A white–haired elf sat cross–legged in the middle of Beth’s kitchen table picking through the bowl of fruit. Finn!
“Oh, uh …” Could Linda see Finn? Linda followed Beth’s line of sight to the table, then back to Beth. Phew! No mention of a green–suited man inspecting her fruit bowl.
“I’m going to get your dad.”
“No! No, it’s nothing, Linda. I’m fine. I did something, poked myself, I don’t know. Here, take the buns.” She didn’t have the mind to make up a story. Finn chose a banana, peeled back one fraction of skin, and turned his head to Beth, silver brows raised.
“Were you having a flashback, Beth?” Linda gave Beth’s arm a caring touch. “It must have been terrible what Bruce did. Your kitchen was a mess. You shouldn’t be alone here. After dinner, I insist you come and stay with us. Take however long you need to put this horrifying event to rest.”
Finn puffed out his lower lip. “Ah, poor Bethia. Perhaps I should return when you’ve sufficiently recovered.”
“No!” Beth didn’t mean to shout. It made her sound desperate, which she refused to be. With no little effort she turned to Linda. “I mean, no thank you. I’m fine — really.” She let out a puff of breath. Her mind didn’t seem to hold the capacity for anything else besides Finn and ultimately Calum.
She pulled in a deep breath. Did she want to open a wound not yet healed? “Linda, Dad’s waiting on the buns. I’m going to cut up a tomato, and then I’ll be out.”
Finn sprang off the table and came to stand beside Linda. He cocked his head, studying her for a moment then blew into her face like one might blow an eyelash off a finger.
Beth couldn’t help smiling at the look on Linda’s face as she blinked, then glanced at the window which just wasn’t in the right direction to have let in a puff of air.
“Did they hurt you, Beth?” Geez, the woman wouldn’t stop. “I had a bad experience in high school with a football player, and I know how it feels to be taken advantage of. It did me good to talk about it.”
Finn sprang back onto the table and peeled the rest of the banana. Was there a banana floating through midair? She guessed not. Linda likely would have noticed that.
“‘Tis not the kind of story I like to hear, Bethia,” advised Finn. “Causes me to question if there’s hope for humans, at all.”
“Nothing like that happened to me, Linda. I’m fine, except I … I need the bathroom. Would you excuse me?” As much as she wished to protect her broken heart and deny any interest in what Finn had to say about Calum, she couldn’t pretend indifference, it just wasn’t in her. Any decent human being would check to make sure Calum arrived safely in his Upper World.
Beth glared at the puckish being, then flicked her eyes in the direction of the front hall, and scooted to the bathroom.
There wasn’t much room to pace. Where was he? Quietly, she opened the door and peered into the hall. She took a step out to inspect through to the back of the house — Linda had taken the buns outside. No sign of Finn. She took a step back.
“Cripes!” she shrieked having stepped on the elf. “Couldn’t you make some noise? Do you always have to scare me half to death?”
Finn smiled. He seemed pleased to rile her. Beth pushed him into the bathroom and closed the door. The immortal had the strangest feel, weightless, or at least lighter than air. He merely glided across the floor from her touch. No doubt he’d allowed her to move him like that. Nothing about Finn said “pushover.”
“I suppose you’re here to talk about Calum, not that I care, much. And thanks for suggesting I sacrifice my virginity, not to mention my heart, to give him a hard–on, just before he abandoned me. That was real sweet, Finn.”
His pale lips turned in a frown. Long white hair tied in a hundred thin braids dressed his head. “I didn’t misrepresent myself, Bethia. Who did you think you were taking advice from?”
He had a point. Anyone called the trickster should have been treated with caution. “Like I’ve had any experience dealing with immortals.”
“Ignorance is no defense. Tell me, how is life without the warrior?”
Empty, lonely, meaningless. “Fine, I’m just fine without him.”
Finn swept backwards to perch on the toilet tank. It unnerved her to no end. “The warrior’s not fine without you. I bring news from the Upper World, dear Bethia. The Old Ones have decided to make an example of your warrior and reward his undying, unswerving faith to his true love — you. But if you’re doing just fine without him … .”
Beth’s cool heart got a jolt of fire. Reward Calum? How? “Don’t mess with me, Finn. Are you telling me Calum can come back?”
