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Twice Upon a Soul

Page 15

by Deborah R Stigall


  “So, you’re saying that the Magnus I met today on the beach might be an ancestor of Laird Quinlan’s?” Taylor asked, settling back in her chair with frustration at the concept of yet another ghost. “Why can’t he just be a nice old man that’s maybe just a bit eccentric and too involved in the legends of the land?”

  Snapping the book shut, Drake scooted away from the table, shaking his head in consternation. “I was only sharing what I’d found with you, Taylor. You’re the one that brought up how unusual the man seemed. You’re the one who said he spoke as though he knew Quinlan personally and had in fact been sent to watch over you.”

  Realizing she had stung Drake’s feelings by not appreciating his find, Taylor circled the table to lay a consoling hand to his arm. “I’m sorry, Drake. I’m just tired and all of this tends to overwhelm me sometimes.”

  Standing a bit taller as though shrugging off the cold, Drake smiled forgivingly down at Taylor. “I think we’re all tired. I’m sorry I snapped at you.” Handing the book over to Taylor in acceptance of her apology, he offered, “Perhaps you’d like to read over it yourself. You might find something of interest."

  Accepting the book, Taylor smiled at Drake then turned to nod at Mattie. “I think I’m going to turn in…maybe read awhile,” she noted with a sigh.

  Drake and Mattie made their goodnights in unison, each of them turning to retire to their separate bedrooms.

  Taylor closed the door to her own bedroom, then gently laid the old book on the nightstand beside her bed. Donning her sweatpants and sleepshirt, she crawled beneath the downy quilt, propping herself against the headboard of the heavy four-posted bed. Stretching to get the book from the nightstand, Taylor stifled a small scream as she rolled back upon the pillows and found Quinlan sitting in the chair beside the window.

  “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” she snapped, whispering loudly so as not to alert Drake and Mattie.

  “A heart attack?” Quinlan frowned, folding his arms over his massive chest. Cocking his head to one side with interest, he leaned forward in the chair. “How might someone give a person a heart attack. It seems it would be far more effective to attack the person’s heart…with a sword or a knife perhaps?”

  Shaking her head in disbelief, Taylor covered her face with one hand. “Laird Macleod…It’s a figure of speech. What I meant was how can you be here and you really surprised me,” she muttered in exasperation.

  Understanding dawning on Quinlan’s face, he gestured toward the moonlight shining through the window. “’Tis almost time for the gateway ta’ open. As the time draws closer, ‘tis easier for my spirit to travel for just a bit while the moon shines upon the land.” His eyes returning to her face, his voice fell to almost a whisper. “Call me, Quinlan…m’love. ‘Tis the name ye called me when we were wed.”

  As he spoke, Taylor noticed Quinlan was not actually corporeal, but more of a translucent hologram. If she studied his form close enough, she could actually see right through him. Remembering his very physical presence on the riverbanks at Inverness, Taylor shook her head in confusion as she hugged her knees to her chest. “I-I’m s-sorry…Quinlan…I don’t remember that. I’m afraid this is all very confusing. You were…real…or solid…I guess…in Inverness. Can you tell me how you managed that?”

  Wrinkling his own brow in confusion, Quinlan gazed at Taylor thoughtfully. “I’m not sure exactly. I was watching ye in the reflecting pool, as I often do. When I saw that man…Chandler…take ye in his arms…I couldna’ bear the sight of it any longer. The Goddess Brighid herself must ha’ taken pity upon me…allowed me ta’ travel to ye with more presence…more of m’heart.” Rising from the chair to pace quietly across the floor, Quinlan continued trying to explain. “But the traveling came at no small price, it nearly cost me m’life. When I was returned to the other side, I was greatly weakened. If not for m’friend, Magnus and gifted Zelda…I dinna think I wouldha’ survived.”

  “But Magnus is here,” Taylor argued, trying to sort through all the unknown rules. Wondering to herself, how a wizened old man…or ghost…could strengthen another’s spirit.

  Smiling sadly as he finally sat upon the edge of the bed, Quinlan gently shook his head in disagreement. “Magnus has a way with the Furies…ye might say. They will forgive him more and allow him ta’ come and go as he pleases…’tis his right for the sacrifice he once made for the love of the land.”

