Mara's Secret
Felicia Rogers
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
Publisher’s Note:
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and events are the work of the author’s imagination.
Any resemblance to real persons, places, or events is coincidental.
Revised version (NM) – January 2012
Solstice Publishing - www.solsticepublishing.com
Felicia Rogers © 2011
First of all, I must thank my Lord Jesus Christ for without Him I could do nothing. I would like to thank my huband for his plotting skills. And special thanks goes to Kim Knoll who tirelessly reads my work and gives valuable comments.
Thanks to Kaity Gatchell who runs Bitten Books Blog for her time in reading the first book in the series and giving me her honest opinion. Thanks to Mary Beeson from the Mystic Thoughts for reading and reviewing The Key and her kind words.
And last but not least, Rhonda Helton. A woman who has went out of her way to encourage me as an author and lift me up as a person.
To anyone else who took time to read The Key, I thank you.
Prologue
“Where am I?”
The cold from the wet ground seeped through his thin clothing. Placing an arm underneath his tired battered body, he pushed up to a sitting position. Weakness overwhelmed him and he fell back with a groan.
“There he is, Pa. I told y’ he was a beaut! Now all we have to do is get ’em home and have Ma put the kettle on. We’ll be having stew tonight.”
Dougal rolled to his side and tried to stand but it was no use. Muscles limp, he lay against the thick patch of grass and tried to remember what happened and how he’d come to be here.
* * * *
“Dougal, where is she?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, ‘you don’t know’?”
“I don’t know, okay? Maddie disappeared from view before I could get to her.”
Chase was fully healed and remained in his Gryphon form. He grabbed Dougal by the scruff of the neck and twisted until he yelped in pain. “You’re going to get her back! She did this for you! Now your accomplice is lying dead out there on the ground and those black flying friends of yours are plotting to take over the world!”
“I know,” Dougal whispered.
“Then what are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Dougal, why did you want them freed in the first place? I don’t believe you sacrificed Maddie for power.”
Dougal grimaced. “Cahal is my father.”
Chase didn’t say a word. After a brief moment, Dougal continued. “My mother was one of the women he kidnapped from the Irish village. She was taken against her will and I was the by-product. She loved me dearly. Every day, she told me I didn’t have to be like him, but the villagers didn’t see it that way. I stayed in my human form as much as possible but sometimes the beast would arise and I would do something atrocious. Cian tried to help me. But, in my mind, he had imprisoned my father. He was the reason for my problem, so I refused his help.”
“So what did you do?”
“I met Serena. She was a druid who lived secretly in the village. She fell in love with my father while she was his captive; Stockholm syndrome, I believe it’s called. Anyway, she fell in love with him and offered her soul to be able to remain with him forever. When he was taken from her, she turned into a hideous beast. She sought me out and convinced me we could open the tower and both be free.”
“So for a hundred years all you’ve done is tried to seek out a key for this door? You could’ve been doing all manner of things and this is what you chose to do?”
“Seems like a waste, huh?”
“Yeah, it does. How did you even know how to open the door?”
“Serena knew all that. She was the one who told me we needed a daughter from the line of Arin. She was the one who knew the girl had to be willing to open the door, and she was the one who knew the old legends.”
“She was probably the one who knew how to rescue Maddie.”
“Yeah, probably.”
While the two of them sat there thinking about what they were going to do next, they heard a voice: “What are you doing sitting there? We can’t rescue Maddie unless you two get out there and help Gregory round up the black Gryphon.”
“Mrs. Casey?”
“Draoi, remember? I’m named for the druids of old. And if Serena knows how to get a daughter of Arin in, you better believe I know how to get one out. Now get out there and round them up.”
“How?”
“Here’s what you do.”
A plan was devised. As Dougal and Chase worked side by side, Dougal said, “I’m sorry. I was blinded by selfish desires.”
“Humph.”
“Do you think Maddie will forgive me?”
“I don’t know.”
“You realize I care for her, right?”
“Yeah, I thought so.”
“You know, if wasn't for her, I wouldn’t be helping you. I would let you all die. She is one of the few humans to be nice to me. She told Draoi, I was her friend.”
Startled, Chase asked, “When did she do that?”
“When she visited Draoi in the ICU.”
“How did you know?”
“I was listening.”
“You mean eavesdropping.”
“Yeah, I guess I was. I must tell Draoi sorry for that as well. If not for Serena she would never have been in the hospital in the first place. I’m still not sure what Serena did to her. I wasn’t close enough to tell.”
Chase didn’t reply. A crowd of black winged creatures headed their way. “Look alive, here they come.”
They screamed and shouted, from inside the tower, using the hollowness of the building to make their voices echo and sound like a whole host of people rather than just two. As the black Gryphon entered, Cahal looked up, saw Dougal and stopped.
“He knows,” whispered Dougal.
The others rushed inside following, Gregory, but Cahal stayed behind.
Outside the gate, Dougal transformed.
“No!” shouted Chase. It was too soon.
Dougal took flight and landed in front of Cahal.
Cahal didn’t shout out or try to rescue his brothers who were already locked inside. He just stared at Dougal. “Father?”
