Chapter 16 #2
“It’s time to tell him everything, isn’t it?”
“It is,” I murmured, leaning back to watch as Graham bent and dug through the contents of my fridge.
“I think he’ll handle it well.”
“That remains to be seen.”
“Agnes?”
“Aye?” I looked up.
“I’m waiting.”
“Och, right. So. Here it is. All of it. That I know, at least. From the beginning.”
I started with Gran.
“When she was dying,” I said, “she made me promise something. She grabbed my hand and told me I had to let you go. I could never let myself love anyone. That if I did, the loch would take him.”
Graham turned to me, an unreadable look in his eyes. “Takes them how?”
“Drowns them, basically. Every man a Wright woman of the Bookkeeper line truly loves? Well, the loch claims him. My grandfather drowned in Loch Mirren when my mother was a girl. My father as well. My great-uncle too. And generations before that. It’s not coincidence or even really bad luck. It’s a curse.”
“A curse,” Graham repeated carefully. “Naturally.”
“Placed on my family several hundred years ago.” I took a breath. “By a creature called the Beithir.”
“The same one we saw in the loch?”
Graham had been there the day that the Beithir had risen from the loch, shocking us all, as the Order of Caledonia had held off the Kelpies to save Zara and Liora.
I told him everything then. How my ancestor Isobel had killed the Beithir in 1746, and the creature had cursed the Wright line with its dying breath.
How the Bookkeeper position had been vacant ever since, my family cast out of the Order in disgrace.
How I’d only recently learned any of this, discovered it in the archives, confirmed by Quilliam.
“Wait,” Graham said. “He was there? Three hundred years ago?”
“Aye,” Quilliam said, and I translated. “I was bonded to the Bookkeeper line long before Isobel. I watched her grow up. She was a good Bookkeeper, dedicated and meticulous. And then I watched her walk into the loch one winter night and kill the guardian she was sworn to protect.”
“But why?” Graham asked. “Why would she do that?”
“That’s what we don’t know,” I admitted. “Quilliam doesn’t know either. The records from that time were destroyed or removed. All we know is what she did, not why.”
Graham was quiet for a long moment, processing as he cracked eggs into a bowl.
“So when the unicorn appeared yesterday,” he said slowly. “I mean, first of all … bloody hell, that was incredible, no?”
I nodded. I was still replaying the encounter on a loop in my head.
“But what, specifically, about that made you so upset?”
“Och, so it’s been a thing in Loren Brae.
I’ve been told that when the unicorn appears, it kind of confirms that two people are meant to be together.
Destined. Soulmates, if you believe in that sort of thing.
” I couldn’t look at him, instead I picked up a pen and began scribbling circles aimlessly on a piece of paper in front of me.
“For most people, that’s a blessing, exciting even.
For us, it’s a death sentence. For you.”
“Agnes—”
“I’ve known about the curse since Gran died,” I hurried on, unable to look at him.
This was the part that was sticky for me.
I hated that I’d kept this from him for so long, but also, I felt justified in doing so.
“That’s why I ended things then, Graham.
That’s why I’ve been pushing you away ever since.
I thought if I didn’t let myself love you, if I kept my distance, you’d be safe.
” My voice cracked. “But it doesn’t matter.
I love you anyway. I’ve always loved you.
And now the unicorn has confirmed it, which means the curse knows.
The loch knows. And it will come for you. As sure as the sun rises in the east.”
I finally looked up. Graham’s face was pale, but his eyes were steady.
“Is that everything?” he asked.
“No. There’s more.”
I told him about joining the Order and the ritual I performed at the four corners of MacAlpine Castle and how I chose Gran’s pen as my weapon.
At that, his lips twitched. He poured eggs into a pan, adjusted the heat, and dug out Lurpak for the toast.
True to his word though, he kept silent. Processing, I supposed. Needing to get it all out, I plowed on.
“The unicorn showed me something when it touched its horn to my forehead. Three objects … artifacts, it looked like. The Stone of Truth, which is here in Loren Brae, as you know.” Graham nodded.
Even though he wasn’t part of the Order of Caledonia, he was just as much a part of everything that was going on in Loren Brae and was well versed in the history of the Clach na Fìrinn.
