Chapter 16 Haunted
Following Brun’s guidance, Lizzie managed to cast the four elemental spells to control earth, fire, water, and wind, all of which Brun insisted they practiced outdoors, no doubt fearing she could destroy the manor should her magic get out of control again.
After a few days, she was able to recognise the Fae musical notes and once Brun wrote her an impromptu English-Fae dictionary with the alphabet (which was a collection of sounds rather than letters) and some of the most common words, she began to be able to read a little of that bizarre language.
Very, very little. It would probably take her a hundred years to learn it properly.
Give it or take a few decades.
Perhaps I should get one of those immortality rings…
“You are very quiet today.”
She was startled by Brun’s voice. They were walking back to the manor after practicing her wind spells by the loch and she had been particularly proud of the rather awesome whirlpools she had created on the water surface. It kind of made her feel like an X-Man.
Well, X-Woman I suppose.
Or X-Fae?
“Lizzie?” Brun called her name, this time reaching for her arm and halting in front of her, forcing her to stop too.
“Sorry!” she blinked at him, “I got lost into my own nonsense.”
Brun stepped closer without releasing her arm, studying her face attentively, then he gently pushed her glasses back, rubbing her cheekbone with his finger, tracing the area under her eye.
“You seem tired,” he assessed matter-of-factly, “Have you been sleeping?”
Lizzie shivered at his contact. Since that morning in the kitchen when her power had gone haywire, Brun had barely touched her again and only with brief, chaste brushes of his fingers.
“Not much,” she admitted, knowing that there was no point in lying to him.
His frown only deepened but he did not move his fingers from her face and she struggled to focus on his words, “It is my fault, I have been pushing you too hard…” then he studied the sky. It had been overcast in the past days, but so far it had not rained, “It looks like the dry weather will hold… What do you say we take the rest of the day off? We can go for a drive.”
She mimicked his gesture, only to move her eyes away from his. She had all these unrequited feelings and staring into his beautiful blue eyes when he was so close was painful.
Staying in that line of reasoning, the prospect of spending time with Brun in the confined space of a car seemed to be on the verge of torture. Still, his offer was too tempting for her to let it pass. She was craving a few hours to relax and think of anything other than spells and ancient monsters willing to suck the soul out of her body.
Or whatever it was the infamous Dreams Thief did.
“Sounds good,” Lizzie replied finally, smiling at him, “I think a drive will be lovely.”
An hour later Brun drove them southeast till Loch Awe and to the ruins of the Kilchurn Castle. It was a breath-taking site, surrounded by green mountains as far as the eye could see.
After locking the car, he offered his arm to her and they strolled up the path towards the castle, while he told her its history in minute detail, from its construction in the fifteen century, till its destruction three centuries later.
“Have you seen this castle still functional?” Lizzie was astonished that he could describe it so vividly and a little envious of the fact that Brun had the opportunity of witnessing so many historical events first-hand.
“Aye, I can even claim to have taken shelter here once or twice in my travels,” he replied gesturing towards the ruined walls around them, “A storm damaged it badly and when I heard the news, I was certain it was a sign that the Dreams Thief had returned. A few weeks later, Triarell was dead…”
Her brows knitted, “What do you mean returned?”
The lines of his jaws hardened, “After five centuries battling the Dreams Thief in the human world, the Endellys Sisters and Triarell’s husband were the last Enchanters left. Gweyir was killed about a hundred years before Triarell and Aranna only a decade after her younger sister. I prepared for a swift attack on Triarell, but instead the Dreams Thief vanished for decades. At the time, I suspected that Aranna had set him a trap.”
“A trap?” she repeated, “What kind of trap?”
He pushed his hands inside the pockets of his trousers, and for a moment his gaze was lost in the mountains beyond the remaining walls of the castle, “Aranna was an especially gifted Enchanter as I told you, who had an immense curiosity about the Conjurers’ arts, and was one of the few who knew how to merge both abilities… safely.”
“You mean without sucking anyone’s life?” she offered.
“Just so,” he acquiesced returning his gaze to her.
“And did you find out what this trap was?” she brushed a lock of hair away from her face. They had climbed a set of stairs leading to one of the remaining towers of the castle and the wind was much stronger there.
