The Reckoning, page 16
part #50 of The Ghosts of Culloden Moor Series
“She asked for the same bargain Rowena had made, to trade a year of her life to bring each of her beloved Highlanders back to life…for two days. I promised her that bargain.”
“That’s not right!” Soni was on her feet. “I’m allowed to bring them back to life, Grandfather. There was nothing said about two days!”
The broad old shoulders lifted briefly. “Ye asked for Rowena’s bargain. And that was what she bargained for. She wanted a bit of time with MacAdo, sure, but she only asked for the two days, so he could make another vow, in the flesh, to move on to the hereafter.”
Soni shook her head and began pacing behind her chair. A low rumble echoed through the floor and walls, but she didn’t seem to hear. Wickham glanced around the room to judge how those walls might hold up to the power of an earthquake and noticed that small boards, strings, and wire mesh had been strung in front of most shelves, as if The Grandfather expected earthquakes on a daily basis.
“I know the story,” Soni insisted, still pacing. “The sisters had me memorize it. I know it by heart. Rowena and MacAdo lived four years together, until he was killed in a fight.”
“Aye. The man was promised two days during which he could not be killed. But Rowena had misunderstood. She thought she was giving up her entire life so that MacAdo could make his new vow. It was this willingness, this ultimate sacrifice that purchased a truly mortal life for the man. But the year of her own life only purchased those two days.”
Wickham rushed to help Soni back onto her chair, or she might have collapsed to the floor, in shock. He turned to the old man and tried a gentler tack. “Ye see, Grandfather? She has changed her mind. The bargain cannot be valid if she misunderstood.”
Pity furrowed the old brow, bringing out a hundred years of wear. Then he shook his head. “What is done is done, laddie. I denied Rowena three times, hoping she would withdraw her petition. I even denied Soncerae once more than that, but she would not be denied. Perhaps, if I were a younger man, like ye, I might have been able to hold out much longer.”
“Gah!” Wickham gripped the back of Soni’s chair and shook himself in frustration. He might have thrown the chair against the wall if she wasn’t sitting there. “This is not about me! This is not about the Muir Clan. Let them fend for themselves! I’m asking ye to dissolve the bargain. And if ye were there to argue with Rowena in the 14th century, ye’ve enough power to grant our request.”
“No.”
The word was spoken so quietly, compared to Wickham’s, he barely heard it over his own voice echoing in the ancient rafters. It wasn’t the old man who’d spoken it, however. It was the lass.
He stepped to the side of her chair and crouched next to her. “Please, Soni. Ye have to let me help. I can’t fight the pair of ye.”
Still rattled by the newest revelation, she forced a smile and put a pale and shaking hand to the side of his face. “Two years or twenty, it doesnae signify. What matters now is what mattered for MacAdo, that he be able to move on. My destiny isn’t to bring my lads back to life, it’s to free them from the moor. And even if they only have a pair of days, they will have that freedom when it’s done—the freedom to go to sleep and wake somewhere besides a muddy field, wallowing in their own cold blood. Haven’t they done that enough?”
On the drive back to Inverness, to take Soni home, Wickham might have sobbed the whole way, but there was no sense in both of them getting his shirt wet.
Snuggled up against him, she wept silently, but her tears dripped steadily. The only sound came from the windshield wipers and her occasional sniffle. When they crossed the firth, she finally straightened and scooted away. Only then did he dare speak.
“Yer parents are going to kill me.”
She shook her head. “They needn’t know…until, ye know, I’m gone. But I’m not ready to talk about that.”
“Ye should have thought of that—”
“Not helping.”
A minute later, “My sisters are going to kill me.”
Soni scoffed. “Ye don’t think they already know?”
“If they do, then I’m the one who’ll be killing them!” He took some deep breaths to calm himself. “Look. I realize we need to make a plan, but I’m not quite ready for the next step. I trust ye’re not either?”
