Page 8 of Once Upon A Haunted Castle
Lack of food, drink, sleep. The extreme torment of watching her parents be hacked to death by her mother’s own blood had gotten to her. Taken away her ability to manage. Her sanity. She was going mad.
That was it. Why else would she imagine a dead laird coming to her and promising her protection from the grave if only she agreed to be a ghost herself? But not just any ghost, aglaistig, one that haunted anyone who lived on these lands for all eternity.
“I canna…” she whispered. “I willna.”
She wanted to protect her family, her brother, but chances were Erik was already dead. Killed by their Norse relatives. And if he wasn’t, then she’d already told Beiste MacDougall of his obligation to her family. He would see their clan protected. Find her brother if he was still alive. She had no doubt that he would honor that vow. Well, mostly no doubt. If he were honorable, he would see to the people even though his father’s death would have paid the debt in his own eyes since she’d not been fully honest with him.
All that aside, she…she wouldn’t be a haunting thing. She couldn’t. When the Lord saw fit to take her from this world, then she wanted to rest in eternal peace. Not be doomed to walk the earth forever. With Beiste protecting the Cam’béals, she need not risk her own soul or sanity.
“I need your word, lass. A blood oath. Let me help ye.”
The laird’s voice was crisp and clear, right next to her. She rolled her head to the side to see that his shadowy figure had taken up residence in a chair, relaxing as though he had all day to wait her out. All eternity, in fact.
“How do I even know if ye’re real?”
“I am real.”
“The word of a specter in my imagination.”
“Ask me anything. I will know the answer.”
“Only because I have made ye up.”
“’Haps. ’Haps not.”
“How did ye die?”
“I was attacked on the road. By the men outside fighting right now. The verra same who besieged Castle Gloom, the verra reason ye sent for me.”
“I dinna believe in ghosts.” This was a complete lie. Since she was a little girl, she’d often conversed with faint visions. With fairies, with people of her family’s past. In the dark, sometimes the beings frightened her. At other times, she felt a serene sense of calm.
Though she tried to push the old laird off as nothing more than a hallucination, part of her knew he was real.
“I want to go home.”
“Make the oath and I will see it done.”
“Blood,” she murmured, closing her eyes, again picturing her parents’ slaughter by Bjork. If only she’d been able to gut him first. To gain enough strength to take on his entire army on her own. Oh, how she would have loved to watch him bleed.
And now this. This promise, this blood oath. Her soul for the fairies to keep.Nay, nay, nay.
Elle looked back up at the ceiling, shaking her head, tears stinging her eyes. This was not a decision she could make. Who could? Who could rightly say they’d be happy walking the earth for all eternity, never having peace?
“I’m sorry, Erik,” she whispered. “I have failed ye. I am weak. I am a coward.”
Elle rolled onto her belly, pushing up to her hands and knees, feeling the wood jut into her palms, her kneecaps. She somehow found the strength to stand, albeit with a slight tremble.
“Ah, so ye have agreed.” The ghost of MacDougall stood, a smile crinkling his eyes. “I canna hold on to a dagger, so I’ll need ye to use your own. Just a tiny prick upon your finger should suffice. Sign your name upon the stone.”
Elle shook her head, staring down at her trembling hands.
“Aye. It must be done with a blood oath.”
“I will not.” Her voice was surprisingly strong. Her spine straight, rigid. She’d made up her mind. Eternal damnation was not the price she wanted to pay. Her mother and father would forgive her.
Erik may not, but he was either already gone or would soon be found by Beiste MacDougall. Either way, his fate was no longer in her hands.
Tingles prickled up and down her arms and legs. Her feet were numb. That same cloudy feeling still filled her skull with a pressure intense enough to make her think of an avalanche of snow crashing down a Highland mountain.
