Celtic Fire: Book One of the Guardian Series

by S Lawrence

  Chapter 10

  Twelve hours and I leave for the airport. Emma is driving me, of course. She is currently digging through my suitcase questioning my need for the Highlander books by Karen Marie Moning. Books, she is pointing out, that are falling apart because I have read them so much. What can I say, I love me some time traveling highlanders.

  “You don’t need these. You are going to be meeting ACTUAL highlanders.” She is looking at me with that look; you know the one best friends give you that says you’re being crazy.

  “Listen! First of all, you know they will be nowhere near the Highlander those MacKeltars are and second of all, I am going to find out about my mom and dad, not finding myself a Highlander.” I retort, stating the obvious.

  “Fine, but really, you aren’t going to need them.” She shoves them back into the suitcase, rolling her eyes. “Besides, you could take your tablet and save the room. “

  “I could but I just like the feel of a book in my hand sometimes.” I shrug.

  I have my checklist, the one that makes sure everything is ready to go, and I scroll through it, checking things off. Everything is checked except one thing. The old man. Damn! I really needed to see him! I went back to Jackson Square, every weekend for the last three months and I never saw him again. It’s weird and a little crazy because I know he had something to tell me. I am so frustrated because I still have no idea what scar is and if I’m supposed to beware of it or them. For God’s sake, I should at least know what I am watching out for.

  “What are you mumbling about over there?” Emma is looking at me with one eyebrow raised.

  “Just talking to myself about the old man. I’m frustrated I didn’t get to find out what he said or what he wanted to tell me.”

  “Oooo...what if the SCAR got him?” she says dramatically.

  “THE scar huh? Well, we don’t even know what THE scar is or even if it is a scar. Although, in my head, I have been calling it that and kinda adding the dum dum dum after.”

  “Oh my God, that’s too funny! I have been saying it like Jim Carrey; you know...‘The CLAW’.” Emma comes at me with her hands raised, and we both start cracking up.

  The packing is done and Emma and I have been talking for hours. We are laying on my bed; I guess we didn’t really want to be apart. You’d think I was leaving forever, instead of a few weeks. Other than a few family trips, this will be the longest we have ever gone without seeing each other.

  Suddenly, the alarm is going off; I guess we fell asleep. I open my eyes and there she is, smiling. “Today is the day. Are you ready?”

  I nod my head as I roll over. Stretching, we both get up and head to our showers. Before long, we are out the door, but first, I give Fergus a hug, breathing deep the smell of sweet feed. “Don’t worry, I am gonna check on him every few days,” Emma promised.

  “I know.”

  Across the lake, we drive to the airport. Emma parks, coming in with me, per usual. I hang around as long as I can before going through the security checks. As we hug one last time, we both have tears in our eyes.

  “No crying,” Emma said, as she tries to pull herself together. “This is you finding your destiny. I can feel it. Conall is right. Go find your magic like your momma did.”

  “Okay, yeah, you are right. Destiny and all that shit. I’m going to find my fucking dad! Well, or at least what happened to him!” I giggle and totally ruin the effect. One last hug. “I’ll call you when I get to New York.”

  “You better. I love you!”

  “Love you too.”

  I look back after I get through security, and she is still there, waving like a crazy person. I wave back and point to my shirt; it says Thelma. She points to hers; it says Louise. We both turn and walk away. Man, I’m going to miss her.