“It all depends on you, Bethia. Wish him back in your life, and I’ll tell you where to find him.”
“Oh,” she said weakly, feeling like a tree about to go over. Then she remembered who she was talking to. “What do I have to do this time, Finn?”
The creature had the thinnest, most mischievous smile she’d ever seen. It wasn’t wicked or haunting, but was child–like, although she didn’t think for a minute the elf held the innocence of a babe.
“I’m finished with you and your warrior,” he said. “I’m about to start another game — my work is endless. Yours played out rather well, don’t you think?”
“No, Finn, I don’t think so. You know why? Because losing Calum was agony. Perhaps you don’t know what it’s like to have a wasteland for a heart. There’s no end to my wanting him. I can’t imagine anything worse.”
“Ah, but you know now, don’t you?”
It was true. “That I want Calum? Yes. Loud and clear.” And how many times had Calum suffered this agony over losing her? She suspected more than a few. “If he can’t return here, to Earth, I’m willing to go back to that world of yours if I can be with him.”
“To monotony, Bethia? That’s the true wasteland. Just the two of you, cut off from family, friends, day after day, with no satisfying work to do.”
Possibly, but she was beginning to feel desperate, and it was easier to make sacrifices in that state. Easier wasn’t smart. She envisioned a more desirable scenario. “You have a point, Finn. So how powerful are the Old Ones anyway? Can they wipe out the memories of those policemen, clear the record of Calum’s confession? Can you? Because he can’t be free with that hanging over his head.”
“No. They can’t do that. The news of your warrior’s confession was printed and read in the newspaper by all sorts of humans. It’s much too complicated now.”
“But that’s not fair. He only confessed to spare me, and — ”
“I know,” Finn interrupted. “You need not explain it to me. Don’t forget, it was my game.”
“Okay. So, Mister-Playing-With-Real-People-Is-Just-A-Game-To-Me, how can Calum and I be together then?”
“I told you I’m not pleased with the state of you mortals. The Old Ones have left you too much on your own, and frankly, Earth is a mess. There were never enough of you to affect us, but that’s changed now that you humans have become overpopulated and all–consuming. Human passion is misdirected. While passion for art or music is good energy for our worlds, most of you have forgotten the most important quest — true love — the universe requires it.”
“If things don’t change here on Earth, then my people will be forced to find a new home — and it’s no fun being displaced. I abhor moving. That brings me back to you. Good work, Bethia. You’ve always loved Calum well.”
Had she? Except for the times she was telling him never to speak to her again. Why did that have to be the last thing she said to him?
Finn still hadn’t explained how Calum could return. “You humans, restricted by your brains and your scientific methods, are still arrogant enough to believe you have a great understanding of the workings of the worlds. But, Bethia, you understand little more than fish in a pond. So I’ll explain it to you simply. Calum has been living a life on Earth for twenty–eight years now. He works with his hands as a designer and builder.”
“What? Calum who? I don’t get it.”
“Don’t try to understand it, Bethia. Acceptance is all you need do. Calum lives in Scotland — no surprise to you, I’d assume. When he began his term as your spirit guide, his recollection of the life he was simultaneously living on Earth was veiled, so he could focus on you without distraction. Upon his return to Seraphina, The Old Ones showed him how the energy of the soul may split to manage more than one task.”
Beth’s mind felt like a pretzel. “So you’re telling me that some guy in Scotland is the same Calum I met here. How could he have any memory of me?”
“He doesn’t. He is a mere human in every sense.”
“No way. I don’t believe it.”
“That’s too bad. Because the only way for you and Calum to be together in this life, is if you accept what I’ve told you.”
Beth let out a deep breath. Could her life get more bizarre? She hated to broach the thought. “Does he look the same?”
“For the most part. His present day form descends from the ancient warrior you knew and is strikingly similar. I don’t lack foresight, Bethia. The Calum of today is not made of as much muscle as the Calum you knew, but he carries the same look. He was given the name Colin, but he’d answer to his soul name Calum and not even know why.”
“This is so odd, Finn.”
“Will you go to him, Bethia?”
“He won’t recognise me?”
“He’ll be struck by you. Recognition will come later.”