She shrugged. “We have eleven months. The Reckoning will take place—the years come due--on my next birthday.”
“Yer birthday is on the 18th. So right. Eleven months, two days.”
“Plenty of time,” she whispered.
She wasn’t as glib as she pretended to be, then. They were talking about her death, after all. Her actual death. And if it was going to take a while to wrap his head around it, he couldn’t imagine how impossible it would be for her to do the same. Then again, she’d had a day’s head start on him. Maybe it was just the new development that she was dealing with now—finding out that sacrificing her life was only going to buy two days of mortality for a bunch of rag-tag…
He took a deep breath, then another, and forced their images out of his mind. Then he tried to be helpful. And positive. “Ye’ll need to hone yer powers. There is much ye need to learn. Ye must practice stepping out of time, summoning, persuasion—”
“I have summoning down.”
“A good start.” They exchanged a quick smile. “Right then. I’ll speak with Ivy and let ye ken what day of the week is best to help ye. But I’ll have yer word ye won’t do anything rash before we have a solid plan.”
“Agreed. As long as I have enough time to get them all off the moor…before The Reckoning.”
They pulled up in front of her house, but Wickham made no move to get out. “It’s best I stay put, lass. Otherwise, I’ll start greetin’ and hangin’ on yer neck, and yer neighbors will ken something is amiss. We wouldn’t want them going to yer parents with questions.”
Already, his eyes were wet, so she decided not to say anything sappy. “I’ll wait for yer call, then.”
“We’ll need my sisters’ help, I reckon. I’ll let them ken what’s happened when I deliver the broom tomorrow, shall I?”
“If they don’t already know.”
“Aye. But I’ll wait until tomorrow to ask. I can only take one shock a day, aye?”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Soni stood with her back to the Cameron monument and used the northbound breeze to keep her eyes dry. Simon couldn’t know everything, but she’d come to let him know the basics. And if she started greetin’, he’d know she was hiding something.
Thankfully, he couldn’t read minds like the Muirs.
“Soncerae, please. I’ve apologized a dozen times. Ye ken my intentions were well-meaning. Forgive me already and put this notion aside.”
She blinked rapidly for a few seconds, then turned to face him. “Ye were forgiven as soon as I came to my senses. I told ye. And I promise I’m not punishing ye for trying to scare me away. It was sweet that ye tried. And I love ye all the more for it.”
He got to his feet and in the blink of an eye, the space between them was gone. “Then do not do this. Dinnae send me away. There can be no rush, aye?”
“No rush, no. But I ken in my bones it is time. And I can never discount a strong feeling, or I am tempting Fate.”
“Fate again?” He turned his head and made the noise, at least, of spitting. “Perhaps ye only imagine this feeling, hmm?” By lowering his voice, he got her to look up, then rewarded her with a sexy smile. “Ye’ll make yer ghost a happy man if ye take it back. Free us in a year or two, when ye’ve grown weary of my company.”
She sighed heavily. “Fine. I’ll stop talking about it. But when the time comes, I’ll have to do what I must.”
“Just promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
He lifted his hand and let his fingers fall slowly along her face, an inch from her skin, avoiding the proof of his inability to touch her. “When ye free the 79…free me last.”
It was Monday night, the one evening a week when Wickham was available to help her work on the plan. Thus far, they’d accomplished nearly everything on the list, including the organization of Muir witches from all over the U.K. and U.S. to be on the lookout for women in trouble.
She’d had the brilliant idea to challenge her Highlanders to perform a noble deed in order to have a tête-à-tête with Bonnie Prince Charlie. And hopefully, they’d enjoy a little romance during their short forays back into the mortal world, and perhaps have a chance to put their own demons to bed before facing God’s judgment. Since she couldn’t ask them outright which they’d prefer, she decided to choose the former—romance—and hope that her years of getting to know each man would help with the latter.
