The Curse: Touch of Eternity (The Curse series) (25 page)

Therefore, I am writing down my knowledge in the hope that you will one day be capable of understanding your history. In the hope that you may be able to go the right way by these lines, to master your life, to look ahead and to always remember those from whom you descend.

I do not know where I should start, there is so much to say and I have so little time left. It is true; I am dying. This sickness has clenched me in its deadly claw for so long, and now seems to be dragging me mercilessly into the dark. For days I have been waiting for an opportunity like this, a moment in which I should be strong enough to hold the pen so that I could fulfill my most important duty.

As I write this, dearest Muireall, you are lying in your bed, only a short distance from me. Your calm breathing proves to me that you were strong enough to survive the fever. The roses are returning to
your cheeks, your hair is shiny again and your body feels pleasantly warm instead of burning hot. Luck does not seem to be on my side, and it pains me greatly that I will leave you here alone, much more than the fever’s pain hurts me. I am an old woman and am not fighting for my fate, but it is different for you. You have to live. You have to stay safe. I have, therefore, arranged for you a crossing to America in the next few days. Here in France you will not be safe enough without me. But in the Colonies, you should have nothing more to fear. Take this decision I made for you as a blessing to you, and face your destiny.

You, Muireall Cameron, are the daughter of Tomas and Isobel Cameron. Your great-grandfather was Lachlann Cameron, who in his youth burned with passion for your great-grandmother, Caitlin Stuart, although the two clans had long been enemies. The Stuarts have never forgiven the Camerons for stealing one of their daughters. That is exactly what they accused your great-grandfather of. But everyone knew that your great-grandmother was very happy to be stolen by Lachlann. And after Caitlin had become pregnant, her family banished her. But worse was to come when Lachlann was found murdered only a few days after his son, Eideard, had been born. Caitlin knew exactly that her own family must have been responsible for the murder; and instead of returning to her deceitful family after this act of treachery, she shortly afterward married Lachlann’s brother, Manus Cameron. Since then, there has not been a peaceful day between the neighboring clans. Manus raised his brother’s son as his own, and Eideard grew up to be a strong man. His father’s murder smoldered in the young man’s chest. Manus, on the other hand, wanted to hear nothing of revenge.

But Eideard couldn’t quite tame his anger, and so it came that again and again animals disappeared from the Stuarts’ herds. Not so many that it was obvious, but enough to give Eideard a sense of
revenge against his neighbors. At that time, it was not advisable to move around in the borderlands between the two clans without protection. Shepherds or farmers who were going about their work there, many a time they never returned home. The feud went so far that there were real battles when the two opposing clans met.

The Stuarts had no intention of ending the feud either, just like Eideard. On the contrary. To get themselves into a better position, the chieftain, Kinnon Stuart, participated in the attack on Fair Isle. He captured a Fair Witch, hoping she would make him more powerful—perhaps even invincible. Kinnon took the eldest of the Fair Lasses to his castle: Vanora. He hoped her powers would already be strong enough to fulfill his wishes. The twenty-year-old witch was to be his weapon.

“Hey.”

I was so caught up in what I was reading that Ashley’s sudden appearance in the doorway made me jump. Reluctantly, I put the book down and looked up at her. “Oh, hi. I thought you were down at the beach. Soaking up the sun and all that.”

“I was. But I started to get hungry. How about you?”

Admittedly, my stomach was rumbling, and when Ashley mentioned food, its insistence got worse.

“Hmm, yes, I could use something to eat.”

Casting a regretful glance at the book, I went downstairs with Ashley.

“You know, you’re getting sunburned,” I told her. “You might want to be careful. You don’t want to get blisters.”

Ashley shrugged. “I wanted to make sure I was really tan before I head back home.”

When I opened the fridge door, I was discouraged by the almost-empty shelves.

“Oooh, gourmet offerings,” I said. “We have some ham here, and two eggs.”

“There’s bread and ketchup in the pantry,” Ashley said. “What can we make with that combination?”

“An egg sandwich,” I suggested without enthusiasm. “We could fry these up.”

Ashley wrinkled her nose, but she nodded and got out a pan.

