Breath of Yesterday (The Curse Series) (26 page)

“Tomas!” she screamed at the man with the axe. One of the warriors grabbed her arm. “Tom—”

The blow to her head made her stumble, and she broke away in Payton’s direction. He was struggling to tell reality and delusion apart.

The half-dressed warrior noticed the woman and went berserk.

“Isobel!” he yelled, knocking the shield from Kenzie’s hand and bringing his axe down on the boy in a blind rage.

Payton heard his heartbeat and felt the blood rush through his body. He smelled the ozone of a lightning flash that was setting the sky ablaze. He saw the firm resolve in the woman’s eyes as she climbed the battlements, pressing her trembling hands against her mouth, sobbing. She would rather throw herself to her death than submit to those men—Payton was sure of it. She leaned against the wind, eyes locked with those of the man she had called Tomas. But she had no time to issue a warning cry before one of Cathal’s men plunged a dagger into Tomas’s back. He stumbled forward and saw the blood slowly spread on his shirt.

Payton was too far away to come to Kenzie’s rescue when Tomas Cameron raised his axe in a final move. He brought it down on young Kenzie without ever taking his eyes off Isobel, his wife.

To Payton, she seemed like an angel, climbing the battlements and shining bright against the dark night sky.

“Sam!” he roared with a sudden flash of recognition. Had he really just seen her? Payton wasn’t sure. He only knew one thing: S
h
e was innocent! She couldn’t die!

Payton saw her sway. She staggered backward. He was paralyzed, trying to move to come to her aid, but his body wouldn’t respond. He reached her too late, clutching desperately at her falling body. At the very last second, he grabbed her arm. Her scream pierced the very core of his being, and he saw the terror in her wide-open eyes—the same pair of eyes that had looked at him with such love and lust only a few hours ago. With every breath that he took, he could feel her fingers slowly slipping from his hands. He realized that he didn’t have the strength to pull her back over the battlements. Little by little, she slipped closer to the abyss. From his throat rose a panicked scream as the woman lost her grip and fell to her death.

He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see her body hit the sharp rocks below, and instead he let himself slide back down on the floor. He was shaking. He didn’t need to turn to know that both Kenzie and Tomas had not made it through this cursed night.

Something soft was touching his cheek. A strip of white linen against his skin, it had a caressing, comforting feel, like the loving touch of a mother. Carefully he released the piece of fabric from the edge of the battlement. Isobel’s nightgown was embroidered with soft, delicate stars.

Without feeling anything inside, he clawed his way back to the two slain men whose glassy eyes were turned up to the sky. He closed Tomas’s eyes with the flat of his hand, then pried open the man’s hand and gently laid the strip of fabric across his palm. Then he crawled over to Kenzie and lifted the boy into his arms. Before climbing down the stairs, he looked around the top of the tower one last time. He, too, had died up here tonight. When he climbed down the stairwell, he had become a stranger to himself. He turned his back on this battle, the men, and revenge.

One single thought kept him going:
I need you, Sam! Save me! Forgive me, please, and save me!

C
HAPTER
34

Cemetery by Auld a´chruinn, Present-Day Fall

I
need you, Sam!” Payton gasped, weakly wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth. His gaze wandered over to the bare, leafless branches of the trees around him. They looked like skeletons, holding their gnarly branches out toward him. The once-colorful leaves of red and yellow and ochre were now nothing more than a carpet of black, dead leaves, burying all life beneath them.

His time was up. Every breath he took cost him energy and strength and sent shivers of excruciating pain through his aching body.

He wanted to die. He didn’t want to bear this pain any longer. Only the thought of Sam kept him alive. If he could only tell her one last time how much he loved her, that her love was worth every bit of the pain he was being made to suffer, then he could close his eyes and submit his mortal soul to fate—and perhaps at long last find peace.

Peace.
What a pretty word. Slowly, it spread inside him. It helped him release the memory of Sam he’d been clinging to and forced itself into his blood, finally flooding his brain.

Peace.
He breathed out, watching the last brightly colored autumn leaf float down and come to a final rest on his chest.

