Spellbound: The Awakening of Aislin Collins (28 page)

“Is that Mr. Sutphin sitting with
Zachariah?”

Greer nodded, “Aye.”

I looked down at the man. He was dressed in
fine clothing, a dark grey wool coat, black britches and boots so
polished that the light danced upon them. He was a very broad man
and rather round in the middle. His hair was dark,
and gathered back into a low ponytail that was tied with a
red ribbon
, and a streak of grey colored hair ran through
the crown of his head, making him look rather like an old skunk.
His face was harsh and lined, and on his hands were many scars.

“They married Abigail off to an old pirate,”
Greer said in disgust.

“How can you tell?” I was alarmed by his
words.

“When he walks, he has the very specific gate
of one who has been at sea most of their life. And see those scars
on his hands? Those are rope burns. And that one on his cheek?
That's from a cutlass blade.”

“You can tell all that just from observing
him?” I asked in astonishment.

“When you have been alive as long as I have,
you pick up a thing or two.”

I looked down at the man and made note of all
that Greer had pointed out.

“Have they said anything interesting?” I
asked.

Greer ran his hand through his hair and
sighed, “No … not yet at least. Once the ale kicks in, they may
start loosening up.”

“It hasn't kicked it yet?”

My eyes widened at the sight of the two
drunken men who had linked their arms. They slurred the words to an
old English sailing song and slammed their free hands on the table
to keep time.

“Not yet. These men are accustomed to
drinking. It will take a while for them to truly feel the effects
and loosen their tongues.”

We peered down at the tavern floor for a long
while. The men kept singing, the ale kept being delivered and we
sat in silence until finally, I could take it no longer.

“Why haven't you come to see me?” I asked,
while trying to hide the sorrow that was straining to break
free.

“I do not trust myself Aislin. I thought you
understood that?” his gaze was fixed upon the men. He did not look
at me.

“When we are married, will you leave me every
month then?” I whispered.

Greer's head snapped up and he turned his
attention to me, “I do not plan on leaving you, but I also assume
that I will be well fed when we are married and living in
Scotland.” His voice was sharp. He did not like that I was
here.

“I will go then,” I whispered, as I slipped
off the rafters and landed softly on the floor.

“Aislin, wait . . . I am sorry,” Greer
pleaded from above me, but I too had a temper and was unwilling to
give in this time.

As I passed where Zachariah and Sutphin sat,
I saw the front door open. Zachariah's close friends, Clement,
Jeremiah and Alden walked into the tavern.

I stopped in my tracks, frozen at the sight
of them. I thought that they had seen me, but they were actually
looking at Zachariah. I scrambled to get out of their way as they
walked in my direction.

“Come back Aislin, please,” I heard Greer
call after me.

After a moment, my anger subsided and I
lifted myself back to his side.

“I am sorry for my temper,” he said, as we
watched the boys pull chairs over to the table where the other two
sat.

“Why didn't you come to me in spirit?” I
inquired in a fragile tone.

Greer gripped the rafter, his knuckles
turning white, the board creaking in response.

“I have been searching for food for the past
two nights, and I did not feel it safe to leave my body for any
given length of time,” his voice was strained and his teeth were
clenched as he spoke, “I have missed you greatly Aislin. Do you not
understand the torment I am going through? I have been without you
for numerous life times. I finally find you again and now I am
restricted to when I can be with you.”

“I understand Greer. I am sorry that I have
been so selfish. I miss you horribly.”

“I know my love,” he said softly.

Below us, more ale was being poured, but the
singing had subsided. Now, the men huddled together
conspiratorially. This was what we had been waiting for.

********************

“To the women we love, and the women we love
to hate,” Sutphin raised his glass in a toast.

All the boys clanked their pints to his and
smiled in amusement at Sutphin’s cleverness.

“Speaking of women, how are you enjoying
being married to my beloved sister?” Zachariah asked Sutphin in a
leisurely tone.

