It was like something out of a fairytale. A long winding path, made from trees that have been bent over to form an archway that spans the length of the road in front of us. Frith took us into it and we were enveloped in leafy darkness. The sun just barely poked enough light for the horse to see. I reached up and touched it and the leaves tickled my palms as I passed underneath. Where this leads, I don’t know, but I could stay here all day long. It was unlike anything I’d seen before.
“We’re here, lass. Get your hands down.” I looked up and that’s when I saw what he meant and pulled my hands back sharply. The ending of the archway was full of thorns and sharp wooden stakes that would have gashed my hands open like a knife through butter.
“Thanks for the warning, Finn,” I said. “Where is this path leading us? Or can I no longer speak?”
“You’re a feisty one aren’t you? No wonder you’re a maid. Probably can’t shut your crabbit mouth for two seconds.”
He probably thought insulting me would make me angry, but instead I laughed out loud and said, “I could keep myself quiet. I just need to be asked nicely, that’s all. And I am not bad tempered, I’m actually very pleasant.”
“I don’t plan to get to know the help. I have work to do. Go make yourself useful in the kitchens. I’m sure Iona would be happy to see you’re alive and well,” he said as he yanked the horse to a stop. “You can walk the rest of the way.”
What a jerk! I didn’t say a word in reply. I did as he said and got down from Frith, but not before thanking him for riding so fast. I turned from Finn O’Leary, and his nasty demeanor, and walked away like the respectful young lady I am. I looked away from him and into the unknown up ahead of me. The thorn bushes led the rest of the way in, but Frith carried his master away from me, probably to the stables. I had half a mind to follow just to see who exactly cared for the horses, but I had to get to Iona first. Establishing my residence here is priority number one.
I didn’t expect the walk to take so long and my feet began to kill me after only a few minutes. The shoes were horrible and despite the cold air around me I started to feel hot and sweaty in this dress. Being sweaty in the cold is a dangerous thing, so I sped up my walking despite the pain it caused me.
Before I knew it I reached the end and saw the second most amazing site since my arrival. The castle before me is no camp, it’s absolutely beautiful. I realized we’re so far up the mountain that the air is thinner and colder, but it makes sense. If I were hiding from my English enemy, this would be where I’d hide. Far away from where prying eyes would see me. I too would take my people somewhere safe, even if the landscape wasn’t safe. The castle in front of me was made of stone and looked like it could withstand a fight, but what did I know about architecture? My job here is to see if historians got it right or not. They make mistakes all the time and they actually have no solid proof of Sir Malcolm’s hideaway.
I was in no rush to get back home to North Carolina. Scotland is the most beautiful place I’d ever visited. Each time I come, I feel as if I am home.
I always referred to myself as a lost girl. I never belonged in my life. I always felt as if I was an old soul, compared to my friends and peers. I never liked the same things they did, and never did follow the fads that my generation acquired. I always stood back from the crowds and kept away from those people who made it their life’s purpose to take so many selfies that they all just began to look the same. Another thing I veered away from was the language of my so-called equals. You’d never catch me saying words like; bae, totes, or fleek. I was old school. I use proper English and respect my elders. And yes, books are my passion and I also like gardening. My grandma thought that I was born too late. She always said, “God just forgot to release you into the world is all. He kept you with him just a little longer.” She also said that one day I would fit in; but I thought otherwise. I surrounded myself with books and Jessa and that was it. With the exception of Trevor, I never really liked guys my age. They were always so immature. I was glad to have at least one guy I could find attractive at my university.
I never fit in with my family either. With my mother, and her mission to turn me into a proper young lady of the south, and my mission to do nothing of the sort, our relationship was strained from then on. We rarely spoke. Not that I had ill will toward her, but after our last argument, I chose to not call her. My father left us when he found a better calling, as he called it. Moving to Japan to be with his girlfriend he met there on business was his calling. His new children are his life now and I am but an afterthought. My mother fell apart after he left. I was thirteen and all I had was my grandma. She told me that life was full of uncertainties and marriage was one of them. I gave my mother time to grieve but she still hasn’t gotten it out of her system yet. She found focusing on me and getting me perfect, and to her liking, to be her distraction from the pain. For a while I went along with it, but after seventeen, I threw in the towel. I wouldn’t go to another debutante ball again. Now our arguments are different, but we still don’t talk much.
Being lost doesn’t mean that I will ever be found. It isn’t lost on me that part of the reason I love to time travel is to hopefully find where I belong. As I walked into the castle entrance, I knew it wasn’t here. Medieval Scotland isn’t the time period I am meant for. Call me a prude, but I just can’t get over the lack of indoor plumbing and bathing in the spring only. The castle was busy with people scurrying this way and that and it wasn’t too hard to track down someone to lead me into the kitchens. I could hear the women chattering away as no doubt they were roasting some huge pig. It was Iona’s specialty. I walked into the room and caught the eye of the beautiful cook whom I made such good friends with.
Three
“Oh my word! Mollie, you’ve come back to us!” Iona shouted from clear across the kitchen. The smell of roast pig hit my nose and my mouth watered instantly. Iona’s black curls had begun to come undone underneath her cap and she quickly tucked them in before hugging me tightly. “We thought you for dead, lass. Where have you been?”