  “What do you mean?” Taylor asked, leaning forward as she listened with interest.

  “Ye know of the scorched earth policy…the destruction of the trees,” Quinlan slowly began. At Taylor’s nod of recognition, he continued, “Magnus III was responsible for that raping of the land.”

  “Magnus did that?” Taylor was shocked. In her brief conversation with Magnus on the beach, she’d somehow gotten the feeling that he truly loved the Isle...to the point of considering the land almost holy.

  “Not the Magnus ye met today,” Quinlan contradicted. “His descendent…the heir to the land.”

  “What happened?” Taylor whispered, a chill traveling up her spine. If this story held true as most Scottish tales along these lines, she was positive the ending would be gruesome.

  “Magnus forfeited his soul ta’ return from the grave and stop the burning of the land,” Quinlan replied calmly. “Magnus III was forced to take Magnus’ place in the grave. For his love of the land and the sacrifice of his soul, Magnus is permitted to travel where he will…no matter the alignment of the gateways.”

  “What exactly do you mean by he forfeited his soul?” Taylor asked, cocking her head to one side as she swept her heavy golden tresses behind one ear.

  Staring down at his hands folded calmly in his lap; Quinlan’s mouth creased into a flat firm line as he carefully chose his words. “Magnus must forever wander across the dimensions as well as the planes beyond the gateways…his soul never to find rest or peace to return to what you or I might call heaven.”

  Taylor frowned as she slowly turned this fate over in her mind. “But he doesn’t suffer or feel pain…it’s not as though he’s been doomed to hell,” she reasoned quietly.

  Eyes narrowed as a humorless smile tauntingly played across his lips; Quinlan slowly shook his head in disagreement, trying to explain. “Ye dinna think Magnus suffers when he must watch everyone else eventually grow old and die? When he’s never allowed to stay too long in any one dimension…to settle down to find love or peaceful rest?”

  “Well,” Taylor argued, “Look how long you’ve been around to keep him company. How do you explain that?”

  Reaching out to encircle her face in his ghostly hands, Quinlan frowned, as he was unable to actually touch her. “All that has kept me around for this long…is the eventual promise of finally being with ma annsachd…my beloved. Lifetimes in the lands beyond the gateways may be longer…but they do inevitably come to an end.” Quinlan fell silent as he once again sadly stared down into his lap. The evening was growing older, the moonlight lessening and his spirit was becoming weak.

  Taylor opened the worn leather book at the page Drake had dog-eared, holding it out to Quinlan. “Is this your lineage…your clan?” she asked hesitantly, trying to get more information before Quinlan disappeared again.

  Glancing down at the pages, his eyes quickly traveling across the lines, Quinlan nodded sadly in recognition. “Aye…but m’own branch stopped. I left behind no son to be chieftain in m’place.”

  His form shimmering and fading slightly, Quinlan glanced out the window at the clouds racing across the brightly lit moon. “I must go back now…but I had ta’ speak with ye. These last few days seem an eternity since I know I’ll finally be with ye soon.”

  “I’m afraid…Quinlan,” Taylor whispered. “I’m afraid of what’s on the other side.” Her green eyes huge and forlorn in her pale face, her lips trembled as she spoke. Her ivory skin seemed almost translucent, her face shining in the moonlight.

  “I know lass,” Quinlan reassured her with a
smile. “But ‘twill be fine…I promise ye. Please dinna turn back now…ye’ve nearly reached the end of the journey.” He pleaded shamelessly with his words as well as with his eyes, his image growing dimmer with each passing moment.

  As Quinlan completely disappeared from view, Taylor looked up into the sky and whispered, “I’ll just be glad when this is all over…and we can finally go back home.”

  ~*~

  The next several days were uneventful, spent exploring the different sites on the Isle and discovering the rich culture of the people. The inhabitants of the Isle of Lewis were patient with the outsiders, chuckling with amusement whenever Drake, Mattie or Taylor attempted a phrase or two of Gaelic. The more they familiarized themselves with the land, the more Taylor felt that somehow she belonged to this mysterious Isle, a sense of having been there before always pulling at her emotions.

