CHAPTER 24
Fair Isle
The little boat was rocking under Payton’s feet, and he jumped onto the jetty. He thanked the fisherman who had brought him to Fair Isle and waved to him as he departed, watching for a moment as the small boat bobbed up and down like a waterbird.
Fair Isle. Here, at last, he should be able to find some answers, to find out more about the curse, and if there was any way to lift it. The waves were pounding high, and the white foam from the sea was washed far up onto the beach. A cold wind blew into his face, but Payton didn’t feel a thing.
Since Sam had left him, his world had become dull again, with less and less feeling every passing day. As if the weather were adapting to his mood, the sky was full of dense clouds. The sun was nowhere to be found, and even the time of day seemed to have lost its way, getting stuck somewhere between morning and evening.
Payton walked along the jetty, across the wet sand, up to a stony embankment forming a natural dam. Payton climbed up the steps hewn into the stone and got his first view of his destination.
The island was small and sparsely populated. There was only one village, and the people lived just as their ancestors had for hundreds of years—raising sheep and catching fish. Their little stony huts were placed haphazardly, as if a giant had dropped them from above. Each one faced a different direction. Some roofs looked badly damaged, bowed down almost to the ground. They were mixed in with newer-looking houses, which were painted white.
In the middle of the village, Payton could see the largest building on the island, next to a large square, surrounded by trees. A kind of church, he thought, or maybe a temple of some sort.
A narrow path led from the water to the village, and Payton decided to follow it.
The first buildings he passed seemed deserted, with doors that looked like they hadn’t been opened in ages. The large square was empty too. There was no light through the windows of the houses and no smoke rising from the chimneys. He was getting a bit worried that he’d come here for nothing.
Yet the village didn’t seem to be completely abandoned, as everything was well kept and tidy. In the front gardens, the last summer flowers were blooming next to precisely laid-out herbal beds, and the paths in the village had recently been swept. Here and there, bean plants had sent their runners creeping up rods; the plants looked healthy, sure to provide a good harvest.
Payton knocked at every single door, but not one was opened.
Disappointed, he sat down on a bench and waited. His gaze landed upon his arm, and he studied the scar that his last trip with Sam had left him with. It was hardly visible any longer, but he stroked it with his finger and wished for that moment when he could still feel pain, when he had still been near Sam.
He had been daydreaming for quite some time when he heard voices from a distance. A short while later, some people appeared under a grove of trees at the edge of the village. The men were pulling a cart piled high with peat. The women carried baskets hanging from their arms, and their children were running around behind them. It must be a big family, or a group of friends, he thought, from the way they were laughing and joking with each other.
A little boy, not more than five years old, grabbed an apple from one of the baskets and quickly hid behind his friends. A woman raised a finger in reprimand, but she didn’t look angry. It was clear that she loved the little group of children.
Bit by bit, they all made their way into the square. Payton stood up, and when the villagers got closer, he stepped forward in a friendly manner.
“Latha math!” he greeted the people. Curious eyes followed him when he approached the closest man.
“My name is Payton McLean. I have a puzzle in my life, and I’m hoping that you will be able to help me. I’m looking for someone who can answer my questions about a woman called Vanora who lived on this island long ago. Do you know whom I should turn to?”
The man returned Payton’s greeting, but shook his head.
“Tha mi duilich,” he apologized. “We can’t help you. But there might be someone who can. Can you tell us more about yourself?”
Payton didn’t want to reveal anything, but he could tell the villagers weren’t going to give him much access unless they felt they could trust him.
“I am Douglas, by the way,” the man said. “It’s too late to find someone to talk to now anyway. It’s about to get dark.”
“But it’s important.”
“Hmm. How about this. We could use some help unloading the peat. We have a lot of work ahead of us. In exchange, I’ll give you a roof over your head for the night. What do you say?”
Douglas turned his back on Payton and stepped toward the other men, who were already lifting the heavy lumps of peat off the cart. Most of the women had already disappeared inside, and the children had gathered around one of the huts, where they were listening attentively to an old woman’s story.