I began to tell her my fake story about catching ill as she readied me a plate with fresh bread and cheese. She laid it in front of me and I foolishly looked around for a knife before I remembered there are no utensils in this time. I picked up the bread and ate slowly, still telling her my tale. Iona bought it apparently because she hugged me closer saying a quiet prayer thanking God for my safe homecoming.
“I was hoping to find work here once more,” I said, taking a break between bites. “Is my job still mine, then?”
Her smile lit up her face as she said, “Your duty as scullery maid is no more. Gwen has taken that job in your absence. But I do need another pantry keeper to help me keep the pantry stocked. I also need you to help me serve the feast that’s about to begin. So go see Marsen and get some proper kitchen attire on before those buffoons start staring at those.” She pointed to my chest. I turned red all over and the blush didn’t go away even as Marsen dressed me in the same dress and cap as Iona. I felt bland and perfectly content in these clothes but awful that when I got back home, Jessa’s dress would be lost forever.
My time here always varied. I never knew when I would disappear from this time and go back home. When I did, I literally disappeared as if I was taken away by magic. Well, science can be a sort of magic, I suppose. I knew when my time was almost up when I began to feel a tugging at my soul. Jessa said that sounded weird but there was no other way to describe the feeling. She also said that my eyes would flutter crazily as my physical body lay in front of her. She knew that it was almost time for me to come back, so she would sing to me. I could always hear her singing so I knew it was time. I found a spot out of the way, hidden from sight, to travel away from this time. I hated scaring people or causing alarm. The last thing I needed was to be accused of witchcraft upon my return and hanged or even worse, burnt alive.
The first
time I traveled, Jessa freaked out that my physical body stayed behind and not my whole self. I always found it hard to believe myself that we each had a spirit. This spirit side was what traveled through the book. Unless I took off my bracelet. Doing that took your physical body into time wholly, which made things much more dangerous. You could get lost forever in time.
I always kept it hidden well and never let anyone see it. It wasn’t easy to hide when you worked in the kitchens, like I was currently doing. In times like this, I slid it as far up my arm as it would go. I hurriedly prepared the large platter of some sort of meat Iona made and handed it to a young girl whose name I had yet to learn. I grabbed my pitcher of ale, which was my job for the night.
“Keep ‘em fed and full of drink, Mollie,” Iona had told me just before we headed out. “You will recognize some of the faces, but not all. So stay close.” I nodded and did as she said. We broke through the large doors and into a great hall. The light spilled forth from the windows and hit the banners that hung proudly from the ceiling. They portrayed the Walsh clan’s colors in bold display. I knew much about this clan, how they came from Ireland originally but made their roots here in Scotland. Malcolm was born and bred here and he would end up fighting and dying for his home. Looking around I saw faces that I did indeed recognize. Sir Malcolm always traveled with four men; Declan Wallace, Torren MacAllister, Angus MacAllister, and Connell Kennedy. They were his band of misfits but they were true to his cause and to the cause of saving Scotland. I never once thought anything less of these men, even though I knew their futures. I knew that not too long after the death of Sir Malcolm, The Act of Union between Scotland and England would be signed causing the Scottish parliament to dissolve. They fought for what they thought was a winning battle. Who was I to deny them of that spirit?
Right away I saw Sir Malcolm’s wife, Ainsley, sitting at the head table, facing her loyal followers. She smiled beautifully at the men as they each kissed her hand before they too sat to feast. I went to work pouring drink for everyone who had a goblet. The smell of the ale hit me like a brick. It smelled awful. But these drinkers didn’t turn it away. Instead they drank it up and asked for more before I could fill their neighbor’s glass. I had to hurry to the kitchen for another refill before the crowd got too feisty for more. I grabbed two pitchers this time, trying to be prepared. As I walked out the doors I was back to pouring. I looked back up to the head table, as that was my destination. The lady of the castle got the last glass, as was customary. I stepped up onto the stairs that held her massive wood table.
“Ah, a familiar face,” she said as she smiled at me. Ainsley was always nicer than any noble woman I had encountered here. She was once a maid herself before Malcolm married her. He promised himself to her when they were just children and as he told me once, she was to be his bride no matter what. Their story was romantic. He fell in love with her when they were just children.
Ainsley had no children with Malcolm, sadly. Not for lack of trying. She suffered miscarriages and something much worse. Their last child lost at the small age of six months. These times were harsh, which once again reminded me why this wasn’t the time for me. Ainsley always had an air of mystery about her. It was told to me by several people that she was special and her heritage had handed her the gift of sight, which in this time period meant she was a seer. In my time period, it meant she may be psychic or faking it; who knows. I didn’t really read into it all, I just smiled and nodded.
I bowed to her and replied, “Happy to be back, Milady. Ale?”
She nodded as I poured her the last contents I had in my pitcher. The men behind her had their goblets filled by Iona. “It seems someone forgot to fill my glass,” said a man beside Ainsley. His voice was rough around the edges and he sounded upset. I hadn’t noticed him before now. Was he there when I filled Ainsley’s goblet? If I messed up and she wasn’t served last, I could be in trouble with Iona. I didn’t understand their ways, but I wouldn’t argue at all about the customs they adhered to. This was their house, not mine.
