The mask was not helping. And so, while Alistair and Ian were away, no matter how much it might hurt to release the shield that was protecting his heart, he needed to let it go. Murdoch could do nothing now. But Christopher could.
It hurt to take a breath of air as a Kincaid again and allow his carefully trained thoughts and feelings to rush free, but Christopher let that breath fill his lungs gladly. He would take whatever pain he needed to if it meant that nobody else needed to suffer the way that the Barclays no doubt would before the day was over. He thought of Greg and Maggie Barclay and their bairn, Joe, and prayed to whoever would listen that the family and the wider clan made it through the day safe.
He moved to the mirror and glanced at himself. Nothing had changed, and yet everything had. By becoming Christopher again, he felt like he was looking at a different man in the looking glass than he had earlier that day. This was the man whose sister had helped save the Murray clan. This was the man whose familyhad fought over and over again for the freedom of the people of Scotland. And Christopher would not let them down.
As though it had just been waiting for his mask to lift, Christopher's instinct suddenly twinged in his mind. He did not need to sit back and do nothing. He was in the middle of Campbell Castle, given unprecedented freedom to go almost anywhere he liked without supervision. Why was he wasting his time?
With a nod to himself in the mirror, he turned and strode purposefully out of the room, his head held high.
Though there was no need to stay hidden, part of Christopher could not help but feel like he would be spotted instantly if anyone caught sight of him. He felt so different from his Murdoch persona on the inside that he felt strangely sure that any of the castle guards would be able to spot that on the outside with just one look.
He stuck to the quieter corridors, slipping through side doors and taking the longer route as he headed down toward the war room, keeping his purpose as hidden as he could.
"Murdoch?"
He looked up in alarm but relaxed when he saw Kier, who he had often trained with since that first day.
"Ye're nae out with the others?" Christopher asked, hoping that the man couldn't hear the difference in his voice.
Kier shrugged. "Me mam was a Barclay. Ian suddenly needed me tae take care of things here at the castle. He's a clever lad."
Was Christopher imagining the low anger in Kier's tone? He thought he must have been, because when he looked at the other man's face, he was smiling once more.
"Clever indeed," Christopher agreed. "He's left me behind so I cannae steal all his glory."
Kier barked a laugh. "Watch he doesnae hear ye say that," he said. "I'll see ye later."
Christopher nodded and smiled. He waited until the bald man had completely disappeared from the corridor in the other direction and wondered at the situations life put them in. If his mother hadn't stolen him away, would he have known Kier years ago? If Kier's mother hadn't clearly passed at some point in his past, would the man be here serving the Campbells? There were so many stories untold, so many possibilities unexplored, and it hurt Christopher's head to try to consider what any of it might mean.
Shaking his head to clear it once he was sure he was entirely alone again, Christopher made his way into the war room. He did not stop but headed directly to the opposite wall where he knew a small, hidden door waited. Ian had shown it to him a few days before. He located it after a moment, then pushed it open, revealing the war room library beyond.
Books and scrolls were stuffed haphazardly into shelves, rows of maps and records as far as the eye could see. Christopher did not hesitate. He immediately set to work, rummaging through the dusty shelves and boxes, pulling out anything that might be of help in any way whatsoever. He didn't know exactly what he was looking for—numbers, names, maps, anything at all—but he knew that he'd recognize it when he saw it. He needed anything at all that could help prevent the war that was coming closer and closer every breath that passed.
After about twenty minutes, he spotted a rolled map that lacked the dust of the others on the shelves surrounding it. He pulled it out and carried it over to one of the tables, unrolling it and setting down weights in the corners to keep it flat.
His eyes widened as he realized what he'd found.
It was a map of the Highlands, including the islands and encapsulating the whole of the north right down to the boundary faultline. Several places were marked with colored shapes,including a dark red cross over the location of the Murray clan and another, brighter red mark over the Kincaids.
Heart racing, Christopher leaned closer to the map, intending to study it as closely as he could. He could not overestimate how much information could be available from this—clearly part of a larger plan—and he needed to learn as much as he could before time ran out.
"I kent I'd find ye here. I kent ye'd go sneakin' around as soon as everyone else was away."
He jumped at the unexpected sound of the feminine voice and saw Morag standing in the doorway, smiling victoriously at him. Panic flooded his chest, though he managed to keep his expression organized as he reached desperately for Murdoch once more. However, as Morag moved closer, the mask slipped out of reach.
"What's yer excuse, then?" Morag taunted. "Curiosity? Interest in yerfather'swork?"
"Morag—" he started roughly.
She snatched the map away from the table, and Christopher watched it fall to the ground. His chest ached and his fingers flexed, and he only barely managed to stop himself from grabbing it back.
"Ye dinnae need this, I suppose?" she asked as the library door swung closed behind her.
"Why did ye follow me?" he demanded. "Howdid ye follow me?"
"Ye're nae as subtle as ye think,Murdoch," she mocked, taking her time with the name in a way that felt like a punch. "I've had me eyes on ye all day. Ye're good with that horse of yers. Beatha, is it? Awfully gentle for a Campbell. Ye remind me of how Elsie Kincaid treated that wild horse of hers. But she's a traitor ye want nothin' tae do with, aye?"
Christopher clenched his jaw, saying nothing.