Payton didn’t need long to think about it. He had to find answers. And if that meant being tested by the villagers, well, he would dig up all the peat on the island if he had to.
He set down his jacket and his bag, and rolled up his sleeves. Then he grabbed the thick, heavy bundles one by one, and lifted them off. Two of the men started hacking the big bundles into smaller hunks. When the cart was empty and the pile of peat had grown high, they began stacking these smaller hunks in front of each hut.
Payton worked along without complaint. After a while, the curious glances from the working men stopped. A white-haired woman approached the men. As she got closer, Payton realized that she couldn’t be older than twenty, but her hair was such a light blonde that it seemed to be white. Her tender beauty seemed almost spooky. She brought refreshments—a big hunk of cheese, some apple slices, and bread that was still warm from the oven.
“Tapadh leat,” he said in thanks.
“Where are you from?” the young woman asked. She lowered her head so that her hair fell like a protective veil in front of her face.
Payton noticed that the other men were watching him, and he didn’t know whether it was a good idea to talk to the girl. He was just about to murmur a short answer when she grabbed his arm.
“I can see a lot of what you aren’t saying,” she said. “But if you are looking for answers, you must trust me. Ignore the others. Only I can help you! I will wait for you. Come to my hut tomorrow at dawn. Then we will talk.”
She turned and disappeared into her hut.
Payton ate his bread and drank some cool water. He worked with the men until darkness fell.
“Payton! Thank you for your help. Come now, we deserve a decent meal and a warm bed.”
Douglas clapped Payton on the shoulder and led him to the outskirts of the village. There, in a hut that stood alone, a warm, inviting glow illuminated the windows. Payton had expected to find Douglas’s wife waiting there, but the hut was empty.
“You live here alone?” asked Payton, the smell of fried meat drifting into his nose.
“Yes, like most of us here. But the women from the village look after all of us. They cook together and every hut gets its share. Just like with the peat. And I suppose with everything else, too.”
After the meal, Payton asked, “Why do you not look for a wife?”
“Well, Payton. Here on Fair Isle, it’s a slightly different view of marriage than in other parts. Here, the women decide on the man they want. They are the wise people in our village. But even they can’t decide freely. They follow the predictions and prophecies made by our ancestors.”
“And the white-haired woman—who is she?”
“Her name is Uisgeliath.”
Payton’s heart leapt. Uisgeliath was the woman Roy had told him to find. Payton had been afraid to ask for her by name when he’d first arrived on Fair Isle because he thought it might scare the villagers off.
“She protects our past,” Douglas said. “And she has an eye that opens up your soul. Nobody can lie to her. That is why it is important that you talk to her tomorrow.”
“But why were the men watching me so closely when she was talking to me?”
“Well, they wanted to see if you could withstand her eye.”
“And… did I?”
“Yes, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”
Douglas yawned. “It’s getting late. You can sleep over here on my bed. I will sleep in the chamber over there.” He started to lie down on a roughly hewn bench.
Payton tried to refuse, but his host declined. In the end, he took the bed, but he remained wide awake. When the moon broke through the layer of clouds, the little hut lit up slightly through its only window. Payton shut his eyes and pictured Sam in front of him. Sam lying next to him on the beach that night. How when she woke up, the moonlight had reflected in her eyes. Payton had felt her love, so despite the pain, he had reached out for her hand. And now, just as then, he wasn’t to find any sleep.
The next day started with a big surprise. It was still dark, but the little village was already bustling. There had been another new arrival, and it turned out to be Blair. When he had finally convinced the villagers that he was Payton’s brother, he was led to Douglas’s hut.
“Blair? What are you doing here?” Payton asked when his brother appeared in the doorway.
He made introductions, and all three of them sat down for a quick breakfast. Payton hadn’t forgotten his promise to meet Uisgeliath at dawn.
Blair reported that he’d been sent by Sean, and he handed over the letter Sean had given him.
With each line Payton read, his face turned paler until he set the page down on the table and banged his fist.
