“Aye, lass,” he said as their gazes lingered. “We’ll fight together until the end.”
“A good ending,” Christina declared. “One you won’t be facing alone because I’ll be damned if we’re not all there helping you.”
Everyone agreed, and they meant it. They had all come too far not to stick together now.
Ready to seek shelter and food, they headed into the woods under Aðísla’s direction. It seemed she sensed a more discreet location where they could make camp for the night and perhaps wash off the blood of battle.
Though they couldn’t be entirely sure where they were, Adlin felt confident it was close to where they should be. That meant it was a little over two months after the sea battle and they now stood in Northern England. On that note, he remained hopeful Grant might already be here aiding Robert the Bruce.
As it happened, they settled for the evening under a massive slab of rock which Jessie felt would help protect them from the warlock. Not only that but it better insulated them against the damp chill of autumn. There was a small pond nearby that suited their needs, and within a few hours, they were clean, roasting game and sitting around a fire. Though they had no change of clothes, they used a wee bit of magic to clean their current clothing well enough.
Aðísla had volunteered to keep first watch and was somewhere out in the darkness.
“You know what I keep wondering,” Milly remarked as her eyes met Jessie’s. “How come the warlocks have a Scottish accent? I get why the one with a piece of Bryce would but not the others.”
Jessie shook her head. “I’m afraid I have no explanation for that and always found it strange considering my grandfather created the curse and he was so opposed to Scotland.” She frowned. “Or should I say angry at all things Scottish.”
When she clenched her hands together on her lap, Bryce knew she was thinking about her little notebook. It was officially gone. Left behind on Angus’ ship.
“’Tis okay,” he said into her mind as he rested his hand over hers. “Though you might not have the book now, you possess strong dragon magic as well as Ma’s magic.” He squeezed her hand. “Not to mention me. All of us for that matter. A family unlike any other who will always stand by your side and fight for all they’re worth.”
A grateful glint lit her eyes as she nodded.
“Your grandfather was opposed to Scotland because of your grandmother’s death, aye?” Adlin murmured, his eyes on Jessie as he drew them back into the original conversation. “And she died giving birth to your mother?”
“Yes.” She shook her head. “After that Grandfather hated all things Scottish presumably because it reminded him of the woman he lost. Or so my mother surmised.” Her eyes narrowed. “I’ve always thought it went deeper though. That there was a bigger picture.”
Adlin pondered that. “The enormity of what he did certainly implies such.”
Jessie nodded.
“’Tis your mother’s side you inherit your Broun blood from aye?” Adlin said.
“Yes.” She seemed surprised. “How did you know that?”
“I might seem off my game lately with certain things, but my magic has indeed grown stronger since I came together with Milly.” He squeezed Milly’s hand, love blazing in his eyes as he looked at her before focusing on Jessie again. “I can sense your mother’s Broun blood in you as I can sense what must be your father’s blood.” His eyes narrowed. “A bloodline I couldnae sense before you and Bryce came together. ‘Twas well masked and even still verra hard to see.”
“That must be because of the warlock,” Jessie replied.
“Aye, mayhap in part to be sure.”
“In part?”
He nodded as he kept giving it some thought. “I think I know how you might be able to get more answers about your grandfather’s anger toward Scotland.”
Jessie cocked her head. “How?”
“Well, I’ve been observing your connection to the spirit realm and ‘tis far stronger than mine or even Grant’s,” he replied. “Where we can see ghosts more clearly and communicate with them, I think your magic attracts them.” His voice softened. “I think, in a way, like you do with the warlocks, you can control them...which means you can summon them.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “You can’t mean for me to summon my grandfather.” She shook her head. “Because I absolutely will not.”
“Not your grandfather,” he said gently. “I would never ask that of you, lass.” He looked at her in question. “But mayhap your grandmother. She who is at the root of all this.”
Chapter Fifteen
12 October 1322
Northallerton, England
JESSIE WASN’T SURE what to make of Adlin’s suggestion. She had never purposefully summoned a spirit before and wasn’t sure she wanted to now. Yet she understood the logic behind it. Perhaps even the necessity.
“What if my grandfather shows up?” she whispered aloud without meaning to. She frowned, embarrassed that she was still so terrified of the man. That he still had that kind of power over her.
“We will all be right here with you.” Adlin’s eyes never left hers. “And though I’m not as strong as you in that realm, I can use my magic there and will protect you, lass.”
“As will I,” came a soft voice before Grant appeared out of the night. He nodded hello to everyone before he sat next to her and met her eyes. “We willnae leave your side lass. Not for a moment.”
“It’s good to see you again, Grant,” she whispered, truly grateful he had arrived.
“Aye, you too, lass.” His eyes swept over everyone as a small smile came to his lips. “All of you.”
“How fares good King Robert the Bruce then?” Adlin asked, evidently already having been in touch with Grant telepathically.
“In position,” Grant replied. “Though it’s taken some subliminal nudging here and there to make sure his battle plans move in the right direction.”
“Aye, then.” Adlin nodded. “’Tis important things go as they should.”