Peace.
Endlessly tired, he closed his eyes.

C
HAPTER
35

T
ime and space lost all meaning. There was only this guilt that weighed heavily on me, and it alone justified my pathetic existence. Absolutely nothing had turned out the way Payton or I had expected. All my efforts of
not
meddling with the past had caused the opposite: Everything happened in exactly the same way Payton told me in his original story.

I had brought disaster upon Payton and his family. I alone had caused the death of Ross, the shepherd. I had helped Nathaira in making Cathal see the threat coming from within his own ranks. And with my letter to Payton, I’d delivered Kyle to Nathaira’s blade. All of this culminated in the curse that I would now bear witness to, because the next streak of lightning flashed across the sky and bathed the Highlands before me in a bright light.

Castle Coulin stood majestically in the valley below me, and I saw the flames rising up from the tower and into the sky. The straw-thatched roof only fed the blaze, and the wind carried it on and on.

I struggled to my feet, grabbing the horse’s reins and desperately holding on to them.

What had I done?

Frozen in place, I noticed a man on horseback leaving the castle at a fast gallop. Payton! I immediately recognized him, despite only a dim light coming from the fire. He rode off without turning back, his plaid blowing in the wind behind him as he drove his horse faster and faster across the plains.

Faster and faster away from me.

And then, with all my senses on overload, there was only this bright, blinding light that seemed to come from the woman standing atop the hill in front of me, her hands raised high into the night sky.

A final flash of lightning crashed down; then the wind died down, and the clouds disappeared as fast as they had gathered earlier.

Motionless, the old woman stood atop the mountain peak and looked, like me, down at the castle. It was Vanora, the woman I had seen in my visions. She was the witch of Fair Isle who was writing history this very night.

Two shapes on horseback galloped toward her: Cathal and Nathaira. Vanora stood her ground even as they came closer. She actually turned away from the approaching danger and appeared to be scanning the dark hills behind her.

Our eyes met as if there were neither darkness nor distance between us. There was nothing but her and me. She had been waiting for me. I saw that from the expression of hope and inner peace on her face, and once again she spoke to me without moving her lips.

“
Face your destiny. Remember the love you carry deep in your heart. Fear not. The blood will protect you. You are without guilt, yet you are guilty. Complete the circle.”
I heard her voice inside my head.

Frozen in horror, I watched Vanora open her arms without fear and welcome her daughter’s dagger as it pierced her heart.

The high-pitched cry of agony that escaped my throat was carried away by the wind and went unheard.

No! Vanora couldn’t die—not now! I needed her blood to save Payton! But the triumphant expression on Nathaira’s and Cathal’s faces left no doubt that Vanora was dead. With no signs of regret, they left the old woman’s body where it was. And with fists raised high, they returned to what was left of Castle Coulin and its warriors.

I sank to my knees, unable to stand any longer. I had fought with all that I had. I had tried to do everything right—and still I had failed.

I stared into the night to the spot where I had seen Payton only moments ago. He was gone. The curse had been spoken, and it had damned him to a life without feeling. My letter that could have saved him was gone with the wind. My promise to save him was worthless. All because I had come too late. Vanora was dead. I had failed!

I wept, burying my face in my hands and submitting to the convulsions that almost suffocated me.

Only when strong arms lifted me up and pressed me hard against a warm chest did I find a way back to myself. The Gaelic endearments that Payton whispered into my ear; his quick, soothing pecks on my neck; and his strong, tender hands that massaged away my pain—it all created only one reaction on my part.

I looked into his eyes and saw the same feelings of worry, guilt, and despair that I was experiencing myself. I knew what he had done. I knew that he’d had a hand in murdering my ancestors, because he would confess to it so many years later.

But none of this mattered now that he was about to fess up to his murderous crimes. We had betrayed each other by doing a terrible wrong, and in the process we had damned our mortal souls to hell.

Regardless, only he could comfort me now. I put my finger on his lips to prevent him from talking. I didn’t know what he had done or how he had found me. The only thing that mattered was to be near him. And with the only thing we were left with—our mutual love—we granted each other forgiveness. I got lost in his eyes when I raised my lips to his, and with a long kiss, we begged for mercy.