Curious, Blair picked up the letter and skimmed over the few lines. “What is this? Why would Cathal do this? He gave us his word!”
“Sean is going to try to stop him,” Payton said. “He writes that he is going to follow Cathal and his crew to the United States. But he doubts that he will be able to prevent what they have planned.”
“Yes, I can read, too. But why didn’t Cathal wait for your return, as he promised?”
“Because he isn’t the one who makes the decisions, it’s Nathaira. I’m sorry, Blair, but it’s true. And she wanted Sam to die right from the start!”
Blair stood and laid his hand on his brother’s shoulder. They both knew that whatever Nathaira wanted, she got.
“Then we mustn’t lose any more time. We will look for your answers and then get in touch with Sean. In the meantime, we have to trust that he’ll find a way to keep your Sam safe. Come on!”
They said a hasty thank-you to Douglas and rushed to Uisgeliath’s hut. She had obviously been expecting both of them, as there were already three steaming mugs of mulled wine on an old oak table. She gestured to the brothers to sit down.
“Last night I questioned my ghosts, and they agreed to accompany you to see Beathas,” she told them. “She is the village’s eldest. Nobody knows how old she really is. She has just always been here.” She took a sip of wine. “You must know by now that our people have many secrets. We have often been hunted, caught, or threatened. That is why our ancestors found it necessary to create a secret place for our history to be safely kept. Beathas is the warden.”
She drained her cup and motioned for the brothers to do the same.
“We should get on our way immediately.”
Uisgeliath wrapped a woolen cloak around her shoulders and led them out of the village. She walked silently in front of them, moving so smoothly she almost seemed to float over the rocky ground. Looking neither left nor right, she seemed to find her way easily. When they reached the coast at the north of the island, Uisgeliath ordered them into a small rowboat. It rocked and lurched and almost sank completely under the weight of the three of them.
Although Uisgeliath seemed so delicate and small, she insisted on rowing. With powerful strokes, she navigated the boat into the current a short way from the coast. Then she pulled in the oars and let the current take over for several minutes.
As if pulled by an invisible hand, the boat steered directly toward a dark spot on the rocky coast. They could see a split in the rocks, a crack that looked narrow from outside but that widened inside to a large and very dark cave, and Uisgeliath took up rowing again. They could hear only the swishing of the water and the echo of the oars dipping, dripping, and dipping again.
Uisgeliath lit a lantern. The light reflected eerily from the damp walls of the cave, creating dancing shadows on the rocks. Again and again, the cave branched out, until it became an underground labyrinth. Payton hoped the white-haired woman knew the depths of the island well. He was close to losing his own sense of direction entirely.
Neither Payton nor Blair had any idea how long they had been traveling through the dark passages, but when the water became shallower and ended in an oval basin, they got out of the boat. They no longer needed the lantern, as a bright light shone before them. They stepped across sparkling turquoise stones into a large templelike dome. Separated rays of sunshine reached the ground through tiny holes in the ceiling.
Uisgeliath stopped.
“Here we are. I will wait at the boat. Beathas is expecting you.”
And, as if on cue, an ancient lady came toward them. Beathas’s skin was white as paper, almost translucent. But despite her obviously advanced age, she was standing upright and looking them up and down with bright, alert eyes.
“Latha math,” she said politely. “Good day. I have been expecting you. Please follow me.”
Beathas went ahead of them. They crossed through the large room and ducked down through a low archway. A library was certainly not something Payton had expected to find in a sea cave, yet there it was. Illuminated by rows of neatly placed candles were countless rows of books and bound papers. A large table, with chairs around it, filled the center of the room. A book was open on the table.
She invited them to sit down and pushed the book to Payton.
“Here is everything that is left of Vanora. It isn’t much, but I think you will find what you are looking for here. I wish you the best of luck.”
Payton started to ask the old woman a question, but she shook her head before he could utter another word.
“I can’t help you. You must find out the truth yourself.”
Then she disappeared through the arched door. The two brothers looked at each other for a moment.