“I was given something that belongs to you, lass,” Grant murmured as he pulled out none other than her little book. “Laird Angus MacDonald said ‘twas yours and you should have it back.”
Jessie smiled, her eyes flickering to Bryce as she nodded. Bryce returned her smile and said, “He’s a good man. ‘Twas kind of him to see it returned.”
“Aye,” Grant said. “He told Robert all about your battle with the English and how Bryce saved his life.” He winked at Bryce. “I would say that’s why you all got to enjoy that particular part of history. ‘Twould have been no good if the MacDonald chieftain had died.” His eyes roamed over those who had traveled on the first leg of the journey. “Adlin caught me up on what happened in Pentland Firth. ‘Twas remarkable and I’m verra proud of you.”
“It was definitely something,” Jessie murmured as she offered Bryce a small smile. “And Bryce didn’t just save Angus once in the battle against the English but twice.”
Bryce grinned and shrugged. “He was a prime target to be sure.”
“As to the book,” Grant said, redirecting their attention. “Might you use it to help summon your grandmother, Jessie?”
A shiver of unfounded apprehension rippled through her. “I’m not sure. Maybe. I’ve seen her picture, so I know what she looks like.”
She knew full well the book wouldn’t attract her grandfather in the spirit realm because she’d been using it this whole time. So maybe this was the best possible way to go about things.
Grant nodded and met her eyes as if he followed those thoughts. “I think if we can speak with your grandmother than we can better understand your grandfather’s motives, aye? And that might make all the difference when fighting this last warlock.”
She nodded in agreement. He was right.
When her eyes went to Bryce again, he nodded as well and said, “I’ll stay by your side, lass. I willnae let anything happen to you.”
While his intentions were sweet
and certainly noble, she knew full well that even he couldn’t stop what might come at her. The spirit realm wasn’t exactly notable for its stability. Yet she knew she had to do this. She was the only one who could, so she should. Because as Grant and Adlin said, she might very well learn information that would help them destroy the warlock. And that would mean saving Scotland once and for all.
“I need something to write with,” she began but trailed off when Grant handed her what she needed.
“Thank you,” she murmured as she opened to a blank page. She didn’t blame everyone for watching her so closely. After all, she was about to do what was behind so much of this. Behind their wild adventures.
Jessie glanced at Bryce one more time, glad to have him there, before she closed her eyes, visualized her grandmother, and started sketching. After a few moments, she opened her eyes, stared at the fire and began chanting. She used the flames to enhance her gift as she accessed the spiritual realm. At first, nothing happened, but soon enough she felt the shift as did everyone else based on their startled expressions.
“We exist in both realms now,” she whispered as she added more details to the picture. The curve of her grandmother’s cheek. The tilt of her nose. The plushness of her lips. Then, last but not least, her eyes.
It was that, giving her the ability to see that completed the summoning because moments later, her grandmother appeared by the fire. Though transparent, her features were very clear. Especially her eyes as they locked on Jessie and she whispered, “You have his looks, child.”
Nobody said a word as Jessie stood and faced a woman she had never met. “Thank you for coming, Grandmother.”
“Thank you for finally reaching out, Jessie,” she replied softly, tears in her eyes. “I’ve been waiting a verra long time.”
Though her brogue wasn’t as thick as Bryce’s, it was certainly there.
“What do you mean you’ve been waiting for me to reach out?” Jessie asked. “Why not just reach out to me like other spirits have?”
“I couldnae, lass.” Anger flared in her eyes. “Not with that bloody bastard’s curse hanging over me.” She shook her head. “He made it impossible.”
“You mean my grandfather,” she murmured, not all that surprised that he might have blocked anyone who cared from reaching out to her.
“Och, no, never your grandfather.” She shook her head, a heavy frown on her face. “The bastard who killed him.”
Jessie narrowed her eyes as a strange sensation rolled over her. “What do you mean? He died in a fire when I was ten.”
“No,” her grandmother whispered and stepped closer. “He didnae, Jessie and I’ve been eager to tell you that for years.”
She was grateful when Bryce stood as well, and his hand slipped into hers in support.
“Tell me what, Grandmother?” she managed to say, her mind already spinning not just in confusion but a host of other directions. She had an overwhelming feeling she was about to receive life-changing information.
It turns out she did.
“The truth,” her grandmother replied softly. It was clear she wished to touch Jessie but was unable. “A year or so before I gave birth to your mother, I met two men. Best friends. Both were tall and handsome, and we all became friends.” An unmistakable sparkle lit her eyes. “But only one of them ever caught my attention. And only one ever held my heart. Your grandfather.” Her chin notched. “Your real grandfather.”
Jessie barely breathed as she continued.
“He was from Scotland though he had gypsy blood like you, so he possessed mystical gifts indeed. It was those gifts that made him a wizard. Yet he was more than that...” Her eyes stayed with Jessie’s. “He also possessed dragon blood.”
Jessie offered a jerky nod as the pieces began to fall into place.
“It was their mutual possession of magic that made him and the other such close friends,” she continued, muttering something about never mentioning his cursed name aloud. “But I’m afraid it was their mutual love for me that drove a wedge between them.”