Beth didn’t have to think hard. Calum’s feet were on Earth, not a wee bit off, not in a world between. He was here and he would soon be back in her life. One tear escaped before she sniffed and straightened up. “Yes, I’ll go to him — in a heartbeat. Where do I find him?”
Beth hugged her dad goodbye, checked her bag through airport security, and walked to the gate.
It had been a month since Finn had popped in. At first she wanted to get to Calum immediately, but then when reality sank in, if she could call it that, she got cold feet.
He would be a stranger to her, and she’d be in the exact position he had when he’d first come to Ashbury. She had a new respect for him. It had taken guts to come to her, although he’d had an advantage. She couldn’t throw him over her shoulder and steal him away until he fell in love with her again.
The plane landed in Edinburgh at one in the afternoon Scottish time. Beth caught a cab from the airport to the hotel. She fell in love with the old town at first sight. The majestic clock tower and spires of St. Mary’s Cathedral rose above the chimney pots of old houses. She’d not realized that Edinburgh Castle was in the middle of the city, but there it was, strikingly perched on the crags of an ancient volcano, so said the cab driver who explained that men had inhabited Castle Rock from as far back as the Bronze Age.
Imaginings ran through her like a conductor for ancient currents. Considering Calum’s love of Scotland how could she not have been there at some point in history? Beth pictured herself safe in the fortress long ago.
Tension ran under her skin and increased to a fine drone. He was here.
Finn had told her the name of Calum’s store and its location, but she’d not been able to find it on the Internet. She pictured a little shop smelling of wood chips, a mist of fine sawdust floating in a beam of sunlight over finely crafted tables and chairs. She’d chosen a hotel on Grassmarket because it was close to Crafted by Cunninghams, Calum’s business.
After checking in, Beth showered, carefully applied her makeup and dressed. For the
pièce de résistance,
she slipped into the black–and–white tartan dress Calum had bought her in Quebec City. A bit dressy for daytime, but hopefully it would ignite a memory, and she had to go now if she expected to find him at work. Standing in front of the mirror, she smoothed her dress and blotted a smudge of mascara off her eyelid. Okay. No more stalling.
The day was flooded in sunlight — no small blessing. She had put Scotland and rain together and had been worried about showing up with no dazzle and too much drizzle. With her Versace sunglasses perched on her nose, she clacked down the walk in her high heels. The lady at the hotel desk had verified she could follow Victoria Street to the Grassmarket.
Normally, Beth would need blinders to walk past those shop windows and keep on course, but she hardly noticed the shoes that would match her new chartreuse dress. Since she’d pictured a little wood shop, she nearly walked right by Crafted by Cunninghams. The store stretched the length of three shop fronts and had a row of kitchen cabinets on display in the windows.
A bell tinkled as she pulled open the antique oak door and stepped inside. Rich, dark paneling gleamed from the back wall. Along the side wall hung various door styles, ranging in trim and colours. The show room was short with a faint smell of varnish. A saw’s buzz sounded from what must have been a workroom in the back. She headed for a trestle table where a man leaned over a sheaf of drawings. Darn. Not Calum.
He looked up, a pencil stuck in his teeth.
“Hi there,” she said. “I’m looking for Calum Cunningham. I heard he works here.”
“Do you mean Colin?” The brawny man tucked the pencil in over his ear. Geez, another one built like a brick house. Though he was older than Calum, he had to be related. It wasn’t just the same square chin — it was the smile. Not smoldering but definitely warm.
“Oh right. Yes, Colin. Is he here?”
The guy shook his head. “No. He’s gone for a pint. May I be of service?”
Beth hid her disappointment in a pretend smile. “No, thank you. I wouldn’t mind a pint though. Do you know where he went?”
His eyes flicked over Beth’s hot pink jacket and designer dress to her strappy black pumps. “You’ll find him at Auld Reekie’s.”
“Auld Reekie’s?” She stifled a chuckle instantly picturing a rank tavern thick with smoke. “And where would that be?”
“Out the door to the left, then carry on. It’s not far. You can’t miss it.”
Ten steps into that pub had Beth yearning for the smoke–free establishments back home. “Ugh.” Just like London. Her plan felt weak. She would tell Calum she needed a cabinet built and he’d been recommended for the job. It was her hope that he would be drawn magically to her, and the rest, history, again.