Читать книгу The Magic Ring of Brodgar - - Страница 10

The inhabitants of Castle Mal and Castle Raven were preparing for the festival. For three days, Megan could not find peace. Every evening, from ten o'clock to three in the morning, she looked out the window every fifteen minutes, searching for Derek, but he never appeared. She asked Glenn and Warren about a neighbor named Derek, but they responded negatively – there were no neighbors by that name in their vicinity. During these three days, she covered many miles on foot, exploring the surroundings of both castles in hopes of encountering him somewhere. Now she could only hope for his presence at the festival, where she could ask him the questions that had been tormenting her lately.

Finally, the day of the fern festival arrived. Malcolm McKenzie's granddaughter, dressed in a kilt and cape, carefully examined every detail of her appearance in the mirror when Glenn knocked on the door.

“Megan, are you ready? Warren is waiting for us downstairs.”

“Yes, we can go. Glenn, did I fasten everything correctly?”

“Everything is fine, you look magnificent. If only your grandfather could see you now! Let's go, it’s time!”

The celebrations took place very close by. All over the field, there were preparations for bonfires. Bonfires had a dual significance in folk customs. They were associated with the sun and believed to have purifying properties. According to ancient beliefs, the flame protected a person from evil, witchcraft, and impure forces. It was precisely on this night that the boundaries between the world of humans and the supernatural realms blurred, allowing evil spirits to guard the magical fern flower.

Numerous tents stretched along the field, offering a variety of foods, while beer, ale, and whisky were sold in every third stall, attracting the longest queues. The aroma of hot stewed lamb and venison wafted from some tents and different types of sausages and frankfurters were grilled on coals right on the spot. Children's eyes widened at the sight of various sweets, cotton candy, and balloons. Opposite the tents, rows of wooden tables with benches were set up. Bagpipers played around other musicians and dancers in national costumes performed captivating folk dances. Voices buzzed and laughter rang out from all directions. The crowd mostly moved around the field; only a few sat at tables, everyone was eager to socialize. People walked towards each other, encountering familiar faces at every step, stopping to exchange a few words. Several tourists mingled with the locals, drinking ale and taking photos of everything that seemed interesting and engaging.

“It's such a nice atmosphere,” Megan remarked.

“I like it too! Warren, look, there's Alaric! Let's go say hello,” Glenn suggested.

The head of the McKenzie clan stood with a pint of ale among a group of adult males, engaging in a lively and cheerful discussion.

“Ah, here come the youngsters!” Alaric joyfully said, giving Warren a friendly slap on the shoulder.

“Friends, let me introduce you to Megan, Malcolm's granddaughter. She arrived here a few days ago.”

Megan greeted them. The new acquaintances were curious indeed; they asked her about life in London and her impressions of Scotland. She responded, but eagerly awaited the chance to leave the adult company. After twenty minutes, she took advantage of a brief pause to ask Alaric, “Have you seen Duncan? Is he at the festival?”

“Yes, we came together, but he opted for some younger companions; he’s here somewhere. I suggest you look for a group of young ladies, Duncan will surely be at the center,” he laughed.

“Oh, that Duncan!” chuckled one of the older men. Everyone began to jovially discuss Duncan's love-persuits.

“I'll go look for him. Thank you for the advice,” Megan smiled.

In a moment, she blended into the crowd, trying to quickly disappear from the elders' view, before they have a chance to stop her. In reality, she wasn't really looking for her cousin but needed an excuse. She aimlessly wandered past the tents, peering into the faces of passersby, in hopes of seeing Derek. Roaming the fair, she didn’t notice how quickly time flew by. The sun had set, and she had neither encountered Derek nor any of her relatives. Some drunk men tried to strike up conversations with her, as the festival was in full swing. People grouped together around tables overloaded with food and drinks. Ritual fires were lit all around the fairground, illuminating the surroundings with their bright light.

Megan felt tired after several hours of walking. She was looking for a place to sit, but now all the seats were taken. Ordering a pint of ale at one of the tents, she asked what time it was.