  Three days before Halloween, Taylor finally decided it was time she stopped avoiding the cold eerie Stones of Callanish II. Retrieving the car keys from the hook beside the door, Taylor’s voice quivered with anxiety as she announced her plans to Mattie and Drake. “I’m going for a drive. I think it’s time I finally took a look at the s-stones,” she stammered nervously.

  Glancing up from the taro cards spread across the kitchen table, Mattie frowned as she peered through the window at the sheets of rain pelting against the glass. “Why don’t you hold off until the weather clears just a bit?” Pointing to a card located out of her reach, Mattie nodded at Drake to flip it over. “Once the rain lets up, we can all go up and take a look around.”

  Shaking her head in disagreement as she pulled on her over-sized sweater and heavy raincoat, Taylor replied, “No…I need to go now…and I need to go alone.”

  Peering at her over the tops of his spectacles, Drake studied Taylor’s face intently. “Why now, Taylor?” he asked, frowning with concern.

  Pausing with her hand on the door latch, Taylor shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know…I just feel it’s something I have to do. I don’t know how to explain it.”

  Rising from the table, Mattie pulled a large thermos from the cabinet beneath the sink. Dropping a knotted cheesecloth full of herbs and tealeaves into the thermos, she proceeded to fill it with boiling water. Spinning the lid shut with a flourish, Mattie handed the thermos to Taylor. “Here…take this with you. It’ll help keep the chill off,” she instructed with a slight smile. “If you have to do this…then you have to do it. Don’t worry about it. Just listen to your heart.”

  Hugging her friend in thanks, Taylor accepted the thermos and stepped out into the rain. Pulling up the hood of her raincoat as she left the cozy croft, she splashed her way to the car, sliding thankfully into the dry interior as the wind pulled at her coat. Glancing up at the dull gray sky as she started the car, Taylor wondered if maybe she shouldn’t wait until after the weather had cleared. But something seemed to be tugging at her, insisting that she visit the megaliths, somehow it couldn’t wait. Sighing with resignation, she shook away her second thoughts as she carefully shifted the car into gear.

  She had a vague sense of foreboding, a melancholy that had seemed to settle over her soul. As she bumped along the roadway, Taylor tried her best to convince herself that it was merely the weather attributing to her depression. But no matter how much her conscious mind attempted to rationalize her emotions, Taylor knew deep within her heart that it was much more then just raindrops dampening her spirit.

  Sighting a large boulder beside the road, Taylor slowed the car as she watched for the signpost marking the small off road leading to Callanish II. Turning the car onto the side road, Taylor proceeded slowly, trying to reason this strange pulling she felt from this particular ring of stones. The other megalithic stones dotting the countryside around her didn’t quite seem to call to her as this set did. Remembering the picture in the library of the ray of light reflecting onto the cairn within the ring, Taylor shivered, wondering if this set of stones was the ones where the ancient Druids had attempted to make their sacrifice.

  Stopping the car at the end of the road, Taylor leaned back against the seat. Eyeing the footpath leading up to the ring, Taylor slowly followed it with her eyes until she was staring at the ancient sentries, outlined against the dark gray sky.

  A sudden pecking on the window startled her into banging her knees against the dashboard as she jumped in the seat. She whirled around to find Magnus grinning at her through the rain-streaked glass, his bent body wrapped warmly in a richly colored plaid. Stretching to unlatch the door and push it open, Taylor smiled, motioning for Magnus to get in out of the rain.

  Sliding into the seat, Magnus closed the door against the wind, pulling the plaid folds down from over his head. Examining the interior of the car, Magnus eyed the gauges along the dashboard with interest. “Odd looking contraption,” he observed, turning in the seat to eye the back seat of the car. “Seems ta’ be quite warm against the weather, though,” he stated, reaching over to place a gnarled hand over the vent emitting heated air.

  “Haven’t you been on this side of the gateway for a while?” Taylor asked, grinning at Magnus’ childlike interest in the workings of the automobile.

  Tapping his chin with a bent finger as his forehead wrinkled in concentration, Magnus finally shrugged his shoulders, grinning sheepishly at Taylor. “I canna remember the last time I was on this side of the stones.” His grin slowly fading to a somber frown, he shook his head sadly. “This land holds far too many painful memories for me ta’ visit here very often.”

