The Ravenswynd Series - Boxed Set

by Sharon Ricklin Jones

  Glancing down, I noticed that the place where we stood appeared to be covered by a dense layer of fallen leaves, swirling and flowing in circles like a liquid whirlwind. They appeared red in color; yet a quick scan around the area showed me that there weren’t any trees nearby at all.

  Am I in the middle of a vision?

  As a new crop of icy goose bumps traveled up my legs, I was immediately reminded of the words from Sibelle’s prophecy.

  One final slash brings forth the flood,

  Two feet will stand upon the blood.

  I gave a quick shiver; Emrys pulled me close and our eyes met. I realized he had been paying closer attention to my musings and was now aware of my fear. His warm touch showed me he was right there with me, I had no need to fear the unknown, and according to Sibelle’s prophecy, everything would turn out just fine. I looked down at my feet again and the red leaves that I had seen were nothing more than a reddish tint to the muddy bog. No leaves at all.

  With a shake of my head, I dismissed the preceding minutes as part illusion and part wishful thinking. But I wondered too, what if I had been inclined to actually step closer to the stones? Perhaps I would have been given a real and complete vision of what to expect in the future. After all, I was convinced that this place was much more than just a pile of stones in a circular arrangement, placed there by some ancient civilization for artistic value. Without question, this place was supernatural. I sighed.

  Maybe next time I won’t be such a chicken.

  With another squeeze and a soft laugh, Emrys suggested that we check out the visitor center. And since the wind had picked up considerably, the inviting warmth of the tea-room would be a welcome change in many more ways than one.

  * * *

  The hot mug warmed my cold hands, and between sips I held it snugly between them. “I’m glad you brought me here, Emrys.” Without explanation, he knew I meant The Hebrides, not necessarily the creepy ancient stones. “Someday I’ll have to bring Melinda. Maybe we could come in warmer weather next time?”

  He gave a slow nod as he sipped his tea; deep in thought, in another world.

  “Where are you?” I asked, reaching across the small table, touching his hand.

  He sighed and peered into my eyes, saying, “I do not know.”

  “Well, if you don’t know, then no one does,” I said softly, hoping to lighten the weightiness of his mood. What are you thinking about?”

  After a short silence and another deep sigh, his eyes still on mine, he finally said, “My parents.”

  I didn’t quite know how to respond. His answer had taken me by surprise and I wondered if being near Sibelle had brought up old memories for him.

  After a small nod he answered my thoughts, and said, “I have always had the feeling she knows where my father is. That is, if he is even still alive.” He watched for my reaction as his expression clouded. “I stopped asking her about it decades ago.”

  My mind reeled with thoughts and ideas. “Surely she knows if he is alive or not!” I blurted out, louder than I’d intended. The people at the next table glanced at us reminding me we were not alone. There were only a few empty tables, but everyone else seemed to be conversing in hushed tones. “Why did you stop asking?” I whispered.

  “Sibelle made it quite clear that she was not in a position to say one way or the other and, even if she knew for sure, she would not tell me. She always said that if someone wanted to be found, they would leave a better trail.”

  I could see that this topic was hurtful; the pain was written all over his frowning forehead. I squeezed his hand gently and said, “Emrys, I love you. I know it’s different, but I do understand how you feel.”

  His eyes softened immediately and he gave a quick nod. “Yes, I suppose you do.”

  I realized at once that he was being kind. After all, my parents died when I was quite young, and I barely remembered them. His situation was far worse; losing his mother at seventeen and his father at twenty-seven. No doubt, he understood that his mother would have passed away many years ago, but not knowing the fate of his father had to be excruciating.

  “Perhaps that is why fate has brought us together,” he suggested. “We both know the meaning of great loss. Your presence is such a comfort to me, my lovely wife. I will spend the rest of eternity making sure you are happy.”

  “I know, and I feel exactly the same about you, Emrys. “I believe enduring great loss is what compels one to strive even harder to be devoted to true love.”

  A warm smile lit up his face as he whispered, “Are you even remotely aware of how much I love you? And how much I would love to kiss you?” His expression and sentiments burned off any remaining chill I felt.