“It’s only 10:15. The fern hasn’t bloomed yet,” said the man with a smile, handing her the drink.

Moving among the celebrators, it was possible to catch snippets of conversation. Many spoke of the mystical plant. Some sincerely believed in its blooming, others mocked the believers, especially those who planned to search for it at midnight. However, Megan didn’t pay much attention, as she was occupied with searching for Derek and had no intention of wandering the dark forest at night, in the hope of finding a mythical flower, which may or may not exist. Her gaze quickly scanned the faces around the tables.

As she moved away from the crowd, the hum of voices grew fainter. She walked down towards the river. Behind her, the folk festivities and the reflections of burning fires remained. She sat on one of the large stones at the water’s edge and thoughtfully looked ahead. There, on the hill, stood Castle Raven, and to the left, in the valley, was Castle Mal. They created such a beautiful and harmonious picture.

Megan turned abruptly when she felt someone sit beside her. And there he was, the one she had been waiting for. Calmly and silently, he gazed at the river.

“Derek!” I’ve been looking for you.” Her heart began pounding with joy.

“Really?” he asked, shifting his gaze from the river to her.

“You were in my room, not only the night I was attacked, but the other night too. You kissed me. I realized it wasn't a dream. Why did you secretly sneak into the castle in the middle of the night? You say you’re protecting me, but you appear in my bedroom and ignore my questions. Who the hell are you? And what do you want from me?” Megan asked assertively, eager for answers.

“So many questions, Miss McKenzie. Where shall I start?” he asked with a slight smile on his face.

"Why did you come to my room?”

“To bring you back after you fainted,” Derek stubbornly pretended as if he hadn’t understood which night she was referring to.

“You know perfectly well I'm talking about your other visit. You were in my bedroom, whispering my name, kissing me!”

“Ah, that night… You enchanted me with your beauty. I couldn't resist; I had a strong desire to kiss you.”

“So, you really believe this barbaric tactic, of sneaking into the castle while I'm asleep, kissing me, and then jumping out of the window from the second floor, is a good approach? Lucky you didn't break your neck,” she smirked for the first time, seeing his broad and genuine smile.

“I thought it was rather romantic, not barbaric,” he teased her.

Megan was astonished by the unfolding of events, while he found it genuinely amusing. On one hand, she was angry that he ignored her questions or made light of them. Yet, at the same time, she felt joy that he was here. He had found her.

“Tell me, who are you?”

“I’m Derek.”

“You’ve already told me that. Where do you live?”

“Not far from here.”

“No one here knows anyone by the name of Derek.”

He continued to speak with a smile, never taking his eyes off her. “Really? You’ve already inquired? You’ve taken quite an interest in me; I’m flattered.”

“Yes, quite an interest. Because you’re a strange individual.”

“It only seems that way to you. I'm just an ordinary person, absolutely normal.”

“It’s odd, to say the least, that you stand on the hill outside the castle every night.”

“Not every night.”

“Fine, not every night. But you’re watching me!”

“I see nothing strange in this.” Derek kept bouncing the questions back at her, smiling playfully.

After a short pause, he added, “I’m from Thurso, that's why you couldn't find any information about me.”

“I see,” muttered Megan, feeling foolish. Mentally she tried to analyze the situation: perhaps there really was nothing strange. She might have imagined all these absurdities and believed in them. Perhaps Derek just stood near the castle on the first evening, enjoying the scenery, and after seeing that she was in danger, carried her safely to her room. Maybe she appealed to him, and decided to get acquainted with her in this unusual way. Methods of acquaintance do vary. Derek, presumably, preferred this one. After all, they are Highlanders; perhaps this is their custom.

“Are you going after the fern flower?” Derek asked with a grin.

“No, of course not.”

“Why so categorically?”

“Firstly, I don't believe in it. Secondly, I'm afraid of the dark and anything unexplainable.”

“Really?” he asked, smiling enigmatically.

“Yes really. And do you believe in these fairy tales?”

“The fern blooming once a year is an absolute fact. And I am not afraid of the darkness or the inexplicable,” he answered with a serious expression on his face.

