CHAPTER 35
Time and space lost all meaning. There was only this guilt that weighed heavily on me, and it alone justified my
pathetic existence. Absolutely nothing had turned out the way Payton or I had expected. All my efforts of not meddling
with the past had caused the opposite: Everything happened in exactly the same way Payton told me in his original story.
I had brought disaster upon Payton and his family. I alone had caused the death of Ross, the shepherd. I had helped
Nathaira in making Cathal see the threat coming from within his own ranks. And with my letter to Payton, I’d delivered
Kyle to Nathaira’s blade. All of this culminated in the curse that I would now bear witness to, because the next streak
of lightning flashed across the sky and bathed the Highlands before me in a bright light.
Castle Coulin stood majestically in the valley below me, and I saw the flames rising up from the tower and into the sky.
The straw-thatched roof only fed the blaze, and the wind carried it on and on.
I struggled to my feet, grabbing the horse’s reins and desperately holding on to them.
What had I done?
Frozen in place, I noticed a man on horseback leaving the castle at a fast gallop. Payton! I immediately recognized him,
despite only a dim light coming from the fire. He rode off without turning back, his plaid blowing in the wind behind
him as he drove his horse faster and faster across the plains.
Faster and faster away from me.
And then, with all my senses on overload, there was only this bright, blinding light that seemed to come from the woman
standing atop the hill in front of me, her hands raised high into the night sky.
A final flash of lightning crashed down; then the wind died down, and the clouds disappeared as fast as they had
gathered earlier.
Motionless, the old woman stood atop the mountain peak and looked, like me, down at the castle. It was Vanora, the woman
I had seen in my visions. She was the witch of Fair Isle who was writing history this very night.
Two shapes on horseback galloped toward her: Cathal and Nathaira. Vanora stood her ground even as they came closer. She
actually turned away from the approaching danger and appeared to be scanning the dark hills behind her.
Our eyes met as if there were neither darkness nor distance between us. There was nothing but her and me. She had been
waiting for me. I saw that from the expression of hope and inner peace on her face, and once again she spoke to me
without moving her lips.
“Face your destiny. Remember the love you carry deep in your heart. Fear not. The blood will protect you. You are
without guilt, yet you are guilty. Complete the circle.” I heard her voice inside my head.
Frozen in horror, I watched Vanora open her arms without fear and welcome her daughter’s dagger as it pierced her
heart.
The high-pitched cry of agony that escaped my throat was carried away by the wind and went unheard.
No! Vanora couldn’t die—not now! I needed her blood to save Payton! But the triumphant expression on Nathaira’s and
Cathal’s faces left no doubt that Vanora was dead. With no signs of regret, they left the old woman’s body where it
was. And with fists raised high, they returned to what was left of Castle Coulin and its warriors.
I sank to my knees, unable to stand any longer. I had fought with all that I had. I had tried to do everything right—
and still I had failed.
I stared into the night to the spot where I had seen Payton only moments ago. He was gone. The curse had been spoken,
and it had damned him to a life without feeling. My letter that could have saved him was gone with the wind. My promise
to save him was worthless. All because I had come too late. Vanora was dead. I had failed!
I wept, burying my face in my hands and submitting to the convulsions that almost suffocated me.
Only when strong arms lifted me up and pressed me hard against a warm chest did I find a way back to myself. The Gaelic
endearments that Payton whispered into my ear; his quick, soothing pecks on my neck; and his strong, tender hands that
massaged away my pain—it all created only one reaction on my part.
I looked into his eyes and saw the same feelings of worry, guilt, and despair that I was experiencing myself. I knew
what he had done. I knew that he’d had a hand in murdering my ancestors, because he would confess to it so many years
later.
But none of this mattered now that he was about to fess up to his murderous crimes. We had betrayed each other by doing
a terrible wrong, and in the process we had damned our mortal souls to hell.
Regardless, only he could comfort me now. I put my finger on his lips to prevent him from talking. I didn’t know what
he had done or how he had found me. The only thing that mattered was to be near him. And with the only thing we were
left with—our mutual love—we granted each other forgiveness. I got lost in his eyes when I raised my lips to his, and
with a long kiss, we begged for mercy.
Payton didn’t ask why I was here or demand to know what had happened. He didn’t even ask how much I was to blame for
the events of this fateful night. I didn’t say a word. I couldn’t find the courage to own up to everything.
An eternity seemed to have passed when Payton finally backed away from me.
“What is it?” I asked. He was rubbing his arm as if he’d been injured.
“My arm hurts. I think I burned myself,” he said, pushing up his sleeve to take a closer look.
