“What if he left you it as a clue?” Leslie asked. “You said there was a possibility he’s being forced to cooperate. What if the bridal store message and the phone are clues that he’s leaving for you?”
I wracked my brain but couldn’t come up with any hidden messages or clues.
“Have you checked the phone?” Sam asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” Sam said. “Checked to see who he’s called since he went missing? He might also have some pictures or text messages saved in there. Hell, even his internet browser might lead you somewhere. See what he was up to leading up to his disappearance.”
I sipped my drink, nodded, and resisted the urge to peel through the phone right this very second. Sam had made a good point and if I’d been thinking straight, I would have thought of it myself.
I managed to keep it together while they gathered their coats and shoes, despite the growing urgency within me to scroll through Cullen’s phone. No sooner had they closed the front door than I’d downed my drink and put on my detective cap. Cullen’s phone was full of bizarre activity. Strange web searches, phone numbers I didn’t recognize. He’d even called Leslie’s cell before he’d disappeared. I could only assume he was trying to get a hold of me but why wouldn’t he have called my phone? I’d have to ask her. Most troubling were the searches with regard to 16th-century Ireland. I mean, in some aspects it was understandable because he was working on a sixteenth-century Irish castle, but he had a team and everyone had their job. I’d never known Cullen to research the people who lived in the castles he had restored. It was my job to research Dunlace, and why would he do this sort of research on his phone when he had a computer?
If Cullen, or Liam for that matter, were planning to time travel, they would need the jewels and the spell book. I raced upstairs to Cullen’s office and unlocked the drawer where I’d hidden the jewels upon our return. They were still there. Someone could be coming for them. I should hide them. But where? Never mind that. I needed to look through my spellbook. If Liam had found some other way to travel then I would need to go, as well. I would need to rescue Cullen—the man who always rescued me.
Cullen had mixed the book in with all of the other books on the shelf. He’d said the best place to hide it was in plain sight and he was right. It’s here somewhere, I told myself, my heart beating faster. I went shelf by shelf. Shakespeare, Gabbaldon, Collins … all of my favourite books, but no spellbook. There was only one shelf left: the top one, which held Cullen’s architecture and travel books. It couldn’t be there …I didn’t see it.
I slid the ladder across the room and climbed up a few rungs. There were two books sticking out further than the rest—Castle Architecture and European Travel. Behind them was something leather; Cullen had hidden it flat against the back of the shelf. I could see why he’d chosen those books as they were smaller and oddly shaped and didn’t stick out as much as others would have.
I looked at the book and rubbed my hand across the cover experimentally, waiting to see if it hummed. Sure enought, I felt a surge of energy.
I held the book to my chest and carried it over to the window seat.
The study used to be my favorite room in the house. What librarian didn’t love being surrounded by history? The floor-to-ceiling built-in bookcases crowned with classical molding made me feel like hope and creativity were all within fingertips’ reach. I could almost picture Cullen here with me, working at his desk while I read. I set the book down and hugged one of the pillows to my chest, stroking the fur, inhaling the scent of Cullen’s cologne … whether the smell was real or imagined. The room had acquired a sad, deserted air since Cullen was missing.
Sighing, I picked up the book and retreated down the stairs to the kitchen table where I would be less distracted. I opened the book, and began skimming pages.
In about twenty minutes I’d skimmed half the small volume. I’d never believed I’d be searching this book again, let alone willingly looking to time travel. Hadn’t I had enough of the past for one lifetime?
I picked up my phone and sent Leslie a text. I needed her home to help. She was the master of research. As a matter of fact, she’d been the one to find the communication spell the last time I reached out to Rochus.
While I waited for her to get home, I opened my laptop and began to search some of the sites from Cullen’s phone’s browser history. It was easier on a larger screen. One of them was a costume shop here in Dublin. My heart beat rapidly. This was really happening. Cullen had looked up a costume shop. He was really trying to time travel. But why? God I needed help. “Leslie, where are you?” I said, and slammed my fist down on top of the book.
The book buzzed under my hand and then flew open. I looked at the page that it had opened to: To Summon a Witch.
“Hymenaeum accire et pythonissam.” I whispered.
The candle in the window flickered, and then went out.
Did the book want me to attempt a spell? Was it trying to once again put me in contact with Rochus?
I closed it.
A gust of air swept in through the fireplace, blowing ashes onto the hearth and re-opening the volume. I glanced at the page once again.
“Fine, you want me to read. I will, but I’m not lighting candles or drawing a pentagram.” I looked down at the spell. Words appearing as I read.
“I call forth from space and time matriarchs from the Lovari line!” I shouted, reading the spell. A blinding light blazed through the window.
I awoke to the sound of my name being repeated over and over. I shivered a little, recalling the spell—hands brushed my hair back.
“Sophia?”
“Leslie?”
“When did you get home?”
“A few minutes ago. You scared me. I had trouble waking you up.”
“I attempted a spell but I guess it knocked me out. What time is it?”
“Midnight. I just got home from dinner. I was going to stay at Sam’s place but I grew worried when you didn’t text back. Not to mention you said you needed my help. What’s up? Why didn’t you want me to say anything to Sam?”
