away from me. “You are thanking me?” he asked.

  “Yes, of course, Jay,” I said.

  “If I hadn’t pressed you that night, you might…”

  Crossing over to where he stood, I tilted his face to meet my eyes once again. “If we had done anything different, we both would have died. I do not blame you for anything, Jay.”

  A tear rolled down his cheek and over my hand. He wrapped me up in his arms and cried on my shoulder. My heart ached for his pain, because I cared for him. He endured my death by blaming himself. I wanted desperately to relieve him from that pain.

  “Abigail!” a booming voice entered the room. Tony’s voice echoed loudly in the house. I laughed at his enthusiasm. Jay moved back away from me, and Tony wrapped me up and squeezed.