An evil laugh fell from the giant’s lips. “Father, you say? Are you the son of Serena? For you do not belong to me.”
“Yes, I do. You’re my father. Don’t you remember Caitir? You took her from her family. When she returned home, she had me.”
“Of course I don’t remember! How can you expect me to remember every child I sired with those village wenches?”
Chase transformed and flew down, standing a good distance behind Dougal. He could feel Dougal’s rage and pitied him.
All this time Dougal dreamed of fitting in. He thought if only he could rescue his father, they would be a family, but all his hope was dashed with one simple statement.
“You’re telling me I’ve spent my whole life trying to save you and you don’t even remember my mother?”
“I’m afraid so. But you did save me. Since all my brothers are locked up in the prison again, how would you like to help me rule the world?”
Dougal stretched to his full height, spreading his wings as far as they would go. He yelled, “Chase, tell Maddie I loved her.”
Dougal took flight, swooping straight toward his awed father, and pushed him through the open tower door.
Once inside the tower, Dougal was trapped. He saved them all, but in the process sacrificed himself…
Chapter One
“Can I keep ’im, Ma?” Maude asked.
“No y’ canna keep ’im. Y’ don’t have any idea where the thing has been.”
“Ma, taint it obvious where the lad has been. Look at all his scars. He’s been in the war. From the looks of him, he must have gone up and abandoned his men.” The old man shook his head. “Sure looks like a deserter to me. Surprised the feller ain’t been shot by now. You heard about them two boys who were on their way home. Poor fellers was let out of the war, dun served they time. Got plenty close to home and the neighbors thought they’d deserted so they shot ’em.” Pa paused, before adding, “Maybe this one was in a battle and they thought he was dead, and they left ’im behind. Maybe that’s why they didn’t shoot ’im.”
“Should we turn him in, Pa?”
“Naw, Junior. Let the poor soul rest. I bet he’s seen things we can only imagine.”
The fussing over Dougal continued as he dropped back off into a deep sleep.
Later, much later, when he awoke, he was alone in the small cabin. His eyelids felt heavy as he opened them and took in the surrounding area. The walls were made of thick logs placed together and notched at the ends. Mud was caked in between, probably to keep out the wind. Upon one wall rested a stone fireplace, cold from lack of use. Upon another wall was a full sized bed. In the middle of the room sat a large, rough, wooden table with six chairs.
Dougal’s chest felt tight. Thick, heavy covers lay across him, and beneath them sweat covered his frame. Grabbing the edge of a homemade quilt, he pushed the blankets aside, swung his legs around and placed his feet flat on the floor. The planks felt like they had come from a freezer. Suddenly a burst of cold air rushed through the open door and threatened to send him right back under the mound.
Looking around for a pair of shoes, socks, or anything to cover his feet, a tingle ran up his spine. His head rose in time for him to catch a shadowy figure in the doorway. Not a sound had he heard since he awoke. He had believed he was alone. But he was wrong.
There, in the doorway stood a beautiful young girl.
She appeared as nothing more than a thin wisp with long thick black hair flowing down to her waist. Her eyes resembled the color of blue steel. The white dress she wore wrapped around her small frame was almost translucent. Her beauty reminded him of a statue in a museum. Leaning against the door, her hands twisted in the material of the gown, as fear flitted across her face. Reaching out his hand to touch the ghostly figure, Dougal tried to speak but his throat was dry and all that came out was a croaking sound.
A moan escaped the girl’s lips as she turned on her heel and fled.
Dougal’s energy was spent. He lay back against the mattress, pulled the heavy load upon him, and fell into sleep once more.
When he woke this time, the room was filled with noise and activity. The family who had taken him in appeared to be in the middle of their afternoon meal. He remained still, and listened.
If he was correct, somehow he’d been transported to the southern U.S. in the early 1860s. Bits and pieces of earlier conversations flooded back. The family believed he was a soldier in the Civil War who had abandoned his unit, a deserter.
Opening his eyes, he studied the family. A mother, father, and three children sat around the neat wooden table. A ladle was lifted and a spoonful of steaming liquid was placed in each raised bowl. The smell threatened to be his undoing. His stomach growled loudly, announcing his state of alertness.
At the sound, one of the girls turned and stared at him. She stood and ambled toward him. Her small, round frame reached his side and leaned down. Shoulder-length blonde hair was pulled back in a severe bun, highlighting defined cheekbones and hazel eyes. A smile tugged at the corners of her rosy lips as she allowed the direction of her gaze to follow the length of the bed and thereby his body.
“I think he’s awake, Pa.”
“Good. Get him some food.”
She smiled, showing a row of perfectly straight teeth. “Are you hungry?”
Dougal nodded and the girl shuffled back to the table and retrieved a bowl of food. When she returned, she pulled up a chair, settled her curved body and began to spoon food into his mouth.
He shifted his lips upward in a grin. A flush covered the girl’s lily-white skin, and she blinked, looking away. There had been no opportunity to study his appearance, but he was glad to know his good looks appeared intact. At least he still had the ability to make a young girl blush.