“I hope you're not saying that you've once picked the flower and now possess magical powers?” she teased him.

“I have never picked a fern flower, and I do not have any magical powers,” Derek said just as seriously.

“That’s good to know, because I was starting to get scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Well, as I’ve already mentioned, I’m afraid of what can’t be explained.”

“But even the inexplicable can be explained; don’t you agree?”

“I don’t know. But I do know that I don’t like this topic,” Megan responded, frowning.

“Did you enjoy the festival?”

“Yes, I did.”

“How long are you planning to stay here, Megan?”

“Another week, I think, and then it’ll be time to go back home,” she answered with a slight sadness in her voice.

At these words, he grew more serious and thoughtful.

“And who will manage the distillery?”

“I suppose my cousin Warren will. Wait, how do you know about the distillery?” Megan asked surprised.

“Everyone around here knows about it,” Derek smiled and again lapsed into silence.

After waiting a bit, the girl asked, “What are you thinking about so deeply?”

“You,” he said with a smile.

“And more specifically?”

“If you leave, how will I live without you?” He seemed to be joking, but her heart beat faster at these words.

Suddenly Derek pulled her close and kissed her passionately. Megan's head spun and her chest pounded so loudly that she thought even he could hear it. She was overwhelmed by a whirlwind of emotions. This kiss was the sweetest she’s had in her life.

Derek looked into her eyes.

Megan thought about the astonishing feeling taking over her, as if she has known Derek for a long time. He felt so familiar and beloved to her. Her entire being was drawn to him. Her soul sought his. The girl ran her finger across his face, from his temple to his chin, carefully studying his handsome features. Flawless skin, precise eyebrows, dark thick hair. Today, Megan noticed, he wasn't wearing his beret.

“You’re admiring me?” he asked with a smile.

“Yes, you’re remarkably attractive; how old are you?”

He was silent for a moment, continuing to gaze at her intently.

“I'm twenty-nine,” he said after the brief pause.

“What do you do for a living? Where do you work?”

He did not seem to expect this question and wasn't ready to answer it right away. It was the first time Megan saw him at a loss.

“I work in the city administration of Thurso,” he said calmly after a moment's hesitation.

“And what about you? What do you do in London?”

“How did you know I'm from London?”

“You're originally from here, you just live in London,” he emphasized. “Everyone knows the story about how your mother left this place many years ago, being pregnant with you.”

“Yes, that's right. I keep forgetting that this is a village. Everyone knows everything about each other. I own a restaurant; my mom opened it many years ago. She moved to America to live with her husband while I stayed in London. Sam, the restaurant manager, helps me out. He’s great; without him, I wouldn’t have been able to do it."

“You’re great, Megan.”

“Thanks. Have you got family? Brothers, sisters?”

"I was an only child. My father and mother have long passed away."

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I’m used to being alone,” he said calmly and emotionlessly.

“You know, me too,” she said, smiling. “Do you hear that? The sounds of bagpipes have nearly fallen silent. Everyone has probably gone looking for the flower.”

“Are you scared?”

“No. After all, you’re here with me.”

“I'm glad you feel safe in my presence.”

“I think my family is worried about my disappearance. I left them at the beginning of the festival. They don't know where I am. I need to go. I don't want to cause any panic.”

“Responsibility is one of the main traits of your character,” he smirked. “Let's go, I'll walk you back.”

They walked slowly towards her home, enjoying each other's company. It had completely darkened. The moon was entirely hidden behind the clouds. Without getting too close to the castle, Derek embraced Megan, kissed her goodbye, and wished her a good night. She expected him to suggest meeting again or to set a date, but he remained silent. Apparently, he was the type of man who decided when and where the next meeting would occur before letting others know. Discussions and agreements were not his style.

“Good night, Derek,” said the girl, and walked away without looking back.

Closing the door behind her, she stole a quick glance at the spot where they had just said goodbye, but he was no longer there.

“Megan! We were looking for you, where did you go? I was so worried. We couldn't find you among the people at the celebration, so we thought you had returned home before us, but imagine our horror when we didn't find you here either.”