The old man shrugged his shoulders with
indifference, “I have always hated breaking in a woman. The
incessant crying, their pretending not to want you, having to force
them to obey…it’s a tiresome game.”

I felt my stomach tighten as I thought of
poor Abigail, and tears stung my eyes as I realized that my vision
had been correct. Greer held my hand and gave it a little squeeze
to comfort me.

“Just beat her until she stops whining.
That’s what my father always did,” Zachariah suggested.

“That’s your baby sister…” Jeremiah said in
an appalled tone.

“You do not have a sister, so you do not
understand how wretched it is to live with one,” Zachariah snapped
back.

“Don’t worry about your sister, I will have
her perfectly suited to my needs within a few weeks,” the pirate
said through a sinister smile, “But I don’t want to talk about
Abigail anymore. It’s boring enough to live with her, let alone
have to talk about her when I’m drinking. Tell me then, what's all
this trouble with that Collins girl?”

Zachariah scowled and clenched his uninjured
fist, “That miserable little jilt,” he said, as he spit onto the
floor.

I watched as Greer's body leaned forward,
ready to pounce on the boy for using such a derogatory term towards
me. I reached over and pressed my hand across his chest to calm
him. Neither of us spoke, we needed to hear what they were up
to.

“So she is a tease then?” Sutphin
inquired.

“No, she is no tease. She never gave
Zachariah any disillusions of how much she despised him,” laughed
the rather intoxicated Jeremiah.

He was giggling so hard that he threatened to
topple the whole table over. He was a short boy, stocky but very
muscular
, with olive skin and light brown
hair.
Of all the boys who befriended Zachariah, I had always
liked Jeremiah the most. I stifled a laugh as I watched him slump
over in his chair, while Zachariah's patience was waning.

“Shut up you fool,” he yelled at his friend,
“She is an insolent, wretched girl.”

Sutphin wagged his finger in front of
Zachariah's face, “Then the question remains . . . why do you care
so much about her?” he slurred.

“You have not seen Aislin,” Clement smiled
wickedly.

He lifted a spoon so that
he could examine his reflection in it, and carefully fixed his mane
of light blonde hair. He then raised his glass in a mocking toast.
His narrow, grey eyes glinted in the firelight as he adjusted the
frilly lace collar of his shirt.
Clement has always made me
uneasy. He was the Governor's son, and used his prowess to push
people around ever since he was a child. Zachariah made allegiance
with the boy when they were very young and had often benefited from
Clement's position of power.

Alden touched his glass to Clement’s as his
dark eyes landed on Zachariah. “She really does drive you mad,”
Alden smirked, as he surveyed his miserable friend.

Zachariah turned crimson and he slumped back
into his chair. “She infuriates me,” he grumbled.

Alden smiled broadly, revealing a set of
crooked teeth that made his features even more rat-like, “She’s
just a girl, Zachariah. They’re all the same in the long run. Think
of her no differently than you would the whores at the port and
you’ll be much better off. Have your fun with her and discard her
for something better…that’s what I say,” Alden slurred.

My eyes flicked to Greer, his jaw was
clenched and his eyes were turning black. I reached out and touched
his hand.

“Be still,” I whispered.

Greer's mouth twitched, a white fang flashed
in the darkness, but he steadied himself.

“So she is fine to look at? So what?” Sutphin
began, “You will learn with age, that all women are the same. It
does not matter what they look like, they all serve the same
purpose. Take your sister for example,” he slapped Zachariah's arm
with his giant spade of a hand, “she has the face of a horse and
the intelligence of a gnat, but I married her anyway, and do you
know why?” He looked around the table waiting for a response from
the boys. None of whom had a coherent answer for the old pirate.
“Because it was good business, that's why.”

“My sister does not have the face of a
horse,” Zachariah said, before chugging down his pint. He slammed
the flagon down on the table, “She has the face of a mule!” he
laughed.