  The plane is taxiing out as I pull The Immortal Highlander from my bag. It is the only Highlander book of Karen Marie Moning’s I haven’t read. I couldn’t find it for the longest time and then there it was, last weekend, at the used bookstore. I settle in, leaning against the wall of the plane and start reading. As soon as I am allowed, I put my earbuds in, listen to the Suicide Squad soundtrack, lost in the music and the story. I catch myself laughing out loud at some of the funny parts, and the man beside me keeps looking at me, I just smile back at him. Before you know it, the plane is descending into JFK. As soon as I am off and wandering towards the smell of coffee, I call Emma. We talk for a bit while I am waiting in line at Starbucks. I only have 45 minutes before my next flight, so I let her go to find out what terminal to head towards. Aer Lingus is all the way on the other side. I mumble, of course to myself, before heading that way. I get to my gate with twenty minutes to spare, so I find an outlet and charge my phone, thinking I should see if the store across the way has one of those charge things that you don’t have to plug in, just in case. Soon, they start calling for boarding. The whole twenty minutes I had sat staring, lost in thought, worrying if I had packed everything I needed. I roll my eyes at myself as if there aren’t stores in Scotland. Jesus! Settle Aislin. Soon, we are in the air, and I have my book and music back. I read fast, like really fast so that in no time, I am bawling my eyes out. It isn’t until I am in the airport at Glasgow and people are looking at me, that I realize my mascara has run down my face and I look like a crazy person. I quickly head to the bathroom and start laughing at the mess that is me, always me. I take a quick selfie before I wash up and start to fix my face. After I send Emma a text with the picture saying ‘always remember to check your face after reading a sappy romance. I am on the ground. I will call you when I get to the hotel’. Oops! I sent it before I remember the time change. I head to baggage claim to wait for my bag, while also looking for the car rental place. The guy had said he would meet me outside. When I see my name on a sign, I head in that direction. His name is Mark, and inside, I was a little disappointed my first encounter with a Scottish person and his name is MARK. But, like a proper Southern girl, I smile. As we talk, we realize we are both having a hard time understand the accents. When we get to the car, I go to get in, and he says he’ll drive to the office. It is then I remember the steering wheel is on the passenger side, I mean I knew that but I still, out of habit, tried to get in on the wrong side. This is going to be very interesting. After signing the paperwork and getting a map, I am sitting in the car preparing myself. I can see Mark watching through the window, and I wave with confidence, that I am not quite sure I am feeling.

  “Okay, girl. You are going to have to just go, just pull out and start driving on the wrong side of the road. Just do it.” Slowly, and I mean creeping, I ease out. Somehow, I make it to the hotel in Edinburgh, white knuckling it the entire way. I am pretty sure my arms are going to be sore tomorrow. I shoot Emma, Grandda and Aunt Joy a message, letting them know I made it to the hotel. I lay down, staring at the ceiling, I probably should nap. I want to go out later to a pub like mom did. My mind builds a story of meeting someone at the pub, as I drift off, dreaming of highland warriors.

  Chapter 11

  I startle awake. My heart pounding, I look around to check the room, feeling as if someone is watching me, but of course, no one is there. I rub my face, blinking a few times, trying to calm myself down. Inhaling a deep breath, I shake my head and blow it out. I grab my phone checking the time. It is six o’clock already, which means I slept two hours. Standing, I head to the bathroom but stop dead in my tracks as I pass the window. I can see a castle; an actual castle lit up for the night. Slowly, a Cheshire-type grin spreads across my face. “I am in Scotland,” I whisper, breaking into the worst Irish gig known to man. I can feel Emma cringing from here. Bounding into the bathroom, I take, what could be the fastest shower ever and quickly get dressed. I feel like I am floating as I head downstairs, just beaming. I ask the clerk if she can recommend a good place to eat and possibly a nice pub, for music after. I’m directed to The Three Sisters, which I find funny, since I love The Court of Two Sisters at home. As I approach, I can see it is busy
, but I make my way to the bar and order a drink. I lean back, out from the shoulders of others, to look around. As I wait, I see I’m getting a little male attention. I’ll admit, I did pick my cutest skirt and a top that shows off my girls a little bit. I always figured since I wasn’t tiny I have to accentuate the positives. I am a solid ten and when I say that, I mean that’s my pant size, I am a true hourglass, hip and boobs with a small waist. It took me, well, let’s say a few years to get over my jealousy of Emma’s dancer's body. I had to learn to love myself.

  “Your drink, beautiful.”

  I turn back around to see the bartender smiling at me. I smiled back, “Thank you. Is it easier to just order here or try to get a table, you think?”

  “Och, it is mighty busy tonight. Got a stag do coming in in a bit but you grab a stool, and I’ll take care of ye. My name is Connor.”

  Of course, it is. Connor with the dreamy accent and cute face. “Thanks Connor! I’ll take a seat. I’m Aislin.”