  “I believe it is equal to my love for you,” I said with a grin.

  I could see he attempted to rid himself of his overwhelming sadness and get back to a more cheerful outlook. I reached over the teacups and grabbed a handful of his hair, giving a gentle tug. “Come here, you.”

  I rose up part way out of my chair, leaned on the table, and meeting halfway, we kissed. I knew people were gawking, but I didn’t care. They could think whatever they wished. My heart overflowed with love, and this was the only way I could show him in public. His lips were scrumptiously electrified cherries, and immediate waves of heat permeated all through me.

  I sat back down and grinned as I picked my cup up again. “This tea is delicious, isn’t it?” I asked with a smirk.

  Emrys laughed at my feeble attempt to act nonchalant and hide my true feelings. He knew exactly what I was thinking, and somehow I had a feeling his mind was in harmony with mine. If not physically, then at the very least, he connected with me mentally.

  “Yes, quite delicious indeed. But be careful, my love. I would not want you to burn your mouth. It is ever so hot.”

  We both snickered at his innuendo. “Maybe we should think about getting back to our lodge. We can take the tea with us, but we’ll have to hurry. We wouldn’t want it to cool off too much,” I said, glancing around for a server.

  A short time later the bill was paid, and we were back in the cold wind headed for the shelter of the car, and then speeding down the road with nothing but thoughts of even warmer places in our collective mind. Emrys drove while I balanced the two cups, their heat supposedly contained within the Styrofoam containers. He glanced over at me as I held them out in front away from my legs lest they should spill over the tops during his maneuvering around corners and over hills. He smiled and said, “Even if things do cool down, I am quite sure there are several ways we can heat them right back up in no time at all.”

  Nothing cooled down at all.

  * * *

  The day after we explored the Callanish standing stones, we visited a Broch where we learned the ancient residents had once used for a hideaway from the Vikings. Later on we spent a quiet evening in front of our fireplace, relaxing with a lovely flask of Ambrosia. I didn’t even ask where our supply came from any more, Emrys had so many connections, it was too hard to keep them all straight.

  Luckily the next day was sunny and mild. We ordered a specially prepared picnic lunch to take with on our journey. We drove until the road ran out, turning into nothing more than a footpath, and then we parked and headed out for a leisurely walk to the beach. We strolled along through wild flower meadows, explored the cliff tops, and eventually came across a deserted stretch of sand where we decided to have our picnic. Emrys spread out the blanket as I unpacked the fresh Scottish smoked salmon, warm homemade soup, freshly baked coffee cake, and a lovely bottle of champagne. The ground felt chilly on our backsides, but it was well worth it, spending time watching the waves, listening to the sound of seagulls, just relaxing and enjoying one another’s company.

  We used the next several days to go island hopping, and it surprised me to find how enchanting these Scottish Isles really were. Each stop we made was filled with an abundance of character and charm. Not only were the sunrises spectacular; the sunsets were equal
ly dramatic. There was a huge mix of colorful wildlife, and some of the local history completely fascinated me. One moment we’d be viewing archeological sites that were over four thousand years old and, the next, sitting in a completely modern restaurant eating seafood. Of course, while visiting the ancient sites, quite often my mind wandered back to Sibelle.

  Is it possible she had been here as long as some of these rocks?

  The cliché “older than dirt” seemed to take on a whole new meaning to me. I caught Emrys chuckling at my silly musings several times during our days of exploration, and most often, I’d just grin at him and give my head a shake.

  Before leaving the islands, we managed to get in one more visit with our famed prophetess. We didn’t talk about visions or prophesies; instead Sibelle had invited us for a tasty brunch that she prepared herself. There was a gigantic bowl of fresh fruits, bacon and eggs, grilled tomato, and toast and marmalade. It was fantastic and filling. And for drinks, she had tall glasses of Ambrosia - a most delicious donor, of course, and cups of steaming hot English tea.

