The second was of the spelled plaque, still painted with me portrait, staring back at me. A reminder of the day me life had changed forever.
The first two images were shocking, but it was the third that caused me hands to shake and me breath to come out unsteadily as I glanced up at Gwendolyn. She only smiled softly, waiting for me to speak.
The third photograph was less a picture and more of a painted portrait, depicting people I’d known in me old life. Alasdair, young and vibrant, holding a baby Arran in his arms, while Eoin, no more than five, stood next to his father, only knee high. Alasdair’s other arm was draped around a woman’s shoulder, squeezing her tightly with affection. The woman was not Alasdair’s late wife, she’d died giving birth to Arran, and I knew there was only one other person the woman could be. The witch, Morna.
While her face in the portrait was younger, it matched Gwendolyn’s exactly.
*
Gwendolyn eventually gave up on waiting for me to respond. Laughing heartily, she reached out and squeezed me hand. “Come, dear. Surely after all you’ve been through, nothing can be too much of a surprise to you.”
I looked over at Jerry who only nodded in confirmation. “Do ye mean? How could ye be her? She died when I was a very small child.”
“There are a far manner of things, dear, that seem impossible. Surely this is no more impossible than you sitting here in this century when you were born in another, aye?”
Gwendolyn slowly lost the American accent she’d been using the entire time I’d known her. She was right. After all I’d been through, I had no trouble believing her, but I dinna understand why.
“If ye could end up here after yer own death, then why would ye bother with the spell for me and Bri? Could ye no have stopped the massacre yerself?”
Gwendolyn, or Morna, I wasn’t sure which name was now appropriate, smiled as if expecting my question.
“Because, lass, there are more important things than life and death. Me spell put into motion other things just as important as saving the lives of me family members. Souls needed to meet. Souls that belonged together, despite being born centuries apart. Without me spell, that could never have been.”
“Do ye mean Eoin and Bri?” Looking at her more closely, I noticed a resemblance to Alasdair, Eoin, and Arran that I’d never seen before. The shape of their eyes, the slant of their smiles, all strong Conall traits that made me trust her story even more.
“Aye. Eoin and Bri. Not to mention, there was me own lad, who dinna exist in me own time. Instead of saving me family meself, I chose to sit back and watch over those who would save them, while at the same time finding the man I was meant to love.”
“Ye mean, Jerry isna like ye?”
Jerry cackled and coughed before he spoke. “Oh no, lassie! I was born right here, in this time and if I had the gift of magic like her, I’d have stopped me knees from cracking long ago.”
Gwendolyn frowned in Jerry’s direction. “I’ve told ye before, I could stop it for ye meself, but ye willna let me.” She turned toward me once more. “He accepts the truth, but it all still makes him a wee bit uncomfortable. He willna let me use magic on him.”
“So ye mean ye knew I wasna Bri?”
“Aye, lass. But I’ll tell ye, I dinna expect ye to stay here and Adelle to go back. Me visions dinna show me that. Perhaps they dinna want me to try and stop it from happening. Are ye certain that ye wish to stay here?”
Panic shot through me at the thought of going back. I answered too quickly, startling both Gwendolyn and Jerry. “Aye! I canna go back.”
Gwendolyn’s face softened, her eyes showing that she understood. “Alright, lass. Well, what is it that ye want to do now? We shall help ye get settled wherever ye’d like to go. Do ye wish to stay in Scotland?”
I’d given it no thought. I’d been too concerned with what I was going to tell them and whether or not Adelle and Bri had been able to stop the massacre to think much further into me future than a few moments. “I’m no sure. I doona know what to do.”
Jerry leaned over and squeezed my hand, and there was no doubt in me mind that Gwendolyn had chosen well. Her husband was the best of men, kind to his core.
Gwendolyn waved a hand in the air as if dismissing my concern. “Doona worry. Why doona we help ye get settled in Edinburgh? We could get ye a job and a place to stay, and ye can see how ye like it for a while. If ye decide later that ye’d like to go elsewhere, then we’ll be more than happy to help ye.”
“Aye, that will be fine. Thank ye. I suppose ye shall be glad to have another empty room for guests, aye?”
Gwendolyn stood and motioned for me to do the same as we made our way to the stairs. Clearly, we were all about to retire for the evening.
“Lass, we doona allow other guests. Ye are the only one who knows this house is here. Only yerself and those I wish to see it can see this house along the side of the road. We’d be overrun with tourists, otherwise.”
Chapter 2
Conall Castle
Scotland
1646