  “And a beautiful name too,” he winks, walking over to help another customer. Looking back, he catches me checking out the view. I chuckle and move to find an available stool. I think about the ‘beautiful’ comment as I sip my whiskey. I’m not beautiful...don’t get me wrong, I don’t think I am hideous or anything. I have great skin and hair but put it all together, and I don’t see beautiful. I’ve never thought I was the girl you stop to look at a second time as you walk by. Emma would argue that I am crazy and has before. Thinking of Emma, I pull out my phone, calling her. She answers on the first ring, I squeal just a little, getting weird looks from those sitting closest to me. “Oh my God! I’m so glad you called. How’s it going so far? Where are you? You look great.” Emma is exploding with questions.

  I start laughing and say, “You have to let me talk if you want me to answer any of that.”

  “So talk!”

  I do, of course. I tell her about the hotel, about driving - which had us both in tears. I showed her around the pub, covertly letting her check out Connor; which she was very pleased with and then we just talked.

  “I see you are wearing the bracelet,” she noted.

  “Yeah, it felt right, ya know. I just don’t know how to describe it.”

  “Don’t worry, I get it,” And she really, truly does. I can see dance moms bringing their kids in, through the window of her office, while we talk.

  “Well, I will let you go. I am going to order something to eat and listen to some music. There is supposed to be a good band here tonight. I love you, and I wish you were here with me.”

  “Oh, I love you so much. I am not sure Connor could handle us both being there,” she’s cracking herself up. “Have fun and call me soon.”

  “I will. Bye.” I hung up and look down, laying my phone on the bar.

  “Did I hear my name, lass?” Conner says, moving closer.

  Looking up, I couldn’t help but smile at the amount of swagger showing on his face. “I guess maybe you did. My friend says ‘Hi!’” He chuckles and asks if he can get me anything. I go ahead and order my food with a beer; I am still sipping my whiskey.

  Have you ever been watched? Like maybe you are doing something, and you just get that feeling? The one where instinctively you know someone is looking at you so you look up and they actually are? Yeah, I have that right now. I look around the bar and while I see a few guys looking my way, I can tell this feeling isn’t coming from them. I turn around on the stool and still, I can’t see anyone that would be causing this weird feeling.

  “Is someone meeting you here?” Connor is in front of me, his gaze moving around the bar.

  “Ummm, no...I just, well it is silly, really. I just felt like someone was watching me.”

  “Plenty lads are, my girl.” His eyes move over the crowd again. “Don’t worry I’ll keep an eye out for ya. Me mam raised me right.”

  I can feel my heart melting a little. Man, I am a sucker for boys who love their momma’s. As he goes to help other customers, I look around again, not quite shaking the feeling. My food is put in front of me by a waitress in just a couple of minutes, and I devour it. I mean this wasn’t anything I learned in etiquette school, but it was so good. Apparently, I had been starving. I can see the band getting ready, and I can feel my excitement. Growing up in New Orleans gives you a deep love of music. I have music for every big moment in my life. The Pogues are for momma; Papa Roach is for Grandmother, Grandda is a mix of “Galway Girl” and great New Orleans Jazz. I hope this band plays something that will be my anthem for this trip. They begin to play, going through the crowd favorites. People are singing, laughing and dancing. I get up, taking my beer and move in closer trying to see. The band is calling up a new singer. Apparently he sings with them whenever he is around. I can’t see him but when he speaks, his voice is low and smoky, and it moves through me and settles right in my core. I take a shaky breath, hold it in, waiting for the song to begin. My head comes up slowly as I hear the first few notes of Flogging Molly’s “If I Ever Leave this World Behind.” They have slowed it down some, and with his voice, it seems almost otherworldly. And there it is...my anthem for this trip. I raise on my tiptoes to see over the crowd, and I can just see the top of his head, covered in wavy copper hair. As the song ends, the crowd erupts into cheering. I am shoving my way forward, but by the time I get close to the stage, he is gone. I turn a circle, looking for him, although all I really have to go on is copper hair...copper hair in Scotland. So basically, I really don’t have anything to go on. I mope my way back to the bar. Connor has placed another beer at my seat. I raise it toward him in thanks, as I begin to take a deep swig. “See, I told ya I’d take care of ye.”

