He shrugged. “Not one I find much use for.”
What on earth did that mean? “Well, I would like to know it anyway.”
“MacRoich, Cade MacRoich.”
No, I didn’t know any Cade MacRoichs. Suddenly another thought hit me. “If I was lured down here last weekend, and all that about those corpse dogs-”
“Cumorrig,” he interrupted.
“Okay,” I said, not really caring what fancy name he wanted to give them, “If I wasn’t dreaming, why did I wake up in my room?”
Cade grimaced. “I don’t think you’ll like my answer.”
I gestured for him to continue. I didn’t think I would like it either, but it seemed important that I know.
“I carried you.”
“Okay, thanks for clearing that all up, but I think I’ll get back home now.”
The last thing I needed was some creepy stalker who broke into my house in the middle of the night, no matter how kind the gesture or how attractive he was.
“Meghan, wait.”
I froze and got my pepper spray ready, all the while trying to convince the little hairs on the back of my neck to calm down. I turned, my eyes narrowing even as my heart sped up.
“And just how is it that you know my name?”
He didn’t answer. He only stood still as a statue, his dark green eyes studying me carefully. It should have creeped me out even more but it didn’t. I worked up my courage.
“And how did you get into my room without waking up the entire house?”
“You left the door open when you sleepwalked into the swamp.”
Fair enough. “But how did you know where I lived?”
“Fergus showed me.”
I glanced over at the grayish-white wolfhound. He had an intelligence about his gaze, but I never heard of a dog who could lead someone to an exact location that wasn’t his own home.
I took a breath and relaxed, but only a little. “Listen, I appreciate you helping me the other night, I really do. But this is getting a little too weird for me, and I have too much weird in my life as it is.”
I turned to walk away.
“Meghan, did you hear voices growing up?”
I froze. I forgot about why it worried me that he knew my name or where I lived. He could have figured that all out in the past few days by simply paying attention. But to know about my childhood? That was some serious stalking.
“Especially around trees. Did you think they spoke to you?”
His voice was gentle, and even though he moved slowly and carefully towards me, I felt like a rabbit about to spring away from a fox. How could he know this? The sound of the wailing voices and the image of the trees cracking at their bases flooded back to me, the memory blurred at the edges like a water-stained document.
I cried out and stepped back. “Stay away from me,” I hissed, the emotion in my voice thick.
“I already know you’ve seen strange things. Gnomes you called them, and the Cumorrig. Do you often have nightmares or have visions of things before they happen?”
My head was spinning and it felt like I couldn’t pull enough oxygen into my lungs. I stumbled as I took a step back. The golden light of dawn pierced through the trees the way water flowed through a sieve. I didn’t care about how beautiful it was. Right then it seemed as if the split sunlight were a thousand probes, searching me out and prying into my mind.
Who are you Meghan Elam?
What
are you?
they seemed to taunt as Cade’s questions hit more and more closely to home.
I hadn’t realized he had moved closer, and his voice, now a whisper, made me jump.
“And your eyes . . . what color are they?”
I looked up into his, frightened and overwhelmed and enchanted all in the same breath. I could hear his strong heartbeat, though he was careful to keep his distance. His own eyes, I had once decided were a very dark green were now paler, more golden than before. It hadn’t been a trick of the light, it hadn’t been my miscalculation. They had changed, just as mine changed.
“You see, they were silver when I first met you, but that could have been a result of the moonlight. They were hazel when you arrived fifteen minutes ago, but now they are almost blue. Your eyes change color, of their own accord, don’t they?”
And just like that, the spell he had me under snapped. I felt suddenly angry, and terrified. I pushed at his chest and realized it was like trying to move a mountain. Somehow I managed to shove him away, and then I took advantage of his slight surprise and put distance between us.
“Leave me alone!” I shrieked. “You come near me again, you
freak
, and I’ll call the cops!”
I bolted, sprinting up the horse path as fast as I could. I still clutched the pepper spray, and I couldn’t say why I hadn’t used it. That would have slowed him down, surely.
I never heard him come after me and even as I climbed the slope and stumbled onto our shaded back lawn, I didn’t look back. It was like the day the gnomes chased me all over again, but this time I was not escaping some horrible little creatures, I was fleeing from an incredibly good-looking guy who could very well understand me completely. I was either saving myself from that serial killer I always imagined lived down in the swamp, or I had finally gone over the deep end.
Message
For two weeks I ignored what had happened the morning I met Cade for the second time. I never saw him at school posing as the homeless man. It had dawned upon me later that day, once I was safely and securely locked away in my room, that all this time it was him who had been lingering outside my high school. Well, that and the fact that the memories from the night I had wandered into the swamp started surfacing in my mind, like bubbles of wax in my lava lamp. I never ventured outside my house, and I never saw his dog Fergus. It was hard forgetting about what he said, though. If I had been completely honest, I would have answered yes to each of his questions. I did hear voices, I did see things, and my eyes did change color. But so had his, I was certain of it.
My friends at school noticed my behavior too. Thomas asked me that first week if I had gotten into a fight with my parents. I had looked at him as if he had gone nuts, but he just shrugged and said I seemed more introverted than usual. After that I tried to act more normal. Well, normal for me at least.
