by Leela Ash
There was no more time to lose or explain. Ensuring the brake was firmly on the buggy and that Elizabeth was settled, Andrea took one of the stones and passed it to Alex who eyed it suspiciously.
"So, what am I supposed to do with this, wish for Santa Clause?"
Andrea smiled tolerantly and led the way to the ancient grave of Alexhander MacDonald. As they reached the spot she could hear a bell start to toll midday in the distance.
Kneeling on the ground she beckoned for Alex to do the same. He rolled his eyes but followed suit, anything to keep the peace.
The wind whipped up from the East and a low mist drifted in from across the ocean until it surrounded the graveyard of the tiny chapel of St Oran.
5.
Andrea awoke and looked around her. The bitter taste of herbs stuck in the back of her throat and she sat up and retched, bringing up the poison along with the contents of her stomach. The girl Elizabeth lay silently at her side, unmoving yet still warm. The faint pallor of death had already started to pass over her brow and Andrea gathered the small body into her arms and wept, even though she knew that her own child slept peacefully, hundreds of years away in the future. She had poisoned the child and herself - death and the possession of a rune stone being the only way to return back to the future; now she had returned to that very point of death to breathe life back into her ancestral form.
A shout heralded from the room downstairs. Alex must have woken.
Laying the girl back on the bed she sat up. There was no time to lose. She remembered the first time she had visited this place, it had been the year 1625 when she first arrived and it had been a shock to the system to say the least. She would return for Elizabeth soon and in turn she would breathe life into the lifeless form of Andra and Alexhander’s child, Elizabeth.
Rushing down the wooden staircase she entered the main room below. Alex was trying to sit up on the makeshift bed, his eyes wild with pain from his injuries and disbelief at his surroundings.
"Andrea, what the fuck has happened? What on Earth?”
Alex did not swear easily and it was a sign he was agitated. He lay back on the pillows, weak with the pain.
It was not the time to say I told you so.
"It's the runes - we are back in the year 1635, like I said we would be. I know it's hard to take in. The last time I was here, you, or at least Alexhander MacDonald, lay dying from his battle wounds, and your half sister Helena killed Geraldine, and you in turn killed Helena."
"But I don't even have a sister!"
She looked round to find the bodies of the two women. Only the slight body of the young nun, Geraldine, remained, Helena had gone.
"You look different."
Andrea had almost forgotten the difference in time. Elizabeth was 9 years old and of course she too was older than her future self. A wealth of memories returned to her. Things she had almost forgotten about from a former time. Some memories weren't even hers but were Andra's, long before she had travelled back in time to embody her ancestor, to keep the lineage alive, and she wore her memory like a shroud.
Alex lay back on the pillow; it was all too much to take in as she knew it would be. He too looked older, a rugged man back from the wars, not recently graduated from Edinburgh University. It would take some getting used to. His hand was still tightly clasped around the stone and he was now looking at it incredulously.
She noticed the blood on his bandages. He had been badly wounded and needed tending to.
"I better call for the physician to come and bandage your wounds again; he will give you something for the pain."
Alex looked horrified.
"No medieval medic is going to mess around with me!"
He winced as a wave of pain seared through him.
"Well it's either that or you die a long and painful death."
She stood up to summon one of the servants and stopped when she reached the lifeless body of Geraldine.
"Alex, I have something to tell you."
Although he could see the likeness between the dead young nun and his Grandmother, he could not believe that they were the same. He was too weak to think any further on the matter and she dare not yet tell him about the fate of his beloved relative. As the physician arrived she stood up to leave.
"Don't leave me Andrea, stay with me."
She had no choice.
"I have to fetch Elizabeth."
Taking the stone from his hand she kissed him quickly on his perspiring brow before heading back upstairs to her chamber.
There were two drops of poison left in the vial that had remained where she had dropped it, just enough to stop her heart.
6.
The young girl was soon coughing in her arms after retching up the poison. It was a shock to see her daughter again, now older. It was Elizabeth and yet not Elizabeth; the same genes but from another time. That would be something else that would be difficult to explain to Alex.
She left the girl sleeping soundly in the bed before quietly joining him. The physician had given him a strong draught; a mixture of bitter herbs that tasted vile, but before long he too was sleeping a deep and dreamless sleep.
"I'm afraid he has lost a lot of blood and is quite delirious. His words did not make any sense and he kept asking me to 'phone' for his own doctor?"
The change would take a lot of getting used to.
Alex awoke later that night after a sleep full of weird dreams and images. He thought he was still dreaming as he looked round the strange and antiquated room and it was only when Andrea appeared, dressed like an extra from the local medieval banquet, that the odd reality started to dawn upon him.
As he struggled to sit up, a sharp pain from the wound in his side caused him to cry out and soon Andrea was by his side.
"What on earth is happening to me Andrea? I don't believe it... I…"
Sinking back into the cushions he closed his eyes.
"Hush, you need to rest and get better. All will be well."