  Feeling a slight stab of guilt at having dampened Magnus’ spirits, Taylor sat up straighter in the seat as an idea struck her. “Hey! Would you like to go for a drive?” she asked, nodding toward the road.

  Slowly the smile returned to Magnus face as he warmed to the idea of braving a ride in the amazing vehicle. Taylor reached across him pulling the seat belt and shoulder strap across his chest. As the metal hasp clicked and locked into place, Magnus pulled at the strap across his lap. “What the devil is this thing for?” he asked, eyeing Taylor in astonishment.

  “It’s a safety belt,” Taylor explained, craning to see out the back window as she backed the car into the turn around. Shifting into a forward gear, she straightened in the seat as she eased back out onto the road.

  “And how is this wee bit of strapping going to keep me safe?” Magnus inquired, pulling at the shoulder strap and letting it snap against his chest.

  Eyes narrowing with mischief, Taylor immediately slammed on the brakes, throwing Magnus slightly forward until the seatbelt and shoulder strap engaged and held him firmly against the seat.

  “What in the name of the Furies did ye do that for?” Magnus sputtered, staring at Taylor as though she’d suddenly gone daft.

  “I was demonstrating the value of safety belts. If I hadn’t strapped you in, you’d be rubbing the knot on your head and looking through a cracked windshield,” Taylor replied, once again heading the car back toward the main road.

  “Hmmpff!” Magnus snorted, folding his arms across his chest and glaring from beneath his bushy eyebrows. “What other forms of mischief do ye have in mind for this day or are ye going ta’ keep me in suspense?”

  Suppressing a smile at the fuming old man, Taylor bowed her head for forgiveness. “I’m sorry, Magnus. But I thought that’d be the best way to show you what a seatbelt was for.” A second snort from the passenger seat was the only reply to Taylor’s grinning apology.

  As the car turned onto the main roadway, Taylor slowed to a steady speed, the rain pelting against the windshield greatly reducing her visibility. Glancing over at Magnus, Taylor decided to risk the burning question that had been playing on her mind. “So, are you a ghost?” she finally blurted, keeping her eyes to the rain-spattered windshield as she switched on her headlights to improve the view of the road.

  “Ha!” Magnus laughed as he slapped his knee with one hand. “Quinlan owes me a new pipe! I told him ye’d ask me that!”

  At Ta
ylor’s look of bewilderment, Magnus chuckled as he tried to explain. “I prefer ta’ be called a wandering spirit…My mortal body released by soul several hundred years ago. But I dinna like the word ghost for I willna’ be found skulkin’ around graveyards or rattling chains in the hallways of castles.”

  Reaching out to pat Taylor’s hand upon the steering wheel, Magnus continued. “As you can see…I’m also able to touch…a gift from the Furies of which I’m quite proud. The average spirit doesna’ possess that!”

  “Who are these Furies you keep referring to?” Taylor asked, steering the car into the village of Achmore.

  Eyeing the surrounding town with interest, Magnus turned from the window to stare at Taylor in amazement. “Ye’ve never heard of the Furies, lass? Ye dinna remember them at all?”

  Biting her lower lip as she searched her memory, Taylor slowly nodded her head as she recalled, “The only Furies I can remember are the ones from Greek mythology…I don’t recall anything about them in any of the Scottish lore I’ve read.”

  “Aye…well, just so ye’ll know,” Magnus explained wisely. “The Furies are not just of Greek Mythology. Alecto, Megaera, and Tisiphone are of all the dimensions and planes. They travel the worlds across the times punishing injustice and rewarding loyalty. They value love above all else. ‘Tis the greatest power of all.”

  Taylor grew thoughtful as Magnus described what seemed to her to be the traveling judges of the dimensions connected by the mysterious gateways. Turning north at the crossroads in the midst of Achmore, Taylor tapped her finger on the steering wheel as she made up her mind to ask Magnus more about his past. “Do you…remember…being dead?” Taylor asked hesitantly, pausing as Magnus arched his shaggy brows. “What I mean is…where were you after you died?”

 

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