Of course, it meant she would have to send only a few at a time, as the planets and schemes aligned…
Soni parked her car at the train station, stepped into the loo, and willed herself across town, to the empty warehouse Wickham had let for their practice and planning. She saw the place clearly in her mind, then decided where she wanted her feet to land. It was a simple thing, really, when she was able to see anywhere, in real time, by simply expecting to. And this time, she’d seen where Wickham was standing—and that he was not alone.
She landed and waved her hands in a flourish. Wickham’s sisters were seated at the conference table with mismatched chairs, which had been left by the previous occupants. Of course they applauded. Wickham only nodded his approval. “Hello, Soni. I invited my sisters—”
“Because ye have bad news?”
He frowned. “I thought we agreed, ye and I, not to read each other.”
“I wasn’t reading ye. I’ve just noticed that ye bring in yer sisters for reinforcements sometimes. If you need reinforcements, it usually means ye have bad news.” But Soni was beyond worrying. The important thing was getting the 79 free of the moor, and that had already been arranged. The rest was…unfortunate…but time would just have to heal all wounds. Her parents would have to save each other, and the Muirs had, well, the Muirs.
“Oh.” Wickham stopped pacing. “I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions.”
“So did I.” She waited, but no one spoke. “So…”
“Fine,” Wickham said, then pulled out a chair for her. “There is a problem.”
She laughed, but she laughed alone. “Uh oh. What is it?” He rolled out a chair and sat, then reached for her hand. She pulled it away. “Just tell me already.”
“All right. Ye can’t have Bonnie Prince Charlie.”
“Why not?”
He leaned back in his chair, which rolled a foot. Was he trying to put space between them? “Because we can’t find a way to bring him back for you. I even went to The Grandfather, to see if he could help. But he can’t.” Wickham chewed on the side of his bottom lip, which made him look very suspicious.
“What are ye not telling me?”
The sisters gave Wickham a look that screamed I told you so! He shook his head, showed his symbolically empty hands, then folded them under his arms.
Soni rolled her eyes and turned to the sisters. “What is he not telling me? Please don’t make me drive to the Black Isle to find out for myself.”
Lorraine leaned forward. “Wickham can’t bring Charles Stuart back to life. We can’t bring him back—at least, not to a mortal form—and neither can The Grandfather.”
Soni growled in frustration. “I have to have him. The ghosts won’t leave unless I do. I know them. They won’t budge without the hope that they can have their revenge. They really believe they have to stay there, on the battlefield, until someone avenges them. Though no one from that era is left, they refuse to accept that. Most of them, anyway. And those who don’t want revenge, pretend they do. It validates their haunting the place without having to look inward.”
“Wickham,” Loretta said. “For a sixteen-year-old, it sounds like she knows her stuff, doesn’t it?” Her brother rolled his eyes, but gave up his belligerent pose. She knocked an arthritic knuckle on the table. “Tell her or I will.”
Wickham closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, she realized his secret was causing him great pain, and if it was worse news than he’d just delivered, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
“We can’t bring Charlie back. None of us. It was an impossible idea anyway, lass. No other witch would have entertained such an idea. Most magic doesn’t work simply because a witch expects it—”
“But what?”
He huffed. “Only one can bring him back, Soni.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Only you.”
“So why is that bad news?” She couldn’t help smiling. “I knew there had to be some bonus for being a Third, right?”
But no one else at the table seemed to share her cheer. Lorraine closed her eyes and shook her head, as if to prepare her, and Soni’s stomach dropped with heavy dread. She looked away, staring at the floor, unseeing, while she tried to find the answer herself.
If I have the power to bring him back, then I could have brought back the others without selling off the rest of my life… But then, The Grandfather would have told her that. Surely…
Her sleeve had ridden up her arm and one of the marks peeked out the edge. Out of habit from trying to hide the brown slashes from her parents, she quickly stretched the sleeve down.
Then she pulled it up again. The answer was staring at her.
