Spellbound: The Awakening of Aislin Collins (17 page)

“Greer,” I smiled, still keeping my eyes shut
tightly for fear that my dreams would be disrupted if I dared to
open them.

“We must go my love. Wake now and we will
take a journey together.”

I carefully opened my eyes, hoping that his
voice would not leave me. He was standing at my bedside with one
hand outstretched for me to hold. I took his hand and moved from
the bed. He held me to him and kissed me. I looked back at the bed
to see my body still there, sleeping peacefully. I was alarmed and
froze where I stood. I looked down at my hands; they seemed the
same, solid and whole. Yet, there was my body in bed, causing the
covers to rise and fall with my soft breath.

“We are in spirit now,” Greer said, “Your
body is fine. There is something I need to show you.”

He took my hand and led me to a dark tunnel
that opened near the wall by my window. We walked into it and I
held his hand tightly. I was not afraid as we moved through the
darkness. We passed through the other end of the tunnel and stepped
onto a bridge.

We were in the countryside now and staring
through heavy fog towards a very large stone building. Stone walls
bordered the property, and the long path led us to enormous wooden
doors that were arched and adorned with rod iron. The castle was
built from dark stone and it stood ominously against the starlit
sky. We made our way to the doors and simply passed through them,
as though we were specters.

We entered into an enormous hall. It was
adorned with large paintings of great lords, and tapestries hung
high from the rafters. Fires were crackling from two large stone
hearths and firelight was bouncing off the shining dark wood
furniture. I knew this place.

“My ancestral home,” Greer smiled warmly as
he guided me toward the paintings that hung on the opposite side of
the staircase. “My father, his father, and all the way back for ten
generations.” He pointed to the long line of portraits.

He guided me up the long staircase and I let
my fingers drag against the perfectly polished cherry wood railing.
It felt like silk under my fingertips and I realized that this was
familiar to me as well. I had walked up this staircase many times
before.

We moved down a long corridor that was lit by
torches on each side and turned left down another passage, and then
took another left until we reached a massive wooden door that led
into a great room.

The floor was stone, as were the walls. Fur
hides were thrown on the floor near the fireside where two chairs
faced an empty hearth. In the far corner was a large bed with more
fur thrown on it. I walked over to it and remembered it from my
vision. I spun around and stared into the far left corner of the
room, expecting the Grey Man to appear there at any moment.

“We are safe Aislin.” He followed my gaze to
the corner, “I am amazed that you can remember that,” his voice
choked a little.

“I had a vision of this place on Samhain,” I
said, almost in a trance like state.

“Do you remember much of it?” Greer asked
tentatively.

I shook my head, “It was a short vision, but
I remember him . . . killing me.”

Greer wrapped his arms tightly around me,
“That was the worst day of my life,” he said sadly, “I never
thought I would see you again.”

“So, that was the past? That already
happened?” I felt my throat constrict with fear.

Greer nodded and looked down at me, “Yes, my
love. You saw into our past.”

“Why did he take me from you?”

“He is a witch hunter. We did not know that
he had been tracking you until that night. To this day, I do not
know if he had hunted you for sport, or if he was hired to do so.
All I know is that he waited for the moment when killing you would
have the most impact and inflict the most pain.”

I looked up to see a single tear trickle down
his cheek. I wiped it away and he kissed my hand as it passed by
his lips.

“What happened after I . . . ?” I trailed
off. Speaking of one's own death was eerie and rather
difficult.

Greer sat down on the bed and pulled me onto
his lap.

“It was our wedding night. We had been
married for only three hours when he took you from me. After, I
tried to hunt him, to track him down, but he disappeared as though
he was a ghost. It took a long while for my recovery to come and
though I was able to function, I was filled with emptiness that
only you had the ability to fill. He took everything from me that
night. My heart became bitter as my grief turned into rage. Malice
grew in that place of emptiness and I sought after any method I
could find to kill the man who destroyed our lives.

