“She fought it alone,” I breathed, understanding dawning. “To protect her family.”
I lured the Beithir from the loch and struck the fatal blow, and as the light faded from the guardian’s eyes, transformation occurred. The corruption dissipated. It drained away like poison from a wound, and for one moment—one single, precious moment—the Beithir was its beloved self again. It looked at me with such mournfulness, and then it spoke to me.
“Oh. Oh … this is so sad,” I whispered, flipping the page and scanning again.
Advise them of my unswerving intent,’ it said. ‘Proclaim to them what defeated me. I fought her. I fought the darkness endlessly, but her strength was formidable. Do not allow my name to be remembered as a heinousmonster. Pronounce the truth.’ I promised. I held that incomparable creature as it passed, and I promised I would proclaim what the Cailleach had accomplished. That the Beithir was a victim, not a ruinous villain. The beloved Beithir had fought the malevolent corruption until the very end.
I had to stop. My breath shuddered. The ring was glowing now, warm and insistent, almost urging me to continue.
And then she arrived. The Cailleach. I felt her maleficent presence before my eyes beheld her, a chill so deep it burned, a darkness that swallowed the moon’s light. She was incensed. My actions had sabotaged her schemes and exterminated the weapon she had spent years cultivating. Forthwith she cursed my bloodline and every daughter borne from the Wright line.
Every person your blood considers beloved,’ she said, ‘the water will claim. You stole The Cailleach’s creature. The Cailleach will take everything from you. Generation after generation,until your bloodline beholds nothing but devastation and bones.
“The Cailleach,” I breathed. “She cursed us. Not the Beithir.”
“It makes sense,”Quilliam said.“It’s always felt like such a cruel curse, but I get it now. This was punishment. Revenge.”
I kept reading, Isobel’s words blurring through my tears.
I tried to inform my family, but they did not believe my words. They identified only the death I caused. They believe I executed the guardian, resulting in the curse upon our kinswomen. My family deemed me a traitor and they fled from a threat we do not completely understand.
“They thought Isobel had caused the curse somehow. They didn’t know it came from the Cailleach.”Quilliam was pacing the table, his spiky tail dotting the air as though to punctuate his words.
“Och, no, they didn’t, did they? They only saw the aftermath and drew the wrong conclusions.”
I found one more decoded passage at the very end.
I am close to death. My every breathconfirms thus. But I will not depart this life a contemptible traitor. My truth is penned here, in the cipher only others may decrypt, and I pray someone recovers my truth at the appropriate time. The Beithir was not a brute, and I am not a villain. And the Cailleach—the ravenous dark—is still out there. Whomsoever reads this, I beg of thee. Convince them what I was ineffectual to complete. Keep the promise my weakness prevents me from affecting. My departure from this life cannot be in vain.
The entry ended there. I sat back, shaking, tears streaming down my face.
“She gave her life…to save her family and Loren Brae. And they called her a traitor for it.”
“Aye, lass. I’m sorry.”Quilliam hurried over to curl into my palm, worry on his wee face.
“But what will we do? Am I meant to fight this Cailleach? To find her? Is that the only way to break the curse? Because I’ll be honest here, Quill, I just don’t know…” I shook my head, unable to finish. I was just a Bookkeeper. How was I meant to defeat an ancient darkness?
“Maybe we need to call on the Stone of Truth,”Quilliam mused, hopping down from my hand and pacing across the table.“Because surely it won’t like the Cailleach using its guardian for nefarious means.”
“And the Beithir’s son doesn’t know any of this,” I saidslowly, the wheels turning. “He thinks one of the Order murdered his father. He doesn’t know about the corruption, or the Cailleach, or the fact that his father begged Isobel to tell the truth with his dying breath.”
“He’s been grieving a lie for three hundred years,”Quilliam agreed.“And the Cailleach’s curse has been feeding on that grief, using his rage to make it stronger.”
“If I tell him the truth, if I keep Isobel’s promise, what happens to the curse?”
Quilliam was quiet for a moment.“The curse came from the Cailleach. It may not break simply because the Beithir understands. But if he stops feeding it with his anger... if he withdraws his power from it...”
“It might weaken. Might unravel.” I straightened. “Because it’s the Beithir that’s controlling the loch, isn’t it? That’s the one who pulled Graham in today.”
“It’s possible. The Beithir has been sustaining the curse with his hatred for centuries. He’s become part of it, even if he didn’t create it. If you can change his heart, make him see the truth...”Quilliam’s tail flicked.“And appeal to the Stone of Truth for help? It might be enough to break the hold of the curse on your bloodline. Because at the end of the day, if you stand for the Stone, it should work on your behalf, no?”
“One would think, but then wouldn’t a curse not have landed on my bloodline? If Isobel was fighting for the truth?”
“Maybe the Stone didn’t know? Maybe you need to appeal directly to it?”
I stared at the diary, at Isobel’s final words. A woman who had died trying to save her family, branded a traitor by the people she loved.
“It starts with the Beithir, I think. I have to tell him. I have to tell him what really happened to his father.”