Payton didn’t ask why I was here or demand to know what had happened. He didn’t even ask how much I was to blame for the events of this fateful night. I didn’t say a word. I couldn’t find the courage to own up to everything.

An eternity seemed to have passed when Payton finally backed away from me.

“What is it?” I asked. He was rubbing his arm as if he’d been injured.

“My arm hurts. I think I burned myself,” he said, pushing up his sleeve to take a closer look.

There was nothing there. But I quickly realized what was going on and was shocked at the speed with which the curse was gaining steam.

Payton glared at me.

“You know what is going on here, don’t you. Is it what you predicted? Something is happening to me—I can feel it.”

How I would have loved to tell him that he was wrong. How I would have loved to break the tension with one of Kim’s flippant one-liners. But in this life I was no longer an eighteen-year-old high school student quoting her best friend. I couldn’t even remember what it was like to fear nothing more than getting a D minus in history class. I deserved an F for this stunning feat I had produced here. For sure!

Instead, I told Payton, “It’s a curse. Everyone who went to the Camerons tonight has been cursed.”

Payton shook his head.

“We were cursed before we set out today. Hatred and battle have guided our lives. Blood feuds have been our daily bread. No curse could be worse than that.”

I saw that he meant it. I could tell how much he hated himself, and I didn’t know how to help him.

“You told me you would save me. Is that true?” he asked quietly, brushing my hair behind my ear.

This tender gesture made my eyes well up.

“Yes, Payton, my beloved. I swear to you that our love will break this curse, but not today. I don’t belong here—I should never have come.”

Guilt and shame washed over me, but Payton lifted my chin and kissed my trembling lips.

“Can you tell me what is going to happen? What kind of a curse?” he asked.

I closed my eyes and repeated the very words he had once said to me: “The worst kind. Each and every one of you is now cursed to living a life without feeling—without love, warmth, anger, or pain. Only emptiness. And you will suffer for all eternity because you are never going to die.”

Payton didn’t say anything for a long time. Then he pulled me close and kissed me with all the love and tenderness he was able to muster. I could tell he was trying to memorize this feeling, to commit it to memory so he could draw from it later.

“Is that why you’re going to leave me?” he asked after a while. “Because I don’t feel anymore?”

“I never wanted to leave you, but I really thought I could save your life.” My voice broke, and I cursed myself for being so weak, for being incapable of doing anything right. “But I can’t because I’m too late. Vanora is dead! Her blood would have saved you.”

“The blood of the witch?” he asked.

We looked at the hilltop where Vanora had spoken her curse. Her white gown was still visible even in this darkness. Payton pulled me to my feet.

“What are you doing?” I asked as he helped me up on his horse and got up behind me. He had tied Kyle’s horse to his with a long rope.

“I want to live, Sam. I want to live right by your side. Which is why I am helping you.”

“You don’t understand. She’s dead—her blood has been spilled!” I called out as he brought us closer and closer to the hilltop.

“Listen, Sam. You just told me what’s lying ahead. It all sounds like an awful fate if you ask me. So if the witch who did this to me can also save my life, then I have to give it a try! Don’t you understand that I never want to stop loving you? That I’m afraid of not having feelings ever again? And that maybe I find it easier to bear if I know there is hope?”

I understood him well. I admired him for how calmly he accepted his fate, and I couldn’t blame him for wanting to try. Who was I to take this hope away from him without giving it my best shot.

“All right, then, let’s go!” I yelled, holding on tight so he could spur on the horse. It didn’t take us long to reach the hilltop.

The old woman’s body lay on the barren rock that had become her deathbed. Her face was peaceful and pale. Her wide-open eyes looked up at the stars, and her mouth was frozen in a smile. Payton steadied his horse, got off, and helped me down without saying a word. Slowly, and full of respect, we walked over to her.

Together we knelt by her side, not knowing what to do next.

