by Laura Emmons
I pushed myself up and sat cross-legged next to him with my hands firmly locked on my lap. I had to stop touching him all the time. It was bad for both of our equilibriums.
“Hey, Maggie,” Pat called from across the blanket.
“Hmmm,” I queried.
“We figured out the story on those keys.”
My head snapped up, hopefully; he’d gotten my attention.
Duncan chimed in on the conversation. “Yeah, I’d forgotten all about it.”
“Well, tell me.” I said impatiently. The keys said FORD on them, I’d already guessed they went to a car. The questions remaining: which car and where was it parked?
“We found it in the barn over on the other side of the condemned house. It looks like it’s in pretty good shape. Of course, no one’s driven it for nineteen years, so it’ll need work.” I held my breath with anticipation. “But I think it would make a good first car, for someone just learning to drive. What do you think, Fiona?”
“Oh yes,” she said nonchalantly, “I agree. It’s small.”
“True,” Duncan nodded, “but it gets great gas mileage, and besides, how much car does Maggie need?”
I squealed. They’d said it. I was going to get a car.
“Of course, she’ll have to learn to drive stick,” said Fiona.
I gulped.
Evan laughed at me. “I can teach you,” he said.
“No, you cannot,” snapped Rose. “You’re not eighteen yet. Pat will teach her. I will not tolerate any more underage driving.”
“What does it look like?” I asked longingly.
Pat answered, “It’s a little white Ford Festiva. It’s kinda boxy, with four seats and a hatch. It’s so small I can roll down the passenger window from the driver’s seat without leaning over.”
“As I recall,” said Duncan, “those cars got forty-six miles to the gallon. That’s why Margaret bought it. She always did her part to conserve energy.”
“Geez Evan,” Corey said from my feet. He’d obviously woken up at the mention of having another car in the family. “I think we’ve found something that makes her more breathless than you.”
I tried to smack him, but he moved out of reach. Everyone laughed except for Evan and me.
Corey continued, “How’d it end up in some barn for nineteen years?”
Duncan answered, “As far as we can figure, she’d gone out to that cave of theirs to pray to her ancestors, or something, and passed away while she meditated. She had stage-four cancer by then. The doctor who did the autopsy didn’t think she’d suffered much.”
I’d seen my mom’s last day. Without any pain killers, Margaret probably suffered a lot. She’d felt compelled to go to the cave, anyway.
“She probably parked in the barn and walked to the cave. When your grandpa Ewan found her body, he was distraught.”
Fiona nodded, “…inconsolable…”
Duncan finished, “and I’m sure no one thought about the car. Since Ewan died two months later, we forgot about it. The keys stayed there on the ground.”
I disagreed. The keys had been carefully tucked inside the bundle of twigs and placed against the back wall. That required planning. I wondered if a Seer had told Margaret to do it knowing I would find them nineteen years later. She had said the ancestors had waited for me for a long time. Does this tie into a greater plan I do not yet understand? The thought made me shudder.
Fiona said kindly, “I’m sure she would have wanted her namesake to inherit the car, so it’s yours.”
“Yay!” The purpose of the gift was irrelevant right now. I had a car.
***
After the intermission, the play resumed. Paul Sinclair continued his role as narrator.
“So the great families of the Cacapon clan moved up here and have prospered. We have Macgregor’s,” a huge shout went up from the enormous Macgregor cluster, “and McGee’s,” another shout from a different part of the clearing resounded, “McMahon’s,” we cheered, “and McFadden’s, Wallace’s, Brown’s, McCormack’s, and McCoy’s,” he continued. Paul called out each of the names of the families in the clan, and each time the family members cheered. When he called out the McLeod’s I noticed Madison didn’t sit with her family and it struck me as odd. Evan cheered for Keach’s, Stewart’s and McMahon’s. I liked how he’d adopted himself as part of our extended family. Paul ended with a call for MacDougall’s and we all cheered loudly.
