by Allie Mackay
“I’d love to, but my work…”
“Have you ne’er heard how many ghosts haunt Scottish castles? Or roam our battlefields and glens?” His words made her heart pound, let her feel buoyant with hope. “I’ll speak with your employer, present him with an opportunity he couldn’t secure on his own.
“Your kind of work is cut out for you here.” He lifted her hand to his lips, kissing her fingers. “If you’ll give it a go.”
“I…” She bit her lip, considering.
Jock grinned at her, his tongue lolling. It was a look she couldn’t refuse. As for the expression on his master’s face…
“Oh, Graeme…” She threw her arms around his neck, clinging to him. “I can’t think of anything I’d love more. Yes, yes—a thousand times yes!”
“Then let me kiss you, Kendra, lass.” He took her face in his hands and did just that, kissing her long and deep as the night wind whistled past them, and the great North Sea breakers crashed against the shore.
Epilogue
The Keel
Pennard, Scotland
Several months later
“It’s stopped raining.”
Kendra jumped at Saami’s familiar voice, almost dropping the dinner plate she’d been about to dip into a dishpan of steaming, soapy water. Graeme’s kitchen didn’t boast a dishwasher. And in the bliss-filled months since she’d moved in with him, the cottage also hadn’t been visited by a single ghost.
That dry spell included the three spirits who acted as her guides.
Yet they were here now.
Saami perched on the edge of the big oak table. Raziel leaned against the counter less than a foot away from her. And Ordo had struck a manly pose near the hutch, legs spread and arms crossed. They all looked at her expectantly, as if they expected praise.
“What are you doing here?” Kendra kept her voice lowered, not wanting Graeme to hear.
He sat in the cottage’s best room with Jock, poring over the strange symbols and weird texts of his Grimoire, as he did every night. The spell he’d hoped would allow him to destroy the Shadow Wand had failed. And he’d been trying to find the right one ever since.
“We came because you wouldn’t have noticed how clear the night is otherwise.” Saami produced an apple and took a bite, her dark eyes knowing as she flicked a glance at the door to the hallway. “How can you with a man like Graeme in the next room, waiting to ravish you?”
Raziel sent her a glacial look. “We came for more reasons than the cessation of rain.”
Kendra glanced at the window, only now noting how the harbor gleamed in the moonlight, the earlier drizzle no longer spoiling her view.
She blinked for a moment, not trusting her eyes. It’d rained every day and night since the fateful evening on the cliffs at Castle Grath when Gavin Ramsay had plunged to his death.
She’d begun to think it always rained in Scotland.
And her spirit guides weren’t kind enough to pop by just to remind her there was such a thing as a rainless night. Raziel had said as much.
Kendra turned to him now, not intimidated by his powerful presence. “Why are you here? I know you’ll have a message. You wouldn’t appear otherwise.”
“Could be we wished to talk sense into that man of yours.” Ordo strode forward, his blue eyes flashing. “Has he told you he loves you? Asked you to be his wife? Instead he keeps silent, grieving over seventy-five years—”
“Be still, you fool.” Raziel’s tone could’ve frozen ice. “It is not our place to reveal secrets. Kendra”—he glanced at her, his voice less severe—“will know the significance of the night’s clarity, just as she will follow her heart when we tell her to watch the ground.”
“The ground?” Kendra set down the plate she’d been holding. “Can’t you tell me more than that?”
But she found herself speaking to air.
Her spirit guides were gone.
She saw why at once, her gaze snapping to the kitchen door, where Graeme and Jock stood watching her. Jock looked excited, as if he, too, had noticed that rain no longer spattered the roof and windows. Graeme’s expression was guarded. His glance at the window hinted why the clear night mattered.
How could she have forgotten?
She’d told him it was sometimes difficult to see spirits in misting rain. Depending on how they chose to manifest, some could appear as whisper-thin as a breath. Such a soul would be even harder to spot in the kind of weather they’d had these last months.