Noticing her pulling the zipper of her jacket up, Brun angled his body in front of the window slit, effectively shielding her from the wind, “Alas, I never figured it out. I only suspected it truly existed because the last thing Aranna told me was that the Dreams Thief was going to get more than it had bargained for.”
Lizzie thought for a moment.
“That was rather… cryptic, don’t you think?”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, “Aranna was quite fond of mystery. Puzzles and riddles were her favourite past-time.”
“Okay, so, after killing Aranna, the Dreams Thief disappeared and you believed that her trap had worked?” she concluded.
“Aye,” Brun acquiesced, “However, ninety years later, when this castle was hit by a lightning my instincts went on alert. I was sure that it was a sign that the Dreams Thief had found a way around Aranna’s trap. If existed, whatever it was.”
Frowning, she crossed her arms over her chest, “But what did the lightning have to do with all that?”
He sighed, “Storms always preceded the Dreams Thief assault. The spell he used to drain the magic out of an Enchanter caused this meteorological phenomenon. Very strong winds and electric storms were the first presage of his presence. It could be only hours, days, and sometimes weeks of storms. And the stronger the Enchanter, the farther away the storms would strike…”
Lizzie said nothing for a while, mulling over his words.
“This is so odd, is it not?” she said finally, “It’s so… Shakespearean… It almost feels like the Dreams Thief wanted to announce his presence…”
Brun was silent for a moment, frowning, “Fayla believed it was a consequence of a Conjurer trying to control the power of an Enchanter. Transform is not quite the same thing as create, were her exact words.”
She bobbed her head but did not reply. There was something odd about what he had just said that did not seem to add up, but she could not quite put her finger on what it was.
After visiting the Kilchurn castle they stopped for lunch on a little restaurant by the road. The family-owned place had the atmosphere of an old-style tavern, serving simple but freshly cooked food.
The waiter led them to a table in a cozy corner at the back of the restaurant, right behind a wide masonry column that symbolically divided the sitting area into two rooms. To Lizzie’s left there was a small window with a lovely view of the surrounding hills and potted petunias on the windowsill.
Brun skilfully diverted their conversation topics away from magic and soul-sucking monsters, somehow managing to make her talk about her future career plans. Those were of course no secret, but Lizzie usually disliked talking that much about herself.
However, he had such genuine interest in his gaze and the way he stayed silent, not just refraining from speaking but actively listening, that she just felt comfortable talking.
“And how long is the Foundation Programme?” he was asking, after elegantly patting the corner of his mouth with a napkin.
“Oh it’s only–”
Her words were cut when Brun’s mobile rang.
Frowning, he pulled the device from his pocket and checked the screen.
“Call from Edinburgh. It’s probably important…” he explained, tilting his head apologetically and getting up from his chair, “Excuse me, I have to take this. It won’t be a moment.”
With the fork frozen midair, Lizzie only bobbed her head, watching as he swiped the screen to accept the call and then disappeared behind the arched column towards the restaurant’s exit.
The only words she heard were Hello, how are you?
She bit her lower lip. Brun never had any qualms picking up his calls in front of her before. Obviously, he wanted privacy for that one.
Who could it be? Was it the person he met in Edinburgh a couple of weeks before? Was it… a woman? His lover? A girlfriend?
With her eyes fixed on the direction that Brun had taken, Lizzie began to fiddle nervously with her napkin, feeling the angry monster of jealousy making a home in her heart with bricks and mortar.
Jealousy! What a ridiculous idea! There was nothing between them and never would be! The man had loved her Fae great great-grandmother for centuries, he would never have feelings for a human awkward copy!
“God, I’ll need therapy for the rest of my life,” Lizzie muttered to herself, drinking a substantial sip of her beer.
“Now that’s what I call a coincidence!” sounded a familiar voice and she nearly choked with her drink.
Gobsmacked, Lizzie lifted her gaze from her glass unable to believe her ears.
Finn Duncan was leaning against the column right in front of her table with his arms crossed over his chest and a cocky smile plastered on his face as if he owned the restaurant. Again he was dressed in jeans and T-shirt and that leather biker jacket which seem to be his new trademark.
“What in the world are you doing here?” she cried, feeling her heart thundering inside her chest. She was not the scaredy-cat type, but his presence was literally making her skin crawl.