Then he grew somber. “And of course we’ve lost a few fine family lines along the way. We miss the McGuire’s,” they had been another prominent Healer family. “And we miss the Miller’s, the Running Deer’s and the Algoma’s.” He mentioned a couple of others and I realized the extent of Arianrhod’s pruning over the decades. We had a moment of silence for the ones who had been lost, and they started the longest part of the play. The Bruce’s and Sinclair’s started to recount anecdotes from seven generations of clan members. People got up and walked around as necessary. As always at these outdoor clan events, portable toilets had been provided in the parking lot. I listened to several of the stories, because they were all new to me, and I daydreamed a bit. I might have fallen asleep on Evan’s shoulder at one point. I know he fell asleep with his head on my lap somewhere around the time of the Great Depression. The whole time, I kept an ear open for any mention of the names I’d written on my family tree.
As the sky began to lighten, the stories became more contemporary. They told the same story Steve had told me about the AMC Pacer on the roof of the high school, and Evan grunted.
“What is it?” I asked him.
He whispered in my ear. “Steve wasn’t even there. Liam McFadden, two Wallace boys, Kyle Dawkins and I got that car on the roof of the school. Jerk.”
The performers recounted the story of the hunt for the Druid’s Egg, which had saved my sanity last summer. Steve’s role in that adventure had been embellished also. I was glad I didn’t have to spend time with him anymore. The last story they told described how Evan and I had discovered an illegal strip mine dumping radioactive water into a little stream called Warm Spring Run. I smiled at the memory of how we saved the water nymph, Easnadh, and the little girl, Zoe Brown. She waved at me from across the meadow. Everyone clapped when the play ended. Then something remarkable happened.
An amethyst-colored glow appeared in the arch opposite from where we sat. The ethereal light grew and seeped out from under the arch. It formed a growing cloud of airy multi-colored fabric floating on a breeze. The light purple changed to a light blue, a medium blue, and a midnight blue dotted with sequins like far off stars on a clear night. The colored stripes undulated like dozens of silk petticoats, with the midnight blue being the sequined velvet dress on top. The colored clouds squeezed through the narrow opening of the arch, followed by a belt made of diamonds and a ruffled bodice of deep violet. Two arms and a ruffled neck poked through the portal. The last part of the goddess to emerge was her head. Her glittering silver skin shone on her heart-shaped and fine-boned face. Her eyes were the same deep violet as mine. With a pop, her flowing long, wavy locks of navy blue hair topped with an intricate silver filigree tiara slid through the portal. Arianrhod had joined the party. She flew over the meadow until she floated directly over the Sidhe arch, about twenty feet in the air. Her skirt flowed nearly thirty feet across. She didn’t talk. Like us, she waited.
A yellow glow appeared under the arch. A full head of long, platinum hair popped through the archway. The hair framed a golden-skinned face with a finely chiseled bone structure. A strong jaw, thin lips, aquiline nose and piercing amber eyes made up the components of the intimidating and awe-inspiring face of a god. Turning sideways, the King of the Sun pushed broad shoulders through the opening. Placing strong arms on the two standing stones which held up the transom, he pushed against them to squeeze his bare, heavily muscled torso into the clearing. His hips and thighs were covered with a traditional Scottish kilt, or maybe it was a Roman centurion’s lorica segmentata, or anothe
r skirt-like piece of apparel. It glowed with fire, so it was hard to see the detail. As with Arianrhod, I wasn’t sure if he had feet. Her dress covered up everything below the waist and his legs were engulfed in a cloud of flame. The last part of his body to emerge was the most impressive. Because he folded a pair of huge, glorious feathered wings behind his back. Once he had emerged through the portal intact, he spread them open. He had a wingspan of perhaps sixteen feet. Licking flames surrounded his whole body ranging in color from pale yellow to orange to red.
“Whoa…cool,” said Corey.
Like Arianrhod, Llew floated above us all, about twenty feet in the air. He looked across the clearing and nodded to his mother.