And even if Graeme found the right spell to obliterate the Shadow Wand, he hadn’t wanted to risk Kendra not being able to see the fleeing spirits.
Destroying the relic was crucial.
But so was ensuring that no long-trapped souls lingered, too confused after so many centuries of confinement to know how to seek true peace.
Kendra could help them.
But she needed a clear night to do so.
“I think I’ve finally found the magic we need.” Graeme stepped into the kitchen, his dog right beside him. “It’s a conjuration using the names of many saints and gods, a few ancient words powerful enough to control and break the darkest evil.”
“Oh, Graeme!” Kendra dried her hands, hurried over to him. “Did you just come across the spell?”
He shook his head. “I stumbled upon it a while ago. The answer was encoded inside a palindrome, a word square I’d been eyeing for years.” He reached for her, pulling her into his arms. “Now I believe I’d cracked its secrets. I’ve spent the last weeks memorizing the spell. It’s too dangerous to risk speaking one wrong letter.”
Kendra looked at him, the implication of his words making her heart leap.
Now she knew why he’d gone so quiet in recent times. She’d worried he’d decided they weren’t good for each other and that he was just biding time to say so. She glanced past him, across the darkened hall into the best room, where the fire glow fell across the leather-tooled cover of the Book of Shadows, lying closed on the sofa.
Kendra shivered, looking back to Graeme. “You’ve seen that the rain’s stopped.”
He nodded. “I noticed at once. It’s time, lass. Let’s put this to rest, if we can.”
Jock barked and bounded down the narrow hall that led to the front of the house. Kendra and Graeme followed the dog to the door.
“I must warn you, the spell doesn’t say what happens to its caster after the magic is worked.” Graeme glanced at her as he reached for the latch. “There will be a price, even if things go well.”
“Yet you’re going to do it.” Kendra knew there was no stopping him. She touched his jaw, stroking. “You’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time.” She hoped only she heard the tremor in her voice.
“Longer than you know.” His eyes glinted in the hall’s dimness. Then he opened the door, taking her hand as they stepped out into the cold, starlit night.
Chill wind blew in from the sea, and the air smelled of wet earth swept down from the cliffs by all the recent rain. The stone pathway along the side of the house was thick with mud. A morass that didn’t bother Jock as he leapt away from them, streaking toward Graeme’s barrel shed and the soaring rock face behind the cottage.
“I’m sorry about the mud, sweet.” Graeme glanced at her. “I’d carry you to spare your shoes, but I must begin the incantations now and will need all my concentration. I’ll buy you new shoes when this is over.”
“I don’t care about shoes.” She didn’t, starting forward down the path, the mud squelching up around her feet. “What’s a bit of muck, anyway?”
I love you, Kendra. More than you know.
She froze after only a few paces, not sure she’d heard him say the words she’d waited so long to hear. When she glanced over her shoulder, she couldn’t tell, because he’d closed his eyes and lifted his arms in the air, chanting words in a strange language that sounded more ancient—and unsettling—than anything she’d ever heard.
She knew not to inter
rupt him.
She shut her own eyes for a moment, summoning the protective white-light energy that was her psychic defense. She also asked her spirit guides, and all the powers, to watch over her, Graeme, and Jock.
It was all she could do.
That, and watch for the poor souls Graeme hoped to free from his family’s relic.
If they came, she’d use her gift to give them the warmth, love, and encouragement they’d need to seek the peace and rest they’d been denied so long.
Then Graeme was beside her, his face grim as he took her hand, leading her down the rest of the path to its end before the cliff.
A small space opened there, littered with mud and bits of debris that had washed down in the autumnal torrents. His coat full of muck now, Jock prowled back and forth along the foot of the cliff. The dog’s hackles were lifted, his low growls proving he understood what lurked inside the dark crack visible in the rock face.
Kendra bit her lip, a surge of unease sweeping her.