“But let’s order in Chinese or Thai tonight,” she said. “I think we’ll starve to death if we don’t get some meals delivered.”

“Sounds good. Or we could go to the supermarket later today and pick some stuff up.”

“I’d rather go back down to the beach. Let’s have something delivered tonight, and then go shopping first thing tomorrow morning. I’d hate to waste this beautiful day at some stupid grocery store.”

While Ashley cracked the eggs into the pan, I spread ketchup on the slices of bread, added some ham, and then decided to spread on another layer of ketchup for good measure. Now all we needed was the egg. I wished we at least had some sliced cheese, but that would have to go on the shopping list.

“How are those eggs coming along?” I asked. It felt nice to get along with her for once.

“Coming!”

Ashley let the hot eggs glide directly from the pan onto the bread; then she plunked the pan into the sink, where it made a loud hissing sound. As usual, I had badly burned
my mouth on the first bite. It seemed I would never learn to wait to let my food to cool. I had to admit that our meal of leftovers wasn’t nearly as bad as I had feared. Ashley also nodded in approval, and we emptied our plates. Using the last piece of bread, I wiped up the ketchup and stuck it in my mouth. Ashley threw her plate into the already overflowing sink.

“I guess we’ll have to deal with these dishes sometime, too.” My parents would have been appalled if they ever saw the kitchen in such a mess.

Ashley grabbed a bag of potato chips from the pantry, sauntered out the door, and headed back to the beach. I prodded the roof of my mouth with my tongue, drank another glass of cold water, and added my plate to the jumble in the sink. I was in a hurry to get back upstairs to Grandma’s book.

I plopped back onto my bed, savoring the peace and quiet, and flipped to the last page I’d read.

The twenty-year-old witch was to be his weapon.

During this time, Eideard married a dull girl called Aigneis. Their marriage was blessed with three children: Anna, Kyla, and Tomas—your father.

Having children made Eideard slightly calmer. His pushing desire for revenge started to fade as he grew a bit older and wiser, and his love for his children made him feel more whole.

Things quieted down for the Stuarts, too. The beautiful Fair Witch, Vanora, did not have the desired abilities that the clan had hoped for. Again and again, she claimed that she was only able to use nature’s powers, and never with malicious intent. Kinnon, who did not want to believe her, kept the woman prisoner in his tower for
many years. After about ten years, his son, Grant, started to show an interest in the beautiful prisoner. And although Grant was already married and his wife, Una, had only just given him a son, he fell in love with the witch.

Not even his father, Kinnon, had any idea that his son went to the charming prisoner every evening.

Vanora would have had the power to protect herself from Grant’s advances, but then she would have had to reveal her powers. And she never wanted to become a tool for these men. That is why she put up with Grant’s abuse. Only by her tears could she express that Grant was taking her against her will. In the beginning, Vanora thought about taking her own life, but she did not want to give her torturer that victory. And later on, when she realized that she was expecting a child, she wouldn’t kill herself and take the child’s life, too.

I could hardly believe what I was reading. The woman who had come to me in my dreams had really lived? I hadn’t quite bought Roy’s story, but now, with it all laid out in black-and-white in front of me, my whole body was tingling. I felt an odd recognition, a connection. Everything in me seemed to leap.

And if Vanora really had existed, then it was possible that everything Payton had told me was true as well. I had already seen his quickly healing wound with my own two eyes. And the scary Alasdair was also very present in my memory. Still, far away from Scotland and its legends, back on dull, safe American ground, I didn’t know what to believe: Could my grandma’s book give me all the answers I was looking for? And if so, what would that change for me? Could I
maybe forgive Payton then? I doubted that; after all, he was still a murderer.

I hated to call him that, to lump the sweet Scot who had given me my first kiss in with an ice-cold, calculating killer. As I’d gotten to know him, I really had thought I could see into his soul. And what I had seen there was sadness, loneliness, and pain—not a murderous streak.

Oh, Payton, I thought… Why? Why was everything so desperately complicated? The more I thought about Payton, the more I felt despair. I was miserable, and I started to weep. When some of my tears dripped onto the old writing, I quickly wiped them away.