There was nothing there. But I quickly realized what was going on and was shocked at the speed with which the curse was
gaining steam.
Payton glared at me.
“You know what is going on here, don’t you. Is it what you predicted? Something is happening to me—I can feel it.”
How I would have loved to tell him that he was wrong. How I would have loved to break the tension with one of Kim’s
flippant one-liners. But in this life I was no longer an eighteen-year-old high school student quoting her best friend.
I couldn’t even remember what it was like to fear nothing more than getting a D minus in history class. I deserved an F
for this stunning feat I had produced here. For sure!
Instead, I told Payton, “It’s a curse. Everyone who went to the Camerons tonight has been cursed.”
Payton shook his head.
“We were cursed before we set out today. Hatred and battle have guided our lives. Blood feuds have been our daily
bread. No curse could be worse than that.”
I saw that he meant it. I could tell how much he hated himself, and I didn’t know how to help him.
“You told me you would save me. Is that true?” he asked quietly, brushing my hair behind my ear.
This tender gesture made my eyes well up.
“Yes, Payton, my beloved. I swear to you that our love will break this curse, but not today. I don’t belong here—I
should never have come.”
Guilt and shame washed over me, but Payton lifted my chin and kissed my trembling lips.
“Can you tell me what is going to happen? What kind of a curse?” he asked.
I closed my eyes and repeated the very words he had once said to me: “The worst kind. Each and every one of you is now
cursed to living a life without feeling—without love, warmth, anger, or pain. Only emptiness. And you will suffer for
all eternity because you are never going to die.”
Payton didn’t say anything for a long time. Then he pulled me close and kissed me with all the love and tenderness he
was able to muster. I could tell he was trying to memorize this feeling, to commit it to memory so he could draw from it
later.
“Is that why you’re going to leave me?” he asked after a while. “Because I don’t feel anymore?”
“I never wanted to leave you, but I really thought I could save your life.” My voice broke, and I cursed myself for
being so weak, for being incapable of doing anything right. “But I can’t because I’m too late. Vanora is dead! Her
blood would have saved you.”
“The blood of the witch?” he asked.
We looked at the hilltop where Vanora had spoken her curse. Her white gown was still visible even in this darkness.
Payton pulled me to my feet.
“What are you doing?” I asked as he helped me up on his horse and got up behind me. He had tied Kyle’s horse to his
with a long rope.
“I want to live, Sam. I want to live right by your side. Which is why I am helping you.”
“You don’t understand. She’s dead—her blood has been spilled!” I called out as he brought us closer and closer to
the hilltop.
“Listen, Sam. You just told me what’s lying ahead. It all sounds like an awful fate if you ask me. So if the witch who
did this to me can also save my life, then I have to give it a try! Don’t you understand that I never want to stop
loving you? That I’m afraid of not having feelings ever again? And that maybe I find it easier to bear if I know there
is hope?”
I understood him well. I admired him for how calmly he accepted his fate, and I couldn’t blame him for wanting to try.
Who was I to take this hope away from him without giving it my best shot.
“All right, then, let’s go!” I yelled, holding on tight so he could spur on the horse. It didn’t take us long to
reach the hilltop.
The old woman’s body lay on the barren rock that had become her deathbed. Her face was peaceful and pale. Her wide-open
eyes looked up at the stars, and her mouth was frozen in a smile. Payton steadied his horse, got off, and helped me down
without saying a word. Slowly, and full of respect, we walked over to her.
Together we knelt by her side, not knowing what to do next.
I could barely take my eyes off the dagger protruding from Vanora’s chest. A dark red stain had spread from the dagger
and across her gown. The embroidered flowers on the fabric were soaked in blood, but they were beautiful. It almost
seemed as if the white thread had been waiting to be dipped in color.
My eyes followed the red thread that was no longer a thread but a stream of blood.
The handle of Nathaira’s dagger was wrapped in black leather, and it disturbed the perfection of the red-and-white
pattern on Vanora’s chest in a brutal, almost perverse way—as if envious of its beauty.
I suddenly felt very hot, and the world around me started spinning. I wiped the sweat from my forehead before touching
the knife, trembling. The black leather was cold and cruel to the touch as I closed my fist around the handle and
slowly, inch by inch, started pulling. From very far away I saw fresh blood gushing from the wound, saw how the red
flowers unfolded and revealed their full beauty. When I finally held the entire knife in my hand, it was as though the
sun itself had offered the flower her radiance, as if the color red had never been so perfect before. Bloodred.
The dagger dropped to the ground as the world around me spun and darkness finally swallowed me.