Together they chanted, “On this day where there is an equal balance of light and dark, put your differences aside, break down the barriers, extinguish all hatred, ignore any suspicions, and let all of the children of the Creator live in harmony. Give thanks to the Earth and Sky! Let the earth come to life again, and welcome the light of spring!”
We bowed our heads to receive their blessing. Then the deities reversed their process and started to return to the heavenly realm. Llew had already gone; the sky welcomed him back with a stunning sunrise, but before Arianrhod could reach the portal, a petite woman blocked her path.
Madison stood defiantly and addressed the goddess directly. In her left hand she held a doll bed. In her right, she held the hideous Brideog poppet made in my image.
“Your Grace, as your devoted servant, I must inform you the most sacred laws of the clan have been broken!”
I heard a low growl at my side. “Oh…not this sherbet again…” a small part of my brain processed with pride that Corey’s voice was starting to change. Most of me had a sinking, bad feeling about this.
“You are impertinent, indeed. I hope for your sake you have proof of such an accusation.”
Madison held up the doll. “You have said once you meet a person, you remember their essence forever. Can you sense the human essences on this Brideog?”
The Queen of the Night held out delicate silvery hands and took the doll. She closed her violet eyes and pursed her lips. “I sense three human essences on this poppet. I sense yours, Madison McLoed,” she paused.
Madison replied without hesitation, “I manufacture the Brideog dolls for young maids seeking a husband.”
“I see,” mused the Queen. Then she declared, “I sense the essence of the young Healer, Margaret MacDougall.” The queen had used my official name, the one I would take if I became the Great Healer someday. She didn’t want to acknowledge that my mother had taken my father’s last name and had passed it on to me. All eyes stared at me.
“And I sense one other essence, of Evan Keach, the Great Seer of this clan!” She stared directly at him.
Gasps of horror and cries of shock echoed through the clearing. All eyes switched from me to Evan. It didn’t help that we’d been leaning on each other at the time.
“Arrest them!” she cried.
Madison grinned like the cat that ate the canary.
Deputy Jimmy Wallace and another person who looked a lot like him approached us through the crowd. Jimmy took my hand and helped me stand. The other guy did the same thing with Evan. Jimmy didn’t physically restrain me, but his posture told me everything I needed to know. I was his prisoner. I saw more movement in the crowd. The judge had reached the Queen. He addressed her directly.
“Your Grace, by the laws of our clan, an investigation must be held to determine the guilt or innocence of the accused. Once proven guilty, punishment will be decided by the High Council.” He’d said once proven guilty, not if proven guilty. I was screwed. The Queen looked like she wanted to object and I had a flashback of the Queen of Hearts screaming, ‘Off with her head!’
Arianrhod relented when Paul Sinclair emphasized, “The process of justice is the most sacred law of the clan. How can we enforce any other laws if we don’t obey that one?”
She nodded. “See that it’s done. I want the investigation completed in one week’s time.” She looked directly at Fiona, who tacitly agreed with a sharp nod. Then the Queen of the Night disappeared through the archway and the judge told Jimmy, “Put them under house arrest.” He sounded sad.
Chapter Twenty-Five
All the Queen’s Spies
I lay on my bed, bored senseless, and counted the number of tiny flowers in the calico print on one square of my quilt. I’d already counted the number of flowers in five other squares. I’d read everything in my bedroom, done all of my homework and checked it twice, listened to the playlist on my MP3 player until I wanted to scream, and ran through my forms until I was sore.
The High Council, sans Evan, had been in a meeting for hours. It felt more like they’d been cloistered for days. Deputy Jimmy sat in a chair outside my bedroom door. He’d apologized several times, but he only let me out to go to the bathroom. After all, he shrugged, orders were orders.
I’m innocent. If I’d known we’d be punished whether any crime was committed or not, I would have thrown myself at Evan a long time ago. If we’d known we’d be falsely accused, I never would have dated Steve. Evan never would’ve let me. Groaning, I rolled over on my back to look up at the ceiling, remembering the Hogmanay kiss. Why did I walk away? I firmly pushed these thoughts from my mind and glanced guiltily toward my guard, but Jimmy had disappeared.
