Moonstone Shadows

by Patricia Rice

  Schoolteacher! Of course the new Lucy was a schoolteacher—innocent, childlike, everything he was not and never would be. Given her lack of negative vibrations, she was probably a guardian angel or some weirdness like that. The Lucys had a never-ending supply of talents.

  “Since it seems Carmel is off her medication and has taken a dislike to Miss Simon, that might not be the wisest choice,” Cassandra said patiently. “Let us have the key to the spare room, and we’ll move boxes. It’s not as if she arrived with a house full of furniture.”

  “Excuse me.” A firm voice that did not sound particularly angelic spoke up. “I’m not a dog bone. I come from a long line of warriors and druids and know how to speak for myself. I’ll be fine at the lodge until I decide if I’m staying in Hillvale. I just wanted to visit my cousin, give him news of his home, and meet Mariah in person.”

  Rolling his eyes, Aaron set down his tools and stood to lean over his counter. Damned if the woodland fairy wasn’t even more enchanting awake than asleep. She’d donned an atrocious camouflage jacket over her bright pink shirt. Her khaki pants were wrinkled and grass-stained. But her honey hair framed a delicate chin and porcelain features, and her heavy-lidded eyes were much too discerning beneath the messy bangs.

  “You’re a Lucy. Of course you’ll be staying. Cass has a house large enough to hide an army. She doesn’t like sharing any more than Carmel does. Play the two old witches against each other, and they’ll find you a place soon enough.” Aaron turned his glare on Cass. “I am not one of your minions to be played like a chess piece.”

  “I don’t go where I’m not wanted, but at least I’m a paying guest at the lodge. I’ll be fine there.” The teacher stalked out, defying Cass and scorning Aaron.

  He was good with that.

  Cass glared. “No man is an island. You cannot live like this forever.” She marched out after her newest protégée.

  Oh yeah, he could live like this forever and eternity. He was happy like this, with no one demanding his time and attention and devotion. He’d made himself a damned wealthy man now that his time was his own.

  The phone rang as the women walked out. Expecting a call from a supplier, he grabbed it.

  “The baby’s coming,” Keegan growled into his ear. “Word is that Cass has my cousin at your place. Send them up.” The call abruptly shut off.

  The Scot geologist was a sound man and a good friend who generally left Aaron alone, as he liked it. Aaron couldn’t return the favor by ignoring the plea of a panicked new father.

  Crossing the crowded shop in a few strides, Aaron shouted out the door at the women walking away. “Baby’s coming. Command performance.”

  Cass turned with a regal nod of acknowledgement. Miss Simon pretended he didn’t exist. Being ignored by the newcomer might almost work—if he didn’t have to hear the faint lilt of home in her voice.

  Hannah’s insides were in such knots that she’d fear the sickness was in her gut and not her head if she hadn’t just undergone a complete physical—

  And recognized the reason the antiques dealer and criminal fraud churned her insides. Tall, lean, exuding muscular strength and assurance, the man had near-black hair, a neat goatee, a Roman nose, and a mellow baritone to melt her bones—the modern equivalent of the knight in the painting and in her dreams, despite the expensive blazer and designer knit shirt. A modern knight—with a medieval cuirass in his window.

  A normal person would simply assume she’d seen him before—he had the faint accent of the Shetlands, a place of few inhabitants. Her American parents had lived there when she was quite young. She supposed it was logical to believe the familiarity was because she’d met him as a child.

  But she wasn’t normal or logical. She was a Malcolm—and she’d been studying Malcolm texts since birth. Weird coincidences dinnae happen, as the old stories told. Besides, he would have been a child, too, when she’d last been in the Shetlands, and no child would sport a goatee. Could the knot in her brain conjure coincidence?

  How had her dream knight become twisted together with a criminal who had gone to prison for selling fraudulent art? She’d come here looking for Aaron Townsend, the conman who had stolen the painting the journals had spoken about. Now that she’d found him—she needed to treat him with extreme wariness and not like a dream knight.

  Lost in thought, Hannah instinctively followed Cass down the street. She looked up now to see if they were heading for a hospital or a bus to take them to wherever Mariah was giving birth.