Birds were chirping when I woke up. My head was resting against Payton’s chest, and his breath tickled my cheek.
Slowly, painfully, I opened my eyes. I squinted against the bright light coming from the sun high up in the sky.
Only now did I notice that we were on his horse. My limbs felt heavy, and my whole body ached as though I had been run
over by a bus. Multiple times!
“Where are we?” I croaked.
“I’m taking you to the cottage you told me about. The cottage by Loch Duich,” he explained.
“The cottage?” I found it hard to follow. It would easily take two days to get to the stone cottage by Loch Duich. How
long had I been out? And what had happened with Vanora?
Before I could ask Payton about it, he started talking.
“I was right,” he informed me.
“What? Right about what?” I really wasn’t in the mood for half-spoken sentences and guessing games.
“You are a strange girl. When you were sitting by the witch’s side, you didn’t seem to notice me or anything else
around you. But the idea with the dagger was a good one. The blade is still covered in Vanora’s blood. I wrapped it up
and took it with us.”
He tapped against the saddlebag before continuing. “And now I’m taking you home because I can feel the change inside
me. It’s getting stronger, and it’s time for you to leave me.”
I wanted nothing more than to speak up, to reassure him that I would never leave him. Because I didn’t want to go. I
didn’t want to leave him during the darkest years—centuries!—of his life. But I had to, because I wouldn’t be alive
in two hundred seventy years. I wouldn’t be able to stay by his side forever. The only thing I could hope for was to
see him again in my own time—provided that Nathaira’s curse hadn’t killed him by then.
“I love you, Payton,” I reassured him. “I always will, and if there were a way for me to stay with you, I…”
“Sam, mo luaidh, be still. You said it yourself: You don’t belong here. Tomorrow at this hour we will reach the
cottage, and until that moment I want to be with you. I want to feel your skin and your warmth, and to taste your
kisses. I want to remember how shiny your hair is and how lovely your voice sounds. The heavens have sent you to me so
that I may accept my fate. Let’s not look back. Let’s not waste what precious time we have left.”
“But Payton, if only you knew what I’ve done…”
“No, Sam! Not another word! It doesn’t matter what you or I have done. Guilt and shame and hatred cannot overshadow
the only thing I am left with. I haven’t been able to forget about you, not ever since I watched you by the lake,” he
admitted.
I swallowed my tears, fighting against the tightness in my throat that threatened to suffocate. Then his words sank in.
“You watched me?” I asked angrily. “I asked you to turn around and look away!”
Payton laughed, and the sound made my heart beat faster.
“Oh, Sam! How could I not have watched the most beautiful girl in the world bathing in the moonlight? Besides, you were
huffing and puffing like an old lady, and I was worried you’d drown.”
“Well, I guess that justifies everything!” I exclaimed with feigned outrage.
“Yes, love justifies everything,” he said, kissing me.
We made good time on our way north. There were no obstacles blocking our way or slowing us down, only this time I wouldn
’t have minded a small delay. The closer we got, the more I dreaded that damn marker stone—and whatever was waiting
for me on the other end. Was a way back even possible? Was Payton still alive, or would I be too late?
I found it hard to appreciate the beauty of the landscape passing us by, and it was only Payton’s presence that managed
to distract me from these dark, terrible thoughts. It hurt me to know how much the centuries would change him. His eyes
were still open and kind, and his laughter was sincere, but the curse would take all that away from him. I savored the
feeling of allowing Past Payton into my heart and no longer felt like I was betraying Future Payton. It was pretty
simple, really: Payton McLean held my heart in his hands—forever and across all time.
When we made camp after night had fallen, we held each other close in the knowledge that this would be our last time.
The tears I silently shed that night were my secret to keep. I was afraid of leaving Payton, because I couldn’t be sure
that word of his passing wouldn’t be waiting for me in the future.
Couldn’t I just risk it, and stay here forever?
Morning broke with a glorious sunrise. The sky was ablaze with the most vibrant colors that sprinkled the clouds in gold
and sent the first warm rays of sunshine down to Earth.
“Payton, look! Isn’t it amazing?” I whispered into his ear, making him squint open his eyes and follow my gaze.
Then he looked down, flicking a blade of grass from his kilt, and held out his hand.
“Yes, I guess it is,” he mumbled before turning around to get the horses.
I felt terribly guilty. The curse was getting stronger. It had already taken the joy from his eyes, had made him
oblivious to the beauty of the rising sun. I shivered in the sudden cold that I hadn’t noticed while I was lying in his
warm embrace. We rode the rest of the way in silence, and I didn’t fail to notice that Payton was closing himself off
more and more.