“Oh hush now, you got yours,” Iona spoke to the man. I backed up and smiled once more to Ainsley and tried not to be shaken. Why he would try to get me in trouble or to spook me, I wasn’t sure. Before I stepped down to the floor, I took a glance at him. I had never seen him with this group before. His long blond hair went almost past his shoulders and didn’t fit in much with the other men in the room. His hair was wavy and had a braid that ran through the side of it. His blue eyes and pale skin made him look Nordic, but that voice was very Scottish.
He smiled at Iona and then looked at me with a fierce gaze. He wasn’t friendly, that much I knew. I had to find out more about him before I left here. I hurried to the kitchens to prepare for the rest of the feast and tried to keep up with the other girls. Once the dinner was served, Iona had us all eat at a small table in the kitchens.
“Good work tonight, lassies. Lady Ainsley was very pleased with us all. Which reminds me, Mollie, you’ll be sleeping here, in the kitchen for the night. Sure that would do you fine. Stay by the fire to stay warm.”
I nodded and watched as all the staff dispersed to either clean up or go to their other tasks. I sat down by the fire, surrounded by blankets and watched them like the busy bees they were. I heard a faint song from a faraway distance and wondered if Lady Ainsley had hired a songstress for the evening. When I felt the tug, I knew I was mistaken. Hurrying to a closet, I waited to be pulled back to my time.
****
“You made it back!” Jessa said, her mouth stained with chocolate. “Here.” She handed me a glass of orange juice and took the book from my hands. I drank and let the Vitamin C do its job in restoring my energy. I watched as she cleaned up around us and prepared the room to shut down for the evening. I drained the glass and stood up on wobbly feet. I was back in the blue gown, which threw me for a loop. I thought it would be lost forever.
“What’s wrong?” Jessa asked as I hesitated.
“I changed my clothes… and I thought I gave a girl this dress.”
Jessa patted me and led me out of the door, shutting the light off behind me.
“This happens every time, remember? You get a little too caught up inside and come out a bit… confused. You’re home and your name is not Mollie, it’s—”
“Savannah. Yes, it’s coming back now. I’m home.” Even though I didn’t feel like I was really where I belonged, my soul caught up with my body. I was where I needed to be. Home was a word I would never fully come to terms with. Perhaps the mystery of where my dress was, or disappeared to, would find its way to me somehow. But that was the way time travel worked; we didn’t always have all the answers.
“You need to get home and rest a little, Savannah. This travel drained you more than the last. Did you find Malcolm, though?”
I shook my head. Defeated.
Four
I woke feeling renewed and ready for class. But after my three-class load and my shift at work, I lost all that energy. I didn’t want to drive to see my mother, but it was the fifteenth and I promised to go see her. This was a day we usually spent together; if you could call it that. Even if we were fighting, or rather, not speaking currently, I had to see her. The drive home took two hours and it gave me time to think about Malcolm and who the newcomer might have been. Once I pulled into her long cobblestone drive, I had to shut off my brain and prepare myself for the mental torture that was my mother. I parked the car and grabbed my notebook, jotting down my thoughts on Malcolm. I assessed that the newcomer was either Ainsley’s brother, lover, or protector. As for Malcolm’s whereabouts, I had no clue.
Tuck, my mom’s large black lab ambled up to my car, tail wagging with glee. Getting out I pulled him into a hug. His fur was soft and smelled freshly bathed. She was keeping busy, which was a good sign that she was doing well today.
“Oh, you did come after all. I thought you’d f
orgotten when I didn’t hear from you all day long. When the sun set, I gave up all hope.” She stood by the porch and watched as Tuck and I walked to the house. I ignored her tone and said, “Hello, Mother. It’s the fifteenth, of course I would come. Don’t I always?”
She nodded and walked inside the house; not even holding the door for me. I was used to this sort of behavior from her. Especially on this day. It was the worst day.
“Oh, look who it is!” called Laurell, my mom’s therapist, from the living room. “Glad to see you. We thought you would forget. It’s been an hour, Savannah. You know I’m on your mom’s time here and her money is being wasted if you’re not here to talk with us.”
I hated being chastised for being late. I was in college and I had a job, you’d think they’d give me some slack. Not everyone can drop everything to drive two hours each month.
“I have three classes on Thursday and I work a shift at the library. I’ve told you both this numerous times,” I said, full of sass. Laurell scribbled in her notebook and nodded. “I do remember now. It’s been awhile since the fifteenth landed on a Thursday. Forgive me?”
I nodded. “So what did I miss?”
“A lot,” snapped my mom. “We were forced to talk about me for an hour.” She looked me over and shook her head. “I can see that you haven’t been exercising at all. You’re back to the weight gain then?”
Biting my tongue, I fought hard to not lash out or defend myself. I had to let what she said roll off. That was harder some days than others. I didn’t gain any weight. I was maintaining, if anything. But telling her that would not change her behavior.
The Archivist (The Librarian Chronicles Book 2) Page 3