  It was nice to just sit and visit while we ate, and even though it was enjoyable and relaxing, this time I came away feeling like she was holding back a huge secret. The impression was stronger than our first visit, and I caught her eyeing Emrys with a thoughtful grin several times. I could not, for the life of me, imagine what it was that she felt so compelled to keep from us, but I was sure there was something. And, whatever it was - it was gigantic. Emrys seemed completely calm, so unruffled by her, in fact, that it actually frustrated me. How could he not see that she was hiding something?

  Later on, after our third go around about Sibelle’s secrecy, Emrys, in total exasperation, said, “Elizabeth, I cannot keep saying the same thing over and over. I do not know what you want me to say any longer. I have said it three different times, and no matter what verbiage I use, you come back with the same questions. Sibelle has always kept secrets. She will only say what she feels is necessary to get us through without ever divulging details. I cannot believe you have not grasped this concept yet. If you think you can get her to open up, well, by all means, give it a go. I stopped trying decades ago.” He paused and sighed and took a drink of his ice water. “But, please, my dear-sweet-beautiful-loving-wife, I no longer wish to continue this same conversation. Go on and ask her yourself.” He took a large breath, folded his arms across his chest, and said, “I shall even drive you there right now, if you swear you will not ask me about it again.”

  We had been enjoying a nice dinner at one of the seaside restaurants. I knew her cottage was somewhere between where we dined, and our lodge. I remembered passing her road on the way. Even though that was our last afternoon on the island, and I hated to waste our sightseeing time, I couldn’t seem to stop myself. I wasn’t even sure he’d meant it. I raised an eyebrow and quipped, “Fine. We’ll skip our last tour. I’ve seen plenty of beaches. I don’t need to find any more shells. It’s too cold out anyway.” I flipped my hair behind my shoulder in an act of indifference, cocked my head to the side, all prepared to argue my case.

  Surprisingly, he raised his eyebrows in acquiescence and with a long sigh, said, “As you wish.”

  We drove in silence, and as we pulled onto the last stretch of road, my stomach tied into a tight knot. My brain began to feel equally tangled up as I fought to remember what I wanted to ask Sibelle. And it didn’t help that Emrys was so damn quiet.

  This silence is maddening!

  Emrys parked the rental car and just sat there. I twitched with the nerves of a trapped rat. “Aren’t you coming?” I asked. It bugged me that I even had to mention it, but he remained still as a statue, staring straight ahead, his hands still gripping the steering wheel.

  “No,” he sighed. “I do not wish to partake of your insatiable desire to know things that are not meant to be revealed.”

  He was stoic. And his resistance made me fume. But, instead of giving in, I grasped the handle of the car door, opened it with a jerk and jumped out into the cold.

  “Fine,” I snapped, bending down and glaring at the side of his head. “As you wish.” I slammed the door as hard as I possibly could. I hadn’t considered the heaviness of the door, or the strength of the gusty wind. My slam was barely noticeable.

  Damn it!

  I clambered up the steep stairway, step by crooked step, careful to avoid any icy patches, grumbling under my breath, “I can’t believe he is so stubborn.” I looked up just in time to see a huge white owl fly away, most likely scared off by my loud crunchy boots. I wondered if this was the same owl I had heard on our first visit here.

  Wait a minute. Why were owls always showing up in broad daylight lately anyway? Didn’t they only come out at night? Perhaps the owls in Great Britain had different habits than in the States.

  I shook my head, trying desperately to clear it of inane ideas and questions. All I wanted to know right now was Sibelle’s big secret.

  Finally reaching the top, I gingerly knocked at the giant wooden door. I didn’t even know if she was home. How stupid to just show up without first calling. Uninvited!

  What the flaming hell was I thinking?

  I started to feel anxious, unsure of myself, imagining she’d be annoyed to find me hovering around her doorway with a pile of questions she had absolutely no intention of answering. I cranked my head to peek down the crooked pathway, almost deciding to begin the trek back down toward the waiting, warm car. I discovered Emrys standing outside in the blustery cold, leaning casually on the door, his hands buried deep in his pockets, one foot crossed over the other and his hair billowing out horizontal with each whip of wind. I opened my mouth to shout to him, but before I could, the big door opened with a loud creak. Twisting around to Sibelle’s smiling face, a gust of wind whipped a strand of hair into my face, and I froze. Shivering from the cold and trying to smile through my nerves, I remained uncharacteristically mute. The deep blue shawl pulled tightly around her shoulders was the only thing that seemed to make sense right then.