He shrugged, his eyes scanning her face and stopping at her chest, apparently pleased with what he was seeing and Lizzie had never felt more offended in her entire life, “Oh, just doing some… tourism with my… family. You know, visiting old castles and seeing a few woolly cows. What about you?”
How could someone who had behaved like he did be so nonchalant? Did he not get the memo after their exchange in Aberfeldy? She glowered at him and pressed her lips into a tight line, making no effort to disguise her irritation. Would it be too much of a scene if she stood up and splashed her beer over his face?
Finn’s cocky smile withered at her expression. At least he was not completely clueless.
“Listen Lizzie, that day in Aberfeldy, you didn’t let me explain–”
“Are you stalking me?” she hissed angrily and was shocked to feel that her magic was responding to her emotions. She could sense it close to the surface, just waiting to be released.
Her magic! What a concept!
“Should I be worried? Should I call the police? Just so you know, I’m not alone here: my friend is outside taking a call.”
Finn’s eyes widened and for a moment she panicked, wondering whether she was glowing or something. Finn could be your everyday scoundrel, but he was an intelligent man: she doubted he would buy glowing with anger as an explanation for any unnatural thing going on with her face in that moment.
“No, Lizzie, of course not, I just–”
“I don’t want to hear it, Finn. You had six bloody years to explain yourself and now I’m no longer interested!” she hissed again, trying to control her reaction and the sudden surge of her magic, “It’s best if you shut up and go away!”
He was even more shocked and then his blue eyes darkened into black. He began to turn away, but seemed to hesitate, the muscles of his jaws tensing as if he were striving to hold back his words. Then he jerked in alert, looked over his shoulder and tilted his head briefly at her, before disappearing behind the column.
On the next heartbeat, Brun appeared from the other side and she yelped in surprise.
“Apologies, it was from the bank, I did not want to bore you with business talk during your lunch…” then his brows knitted, “Lizzie? Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!” he pulled his chair closer and sat beside her.
“Finn…” she muttered between gritted teeth.
Thecold hands of death grasped his heartwhen Lizzie uttered that name.
“What did you just say?” his voice was so low it hummed in his own chest.
Lizzie lifted her eyes to him with a crease between her brows, “Finn was here. Sorry, I probably never mentioned his name. Finn is my… my ex-boyfriend… The one I met by chance in Aberfeldy.”
That explanation did not make him feel any better. He surveyed the restaurant.
“Now? Right here?”
“Yes, he was here like a second ago. Haven’t you seen him? I thought you actually bumped into each other…”
His frown only grew deeper, “No, I saw no one coming in or out. I was at the door taking the call, then I came straight back to our table,” he fixed his gaze on her, an ugly sensation coiling in his guts, “This Finn… what is his surname?”
She arched an eyebrow at him, “Why? What is going on?”
“Lizzie, please,” he pleaded, “This is important: what is his surname?”
“Duncan. His full name is Finn Duncan.”
His shoulders sagged and he let out the breath he was holding. It was of course impossible: the Finn he knew was long dead, but the coincidence was making him very uneasy.
“Do you have a picture of him?”
“A picture of Finn? No! God no!” she squealed in disgust, then narrowed her gaze at him, “What is going on?” she repeated the question warily.
He exhaled, “I knew a Finn…” then he lowered his voice, “Centuries ago. He was a Changeling too. But not a… good one.”
She swallowed hard, “Were there… bad Changelings?”
He bobbed his head, “In a manner of speaking. Most of us were fiercely loyal to the Enchanters. As children we were told that we were orphans because our families had been killed by the Dreams Thief. We grew up hating the monster…” he paused, taking a sip from his pint, “It somehow made easier to accept the harshness of our training and our lack of… connections.”
As soon as those words slipped between his lips he regretted saying them.
“Brun…”
“Nevertheless that strategy did not work for everyone,” he added quickly before she could express her sympathy, “The Dreams Thief had his minions in this world, much as he had in the Otherworld, either by creating his own Changelings or by alluring them to his side… Occasionally there was conflict between us.”
Her eyes widened, “You mean like… fights?”
He lowered his eyes, to his hands as if he could still see the blood in them, “More like gruesome battles… A proper war.”