Her grandmother released a shaky sigh. “I tried...” She shook her head. “Both your grandfather and I tried to make it easier for his friend, but nothing we said or did made a difference. And not loving one another simply wasn’t an option.” Wariness lit her eyes. “As it turned out, his friend was a certain sort of man with what soon proved to be a very dark soul.” She clenched her jaw. “When he learned I was pregnant, any last shred of goodness in him was wiped away entirely.”
Jessie tried to be strong on her own but ended up leaning against Bryce for support. Honestly, she was somewhat surprised her legs still held her up given she had a pretty good idea what was coming.
“Where your grandfather was most certainly strong in magic, his best friend was more so,” she went on. “And that’s no small thing considering your grandfather was half dragon.”
As her grandmother spoke, she felt not only Bryce but his kin and her friends within her mind offering support. Not in a way that cluttered her thoughts but in a fashion that kept her level. Grant and Adlin respectfully presented questions she could ask if she were so inclined.
“So he was half dragon,” she whispered, swallowing hard. “So he shifted?”
She felt both Bryce and Sven’s alertness at that particular question.
“He was dragon, and he did shift.” A small smile ghosted her grandmother’s face. “And what a sight he was.”
“So was Mama a dragon too?” she murmured. “As far as I knew she didn’t possess any magic whatsoever.”
Her grandmother gave her an odd look, almost as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t. Instead, she continued on about her real grandfather.
“Your grandfather’s best friend ended up being the worst kind of coward.” Her eyes narrowed as she seemed to peer into the past. “Corrupt with jealousy, he didn’t end up fighting your grandfather like a man but spent an evening making him believe that he had come to his senses. That their friendship was too important to lose over a woman.”
She hesitated a moment, her eyes welling before she continued. “I told your grandfather not to trust him, but he was too good a man. Too trusting in the end when it came to those he loved.”
Jessie couldn’t fight her own emotions as she listened to her grandmother go on.
“So as I said, his friend was a coward and went about things in a very devious way that night. In a way that kept him from having to face your grandfather’s full wrath.” Her brows drew together in renewed anger. “From what I gathered in the last few moments of mental connection I had with my love, his friend literally stabbed him in the back. Angered and confused by the unexpected attack, he immediately embraced his dragon. When he did, his friend used those brief few moments to destroy him.”
Her eyes dropped to Jessie’s notebook as she continued. “With that.” Pain flickered in her gaze. “And wherever he sent him in the afterlife or somewhere in between, he’s been lost to me since. Dead in a way that has no closure.”
“I’m so sorry,” Jessie whispered. When she started to set the book down, her grandmother shook her head. “No, lass. Hold onto that until you’re freed from this curse. Until all of you are.” Determination notched her chin again. “Use that to end this and perhaps free your grandfather.”
Jessie nodded and clamped her hands around it tighter though she wanted to toss it into the fire.
“After your grandfather vanished everything changed,” her grandmother continued softly. “Insane, determined that I might become his after all, his friend never left my side. But I would never become his.” She shook her head again, more fiercely this time. “I could never love another.” Her expression turned to one of both relief that she was free of him and perhaps melancholy that she had to leave her child behind. “In the end, as Fate would have it, I was taken away from him anyway.”
Her eyes grew haunted as she stepped a bit closer to Jessie. “After that, I was blocked from reaching out to you or
your mother. Both of you were horribly repressed.” Pain flickered in her eyes. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am for the life you led. For the things he did to you both. The abuse.”
Then pride lit her grandmother’s eyes. “But you were strong, Jessie. So very strong.” She nodded. “And he hated you for it.” Her eyes grew angry again. “He was a madman with a misconstrued way of looking at things. He hated your mother for killing me in childbirth and hated your grandfather for impregnating me, to begin with. And as all that hate grew, it transformed. He began seeking a way to change everything.” She gave Jessie a telling look. “Just maybe he could stop your grandfather from existing altogether.”
“Oh, God,” Jessie whispered, as she realized where this was going.
“Aye,” her grandmother murmured. “In all his hate and dementia, he decided the best way to get rid of the Scotsman was to get rid of the country that birthed him.” She shook her head. “I don’t think it ever occurred to the fool that Scotland being annexed by England might not necessarily do away with your grandfather’s bloodline. No, he had but one goal in mind.”
“To curse Scotland,” she whispered.
“Aye,” her grandmother responded. “A curse so profound and intricate that it could only unravel upon his death. That way his very essence could be part of it.” Her brows swept up. “A curse created not just with his magic but even elements of your grandfather’s. Parts he somehow captured in that book to give the curse even more strength.”
Well, that would certainly explain the remarkable power the curse had. Power enough to often leave wizards the likes of Grant and Adlin in the dark. The dragon magic alone would have masked quite a bit from them as neither were dragon.
“That must be why the warlocks have a Scottish accent,” she whispered, as a tear fell. “Because of my grandfather’s magic.”
What an awful thing to have had his magic used for evil after his death.
The MacLomain Series: A New Beginning Boxed Set (Books 1-4) Page 100