I was going to need coffee to go over everything. In fact, I was so foggy that I could swear that I smelled coffee. “What is that smell?”
She handed me my favorite mug and I smiled gratefully at her. She was in a black dress and high heels.
“I have a lot to tell you but you’re gonna want to get comfortable,” I said taking a sip of the coffee. It was delicious, a perfect, strong, black cup of coffee.
She came downstairs a few minutes later, in a turquoise tank top and a pair of my grey sweatpants. She poured herself a coffee, adding milk and sugar and grabbing a cookie from the jar. Leslie didn’t do much without eating.
“I went through Cullen’s phone,” I said, taking another sip. “I think he may be trying to time travel which doesn’t make any sense to me.”
“Oh,” she said, dunking her cookie in the coffee. “What did you find?”
I grimaced at her sugar consumption. “Well in addition to researching time travel and costume shops, he was looking into his past-life self, Conal Ó Catháin.”
“You told him who’d he’d been in that life, or he figured it out?”
“I told him, but he didn’t seem overly interested at the time, outside from being jealous that I’d….” I cleared my throat. “You know…anyway, I’m not sure why he would have suddenly cared or wanted to go back.”
“You think he was seriously doing that—planning to go back there?” she mumbled. “Why would he want to go there?”
I looked out the window above the sink and stared into the darkness. “I have no idea but I need to figure that out and I may need to add some liqueur to this coffee to work up the courage.”
I opened the drawer of a console and pulled out the McQuillan materials, setting the box on the table with a clunk.
“When I used the book and disappeared from the basement of the 16th-century castle
, Sorely had wandered into the basement and saw me so it makes sense that he would have found the real Sive in the spell room in my place. But before that…I told Uilliam who I really was—a time traveler named Sophia Marcil. I wonder what he did to Sive after that. I wonder if that has something to do with Cullen’s disappearance. If either Sorely or Uilliam were in fact Liam then he could have used the spell book to come after me.”
Leslie and I both started pulling papers from the box and then Leslie stopped and held up a piece of paper.
“Oh my god, Sophia, I think you changed some things when you went back. Either that or Cullen’s already time traveled and he did.”
I threw her a quizzical look. “Like what?”
Leslie turned the picture around. It was a picture of Dunlace taken within the last decade. “Well for one thing, it looks like Cullen’s out of a job, or at least he won’t have as much to do.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you can’t exactly call Dunlace Castle a ruin anymore. It’s basically intact.”
“Really? I wonder why Sam didn’t mention that. You’d think he would notice that half of his castle is back together.”
“Or maybe he doesn’t know any better. We haven’t actually talked to him in detail about it since before you went back. Perhaps he thinks he hired Cullen to update the castle with modern amenities. Only you would know the truth, right?”
“Then how come you know?”
“That’s a good point…maybe it has something to do with me handling the spellbook. I’m in the magical know.”
“Well I guess that means I stopped the battle so that’s good news.”
Leslie nodded. “Let’s hope so. Either that or Cullen did. Keep digging.”
I pulled one of the death certificates out. “Sorely’s death certificate has changed. He didn’t die that day. As a matter of fact, he lived to be an old man. But where’s Conal’s certificate? They were together.”
“I don’t see it.”
“It was right here in this file with Sive’s marriage certificate. Wait a minute; Sorely and Sive’s marriage certificate is gone, too. Oh no, wait, it’s here, but it looks like he married someone else.”
“Well, that makes sense; you jilted Sorely at the altar.”
“And he lived…I wonder why marrying Sive was a death sentence for Sorely before. You know what doesn’t make sense? How could Sam be Sorely’s descendant if he died prior to your time travel.”
“True. Maybe he never really died.”
“Do you think you married Conal instead? Perhaps the two of you ran off.”
I looked up at Leslie. “That’s a nice thought but I somehow doubt it. My past lives are never that neat and tidy. More like he was killed instead of Sorely because he married me. Would you mind closing the window, Les? The rain seems to be blowing in.”
Coffee mug in hand, Leslie moved over to the window, leaning forward to breathe in the wet air through the screen.
“It smells so lovely, and the wind actually feels kind of nice. Do you want to go run around in it?”
I snickered from across the room just as she let out a gasp.
“What is it?”
Her eyes were wide as she shut the window and walked to me, “There’s someone out there.”
“Who?” Instantly my thoughts teetered between Cullen and Liam. I flicked off the kitchen light so we could better see out into the darkness.
“Did it look like Cullen?” I reached for my sweater and brushed past her.
“It’s dark outside. How would I be able to tell?”
“I know it’s dark,” I said, as I pulled the sweater over my head and tugged the French doors open. “Are you coming with me?”
She shook her head. “We can’t go out there. What if it’s Liam?”
“What if it’s not—what if it’s Cullen and he needs help?”
I tugged both French doors open and marched onto the back patio. I couldn’t see anyone and my frustration grew with each step. I wanted to lay eyes on Cullen so very badly.
Leslie stepped beside me. “I could have sworn I saw someone right there in front of that tree, but maybe it was just the branches. It does kind of look like a person.”