  Instead, they were hurrying down Hillvale’s main street, picking up a procession of chattering, excited followers. As they passed the café, a slight woman in an overlarge apron waved and closed the shutters over the café’s window. She leaned out the door to call, “I’ll be right there. Let me take the baby cakes out of the oven.”

  “Baby cakes,” a short, heavy woman with glorious sunset hair repeated with a laugh. “Mariah would ask if she’s baking babies now.”

  “They’re like biscuits, aren’t they?” Hannah asked. “Hi, I’m Hannah Simon, Keegan’s cousin, and I have no idea what’s happening.”

  “Amber Gabriel née Abercrombie. The name is still new to me.” She flashed an amber wedding band set with pearls and diamonds. “And we’re holding a birthing circle, I believe. Cass told us about it, although I’ve never attended one.”

  “A birthing circle? It’s a Malcolm tradition.” Thrilled to have arrived in time for the birth of her newest cousin, comfortable with the role of historian and teacher, Hannah fell in stride with her friendly companion. “We call on the spirits of our ancestors to look after the mother and the spirit taking residence in the unborn child. Traditionally, it was done in ancient Malcolm castles—there’s a whole story behind how we lost our original home. But we’re so widespread now, that tradition has become what we make of it. I’m fascinated to learn how Hillvale does it.”

  “Oh, you’re the new teacher!” Amber chirruped in joy. “My nephew will love you. And Teddy’s sister has just moved in with her two little ones, although you won’t have them for a few more years. It’s just so exciting to see the town grow like this. Welcome.”

  “Mariah told me there was a museum director’s position?” Hannah asked, sticking to her goal as the growing procession of women walked up a narrow lane of cottages nearly hidden by lush, exotic foliage. After her parents returned home from the UK, she’d grown up in the San Francisco area where most of her family resided. She’d returned to Scotland to work in Keegan’s castle these last years, but it was good to be back in California again, she thought.

  Amber waved plump fingers adorned with rings. “I think the director’s job will mostly be a volunteer position until we start collecting actual artifacts besides what we find in our attics. Your expertise will be welcome, but it’s the school that’s vital.”

  Hannah wasn’t the type to waste energy on curses, but she considered a few expressive epithets. Then the procession turned up the drive of a small house eccentrically adorned with what appeared to be silvery computer disks hanging from the eaves, twinkling in the fading rays of sun, and she let the future go in favor of the present. A birthing circle, for her cousin’s first child!

  A tall woman with a head of platinum dandelion-fluff hair, who appeared to be in the first stages of pregnancy, joined them. “This is so exciting! Hi, I’m Samantha Walker. You must be the new teacher. Mariah usually helps Cass lead our ceremonies. She’s the strongest among us, but she’s otherwise occupied today,” she added with a laugh. “I hope you know the ceremony.”

  So, it looked as if she was the new teacher—if she found a room. Keegan was right, though. Hannah thought she’d like it here. Arriving in time to sing a welcoming song for her new cousin seemed an auspicious opening for this last stage of her life.

  “Hannah, if you’ll start the chant, I think it will help connect the child to Keegan’s heritage. I’m closer to Mariah’s,” Cass commanded.

  The older cousin she knew and
respected had been talking more than usual if strangers were acquainted with her background. She supposed new fathers could be excused for seeking aid. “We don’t usually form a circle until the child is about to arrive. Is the midwife here?”

  “Brenda’s been in there since before noon,” an auburn-haired woman called from the other side of the circle. “Mariah’s sending out pretty strong signals now.”

  The only signals Hannah picked up were from books, but she knew many of her ancestors and their descendants had psychic abilities far greater than hers. “A twilight birth is special,” she exclaimed, understanding the growing excitement. “Is Brenda a physician?” she asked Amber as they joined hands.

  “A nurse practitioner and healer. Mariah said the child wants to be born here, not down the mountain in a hospital. I’m a little terrified at the idea of being dictated to by an unborn child,” Amber said with a half-laugh. “I want drugs.”