She had the power…sitting right there on her arms. The credits for seventy-nine lives, ready and waiting. But if she used one for the prince…
If she used one for Bonnie Prince Charlie, one of her ghosts couldn’t be saved.
Soni ended the call and set her mobile on the table. Her heart beat frantically as she scanned the room that would soon be a tea shop. Her great aunts were attempting to take a shelf off a short wall they planned to remove altogether, but they couldn’t get the screws to turn.
“Hey,” Soni said, to get their attention. “Why don’t ye just knock it down along with the wall?”
“Waste not, want not,” they said in unison.
There was no time for summoning courage. She just had to tell them. “Can ye both take a break at least? I…I have a problem.”
The pair were quick to sit down across the table from her, more curious than tired. “Was it the phone call?”
Soni nodded. “Ye know how I had that young woman all lined up for Lachlan McLean?”
“The one who ran away?”
“Aye, well, she’s been spotted. I need to get help to her, right? Before we lose her again?”
The sisters shared a look, then nodded. “Wickham won’t be happy,” Lorraine said, then smiled. “But don’t worry about him—”
“More important things.” Loretta pointed to the big chart. “How many others can you send right away?”
Soni looked at the list of names. There was so much to coordinate, but thankfully, she had an army of Muir witches sending her information. The 79 were precious to her, and she was probably being a little too picky about the women she matched them with. But she couldn’t drop an 18th century Highlander in just anyone’s path and expect it to turn out well.
“I’ll make some calls.” She tapped her pen on the table while she faced the facts. “I’m going to have to start tonight, even with Wickham out of town. I’ll need to borrow yer wee truck to take the firewood.” But that wasn’t her biggest worry. “I thought I’d have time to practice my speech. What if no one agrees?”
Loretta laughed. “They won’t need a speech. Just dare them. Men always step up to a challenge, especially with so many others watching. And first thing in the morning, we’ll be with you to collect the prince. Everything is in place. The guards are just waiting for a call.”
“Don’t worry, my dear,” Lorraine chimed in with her sing-song voice. “You are guaranteed success.”
“Really?”
“Tonight is the summer solstice. The herald of fertility and abundance. Fertile soil for sowing spells, I would think. Not the other.”
The three of them giggled for a minute, then Loretta went to find a sledgehammer and a man to wield it. Lorraine went to put a kettle on, and Soni consulted the giant grid before her, looking for phone numbers. A short time later, when they gathered around a clear table to have tea, Lorraine clearly had something on her mind, so Soni asked what it was.
“I was wondering, my dear, if you’ve decided which of your 79 will have to…find another way off the moor.”
Loretta gave her sister an elbow and a scowl.
“It’s all right. I don’t mind that she asked.” Soni took a sip of tea, then cleared her throat. “Yes. I’ve decided.” She washed the tears down her throat with another hot sip. “It will be Simon,” she whispered, because that was all the volume she could manage. “Definitely Simon.”
Wickham was going to kick her butt. Soni knew that, and yet, she couldn’t just leave sweet Harper to fend for herself on the streets of Salt Lake City. Not with that monster and his goons hunting her down. Wickham would just have to understand or get over it.
Understanding might come easy when he realized how the universe had aligned for four of the other ghosts at the same time. Of course, she’d end up doing a lot of running around in two days, when their adventures were technically over. But she had a plan for that, too.
And like most of her plans, she relied on the precognition of a certain pair of sisters who were able to warn Soni what to be prepared for. She honestly couldn’t have organized her complicated plan without them.
Simon was going to be impressed. Unhappy with her, but impressed.
Chapter Thirty
The Gathering (documented in book 1), summer solstice, 2015…
Regrettably, her parents didn’t retire at their usual time that night. In fact, it was 11:30 before they were in bed and drowsy enough to ignore a wee spell being cast from the hallway. After that, she was on her way to the moor with a dummy made of mere shadow in her bed.