  “Aye, Lassie, I dinna think it would be long til ye would be a knockin. Come in, I ken ye must be cold.” She waved down to Emrys and never even asked why he hadn’t joined us. Of course, she knew.

  “Do ye wish a cup o tea?” she asked, gliding over to the sofa. She moved a blanket and a pillow over, and said, “Sit, make yerself comfortable.”

  My mind emptied of all questions but the one. I knew there were more, but I had concentrated so hard on the main one that all the rest had vaporized - again. I had to keep the important one in place, lest it should also turn to air and disappear in the clouds of my mind. I gave a polite shake of my head, and said, “No, thanks.”

  Sibelle sat on the rocker across from me. She leaned forward and in a soft, kind voice, said, “I ken why ye’ve come back. I canna tell ye whit it is ye wish to hear. If yer guid husband dinna hae the gift of hearing all the thoughts of yer mynd, it verra weill could be an ither story.”

  “You can’t tell me because Emrys can read my mind?” I asked, completely taken off guard. I thought for sure this had to do with me, not him at all. “And you’re saying you would feel compelled to tell me if he wasn’t able to read my mind then?” I sat forward anxious for her answer.

  “Aye.” Her smile revealed her perfect, white teeth.

  I was delighted that she would trust me with a secret; with something that the Regent himself could not yet know. Excitement rumbled through my whole body.

  “Why is it that he mustn’t know?” I asked, unbuttoning my coat. The fireplace kept the room toasty warm.

  “I dinna wish tae sway any decision he may or may not make. His decisions affect a guid many Ravens. It isna my place tae move his mynd one way or the ither.”

  “I see. So, this concerns him, not me.” I felt a bit relieved, but had no satisfaction.

  “In the long run, it concerns ye all, but aye, fer now, just yer dear Emrys.”

  Could she see how relieved I was by my smile? Wait, wasn
’t there something else I wanted to ask her, besides her big secret?

  The secret she would feel compelled to share with me, if only Emrys could not pluck it out of my mind immediately after I heard it. Surely, that was quite a compliment.

  How awesome!

  I nodded my head, and said, “I see.”

  “Yes, you do.” She sounded British all of a sudden. I wondered what happened to the Scots accent, and tried, unsuccessfully, to hide my questioning frown.

  “Oh, if I concentrate, and speak verra slow, I can emulate the English. When I get verra excited, the control flies oot the window!” She laughed heartily. Her laugh was contagious, and I giggled with her.

  I felt like we had done this already. Déjà vu, all over again.

  Wasn’t there something else I wanted to ask her? Flaming Hell! What was it?

  I smiled stupidly after we stopped laughing, still trying to remember.

  “Ye do hae the gift, Elizabeth. It may take ye some time tae understand how tae use it wisely. But, ye will,” she said, nodding. She quickly added, “I’ve seen it.” She stood and came to me, prompting me to stand as well. She reached out and took both my hands. “Tis a great responsibility; the future isna fixed. It can be changed. Them that find the right path, they are the lucky ones. When we hae it in our power to show them one wee pairt tae aim them in the right direction, we must. But, tis a fine line atween our leading and our changing things we wish tae change. In time, ye’ll understand. Dinna fash yerself lassie. I see a bright future for yer guid family. Keep in mynd - tis darkest before the dawn.” She showed me to the door, kind as can be, smiling all the while.

  I buttoned up, thanked her with a smile, and left; no doubt looking much like I was both deaf and mute. As I started down the jagged steps, I heard the hoot, and, sure enough, the owl had come back. Glancing at it quickly, it appeared as white as the snow and had perched itself up on one of the tallest branches right next to the roof. From that vantage point, the owl could see into the chimney, if it chose to look. I wondered if it liked the warmth coming out of the chimney. I turned back in time to see Emrys pop out of the driver’s side and appear at the passenger door, ready to open it as I approached. I smiled at him.