The girl spooned warm broth into his mouth. Then as if she couldn’t stand it any longer, she jumped from her chair, sending the bowl flying through the air and landing upside down on the floor, the hot liquid spilling forth. Dougal looked at the food and sighed. It was good while it lasted.
“Maude, what are you thinkin’, child!” came her mother’s irritated voice.
Dougal’s eyes widened as Maude ran to her parents and screamed with delight.
“Ma! He smiled at me! Can you believe it? He is one mighty fine specimen. Should we send for the preacher?”
What twilight zone had he been dumped into? With two fingers, Dougal pinched himself. Nope, he wasn’t dreaming. This had to be a nightmare, right? Next thing you know, he’d be standing in front of a clapboard church with shotguns cocked on either side while he waited in the middle for his fate to be sealed; all the while wondering how he had gotten here.
There was another girl in the room. Her looks resembled the girl from last night’s dream. Dougal wasn’t sure if the lass was real. The family hadn’t acknowledged her presence. At Maude’s declaration, steel gray eyes filled with horror. Was the goddess a dream?
Pa spoke. “Now, Maude, you stop with such silly talk. You’re upsetting Mara.”
Mara…
As if Dougal had spoken the name aloud, the other girl glanced in his direction. Mara was the lass who had stared at him from the doorway. The one who fled when he looked upon her. The girl was real? And more beautiful in the light of day than in his dream.
The black hair that once hung freely was now pulled back into a braid. Nimble fingers worked at the table, shelling beans. As the green husk was removed, one white crisp bean was popped into an open mouth. Dougal fought the urge to salivate as each morsel touched the tip of her tongue.
Dougal could see the wee lass trembling. Fiercely shaking, her chair began to bounce. What happened to cause her such distress?
“Mara?” asked Ma. “What’s wrong with you?”
Mara didn’t answer as she bolted for the door, sending her chair reeling backwards and crashing with a loud sound.
No one moved. Then, as if nothing had happened, Maude sat down in the chair, plopped an elbow on the table, cradled a double chin in her hand and in a nasally wistful tone, began to whine, “I ain’t never goin’ to get married. Every time someone looks at me, you say no. It ain’t fair.”
“Now, Maude, we done been over this. Y’ is spoken for. Y’ can’t just go off and try for another beau. It ain’t fittin’.”
Maude’s fingers plucked at a string on her dress. She looked up, and her gaze fell on Dougal.
He shifted uncomfortably.
Her gaze unwavering, she said, “But he’s purdy.”
Where was a hole when you needed one? Dougal wanted to get out of this crazy house. He had no intentions of marrying Maude or anyone else. Nor did he have any intentions of being taken back by an army he never joined in the first place. How he’d gotten here and why, those were his current concerns. Little else claimed his attention at the moment.
Ma leaned forward and patted Maude’s hand. “We ain’t arguing about that. What I’m sayin’—”
“What did y’ mean?” interrupted Pa.
“Mean by what?”
“By what y’ just said?”
“I don’t understand y’.”
“Are you tryin’ to say y’ find this here feller attractive?”
Ma leaned over the table and stared into Pa’s eyes. “Y’ don’t need to worry, dear. I haven’t seen an attractive man in the last twenty-five years.”
Dougal restrained his laughter as the old man attempted to use his fingers and toes to decide whether he should be offended or not.
Chapter Two
Barry O’Brien stood in the doorway of the two- story colonial home. The heat was stifling on this August day in Coal Creek, the grass shaded an ugly color of brown. If he hadn’t known better, he might have thought his slave, Elijah, neglected the job of watering. An issue to address upon his return, no doubt. At times, being the master of so much was an extremely trying occupation.
Today was Monday and the day he rode into town. The carriage waited in front of the house to take him to his weekly residence. This morning, the wife had taken a case of the vapors and wouldn’t be traveling with him. He couldn’t have been happier. The woman could be quite a handful.
Barry sauntered to the carriage. A gold pocket watch dangled from his hand. Glancing at the time, a frown dotted his brow. The horses pawed the ground anxiously, ready to get under way, but where was Elijah? The delay in departure would make him late for his appointment.
“Elijah?” Barry yelled.
“Yes, massa,” came a reply from the other side of the carriage.
“Ah, there you are. I’m ready to go.”
“Should we wait on the mistress, sir?”
“No. She won’t be traveling with me today.”
“Verra well, sir. Verra well.”
Barry climbed inside the carriage. Closing the door to keep out the dust, he settled back against the bench and braced himself as Elijah jerked into motion. Elijah was his most favored slave. Why, he was almost like family.
Barry’s mind ran over all the good things he’d done for Elijah. He allowed Elijah to have a wife and had given him decent clothing. And anyone could see how well the slave ate. Why, Elijah had once even sat at the house’s dining room table. The idea of a war to free the colored man was naught but a way for the North to control the South. In his estimation there was no need to worry on the matter. As long as one prepared for either eventuality, they would be safe.
As the carriage bumped and jostled down the dirt road, he thought of all the business he needed to transact this week. By the time town was reached, he knew what needed to be done.
Barry tapped on the ceiling with his cane. “Elijah, please take me to the hotel first.”
They rode for another few minutes and then the carriage lurched to a stop.