After Vanora had borne the child, she was chased away by Grant that same night. Weakened by the birth, without having seen her baby even once, she was dragged by the guards outside the front of the castle and was threatened: she was never again to be seen on the Stuarts’ land.

So Vanora fled over the border to the land of the Camerons, where she was fortunately received mercifully and looked after. And although Vanora was now free and could have gone where she wanted, she spent the rest of her life there. She could not leave her child too far from her. She had no idea what had become of the baby, but she felt that the child was alive. That knowledge and the hope to one day see her child again was enough to bind her to her new home. But at least one thing she had managed: never had she revealed her powers.

Dear Muireall, I am sure you are asking yourself what the witch’s story has to do with you. It’s simple: the night that made you an orphan, Vanora saved both of our lives.

How Vanora knew what would happen, I cannot tell you, but she came storming into your parents’ chamber only a few minutes before all hell broke loose in the castle courtyard. She wakened Tomas, told him that she had a vision of an impending attack. Quickly, Tomas was ready and at arms, but when he arrived in the courtyard, it was almost too late to defend the castle. The massive gate swung open and a group of heavily armed men pushed into the courtyard. Only a few Cameron guards were on duty at night, and they were either surprised in their sleep or were still weaponless when the fight started. Tomas ran to his men, and Isobel, his wife, held you, her crying daughter, in her arms. Vanora warned her to get herself and the child to safety, to leave the castle through the small corridor behind the kitchen building, and then to hide. The witch’s words echoed like thunder through Isobel’s chamber, but your mother was so frightened, it was as if she had turned to stone. As quickly as Vanora had arrived, she disappeared again. Only the truth of her words remained, and already the first shouts and loud sounds of fighting penetrated the corridors.

I, Marta McGabhan, tried to push your mother to the door, but fear paralyzed her body. In the end, I did not know how else to help, so I pulled you out of her arms and ran to the kitchen with you. Now, at last, life returned to Isobel, and while I was getting you to safety, I could hear steps behind us. She was following me. The castle was dark, it was in the middle of the night, and it was difficult to get to the kitchen. I was just about to turn the corner when I could hear weapons clashing in front of me. Quickly, I pressed myself into a corner, and held you tightly close to me to muffle your crying.

Then warriors came around the corner. Their weapons reflected the little light that found its way around the walls. Your mother ran directly at them. The men chuckled at their surprise, and drove Isobel in front of them with their swords, making it quite clear what
they were intending to do with her before they would kill her, just like the rest of the inhabitants of the castle. With a last glance at the darkness of our hiding place, your mother crossed her heart and tore away. She ran along the path we had come and reached the stairs that led up to the tower. The men stormed after their victim.

I had no time to wait for your mother, and I certainly did not want to wait to see whether the warriors would come back. As fast as I could, I ran to the kitchen. For fear of fire, the kitchen in this castle, as in so many, stood slightly apart from the other buildings, directly at the castle wall. The fighting was barely audible here, and therefore I dared to catch my breath for a moment. There was no sign of your mother. I pressed myself as flat as I could against the outer wall of the kitchen, hiding us behind a pile of barrels. I did not know what to do or where I could hide us, when I heard Vanora’s voice. Not out loud, but in my head: “Run! The fight is lost! You are not safe here any longer. Save the child, save the Cameron bloodline. Get away from here. I will help you. I will give you a chance and a magic pendant. It will always warn you if you are in danger. But now delay no longer. Run!”

And when the voice in my head had made room again for the sounds of the night, I found a necklace in my hand. I put it around your neck to protect you, and I crept into the dark kitchen. The smell of food was in the air, and in the fireplace there was still a little fire. I quickly knotted a tablecloth to a bag and filled it with a loaf of bread, a large piece of ham, and some apples. I didn’t dare take any more, for fear someone might soon find us. Then I felt my way along the wall to the back door. But the door was locked. Desperately, I tried to think what I could do now. There weren’t any more sounds from the castle. The fight was apparently over. Maybe, I thought, I could just hide here until everything had passed.