It was noon when we reached the mountaintop and saw the dark waters of Loch Duich nestled into the hollow below. The
Five Sisters framed this dramatic, breathtaking panorama beautifully: The autumn landscape was vibrant with bright fall
colors, plunging the mountains in copper and bronze tones and welcoming us home. Only Payton became more and more
apathetic with every minute that passed.
“That’s us,” he said as he guided us the final yards down to the lakeshore. Now, in broad daylight and without that
spooky fog that had confused me when I first arrived, everything looked very different. I could barely even comprehend
why I had been so disoriented.
It was clear that the stone cottage had long been abandoned. The roof had caved in and would offer no protection from
the elements; and the door was hanging crooked in its frame, flapping in the wind.
From there, my eyes wandered over the heath, searching for the spot where I had regained consciousness. The cemetery did
not yet exist, but the marker stone was there, clearly visible between the rolling hills.
Payton silently helped me down from the saddle and grabbed my hand. He seemed to flinch, but the stoic expression on his
face didn’t give anything away.
“What now, then?” he asked.
Yeah, what now? That was a great question, because once again I was missing some kind of billboard loudly announcing the
way back to the twenty-first century.
I trotted over to the stone and carefully walked around it. How exactly would this work? Even though I had experienced
firsthand that time travel was possible, now that I was standing in front of this simple stone, I found it impossible to
imagine how this thing would ever take me back to my real life. Slowly I held out a trembling arm, ready to pull back at
any moment should anything strange happen. I ran my fingers over the cold, rough surface, and finally placed my hand on
the smooth top.
Payton watched Samantha as she slowly approached the stone. Whenever he looked at her, he didn’t know who or what she
was—but he trusted his heart enough to know that she was the love of his life, even as his feelings were getting weaker
and weaker. She was a mystery to him, and he could see that she felt guilty. Whatever it was that she blamed herself
for, he didn’t want to know. He wasn’t sure that he was strong enough to forgive her. And so it was better to believe
in the love they felt for each other and never find out why she had come into his life. For one thing was certain: She
had never wanted to harm anyone.
His own mortal soul, on the other hand, was soaked in Cameron blood. Never, or so he hoped, would he have to own up to
what he’d done. But such thoughts were nothing compared to the idea of having to let Sam go. As weak as that feeling
was, he realized that it was fear. Still, they had no choice.
The chill spread through him. Colors lost their luster, and even Sam’s smile didn’t touch him as much as it had only a
few hours ago. He didn’t want to live in a world where her kiss meant nothing to him, only because he was damned to a
life without feelings, emotions, love. No, she needed to leave him and let him walk alone into the dark.
“What are you doing?” he asked as Sam traced the inscription on the stone with her fingers.
“I’m looking for the way. This stupid stone brought me here. I don’t know how it happened, but if I ever want to
return home, I’d better find out.”
Payton knew that only a few hours ago he had been fighting against letting Sam go with every fiber of his being. But now
he didn’t feel the horror and despair that had grabbed ahold of him then. Yet the faintest echo of those feelings made
him now reach out and grab her hand.
“Wait,” he said, because he wasn’t ready to have her disappear from his life. “The dagger. You’ll need the dagger.
”
Grateful for having found a reason to pull Sam back and over to the horses, he managed to force himself to smile.
He opened the saddlebags and unearthed the leather-wrapped dagger.
“I’ve got something else for you,” he said hoarsely. It had been a shock to him to find the small package when he had
searched Kyle’s saddlebags earlier for something to drink. Kyle was dead because he had given up his own safety for
him. Payton was almost glad that the curse was growing stronger and stronger, wiping out his feelings of guilt about his
brother’s death—along with all his other emotions.
Payton realized that his mind was wandering when Sam touched him gently on the elbow.
“Do you want me to take it or not?” she asked, pointing at the dagger.
“Sure. There, don’t cut yourself. Maybe it’s safer to carry it in the leather pouch.”
He watched as Sam stuck the dagger into the pouch and placed it under her arm. Then he turned back to the package.
Trying to keep his weakening feelings hidden, he thrust the soft, leather-bound package into her hands.
“There, it’s a gift. You…I mean…I’m sure you know what to do with it,” he finally managed, but when Sam smiled and
slid a curious finger under the leather band to open it, he placed his hands on hers even though the excruciating pain
almost made him want to pull away.
“No, mo luaidh. Only open it after you get home,” he insisted.
“All right, fine. Although I hate being kept in suspense,” Sam said, touched by his words. She placed the soft bundle
in her bag. Then she brushed his lips with hers, but Payton could no longer feel it. Darkness was moving in.