But the truth was, as hard as I tried, I simply could not erase that meeting with Cade MacRoich from my memory. If that was his real name. Who on earth was he? A local college student looking for a little thrill in his life? Some ex-convict with spare time on his hands? And how could he have known about all my little eccentricities? Even my best friends weren’t privy to all my secrets. And why was he so interested in me? I was no one special. It was too puzzling, and I was determined to let it go. I had enough drama in my life.
It was during Thanksgiving weekend that I found the note taped to my sliding glass door. I had kept it locked around the clock and never used it since returning from the strange meeting with Cade. I feared he might try to sneak in and kill me.
At first I thought it was a message from Tully or Robyn, but when I unlocked the door and peeled the note off, I realized the paper was far too ornate to belong to either of them. It was expensive paper, I could tell, and falling victim to my curiosity, I flipped it over. There was an actual wax seal keeping the folded edges shut. I studied the design. An ornate Celtic knot with an eagle in the center. Intrigued, I walked to my desk and fished out my pocket knife, carefully loosening the seal so it wouldn’t break. I opened up the letter to find it addressed to me. The writing was impeccable, but not overly ornate. It made me think of a love note that’d been written during England’s Georgian period. Hah. Me get a love letter? That would be stranger than fiction.
I began to read and immediately I knew it was from Cade. I had vowed to forget what had happened, but apparently, he hadn’t. I should have crumpled it up and thrown it away, right then and there. Or, better yet, I should have taken it straight to my parents and insisted they call the police. Who would have thought that I would ever have a stalker? But deep down, I wanted this mystery cleared up, and the only way to do that was to start by reading this note. Sighing and trying to convince myself nothing bad would come of reading a simple letter, I continued on:
Dear Meghan,
I want to start this letter by apologizing for our last two meetings. As you can tell, I am not at all adept at making proper introductions. Forgive me for not contacting you sooner, but I thought it best to give you some time to let everything settle in. I wish only to make you aware of two things: who it is you really are, and where it is you come from. I will not go into detail in this letter, for these are not topics which should be discussed in such an impersonal manner. Do allow me, however, to explain our first meeting. You were lured into the swamp, not by myself, but by another who knew of you and who wished to learn more about you. I cannot remember if I explained my presence in the first place, but it was my duty to clear the area around your home of the faelah, and I was unable to finish my job before you arrived. I can only apologize to you again and hope that you might come to forgive me.
Another matter that seemed to disturb you was the fact that I did indeed return to your residence after you became unconscious after the whole incident. Please believe me when I say that nothing ungentlemanly occurred; I merely wished to see you safe at home, and though you may not believe it, Fergus is a rather clever hound and he did lead the way. On the matter of knowing your name, I must postpone that information until we meet again. I realize this is all shocking to you, but if you try to contact the police, they will not find me. I would not blame you if you did, but you must trust me on this matter.
I will not approach you or seek you out. I shall simply wait until you are ready to learn more. When you are prepared to meet with me again, leave me a note in the hollow knothole of the oak tree along the swamp trail, the tree that is closest to your home. In the mean time, should you find your curiosity unquenchable, I suggest you learn as much about the ancient Celts as you can.
Most sincerely,
Cade MacRoich
I finished the letter and dropped it into my lap, and after a moment I picked it up and read it again. Who wrote letters like that anymore? The language was so,
antiquated
. When I gave it some thought, it dawned upon me that when he had spoken to me in the swamp, he hadn’t sounded like he was from this decade, or even this century. It was extremely odd, but then again, I attracted odd the way flowers attract bees.
I glanced up at the blank screen of what used to be my dad’s old work computer. So much for forgetting about all that had happened in the past few weeks. I didn’t know how long I stared, numb and scared, at that old monitor but at some point in time, three things clicked in my head.
First, whether all this was a hallucination or not, it was happening and I had to address it. No more pushing it aside and hoping it would go away.
Secondly, I had another option. My whole life my only choices with regards to my issues had been therapy and medication. Cade offered a third possibility; that all this was real and that he could explain it all to me. Unlikely and crazy as it seemed, I shouldn’t shun it simply because modern society would label me mentally unstable. News flash: I was halfway there already.
And last but not least, I was curious. There, I admitted it. I was one hundred percent, flat out fascinated with what Cade MacRoich had presented to me. Of course, I was terrified as well, but I had always been the type to tackle a good mystery and I was never satisfied with a cover-up story if I felt all the clues hadn’t added up.
So, taking a deep breath, I pulled out my binder, flipped to a blank sheet of paper and jotted down the words
faelah
and
ancient Celts
. I was curious, yes, but I was going to go about this the right way. Before meeting with Cade again, I was going to do my research; see how much I could find out on my own. Perhaps I would learn he was the crazy one after all.
* * *
I couldn’t find much time to research, what with midterms coming up before the winter break, but I did manage to get in a few internet searches and was rather satisfied with the results.
First I searched for the term
faelah
, and of course, nothing came up. I wasn’t surprised. I had never heard the word before in my life. Next, I searched for information on the ancient Celts. This proved to be much more promising when a hefty list of websites popped up on the screen. I clicked on one that looked legitimate and was immediately faced with a page full of knot work designs and more lists.
I skimmed the introduction and read the overview. It told me that the Celts were a group of ancient people who inhabited the British Isles and some parts of mainland Europe. They were a tribal people and practiced a pagan religion. Okay, I knew that much from Robyn already. Weird how one of my friends was into this stuff and now I had some guy suggesting I research it.
Just a coincidence,
I told myself.