  “Not modern drugs,” Hannah warned. “They’re not good for those with psychic abilities. Modern medicine might be responsible for diluting our numbers and talents over the years. It’s not possible to prove that, though. Genetic failure for marrying outside our ancestral boundaries could also explain it.”

  “Hannah!” Cass said sharply. “Mariah needs us.”

  Unused to group participation, Hannah had to remember she wasn’t sitting in her lonely library. She’d never led a chant either, but the words were in her head, just as the many texts in the library lurked there, ready to be called upon as needed.

  Clasping the hands of Amber and Samantha, with the sun’s final rays fading behind the trees, Hannah spoke the ancient words asking for the blessings of mother earth and the ancestors who came before, asking for protection for the new child and her mother. She started in the old tongue of her druidic forebears, proceeded into the Gaelic of Keegan’s family, added the Mandarin of her maternal family, and worked her way to English.

  An older gentleman with a long, graying braid kept time on a leather and wood drum, chanting in an unfamiliar tongue similar to the one Cass took up now. Hannah assumed the language belonged to Mariah’s Native American ancestors. They both followed up with Spanish. A tall black woman Hannah hadn’t met added an African and a Jamaican blessing. In repetition, the chants blended, droning through the night air after the sun descended, welcoming the spirit child from wherever it came.

  Once upon a time, birthing circles had been held in castle keeps with extended family present, Hannah knew. Here, where tiny cottages replaced towering halls, and far-flung families couldn’t unite, this coming together of many hereditary lines offered a similar security. Even though these women were strangers, the warmth and excitement of bringing new life into the world connected them to each other and beyond the veil of the spirit world. Hannah could almost feel their long-gone ancestors gathering.

  With the sun vanished below the horizon, the squall of a newborn cut through the drone of their chant. A clear soprano broke into joyous song. Hannah located the refrain coming from a tall woman, clad in black and wearing a veil, whom she had noticed earlier. Recognizing the song, she joined in, as did Cass and several of the others.

  The babe’s cries quieted. The front door opened, letting out a slash of golden light, before Keegan, a giant of a man, blocked the glow with broad shoulders while holding a swaddled infant. “A girl, meet Daphne Daisy Ives, nine pounds, ten ounces. Mariah is doing fine, thank you all.”

  A cheer echoed through the dark.

  “Daisy!” Samantha whispered excitedly. “Mariah thought she felt Daisy’s spirit. I guess we won’t know until Daphne’s old enough to show if she has a creative talent.”

  “Look at Daisy’s lamassu,” Amber whispered back, pointing out the absurd little stacks of wired stones scattered about the yard. “Their eyes are glowing.”

  The crystals attached to the top stones did seem to be catching the lamplight. “What does that mean?” Hannah asked. She’d learned about Hillvale’s inhabitants and their abilities from Keegan and Mariah’s communications, but she wanted to absorb her surroundings through all eyes.

  “Daisy was one of the original Hillvale commune artists. She was Mariah’s mentor and created those sculptures to protect us against evil. She was murdered last year, and Mariah misses her. So she could just be engaged in wishful thinking, but Daisy’s spirit could be present!” Amber said in excitement.

  Even Hannah felt a little thrill at thinking the text in the old journals hadn’t lied about the spirits of ancestors entering the womb. Surrounded by all this estrogen, she was sorry that she would never experience the initiation of new life. But she wouldn’t leave any child of hers motherless, and so would never know this thrill for herself. Her excitement was for the women around her.

  She would not think of dark knights making babies. That was the knot in her brain talking.

  After the little cook handed out her soft, sugary cookies, the circle broke up, with people drifting in different directions. Most of the women appeared to live on this enchanting lane and drifted to their cottages, one by one. By the time she traipsed into town, Hannah was alone except for the auburn-haired woman she’d heard called Teddy.

  “You’ll fit right in here,” Teddy said happily. “I don’t know that my niece and nephew have any gifts, they’re still young, but a gifted teacher can only be a benefit. Keegan says you carry a library in your head. Oh, and hi, I’m Teddy Kennedy. I own that jewelry store.” She nodded at a building on the corner of the main street and the highway.