She glanced at Graeme, but he didn’t even seem to know she was there. He was speaking faster now, repeating the same words again and again, his eyes almost shining as he moved forward to stand only inches away from the bluff. Intent on the spell, he placed his hands on either side of the fissure, splaying his fingers against the rock.
It was then that Kendra saw his eyes weren’t the only thing glowing.
An eerie blue light was beginning to stream out from beneath his hands to ripple up and down the crack in the cliff. As she watched, the light spread, slowly covering the entire bluff in a brilliant, otherworldly sapphire shade that reminded her of Raziel’s eyes.
And still Graeme spoke the words of power, his voice rising, echoing in the narrow space.
Nothing else happened.
Kendra didn’t move, aware only that Jock had stopped patrolling the cliff base and now stood guard before her. A sentinel who, in the weird lighting, appeared to have grown much larger and fiercer.
Then a low rumbling began deep inside the bluff, a sound that reminded Kendra of an earthquake. Only unlike any natural disasters unleashed by nature, shrill howling accompanied the grinding of stone. Thin, hollow wails that rose to fill the heavens and pierce Kendra’s heart, for she recognized what they were: the cries of souls.
Her chest tightened as her pulse quickened, her heart thundering in sympathy. The earth began to tremble, and around the fissure the blue light that had spread from Graeme’s hands began to spark with color. Dazzling shades that glittered, dancing along the crack and then showering upward into the air. In an eye blink, a kaleidoscope of brilliance rushed from the cliff, spinning quickly into a multicolored vortex of whirling mist.
Kendra saw more.
She saw a legion of souls—men, women, and children, even babes in arms. Their number was beyond counting. And their forms—always diverse—ranged from full-bodied to the barely there wisps she’d worried she’d not be able to see if they’d attempted the spell on a night of rain and mist. She didn’t miss any soul now.
They were everywhere, so many that she couldn’t even see Graeme through their number.
But she heard him, his deep voice a comfort as her own work began to drain her.
She’d never faced so many spirits at once.
Their pull on her energy dizzied her, making her light-headed.
But she ignored the discomfort, focusing harder than she’d ever done in her life. She cast her powers as strongly as she could, letting all her energy greet them, thanking them for their earthly lives and wishing them well in their new ones, as freed souls able to live and breathe again in the Otherworld, of course.
Then it was over.
The souls speeding away toward the sea, their glowing flight fading to nothingness even before they’d reached the far side of the bay.
At the rock face, Graeme lowered his hands, stepping back as the cliff’s low rumbling ended on a hard, jarring thud as the fissure closed.
“Kendra!” He sprinted over to her. “We did it! Did you see the souls? I heard them and felt their passing, but”—he shoved back his hair, panting—“did you see them? Have they gone from here?”
“Yes…” She slumped to her knees, her legs too weak to hold her. “They’ve left. Every last one of them, and they’re happy, Graeme. I felt their joy so powerfully, it took my breath.”
“Thank the gods.” Graeme helped her stand, pulled her fast against him. “And bless you for coming here and helping them, helping me. I couldn’t have done this without you, not with such splendid results.”
Kendra pulled back, remembering something he’d said earlier. “Then you’re okay?” She scanned his face, looking for some sign that the spell had damaged him, claiming payment. “Nothing has happened to you?”
Beside her, Jock barked, lending his concern.
Graeme shrugged, reaching down to ruffle Jock’s ears. “I cannae say, honestly. I feel no different from before. But you’re right. No magic is worked without a price.” His expression turned serious and he drew her close again, wrapping his arms around her. “As long as you and Jock are okay, nothing else matters.”
“That’s not true.” Kendra leaned her head against his shoulder, relief flooding her to hear the steady beat of his heart. “To me, all that counts is knowing the two of you are safe.”