“You need to go!” he said urgently.
This emptiness inside was impossible to bear! Somewhere in the recesses of his mind he knew what a kiss was, that he
should feel something—so why couldn’t he feel it anymore? But even the despair that was grabbing ahold of him was a
shadow of its normal self. He just didn’t feel it anymore.
“Go now! It is time!”
Sam’s eyes filled with tears as he led her back to the marker stone.
“Do you remember what you did to get here?” he asked.
Sam knitted her brow. She touched the stone and squatted down.
“I wa…uh…so I bent down in front of the stone because I had dropped something and was looking for it,” she
explained, trying to retrace her every move. “Then I noticed the names, and I wondered if they maybe had anything to do
with the legend of the five sisters.”
“The legend? It’s not a legend. Over there, the cottage: That’s where a druid once lived with his daughters. This is
a magical place,” Payton explained, reaching for one of the roses growing by the stone. Its smell no longer brought him
joy, but he wanted to offer it to Sam.
“That’s it! Yes, that could be it!” she called, grabbing his hand before he could prick his finger on the thorns.
Then she looked up with bright and knowing eyes as if she had just solved a mystery. “That must be it!” she cried, now
running her own fingers over the soft petals. “I remember that I hurt myself on the roses. I pricked my finger, and it
was bleeding. Do you think that could mean something?”
“We’ll find out in a moment,” Payton said, reaching for his dagger—but the leather sheath by his side was empty.
“Where’s my dagger?”
“I’ve got it.” She pulled the dagger out from under her dress and solemnly handed it over. “You left it in my room.
”
He looked deep into Sam’s expectant face, forced her up against the stone so that she was touching it with her body,
and pulled the sharp blade across the palm of his hand.
“My life for you, mo luaidh!” He used the motto he and Kyle had shared all of their lives to say good-bye to the love
of his life, and with closed eyes he pressed the flat of his hand against the cold stone.
He kept his eyes shut for fear of finding himself alone.
“Hmm, I don’t think it’s working!”
Sam’s voice snapped him out of his paralyzed state. Relieved, if without feeling joy, he realized that she was still
there. A selfish hope grew inside him. Perhaps she was now forced to stay with him forever.
“You’re not bleeding,” Sam said in astonishment, and Payton looked down at his hands. This was impossible! He had
pulled the blade across his palm with all his strength. He’d felt the pain and the burning of the sharp metal, but his
skin was completely unscathed.
Sam shrunk back, all color draining from her face, and Payton knew that she was thinking about the curse.
“Payton! I…I will stay with you, I can’t leave you like this! You need me. Look what she’s done to you!”
However much he had wanted to hear her say this before the curse, he could not allow it to happen now. With cruel
honesty, he started to describe his dying feelings:
“Sam, I’m sorry, but you can’t help me. I don’t need your love because it no longer keeps me warm. Your kisses no
longer reach my heart, and your very touch hurts my skin. I don’t remember the feelings I once had for you, not even in
the far reaches of my mind. I forgot what it was like to lie in your arms, and I don’t remember how I fell in love with
you. The man I was is no longer, but I do know that he’d want you to be safe. So go, please, because I cannot bear to
be this close to you.”
He spoke the truth, and I could tell from his eyes—he was begging me to let him go. I watched his face carefully,
trying to memorize his beautiful features, wanting to kiss him one last time. But instead I quickly grabbed his hand
that was still holding the dagger. I pulled the blade across the ball of my thumb in the same way I had seen him do and,
hand bleeding, I reached for the marker stone.
“My love for you, mo luaidh!” I said, tweaking his motto just before pain started to flood my brain.
Bright!
Again I saw the familiar, all-consuming blaze of light.
I felt emptiness.
Except for this explosion of light burning through me, turning my skin white-hot, filling my heart with liquid fire, and
pumping rays of dazzling light throughout my body. It plunged my mind into a brilliant, blinding pool of light.
I was falling. I felt my soul break away from my body. I felt both my soul and body aimlessly stumbling, and wandering.
And then there was nothingness—no past, and no future. A pair of giant, burning wings carried me into a light-flooded
abyss. And an icy fist tore me into individual strands of light.
I tried with all my might to think of the love that had brought me here, but my mind no longer existed.
Everything was so bright and radiant. No thought could penetrate this tidal wave of light, and no feeling was able to
get through. Still, I tried to hold on to love, tried to align my burning self to it before the blinding brightness
could shatter me to pieces. Finally, I burst under the light that exploded out of my body.