She stroked his forehead tenderly.
His eyes opened wide and he stared up at her, a dubious look on his face.
"All will be well? Andrea where on Earth are we? And what has happened? And more importantly what has happened to me?"
She fetched him a draught of the local spirit before she proceeded. It was the local mead made by the monks with Iona honey. It was quite a potent brew and she hoped it would help to settle his nerves.
Sitting on the edge of the couch she started to tell him about his great ancestor, Alexhander MacDonald, her own Grandmother, and his. How she had fallen in love with him, both in the past and in the future, and how their child Elizabeth was conceived in a period of history when Charles 1st was on the throne, and the English Civil War was raging.
"You can't be serious. You're saying that I'm my own daughter’s great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandchild? That's a little hard to take in?"
"I know and I can't explain everything. Geraldine told me that there had been a shift in the balance of power in the Universe and that Time itself is under threat. A channel has been opened in the Thin Place – Iona - where the physical and the spiritual are almost co-existent. It is that event that has allowed us to travel back in time, to put things right."
“But how are we supposed to put things right, and what are WE meant to do?"
"I'm not sure really. Geraldine told me that I would know when the time was right."
"Dear Grandmother. She would never be content sitting with her knitting and a tartan blanket over her knee. And will she be joining us at some point?"
He saw the shadow cross her eyes before she had chance to hide her feelings.
"What's wrong?"
The body of the young nun had been removed for burial by the physician and she stared at the space where the body had been.
"Geraldine's dead."
Her words shocked him and she could feel the tears spring to her eyes once again.
"Dead? But how? When?"
> "It was Helena - or Helen if you prefer. She's back here with us now, but she killed your dear grandmother back at the hotel. She had a stroke just after Helen had visited her."
“So you were there?"
"No, but I was with her when she died. She told me to bring you and Elizabeth back here for safety and that we would know what to do. She seemed to have been expecting it and kept saying that it is the beginning and the end".
"I can't take all of this in Andrea; I think I'm slowly going mad?"
Andrea hesitated, there was just one more thing to tell him, but she wondered whether it would send him over the edge. Elizabeth had been a one year old baby back in 2016, now she was a young girl of 9 years old.
A life to breathe life into another life, the continuous circle.
The physician had left a draught of the sedative and she poured it into a beaker.
"Drink this Alex, I think you had better rest for a while."
7.
Alex got much worse before he got better. The wound was much deeper than first imagined and he was weak for several months. He struggled to come to terms with his circumstances and begged Andrea to let him return home, but she could not. If Alex left, then what would happen to Alexhander?
She had no way of knowing and without Geraldine felt lost and out of her depth.
The winter passed and spring slowly started to raise its head on the Island. The last few months had been hard and Andrea had struggled. Alex was almost better but he was bitter and resentful of her keeping him captive in the past and had become withdrawn and moody. At least now the weather was getting better and he had started to go outside to walk and to take in the air. Nothing had felt right since they had travelled back in Time and she wondered if Geraldine had been right after all. Maybe they should all just return back to the present; surely nothing could be as bad as their current circumstances.
Only Elizabeth had carried on regardless. The effect of a one year old baby travelling back into a child's body had been different. The young 9 year old Elizabeth had woken as if nothing had happened and had no knowledge of the future. She supposed it would be the same going back into the future, the babe would remember nothing of the child.
As she passed across the window a ray of sun flitted across the room and she shifted towards the light. The rare warmth of the sun was strangely comforting on her face and she placed her hands on her cheek as if to capture the illusive light. Overnight there had been a shift in nature and the early season had finally arrived. It was the spring equinox and there was to be a Pagan Spring Festival in celebration. A great fire was to be lit on the dunes overlooking the Bay at the Back of the Ocean.
Andrea missed the old cottage by the ocean. Perhaps it was time to go back home after all? She could see Alex returning from his walk, slowly trudging up the track towards the house, and her heart ached for him. They hardly talked these days and that made the long days unbearable. How could she make him understand when she didn't even understand herself?
At least Elizabeth was happy. She had a new dress and cloak for the festival and was looking forward to the event. The child was innocent of the future and knew only of the present time. Her father was aloof, but most of her young life he had been away in war and battle and she did not seem to notice his moods. She was tutored at the small nunnery during the day and in the evening she sang and played. Elizabeth had adopted a sleek, black cat that roamed the Island and was now her constant companion and shadow. She was a loving and intelligent child but lived in a world of her own. When she wasn't in her classes she could be seen walking the shoreline, picking up shells, strange twisted roots and sea carved pebbles. These were her treasures and she stored them all in a large wooden chest in her chamber. On clear nights she loved to gaze at the stars and could recognize all of the constellations, ‘The Great Bear’, ‘The Archer’, and ‘The Plough’ amongst many. A young boy from one of the local crofts, Tom, had become her sometimes tutor and Andrea was pleased that her daughter had found at least one friend. Although raised on the island she did not fit in with the other young girls. She thought them silly and they thought her aloof.