“Aye, well, we are.” He kissed the top of her head, smoothed his knuckles along her cheek. “Jock and I always survive. We—”
“Seventy-five years,” Kendra blurted Ordo’s quip, the comment that had earned him a reprimand from Raziel. “The number just came to me.” She didn’t mention the Viking spirit guide. “Does being a Guardian mean you aren’t immortal but have a set life span of seventy-five years? Are you then visited by a replacement, taken away so he can begin his own term?”
It was the only thing she could think of.
She knew she was close when Graeme frowned.
“Och, Kendra…” He released her, paced a few feet, and then turned back around. “I didn’t want to worry you. My life span is seven hundred years and a day. And of those years, I have seventy-five remaining.
“Now you know why I’ve been so quiet lately.” His voice thickened, his eyes darkening with regret. “I haven’t known how to tell you. It’s also why I can’t marry you. I’ve vowed to be the last MacGrath. I’ll not leave an heir to suffer the overlong life I’ve had to live.”
“But you do live.” Kendra went to him, gripping his hands. “We can be together for all the time we have. Believe me”—she hoped he would—“I’ve seen and learned enough through my work not to be surprised by your specialness, or to let it come between us.”
“I wouldn’t call my guardianship special. And I’ve cursed its burden more than I’ve welcomed it.” He looked up at the night sky, drew a long breath. “I live with it, but have despised its accompaniments. Do you recall asking me why I didn’t leave footsteps at Balmedie?”
Kendra nodded, not following him.
“That’s one of the benefits of being a Guardian.” He made it sound anything but. “We can walk through the night and no one can trace our passing.”
Kendra frowned, remembering how she’d puzzled about the trackless sand.
She also remembered Raziel’s urging her to watch the ground. His meaning—if she was right—made her heart leap, hope surging through her. Breaking away from Graeme, she took a deep breath and then turned, looking back the way they’d come.
Moonlight shone down the narrow path beside the house, illuminating the muddied stone flags. And revealing three sets of footsteps: her own, Jock’s, and Graeme’s.
Somewhere close by, she caught Raziel’s faint huff of approval as the implication slammed through her.
“Oh, Graeme!” She dashed back to him, pulling him away from the rock face and toward the path. “Look there!” She pointed, her hand trembling as she indicated the evidence. “Your footprints are in the mud, right alongside my own and Jock�
��s.”
“They can’t be.” He looked at her, disbelieving until he followed her outstretched arm, his jaw dropping. “Great gods!” His voice shook, his beautiful dark eyes misting. “The payment of the spell must’ve been my immortality. It must’ve been taken from me when I began the incantation. As if I’d regret the loss!”
He whipped around, grabbing her and lifting her in the air, spinning her in a circle. “Sweet lass, do you know what this means?”
“I hope so.” Kendra laughed, almost dizzy as he whirled her. Jock joined in, racing madly around them. “I’m thinking it has something to do with making an honest woman of me?”
“It does, sweet. It does.” Setting her down, he took her face in his hands, kissing her hard and deep.
And she returned his kiss as soundly. She tangled her fingers in his hair and held him fast, knowing she’d never let him go.
Not Graeme or his dog, whose loud and happy barking made further conversation impossible.
It didn’t matter.
She had her answer already.
Graeme loved her and he’d make a proper proposal soon, maybe even that night. Her sixth sense told her it’d be perfect in every way, a moment filled with hope, wonder, and romance. And, she was sure, with Jock having a starring role in the proceedings.
She wouldn’t want it any other way.
She did sigh as Graeme drew her closer into his arms.
Someday she’d also thank Zack and Scotland’s Past for sending her to Pennard. But first she leaned into Graeme’s embrace, her heart swelling with more joy than she would’ve believed possible.
Then Graeme swept her up in his arms and carried her back along the path to his cottage. Jock went with them, his step light and his tail wagging.
Life was good in Pennard.
Long may it be so.
Turn the page for a glimpse of
SOME LIKE IT KILTED
by Allie Mackay
Available from Signet Eclipse.