“The next thing I saw, which was new to me, was a silver cup filled with something that looked like liquid light. And a third thing that kept changing shape? I don’t know.
It was hard to track what was all going on.
But someone, or something, or whatever, I don’t know, like some disembodied voice narrating the whole vision called them the Na Trì Banrigh. The Three Queens.”
“The Three Queens,” Graham repeated, looking over his shoulder as he stirred the eggs. “Isn’t that what we found in the stacks the other day?”
“Aye,” I said, leaning back and nibbling my lower lip. I had a thousand thoughts racing around my head at the moment, and it was hard to land on what this new information meant. For me. For Graham.
For Loren Brae.
“Maiden, mother, and crone,” Quilliam supplied, and I repeated it for Graham.
“The three aspects of the divine feminine.
The three sacred artifacts, separated long ago because their combined power was too dangerous.
The Stone represents the Crone … her wisdom and truth.
The Cup represents the Mother … that which gives us life and nourishment.
And the third represents the Maiden … which signals potential and becoming.
“And my family was supposed to keep them connected, at least that’s what I believe,” I continued.
“The Bookkeeper was the bridge between the three branches. When Isobel killed the Beithir, she didn’t just curse our line.
She shattered the connection between the artifacts. And the family split to protect them.”
“The women in the vision,” Graham said, sliding the eggs from the pan onto the plate just as the toast popped. “The ones you mentioned?”
“Aye. It seemed they were guarding the artifacts. I think they’re other branches of the Wright family.”
“So there are other Wrights out there? Other family members you didn’t know about?”
“Maybe. The voice in the vision said we are scattered but not broken. I think they’re waiting to be found.”
Graham brought two plates of food to the table, placed them down, and then went and stood at the front window, looking out over the loch. His shoulders were tense, and my stomach twisted in knots.
“Uh-oh. I think loverboy is about to blow a gasket,” Quilliam murmured, and I gave him a shut the hell up look before turning back to Graham.
“Graham?” My voice was small. “Say something. Please.”
“I’m trying to process.” He turned back to face me.
“You’re telling me that you have a three-hundred-year-old dragon familiar.
That you’re now a part of the Order and likely have magick yourself.
That there’s a curse on your family that will try to kill me because you love me.
That there are other magickal artifacts scattered across the world, guarded by long-lost relatives you’ve never met.
And that you have to pass three challenges tied to truth before you can fully step into your role as Bookkeeper.
Och, and likely face down the Kelpies or a bloody Beithir before this is all done? ”
“That’s ... aye. That’s a neat summary of it, I’d say.” I swallowed, my throat tight, as I watched him, unable to read the expression on his face.
“And you’ve been carrying this alone for how long?”
“I mean, parts of it for years now. The curse part. Protecting you,” I whispered as Graham’s eyebrows drew low over his forehead in a dark look.
“Years.” He shook his head. “You’ve known about some of this for years and you never once told me.
Bloody hell, it all makes sense now. I could never figure out why you were doing what you were doing.
But you had to be the one in charge, didn’t you?
You chose to never let me in. Never gave me the chance to help. ”
“I was trying to protect you!” I exclaimed and stood up, seeing where he was going.
“By pushing me away? By making us both miserable?” His voice wasn’t angry, exactly.
Perhaps more hurt than anything. “Agnes, I’ve spent all this time thinking something was wrong with me.
Thinking I wasn’t good enough, that I’d done something to make you stop loving me. And the whole time, you were just—”
“Trying to save your life,” I finished. “And I’m not sorry. Even if it was the wrong choice. But I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you. Of watching you drown because of me.”
“So you decided to lose me slowly instead? One rejection at a time?”
I winced. Because he was right. I’d been so focused on protecting him from the curse that I hadn’t considered what my distance was doing to him. To us.
“I’m sorry,” I said, tears burning my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Graham. But I also knew you’d do this. You’re too stubborn. You’d push through, no matter what, and then I’d lose you. I was trying to save you from yourself.”
He crossed the room in three strides and pulled me into his arms.
“Of course I would, you silly woman. Don’t you think I’d rather have one day of love and joy with you than years without?”