The evening was cloudy and yet the atmosphere was bright and full of energy. The locals gathered on the beach to welcome in the spring and the great fire blazed away into the cold night air. Andrea and Elizabeth had gone out alone. Alex had not been in the mood for celebration and was sulking at home.
The fire warmed them and the blaze lit up their features like a red mask. The auburn and gold weave of the young girl’s hair glinted in the fiery light and her cheeks glowed with the heat. She looked so happy and so pretty; what would happen to the young Elizabeth if they returned home? Would this young girl still have a full life in front of her?
Trying to hold back the tears she looked around at Elizabeth. She had found Tom and the two were feeding the fire with driftwood. Despite the heat, a shiver ran through Andrea and she pulled the cloak tightly around her arms to keep out the cold. A dry twig crackled and sent a spark shooting high up into the heavens. She followed it with her eyes, the amber fragment lifting in the breeze and out of sight. As she looked up, the clouds parted for a second to reveal the moon hanging full and heavy in its orbit. Her heart beat at the sight, as if seeing it for the first time; the old and timeless moon that had waxed and waned across the centuries.
A soft hand clasped her shoulder. The touch and feel of a man she had missed for so long. It was Alex.
"Andrea."
She turned to face him, her heart beating fast.
Burying her head into his chest she let the tears fall freely for the first time in months.
He held her close for a long while as they both stood and watched the fire burn into the dark firmament.
For a moment he was silent, it was difficult to find the words.
"I've seen Geraldine."
At first she thought she had misheard and that he had been referring to the girl.
"You mean Elizabeth?"
He shook his head "No, I saw Geraldine, my Grandmother."
8.
The last few months had been a horrible nightmare for Alex and one that he could not awaken from. He had changed from a happy go lucky and outgoing young guy to a resentful and solemn shadow of his former self.
Never quite accepting that he was living in the 17th century, he had isolated himself from the rest of his family and the people around him. He even looked different, older, the face of a man haunted by life. The face he saw in the distorted mirror looked like his but he knew that it wasn't. It was like looking at a non-identical twin, the same but not the same. Alex couldn't quite put his finger on it.
The only good thing to salvage from all of this was that his body was extremely fit and toned. His old routine of three runs a week had kept him lean but not particularly muscular. He now found he had a six pack and biceps, and that he had several scars on his normally smooth skin. The wound in his side had been deep, and at night he woke from nightmares where he fought in bloody and physical battles. Strange memories kept filtering through his mind, but he tried not to think about them, pushed them back, fought against anything he could to keep a hold of his own true identity.
Alex had been walking near to the Abbey when a shrouded figure had caught his eye. He had got to know everybody and everything on the tiny Island, the movements and natural rhythms of daily life. Anyone new was generally regarded with mistrust, and in the case of Alex that mistrust was doubled. Stepping out into the night air he had walked carefully across the track and was soon in the Abbey grounds. No one was there. Perhaps whoever it was had gone inside, and he stepped cautiously through the Abbey doorway.
He had never been a believer or a regular church goer, the occasional weddings and funerals but then only when really necessary. Back home the Abbey was merely his place of work, a tourist attraction, but even he couldn't deny the spirituality of the place. One thing that he had quickly realized was that he would need to revisit all of his former c
ynicism about the supernatural. As a student he had been a staunch atheist and laughed at anyone with differing views, now he could see just what an arrogant fool he must have sounded.
Walking across the stone floor his footsteps echoed in the hallowed air. Of course it wasn't his Abbey, the one that he knew back in the real world was of a much more recent build. The newer Abbey was built on a greater and grander scale and was much more austere, yet he had to admit that if there was a God or supreme deity, then this place was certainly nearer to it. There was something about the architecture and rude fittings that was both primitive and honest. If there was a God, then he certainly dwelt here.
As he stood looking up at the Saints depicted in the windows, he had the sudden sensation that someone was standing behind him, watching him, yet there was no sound. Turning around he could see the shrouded figure approaching.
A sudden calmness gathered around him, a sense of familiarity. The figure stopped a little way off in front of him and spoke his name.
"Alex."
There was no mistaking that voice; it was his beloved grandmother, Geraldine.
All was shadowy beyond the veil but he had no doubt who it was. The air was filled with her personality, her brightness and zest for life, and almost immediately his spirits were raised.
She approached him slowly, reaching out until he was sobbing gently in her arms.
"There, there, Alex. All will be well."
Once again he was a child of 6 or 7 years, being comforted after some mishap; a graze to the knee or a fall from his bicycle. His grandmother had always been there for him; until recently.
"I don't understand Gran? There is so much that I don't understand. I don't belong here and I just want to go home."
"There is so much more than you or I will ever know or understand Alex."
"But it doesn't seem real that I can be here, that this is possible. Am I ill; is all of this a bad dream?"