All the men joined in and this time, and it
was Greer who steadied me from lashing out in anger. Abigail was
pretty and although she was very naïve, she was not stupid.

“My point is simple,” garbled Sutphin, “Do
not worry about this girl. Find another, any other, but one that
will bring you good business dealings and alliances. They are all
the same in the end anyway.”

“That's not the point at all. She has
dishonored me . . . made me the laughing stock of this town by
running off with some
foreigner
.” He sloppily brandished his
arm across the table, hitting several mugs and flagons, which slid
across the floor.

The barmaids scurried to clean up the mess
and the men looked down upon the frightened women.

“Well then, kill her for her behavior and be
done with it,” Sutphin laughed.

Laughter faded from Jeremiah's expression,
“You cannot be serious?”

Zachariah and Sutphin exchanged a glance, “I
plan to do more than just that . . . and my new brother-in-law is
going to help me,” Zachariah snarled in a low whisper.

Before he could continue, the tavern door
swung wide open. A few of the townsmen entered the bar and made
their way to the table occupied by Zachariah and his company,
“Pardon us for bothering you good sirs, but Mayor Marthaler has
asked us to come and get you. It seems there's been another murder
close to town, and we are gathering at the church to start the
hunting parties.”

The table cleared and all the men swiftly
left the tavern, throwing money down on the table and floor on
their way out the doors.

“Get back to the cabin Aislin,” Greer said,
before leaping down from the rafters and disappearing into the
shadows.

********************

I had made my way back to Martha's and
Sneachta had accompanied me the entire journey. I had to reenter my
body before I could open the cabin door to let her inside and I
found that the home remained empty. Just Sneachta and I occupied
it. I had hoped that Martha or Becky would be home and would have
some news regarding today's events, but I was once again left with
my own thoughts. Zachariah was planning something, and there was
more to his plot then just removing Becky from my life.

As my mind relived this afternoon’s
happenings, I remembered the look of rage that had spread across
Greer's face when Zachariah had insulted me. He was having trouble
controlling his supernatural side, and I was worried that he might
slip and reveal himself.

I cast a protection spell for Greer and spent
the rest of my solitude holding one hand onto my necklace, invoking
its power to protect me as well.

It was hours later, when Martha finally
returned. Night had fallen now and she looked exhausted and
worried.

“This time it was a Native girl who was
slain,” she said, as she worked magic to protect the house.

“Where did it happen?” I asked, while
following behind Martha as I lined every doorway and window with
her special black salt.

“It happened across the river, on Burlington
Island. She was alone by the waterfront when she was attacked,”
Martha sighed as she dropped onto the bed.

“Do you think it was because the Puca thought
it was me?” I thought of Rebecca and her long dark hair and I knew
that the girl who was just killed would also have had similar
colored hair.

Martha rubbed her temples, “No. I think that
she was most likely very much like us. He must have sensed her
magic and gone after her.”

I nodded in agreement, but I felt rather
faint. Once again, this was because of me. Another innocent girl
had lost her life because this monster was somehow drawn to our
town by my presence.

“Was she very young?” I asked quietly.

Martha walked over to me and wrapped me in
her arms.

“She was younger than you are by a year or
two. Do not blame yourself poor girl. This is not your fault,” she
hushed me as I shook in her arms.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Day Break

Five men were sitting in a small, dark room.
Candlelight flickered off their faces, giving them an otherworldly,
glow.

“I want them all dead,” one hissed under his
breath.

The oldest man amongst the group raised his
hand to quiet the boy, “You need to gain control of your temper.
You cannot even hope to execute a plan like this if your emotions
are going to get in the way,” he said in a raspy voice.

One of the men shifted uneasily in his seat,
“This is a bad idea.”

In the haze of my dream, I could make out
Jeremiah's kind face amongst the other men, “You are letting your
jealousy consume you Zachariah. This whole idea is absurd,” he
said.

“No one asked for your opinion Jeremiah, so
shut your mouth,” he snapped back.