  Hannah introduced herself and wondered if the lodge shuttle ran after dark.

  “Don’t worry,” Teddy said, as if reading her mind. “Harvey can take you back to the lodge in the golf cart if the shuttle has quit running. Since we closed town early for the birthing, it probably has. Oops.”

  “Ah, you’re the empath Keegan mentioned.” Hannah studied the dark town lit only by a single light pole. “Who is Harvey? Is he the musician?”

  “Among other things. He’s a Lucy, too, although he and Aaron and Keegan hate being called Lucys.”

  “Understandably,” Hannah said with a laugh. “Keegan is more Ives than Malcolm, so he hates being called a Malcolm too, since most of us are female.”

  “You sound too American to be Scots, although I know you just came from Keegan’s home. Have you lived here before?” The auburn-haired jeweler stood with Hannah beneath the street lamp, apparently confident that a ride would magically appear.

  “I was born in the Shetlands, but my parents returned to their families in San Francisco when I was little. So I went to school in California, completed university courses in the UK, and felt called to help Keegan with his library and their local school after that.” Hannah was glad that her family wasn’t the type to hover. She’d always been a loner, and they accepted that. She could visit occasionally and hope they wouldn’t notice any changes.

  “I should travel more,” Teddy said. “But I’m always too busy. Huh, that’s Aaron’s van coming down the street. I wonder where Harvey is?”

  “Maybe he’s driving the van,” Hannah said with hope, not wanting to face the angry man with a criminal past after the beautiful evening. “Aaron doesn’t like me.”

  “Aaron avoids everyone. He’s very good at closing himself off so even I can’t tell what he’s feeling. But once he gets involved, he’s passionate about pursuing what’s right. Ask Fee sometime. You’re safe in his hands.”

  Hannah was having difficulty processing all the names and people, but she believed Fee was the cook who had passed around baby cakes. She didn’t have time to question before the van halted and the passenger door opened. The light inside only revealed the shadow of the driver against the darkened windows.

  “There could be a serial killer in there,” she said weakly.

  “Nah, only Aaron would open the door without speaking. Stop by my store any time. I’m always eager for a coffee break and a chat.” Teddy walked off with a wave.

  Reluctantl
y, Hannah climbed into the passenger seat. Her dark knight with the criminal past grimly gripped the steering wheel.

  “They had a baby girl,” she said, trying not to sound frightened. “Daphne Daisy they’re calling her.”

  “Am I picking up your luggage and delivering you anywhere?” he asked without comment on the happy news.

  “I’ll be fine at the lodge. Keegan wouldn’t have recommended it if it was unsafe,” she said with an assurance she wasn’t certain she felt. The roaring lioness had been pretty unbalanced.

  “I’ll go in with you. If Carmel has another fit, I’ll take you to Walker’s place. They have a spare room. Samantha just fills it with seedlings and crap.” He drove the large van up the narrow lodge drive with the expertise of a knight on his steed.

  She had to stop thinking like that. Noble knights didn’t go to jail for selling fake art.

  It wasn’t dreadfully late. The lodge parking lot was filled with cars, and people strolled the walks and spilled from the well-lit restaurant and bar.

  “I appreciate the ride, but I’ll be fine,” Hannah assured him. “If you let me out here, you won’t have to find a parking space. I can go in the back door without notice.”

  Ignoring her, he drove around to the rear of the lodge and parked. He climbed out, came around, and held out his hand to help her before she could step down on her own.

  The minute Aaron’s palm closed over Hannah’s, she knew her mistake.

  Three

  Aaron clutched the thrice-damned woman’s fingers as she crumpled.

  “Deodamnatus,” he muttered in his schoolboy Latin, catching the teacher’s other arm to prevent her from hitting the pavement. She slumped against him like a rag doll. “Faex.” Now what did he do?

  Cell phones didn’t work in Hillvale, or he’d call the lodge desk for help. “Futue deodamnatus faex.” He despised helplessness—and he was damned scared she’d die on him.

  He heaved her unconscious form back in the van so he could rummage through her backpack for the room key.