Few knew of him, but after searching from
town to town, I realized that he hunted witches. Families who had
lost loved ones told me of their experience with him. It was always
the same tale . . . he showed up like a specter and disappeared
without a trace, once his victims were murdered.

Sometimes he captured the witches and they
were publicly executed, sometimes it was a quieter act. A
poisoning, strangling . . . a single shot. I knew that he was not a
normal human. He had powers of some kind that I could not match.
For years, I tracked him and studied him. He had moved to London
and as a disguise, I went to University there.

I became an astronomy student and was able
to follow Lamont in the evening after my nightly lectures were
over. He was illusive and I became frustrated. I did not know how
to catch him or if I ever would be able to. I had no idea of how to
destroy him.” Greer looked away for a moment, as though the
memories were too strong to face.

“Please continue. I need to know,” I asked
softly, as I twisted a strand of his hair around my finger.

He nodded and started his tale again. “I had
heard other students talking about one of the astronomy teachers in
hushed tones. His name was Tobias Hunt, and rumors circulated that
he was a monster of some kind. At first, I laughed at such
ridiculous ideas, but as time dragged on, I became disparate. They
spoke of the teacher with fear and said that he was an astronomy
professor because he could not be out in the daylight. I dismissed
the students' claims, but my hatred towards Lamont was
paramount.

“I watched those around me find love and
marry and I was alone, without you. It drove me almost to madness
and I became desperate for revenge. One night, after our
observations were completed, I stayed behind as my peers left to
live their lives. I confronted Professor Hunt about the students'
claims and confessed that I had been following him for weeks. I
told him that I had documented many accounts of him hunting stray
animals and the occasional house pet that was left outside. Of
course, he accused me of madness, but I explained why I had come to
him and I begged him for help. He threatened to have me expelled
from school, but he never followed through with his threats and
after many months of my prodding, he relented.

“He confided in me that he understood my
anguish because he had lost his mother and sister to a witch
hunter, and he agreed to help me. He warned me that the
consequences of my request were great, that I would be destined to
live a life of eternity alone. I was so consumed with hatred that I
did not hesitate in convincing him that I was prepared for such a
fate, that I was living without hope of love or happiness
already.

“Finally, one night after class I was taken,
blindfolded, to a location where my teacher and his peers could
perform the ceremony . . . where I was to be inducted as one of
their kind. The counsel was against the idea of bringing me into
their fold and it took much convincing on the part of my teacher,
but he prevailed.

The ceremony was performed by the head of
their counsel. I remained blindfolded throughout the ritual and
never saw him, but I heard his voice speaking low in an unusual
accent. He spoke words over me in an ancient tongue. He asked me to
swear that I was prepared for the life I was requesting. My teacher
had warned me ahead of time that if I waivered, if I showed even
the slightest bit of hesitation when the leader asked me this
question, that I would not be turned into one of them. Instead, I
would be killed for knowing too much. Therefore, I did all I could
to show true commitment to my decision.

“The leader found my answer worthy and then
he handed me a bottle of strong liquor and told me to drink it all.
Numbness and sleep overtook me, and dulled the sensations as he
drained me of all my blood. I felt life being pulled out of my body
and I did not know if I could tolerate it any further, but
Professor Hunt kept saying your name Aislin. Over and over again,
he repeated your name and you gave me strength. All my thoughts
fell to you and I did not die. I was given blood to drink, the
blood of the man who performed the ceremony and after a time I grew
strong.”

“You are like Dearg-dul,” I barely
whispered.

“Aye, I am indeed,” his eyes were cast
downward.

“How did you find me?” I asked.

He stroked my cheek with the back of his
hand and looked upon me with pure love, “I found you only because I
was meant to. I thought that I had lost you forever. I was hunting
Lamont and had followed him across the ocean. He was coming to the
New World and I found a way to take passage on the same ship.”

“How did you recognize me…when you saw me at
the port?”