  “Connor, who was that guy singing the last song?” I ask trying to be subtle.

  “Och, me heart! You’re breaking it. Don’t tell me that ye go for the singers?” Dramatically, he clutches his chest, and I can’t help but laugh at his antics.

  “I don’t go for singers, but his voice was magical.” I give him a besotted look, then ruin it with a giggle.

  “Fine. I will tell ye what I know, which is basically nothing. His name is Kai, and he is from somewhere north,” he answers vaguely.

  I wait for more, but he just stands there looking at me, obviously somewhat pleased. “That’s it!? Kai and somewhere north? That’s every bit of information you have?”

  “Yep, that and I saw him leave right after that song,” he answers with a grin.

  I can’t stop my head from whipping to the door, eyes scanning the street outside the window. Disappointment rushes through me. “Oh well. I just wanted to thank him for giving me my theme song for the trip.”

  Connor shakes his head, a confused look on his face and goes to help a customer that is yelling for drinks. I check the time, realizing it is already ten o’clock. I sit drinking my beer, replaying the song in my head. Smiling, I grab my phone and download it on iTunes, knowing I will play it hundreds of times as I travel. I think of mom and Aunt Joy flirting, having fun in a place just like this and suddenly, I wish Emma was here. I wave Connor over and thank him, pay my tab as he tells me to be careful, with a concerned look. I lean over the bar kissing his cheek. He stands smiling, as I turn for the door, winking at him over my shoulder. I step out into the night, walking towards the castle in the distance. I plan to wander the city tomorrow, but I have to see the castle at night. My mind starts to make up a story of a knight with copper hair. Soon, I am in the park just below the castle. Having been lost in my epic tale, I am not even sure how I got here, but I sit on a bench, soaking it all in. Abruptly, the feeling of being watched comes over me again, but now I am alone in the night. I stand quickly, taking a quick glance around. One thing you learn growing up in New Orleans is to not look afraid; you must ooze confidence and walk like you have a purpose. And so I do, heading back toward the hotel, moving briskly but not like a scared rabbit. I don’t stop until I am safely in my room. Locking the door, I lean back, feeling my heart pound, as the adrenaline fades,
I start to get a little shaky. Turning on the lights, I walk to the bed. Now that I am here, I feel silly, so I grab my pajamas and change. After I brush my teeth, I go look out the window, checking, just in case. Seeing no movie villain leaning against a pole on the darken sidewalk, I let go of the curtains. “You are losing it, girl, I mean bless your heart, but you are going crazy.” The curtains fall in place as I turn. Shaking my head, I grab some snacks, soda and balance mom’s journal on top as I walk toward the bed. I am going to reread mom’s first days in Scotland. Climbing onto the bed, the journal falls to the floor, and I see a page float out sliding under the bed. I throw my stuff down scrambling to the floor, wedging myself as far under the bed as my boobs will allow. Stretching, reaching, I can just barely get a fingertip on the page. I edge it to me at a snail’s pace. Finally, it is close enough for me to get ahold of it, I pull it to me. As soon as the light hits it, I can see my mom’s handwriting; I clutch it to my chest. I pull my knees up and lean back against the bed, slowly unfolding it. It’s another letter, the handwriting is shaky, and as I scan the date, I realize she wrote this one just a few days before she died. It must have been folded between one of the blank pages.

  My Beautiful Girl,

  When you read this, you will be a woman, and I will have been gone a long while. I know I only have a few days left and even though I am not scared, I am so heartbroken that I will not see you grow up. I know Joy is sending you to Scotland and I know that if you read the journal you have questions. I hope you find some answers in the land that I loved. I look at you, and I can already see your father, his strength and his bravery in you. I don’t know why he didn’t come for us, but I promise you that it was not his fault. He would have fought the gods themselves for us. Please do not judge him too harshly. There are things I didn’t write in the journal, things I couldn’t write for they are not my secrets to tell. I ask that you open your heart to this land and to him. Look for him at the stones. If it is within his power, he will find you there. Wear the bracelet, so he knows I sent you. Remember that I love you and I you need to go find your magic.