I could barely take my eyes off the dagger protruding from Vanora’s chest. A dark red stain had spread from the dagger and across her gown. The embroidered flowers on the fabric were soaked in blood, but they were beautiful. It almost seemed as if the white thread had been waiting to be dipped in color.

My eyes followed the red thread that was no longer a thread but a stream of blood.

The handle of Nathaira’s dagger was wrapped in black leather, and it disturbed the perfection of the red-and-white pattern on Vanora’s chest in a brutal, almost perverse way—as if envious of its beauty.

I suddenly felt very hot, and the world around me started spinning. I wiped the sweat from my forehead before touching the knife, trembling. The black leather was cold and cruel to the touch as I closed my fist around the handle and slowly, inch by inch, started pulling. From very far away I saw fresh blood gushing from the wound, saw how the red flowers unfolded and revealed their full beauty. When I finally held the entire knife in my hand, it was as though the sun itself had offered the flower her radiance, as if the color red had never been so perfect before. Bloodred.

The dagger dropped to the ground as the world around me spun and darkness finally swallowed me.

Birds were chirping when I woke up. My head was resting against Payton’s chest, and his breath tickled my cheek. Slowly, painfully, I opened my eyes. I squinted against the bright light coming from the sun high up in the sky.

Only now did I notice that we were on his horse. My limbs felt heavy, and my whole body ached as though I had been run over by a bus. Multiple times!

“Where are we?” I croaked.

“I’m taking you to the cottage you told me about. The cottage by Loch Duich,” he explained.

“The cottage?” I found it hard to follow. It would easily take two days to get to the stone cottage by Loch Duich. How long had I been out? And what had happened with Vanora?

Before I could ask Payton about it, he started talking.

“I was right,” he informed me.

“What? Right about what?” I really wasn’t in the mood for half-spoken sentences and guessing games.

“You are a strange girl. When you were sitting by the witch’s side, you didn’t seem to notice me or anything else around you. But the idea with the dagger was a good one. The blade is still covered in Vanora’s blood. I wrapped it up and took it with us.”

He tapped against the saddlebag before continuing. “And now I’m taking you home because I can feel the change inside me. It’s getting stronger, and it’s time for you to leave me.”

I wanted nothing more than to speak up, to reassure him that I would never leave him. Because I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to leave him during the darkest years—centuries!—of his life. But I had to, because I wouldn’t be alive in two hundred seventy years. I wouldn’t be able to stay by his side forever. The only thing I could hope for was to see him again in my own time—provided that Nathaira’s curse hadn’t killed him by then.

“I love you, Payton,” I reassured him. “I always will, and if there were a way for me to stay with you, I…”

“Sam,
mo luaidh,
be still. You said it yourself: You don’t belong here. Tomorrow at this hour we will reach the cottage, and until that moment I want to be with you. I want to feel your skin and your warmth, and to taste your kisses. I want to remember how shiny your hair is and how lovely your voice sounds. The heavens have sent you to me so that I may accept my fate. Let’s not look back. Let’s not waste what precious time we have left.”

“But Payton, if only you knew what I’ve done…”

“No, Sam! Not another word! It doesn’t matter what you or I have done. Guilt and shame and hatred cannot overshadow the only thing I am left with. I haven’t been able to forget about you, not ever since I watched you by the lake,” he admitted.

I swallowed my tears, fighting against the tightness in my throat that threatened to suffocate. Then his words sank in.

“You watched me?” I asked angrily. “I asked you to turn around and look away!”

Payton laughed, and the sound made my heart beat faster.

“Oh, Sam! How could I not have watched the most beautiful girl in the world bathing in the moonlight? Besides, you were huffing and puffing like an old lady, and I was worried you’d drown.”

“Well, I guess that justifies everything!” I exclaimed with feigned outrage.

“Yes, love justifies everything,” he said, kissing me.

We made good time on our way north. There were no obstacles blocking our way or slowing us down, only this time I wouldn’t have minded a small delay. The closer we got, the more I dreaded that damn marker stone—and whatever was waiting for me on the other end. Was a way back even possible? Was Payton still alive, or would I be too late?