Payton didn’t want to waste any time. He bent over the book with focus, trying to make out the old words. The first pages appeared to be Vanora’s family tree. Then there was something written by her father recounting the day that his daughter was taken from the island together with the other seven girls. He only glanced at this entry. That wasn’t what he needed.
“Somewhere in these papers, there has to be something about the curse,” Payton murmured.
Their courage faded with every page until they came to a collection of old letters, all signed by Vanora. The first letters described her arrival at the castle of her kidnapper and of his hope that she would use her powers as a weapon against his neighbors. She wrote that she certainly did not intend to do as he wished, and she swore she’d never show him how powerful she really was.
In the next letters, she seemed discouraged. She had suffered terrible punishment for claiming to have no powers. And she had heard of a plan to lock her in a tower until she did what the chieftain wanted her to do. Then there were no letters for a very long time. Payton guessed that she didn’t have the chance to write when she was imprisoned in the tower.
When she next wrote, she had given birth—to a daughter, the letter said—but the father had taken the baby for himself and chased Vanora away. She hated the father. Not only had he stolen her child, but he had forced himself on her. In the end, she had found shelter in a neighboring land and still hoped to see her daughter someday. With that, the last letter ended.
Payton’s desperation rose.
“There are only a handful of papers left, and we haven’t found out anything!”
Still, they carefully unfolded another piece of paper. And it was exactly what they had been looking for.
Vanora had written down one of her visions. She had seen the day of her death. To avenge a terrible injustice, she would pronounce a curse upon her enemies. But then she herself would die at the hand of her own daughter. The curse would last for many years, even centuries, until the injustice was made up for by a selfless sacrifice of love. And her daughter would be the one to lift the curse.
Payton banged his fist on the table.
“Damn! What does this all mean? This can’t be right.”
Blair nodded. “Yes, you are right. The witch was wrong! She cursed us, and it lasted as long as she predicted, but her daughter didn’t have anything to do with it.”
Payton stared at the rows of candles, deep in thought. “It might be useful to know who her daughter was,” he mused.
“It wouldn’t matter. She’s long dead by now and will hardly be able to help us.”
“But if Vanora was right, then her daughter should still be alive, shouldn’t she?”
“Payton, face the truth. She was wrong. We both know who killed Vanora. It was Nathaira, not Vanora’s long-lost daughter.”
“I know. But I just can’t believe all of this was for nothing!”
“I know how difficult it is for you. Nevertheless, we should try to reach Sean. Then we’ll decide how to proceed.”
Payton dug his face in his hands. He couldn’t just swallow his disappointment and move on. He knew there had to be a logical explanation. He wished she had written down who the child’s father was, or even which clan had kept her prisoner for so many years.
The letters had made it clear that she’d found shelter with the Camerons. And she had mentioned finding refuge with one of the neighboring clans. That meant that she had fled from either the McLeans, the McInrees, the Stuarts, or the McDonalds. The only place he could rule out for certain was his own home, if only for the reason that they didn’t have a tower. And his father had been a peaceful man, who would never have done such terrible things.
He supposed he would have to talk to Cathal again, to see if he had any ideas. After all, the Stuarts’ castle did have a tower dungeon. And they had always had bad relationships with their neighbors. Still, it seemed unlikely, Payton thought. He would have heard something if Cathal’s family had ever caught a Fair Witch.
That left the McInrees and the McDonalds. Maybe Sean would be able to help. At the time of the curse, his brother had an eye on almost all the girls in the land. A witch’s daughter would surely have caught his attention.
Feeling more confused than ever, Payton stood up. The brothers took their leave from Beathas. As they turned to go, the Wise Woman reached for Payton’s hand and whispered, “When you understand the truth, darkness will devour you—but you will be happy.”
The old woman’s strange words fluttered around in Payton’s thoughts on the boat ride back, but he didn’t have much time left for thinking. The brothers had hardly regained solid ground when Blair ran off and found a young fisherman to take them back to the mainland. Then after a disconcerting phone call with Sean, they were on their way to Delaware.