Page 69 of Treachery in the Highlands
Rachel
Tam MacTaggart is still glowering at my father, and everyone still seems afeard and confused by the altercation between my father and Tam.Despite all the bravado on display today, I doubt any blood will be shed.And finally, the two men give up their staring match.No more flaring nostrils.No more squinted eyes.Neither man has audibly conceded, yet everyone can these two warriors have settled their differences.
My father raises his brows.
Tam seizes his arm at the elbow, and Father does the same.It's the MacTaggart handshake.Aye, the tension has evaporated.All those in attendance blow out a collective breath and relax.
"Let the games begin!"Tam shouts while grinning and now shakes hands with my father, who smiles in return.
The MacTaggarts and the Grants have been allies for as long as anyone can remember.Aye, my fellow MacTaggarts have given my father a hard time, but they dinnae hold any animosity toward our family.His banishment ended a long time ago.But according to my mother, strapping men occasionally need to insult and threaten each other to feel like masculine.
Aye, Alyssa Vescovi knows more about men than I do.
But as I watch the two clans face off, their hands hovering near their weapons, unease ripples through me.I and my aunts, my father as well, possess varying degrees and types of magic.I pray no one realizes that.Practicing witchcraft is still a capital offense in Scotland.
I edge closer to my mother, seeking her reassuring presence.And I whisper, "Are ye certain about this?"
She winks."Don't worry, sweetie.This is just men being men.They'll be sharing a dram and laughing about old times before you know it."
I want to believe her, but something doesn't feel right.My fingers tingle with an unfamiliar energy, and I wonder if my own latent magical abilities are trying to tell me something.My fingers trace the outline of the small stone in my pocket---a gift from my great-aunts, imbued with protective spells.Its warmth reassures me, even as doubt gnaws at my insides.
"Rachel," my father's deep voice cuts through the din."Come here, lass."
I make my way through the throng of kilted men who are participating in various feats of strength and cunning but pass by them without a glance.Then a wave of dizziness swamps me.I stop in my tracks, holding a hand to my forehead.What is happening?I struggle to focus my gaze, but the world has begun to spin around me.
Then the dizziness vanishes.
As I shake off the bizarre sensation, I begin to walk again, and I approach, I catch a glimpse of a stranger standing beside my father.His clothes mark him as an outsider, but there's something in his eyes that speaks of familiarity.A shiver races down my spine as our gazes connect, and for a split second, the world seems to fade away.
"Rachel," my father says, his voice gruff but tinged with an undercurrent of worry, "I want ye to meet Joey Finnegan.He's...well, he's not from around here."
Joey extends his hand, a gesture that seems both foreign and strangely fitting."It's a pleasure to meet you, Rachel."
But...I've met him before.I know the situation is not as it should be, yet my mind is clouded by images I cannae understand.
As I reach out to shake Joey's hand, a jolt of energy surges through me.The world tilts, and suddenly, I'm seeing double---Joey as he stands before me now, and another version of him, dressed in strange garb, standing in a place that looks like Dùndubhan, but is...different.Newer.
While my father and Joey go on conversing as if they have never met before, the scene around me shifts once more.I glance down at myself.I am wearing strange clothes that expose much of my arms and legs, and my hair is shorter.My shoes have strangely tall heels that make it difficult to maintain my balance.As for the castle before me...
It is Dùndubhan, but it also is not.People dressed as peculiarly as I am wander about the premises and even traipse inside the castle.And with a jolt, I ken what I'm seeing.
This is the future.The twenty-first century.
I wander toward the entrance of the modern version of Dùndubhan, growing more comfortable with my high-heeled shoes with every step.I seem to have arrived at the start of some sort of guided tour of the castle.I might as well go along with the crowd.It must be mydà-shealladhthat's causing this to happen, though I cannae understand the purpose of it.All I can do is go with the flow, as my mother would say.
While I follow our tour guide, a chipper lass with pale blonde hair begins her spiel about the history of Dùndubhan.I find myself only half-listening, my gaze darting around the great hall as I struggle to understand the strange mix of ancient stone walls and modern amenities.
"And here, ladies and gentlemen, is where the infamous 'Witches' Confrontation' took place in 1621," our guide explains, gesturing to a spot near the massive hearth.
My heart skips a beat.That's where I'm standing right now---or where I was standing, back in my own time.I blink, trying to reconcile the two realities warring in my mind.
"Legend has it," the cheerful lass continues, "that a mysterious stranger appeared during a clan gathering, causing a rift between the MacTaggarts and the Grants.Some say he was a time traveler, others claim he was a witch himself.But what happened next changed the course of Highland history forever."
My breath catches in my throat.She's talking about Joey.About what's happening right now, back in my time.I strain to hear more, desperate for any clue about what's to come.
As if summoned by my thoughts, I spot a familiar figure lurking at the back of the tour group.It's Joey, but not the Joey I just met.This one looks older, more weathered, with a haunted look in his eyes that speaks of secrets and burdens.
Our gazes lock, and I see recognition flare in his eyes.He starts to push through the crowd toward me, but before he can reach me, the world shifts again.