He stood from the bed and walked away from
me, heading towards the wall closest to us. He pulled a large
blanket off a painting that was hung high. The cream-colored cloth
rippled and fell to the ground. I looked up and saw a picture of a
woman in a long white dress, her hair was dark, her eyes both blue
and yet silver. She had on a dark red jeweled necklace—my necklace.
She and I were identical. I was looking at a portrait of
myself.

“How old is this painting?” I gasped.

“Nearly two hundred years,” he said
reminiscently, “You were the most breathtaking bride and that day
was the happiest I could remember being. That is until I saw you
standing on the port holding the same necklace that you wore in
that painting.”

“How did I come to find the same piece of
jewelry?” I asked in bewilderment.

Greer smiled, “You are full of magic Aislin.
Our souls must have been reaching out for each other all this time.
It does not surprise me that my wedding gift found its way back to
you.”

I reached up and touched my necklace, my
eyes still transfixed upon the painting. “I heard the story of
Dearg-dul today. I understand why you choose that life. I would
have done the same thing.”

“I would never want this for you Aislin,”
Greer said sternly, “This is not a pleasant existence. I always
struggle not to attack the humans that surround me. I live off of
animals and I hide for the fear of being discovered.”

“It was you? You were the one who killed all
the Marthaler's live stock?” I felt my eyes grow wide as I gazed at
him.

“It was my way of enacting revenge. I would
do a lot more than that if it would not endanger my ability to
protect you,” he said, as his eyes started darkening.

The sound of footsteps came from outside the
door. Greer reached for my hand, “We must go now. I would not want
to startle the servants as they make their rounds.”

“You have servants?” I snapped.

Greer laughed, “I have paid servants who work
for me and are treated very well.”

Another dark tunnel opened up for us at the
doorway, and we walked through it together. On the other end, we
found my room and I saw Sneachta curled up in bed next to my body.
My breath was smooth and even. Greer walked me over to my bedside
and told me to lie down into my body. After I did so, I awoke
gasping for air as I sat straight up. The room was growing dark now
as night was settling on Burlington. I could not see Greer but I
knew he was watching me.

“I love you,” I whispered and felt a hand
brush against my face.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Zachariah, Abigail, and I were sitting in a
cramped carriage their father had hired to take us to the
Philadelphia port. Abigail needed to pick up fabric for her wedding
gown, and I was instructed to tend to Zachariah. The port was far
from our town of Burlington and once again, it made no sense to
spend the day traveling to and from Philadelphia when we had a busy
and full port in our own town. Nevertheless, this was Mrs.
Marthaler's request and so we were all forced to spend the day
traveling in the stuffy carriage, whilst Mrs. Marthaler got to stay
in the comfort of her home. It seemed rather unfair—especially when
it meant that I was stuck being in such close proximity to
Zachariah.

“Sit by me,” Zachariah demanded, as he yanked
at my dress with his good hand.

“I am comfortable here,” I said from where I
was sitting next to Abigail.

Becky, who had been charged with tending to
me, had been forced to sit up front next to the driver. According
to the Marthalers, it was not proper to have slaves riding along
with you in the carriage.

Abigail was humming to herself and seemed to
be lost in fantasy. She did not even notice the constant bickering
between Zachariah and I.

Gillis Sutphin had written to Abigail's
father to inform him that he would be leaving Virginia to meet his
new bride. Abigail was excited at the prospect and had been working
on her hope chest, stuffing everything she could think of in it.
Now we were tasked with finding the material for her wedding gown
and any other trinkets she felt were necessary.

They were to be married soon after his
arrival. Weather would not permit them to travel in comfort back to
Virginia, so Mr. Sutphin and Mr. Marthaler had reached an agreement
on Abigail's dowry. A substantial plot of the Marthaler land was to
be given to Mr. Sutphin as a second home. Unbeknownst to us, the
ground hand been broken months earlier for just this reason and now
a decent sized home stood proudly on the property. Abigail thought
that I could look after the home for her when she was in Virginia
and I was busy being married to her dear brother.