Instead, Fiona stared at me, tight-lipped and grim-faced.
I sat up dutifully.
“Come downstairs, we need a family meeting.”
I followed her silently.
***
Rose and Corey already sat on the couch. I joined them. Rose grasped my hand in a gesture of support. Corey slouched across the coffee table from us in an easy chair, scowling.
Fiona perched on the end of her own chair and took a deep breath. “Okay, Maggie, before we start, can you tell us, in your own words, what you think happened?”
“Nothing happened!” I cried out with my arms stretched out wide.
“We know that, Maggie,” said Rose sympathetically, “it’s painfully obvious to all of us how you and Evan are not a couple.”
“Intimacy is not the issue under question,” interrupted Fiona.
I looked at her, surprised.
She continued, “Tell us what you know about the Brideog.”
“Oh…that,” I tried to remember the events preceding Imbolc. “Well…I remember I went to the store the day before Imbolc. I saw these dolls on the jewelry counter, so I took a look at them. Madison said they were for little girls or something like that. I picked one up to marvel at the craftsmanship, and then put it back down on the counter.”
“Can you remember exactly for whom Madison said she made the dolls?” Fiona coaxed.
I tried harder to remember. “I think she said they were for the young maids in the clan, or something like that.”
Rose and Fiona exchanged a meaningful glance.
“What happened to the doll you touched?”
“Oh, I remember,” I gasped, “As I left the store, she picked it up and put it behind the counter.”
“Did the doll look like you?” Fiona asked.
“No, the doll I touched had blond hair and blue eyes, I remember that much.”
“What happened next?”
“The next day, Evan walked into the kitchen carrying the doll in a toy bed, which I didn’t recognize. He said it had been left on the front porch. He assumed I’d left it and he teased me. I yelled at him because it wasn’t mine, and made him throw it out in the backyard. That’s the last I saw of it.”
Fiona sat back in her chair. “Does anyone know how the doll got from the backyard into Madison’s hands?” Heads all around the room shook back and forth.
“Okay,” Fiona said, “here’s the deal. The High Council wanted an independent party to run the investigation into Madison’s allegations that you broke clan law when you invoked the blessing of Brighid on your relationship with Evan, but we can�
��t just ask anyone to do it, or the existence of magic might be revealed to Romans, so Paul asked his daughter to return to the clan and act as the independent investigator. She’s a prosecutor in Baltimore now. She’s been gone a while and isn’t friends with you, Evan or Madison, so the council agreed. She’s on her way out here now, will spend one week completing her investigation and reporting back to the council.
At that time, five council members will sit in judgment of the allegations. Evan can’t judge the case for obvious reasons and I’ve excused myself since I’m related to you. Unless you can find a witness who saw her planting the doll on your porch, or make her confess, than it will come down to your word against hers.”
“What can I do?” I asked, hoping something I could offer would help the investigation.
“I’m afraid you can’t help in your own defense. You and Evan are still under house arrest until this ends. You’ll be tutored in the evenings at home so you won’t fall behind in your classes, but that’s it…any questions?”
“No,” I said dejectedly. Then I had a thought. “Wait…can I talk on the phone?”
“To whom would you wish to talk?” she looked surprised at my request.
Corey answered for me. “She wants to make sure he’s okay.”
I nodded.
“Oh,” mused Fiona. “I’ll make a request to the council on your behalf, but I don’t see why not.”
***
While we had our family meeting in the living room, Deputy Jimmy got a much needed break from guard duty. We found him grabbing coffee and a meal with Ginger and Rock. Fiona started discussing the plans for the coming week with him and I was told to return to my room. Once there, I started running through my forms.
Jimmy nodded in my direction when he noticed me working out. “You’re really good.”
I smiled and showed him my routine. Soon I had him learning some beginner Tai Chi forms. He’d studied some martial arts in the military and was surprised to find out how similar the forms were to the more aggressive disciplines of Kung Fu. “The moves are the same, but you do them slowly,” he noted.