The wind blew fiercely and I tugged the tails of my wool sweater tight around me. I’d seen a shadow in that very same spot once before. The night we’d had a party and Liam had slaughtered a badger and dumped the blood on Cullen’s truck. Or at least I’d assumed it was Liam, although he’d faked being attacked that night to throw us off.
“Well, if there was someone here, there’s no one now.”
I flicked the light back on as we returned to the house. Leslie locked the door and checked to make sure all the windows were firmly closed.
“I have to find out what happened,” I whispered more to myself than to Leslie. The spellbook caught my eye. It lay closed on the table where I’d left it.
Leslie returned to the kitchen just as I sat down in front of the book. “I can’t help but feel like Cullen’s odd behavior and disappearance have something to do with all of this. Going back is the only way I’m going to know for sure.”
“Sophia, it’s too dangerous. What if I know of another way?”
I wrinkled my forehead, trying to anticipate what she was going to say.
“Remember that magical mirror spell in the book? I saw it the last time we went through it. We can use the large mirror in the living room. Let’s try that first, so then at least we know what you’re going back into if you wind up having to go back.”
“How do you always know more about my book than I do?”
Leslie shrugged. “I like to read.”
“So, what’s a magical mirror spell?”
“I think it’s similar to a crystal ball. You bless a mirror and then you can look into the past or the future but you need names and a specific date in history.”
She hovered her hand over the book as she’d done before and it opened to the correct page.
“Hey! How do you do that?”
Leslie shook her head[RS7]. “See, I told you—I’m in the magical know.”
FIFTY-SIX
Northern Ireland, November 1551
“ What have ye done to her, Sorely? I swear if ye hurt her I’ll kill ye myself, even if ye are kin! Open the door!”
He continued pounding.
“Stop it, ye fool!” Sorely yanked the door open and stepped away as Conal pushed into the room.
“Where is she?” He walked quickly through the room, looking behind curtains, turning over tables, looking for Sive. “What have ye done with her?”
“She’s no here, Conal.” Sorely stood still in the doorway, watching as his cousin tore through his room. “What the hell do ye think ye are doin’? She was my bride-to-be, and an unfaithful whore at that, and ye dare ask me what I’ve done with her?”
“I do. Now tell me where she is or suffer the consequences.” Conal pounded his fist against the wall and whirled on Sorely.
Sorely moved to place his hands on Conal’s shoulders, but Conal quickly moved out of his way.
“Ye won’t be seeing her again, cousin, none of us will.”
“Like hell!” He stepped away and tightened his fists to keep from striking his cousin. “I will see her and I will make sure that ye have no harmed a hair on the lass’s head.”
“Do ye really think I’d kill her?”
“If ye didn’a kill her then, where is she?”
Sorely flinched. “She’s where she belongs, according to that hell-born beastly father of hers!”
“Uilliam? Ye mean she’s at Dunlace still with her Da? Thank the heavens. So, ye just gave up? That’s hardly believable.”
“We made a deal of sorts.”
“Careful now, Sorely; lie down with dogs and you’ll rise with fleas.”
“Aye, that’s true enough, but there was no point in tearin’ the castle apart—not if it was to be mine anyway. As it is, I’ll have to repair the east wi
ng where the fire was set.”
“He gave ye the castle if ye left his daughter unharmed? That’s a relief; maybe he’s reconsidered her happiness.”
“I dinna think he cares whether or not his daughter is happy. He was black as night with rage when I left him in the witches lair, dabbling in black magic. So, if ye want to see Sive, ye are more than welcome to go after her but I warn ye, he’s probably already killed her.”
In a flash Conal’s fist hit the side of Sorely’s face. It pushed his body sideways, but Sorely quickly recovered, charging toward his cousin as Conal screamed at him between blows.
“What the hell is wrong with ye? Ye saw that he meant to kill her and ye left? Ye made a bargain with the devil, ye coward.”
Pent-up rage erupted as Conal slammed into his cousin, sending them both to the floor in a whirl of kicking legs and surging fists.
“I dinna think we have much say in the matter, cousin. She’s his daughter and if she’s not already dead then he’s locked her away to rot.”
FIFTY-SEVEN
I stepped into the kitchen to be met with a sympathetic gaze from Leslie. “Feeling any better?”
Two magical spells in a row had wiped me out. I’d thrown up immediately after and then passed out. Leslie must have somehow carried me to bed—although I couldn’t imagine how—but I had no memory of getting there myself.
I walked to the French doors and surveyed the backyard beyond the glass—gardens tumbled in wild disarray.
“I feel like I’m hungover.” I pinched my eyebrows together.
Leslie laughed in response. “You look like it too. You’ve never reacted this badly when we’ve done spells in the past. I wonder why it was so hard on you this time.”
She motioned me to the chair across from her and set a cup of coffee in my hands. “We need to talk about what we saw last night.”
I looked back at her plate of food: eggs, bacon and toast. She was shoveling it into her mouth. I could only assume that was her third meal of the day.
Cruel Fortunes Omnibus: Volumes One to Four Page 62