She swallowed hard, trembling at the idea, and Brun quickly reached for her hand, squeezing her fingers, “Forgive me, I’m here talking about ancient history when meeting with this man clearly has made you upset.”
Lizzie lowered her gaze to their joint hands for a moment and then pulled away her fingers, wrapping them around her pint. Brun tried to keep a stoic expression on his face to hide how much that hurt him.
“No, it was nothing… It was ancient history too…” she tried to sound dismissive, but her eyes had acquired a stormy hue.
Brun remained silent, his gaze trained on hers and his attention to what she had to say was so intense that suddenly she heard herself saying, “Finn was my… my first boyfriend… You know…”
He seemed lost for a moment, but she clearly saw the moment when understanding dawned on him, because he stiffened, the muscles of his jaws contracted and Lizzie could nearly hear him gnashing his teeth.
What in God’s name possessed her to talk to Brun of all people about how she lost her virginity?
Nevertheless, once the cat was out of the bloody bag she did not seem able to shut her yapper and the words just poured out.
“I met Finn on my freshers’ week. He’s in Chemistry… no, Pharmacy. It was a bit of a mad time… I was too sheltered, boarding school and all… I had a couple of crushes before, a few kisses here and there, but had not yet, you know…”
Brun remained still as a statue staring at her, as if her words were the most important thing for him to hear and somehow that made her continue on the path of self-humiliation.
“Anyway, Finn was one of the first people I met. He was cute, clever… Liked reading too! I was not particularly attracted to him, to be honest. I guess I was just dying to get rid of my virgi–”
She cut herself when seeing that Brun had turned a little green.
“I’m sorry, I’m being gross…”
“No, Lizzie,” he reassured her, reaching for her hand again and this time she allowed him to hold it, “Please, go on.”
His tone was sympathetic, but his jaws were still tensed. She huffed, “Well, there’s not much more to tell. We went on a couple of dates and then, well it happened…”
“So you were… together after that?” he asked slowly, almost as if he did not want to hear her answer.
She shook her head, “Not at all… After that first and only night, Finn simply vanished. Poof! The first time in six years that I saw him was that day in Aberfeldy.”
Something dark flashed on Brun’s eyes. It was the shadow of a violence she did not know he harboured inside him. Suddenly the fact that he was truly a warrior became more palpable, more real and for the first time since the day he told her he was Fae, Lizzie felt scared.
“Are you saying that this man took advantage of you?” he pronounced each word very slowly, as if he were tasting something disgusting.
“Well…” she hesitated.
Had he? She had not been drunk or anything. She remembered everything and had of course wanted to have sex with him.
Hadn’t she?
She frowned, trying to recall how she ended up in bed with Finn that night. They had been to a party, but it had not been anything too wild: some drinks, some people doing drugs, of course, but as usual she had steered clear of anything heavy. There had been some dancing. Flirting. Laughter.
Normal stuff.
Finn had been charming. They had made out a few times before and she had found it pleasant, but now she could not recall why she had decided to take him to her flat and have sex with him that night.
She had never been particularly popular with the boys and when a hot guy like Finn showed interest in her, she thought that she had finally broken her path into spinsterhood. Perhaps as she had just blurted out, she was just feeling tired of being a virgin.
Which is a plausible explanation.
“Well,” she repeated, “I don’t know if I should put it like that. I knew what I was doing, if that’s what you’re asking, but I won’t lie to you: I had hoped he would stick around a little longer. Like, till morning at least? But after… after the deed, he vanished!” she sighed, “I was… I was quite upset for a while. I felt… used. When I saw him in Aberfeldy it just… It caught me by surprise, that’s why I was a little… off that day…”
Lizzie bit her lower lip and moved her eyes away from him. What she said was not entirely true.
Bumping into Finn in Aberfeldy had been a nasty surprise, but that had really only been the rotten cherry on top of the bitter cake she had been chewing on that day. Brun’s trip to Edinburgh had been the real cause of her foul mood.
However, not even under torture she would admit that to him.
Brun squeezed her fingers again, attracting her attention back to him.
“I am sorry, Lizzie. Truly. And thank you for sharing this with me. I am… I am honoured by your trust.”