“Sorry, Glenn. I met a young man, we got to talking, and I lost track of time.”

“Well, that’s a pretty good reason,” Glenn said approvingly.

“What time is it?”

“Past one in the morning.”

“Oh, that’s late indeed.”

“It's okay, don't worry. I'll go calm Warren down. He went up to our room for his jacket and was about to go out looking for you.”

“Megan! Thank God you're back!” her cousin was already descending the staircase.

“I’m sorry; I really didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Everything’s fine. The main thing is you’re home and you’re safe. Now we can all sleep in peace.”

All three went upstairs and dispersed to their rooms. Megan was happy. She remembered Derek; his handsome face, his kisses, and realized that she didn't want to leave for London anymore. A light, dreamy smile appeared on her lips as she went to bed, full of anticipation for their future meetings. That night, the girl slept soundly and sweetly, without any dreams.

* * *

In the morning, Megan invited Gregor to Malcolm's office to discuss some points about the documents he had handed over to her a few days ago. The manager meticulously answered Megan’s questions and helped her analyze all aspects of the work. Pleased with the results of their brief meeting, she let him go.

Now that I have studied all the information, it's time to make a decision, she thought. There seemed to be only one decision to make – appoint Warren as the head of the factory, leave him in charge of Castle Mal, and head back to London. The castle, in any case, needed to stay in reliable hands. Someone had to live in it to prevent it from falling into disrepair. But Megan had no desire to leave at the moment; after all, Derek had come into her life. She pondered for a long time on what to do. The family meeting was scheduled in three days, and she would have to announce her decision. First of all, it was necessary to talk to Warren, offer him management responsibility with a fifty-fifty profit split. She had no desire to manage the work personally, as the restaurant business required her full commitment.

She could stay a few more weeks at Castle Mal to see how events would unfold. Extending her stay in her historical homeland would not be too bad. The only thing left was to make arrangements with her cousin. Leaving the office, she went down to the hall.

“Glenn, do you know where Warren is?”

“He left for the distillery this morning.”

“Did he say what time he’d be back?”

“No, he always returns at different times. If I see him before you do, I'll definitely tell him you were looking for him.”

“Thank you.”

“I hope you had a successful introduction yesterday. Warren and I wanted to introduce you to our friends. If you're interested, we can arrange, for example, a friendly lunch or dinner in the coming days.”

“Why not? Meeting new people is always useful. Yesterday's rendezvous was quite ordinary, nothing special,” said Megan, feigning indifference. She didn’t like discussing her personal life, so she decided not to mention anything about Derek just yet. There was still nothing between them, and perhaps there never will be.

“Glenn, if you're not busy right now, shall we go for a walk? I'd like to bring some heather back to my room.”

“I'd love to join you. Just let me grab my wrap. It's always chilly with the sea breeze.”

For the next two hours, Megan and Glenn strolled along the beach and through the heather fields. They got to know each other better, chatting non-stop and discovering their differences. Megan was reserved and usually only talked about what she considered safe. She could carry any conversation, but skillfully changed the subject when necessary, so her interlocutor could hardly notice the shift. She only superficially touched on personal matters. Glenn was much more sociable. Always ready to share her thoughts, experiences, and hopes – she never seemed gossipy or pushy. She had a fine sense of when someone didn't want to talk about something and tactfully changed the subject. She was interested in everything around her and listened to her company with joy and attention. Megan felt easy and calm with Glenn.

When they returned to the castle, Warren was already waiting for them.

"There you are! I was wondering where you had disappeared to.”

“Megan wanted to pick some heather, and I decided to keep her company.”

“Warren, I was looking for you earlier today. I’d like to discuss some important matters,” Megan got straight to the point.

“Sure, whenever it's convenient for you.”

“If you’re free now, then I'm ready.”

“Then let's go to Malcolm's office,” the cousin suggested.

It took them about an hour to discuss all the details. Warren was receptive to the idea of staying in the castle and taking over the management of the distillery. He thought it was the best solution to the problem.

“I think I'll stay here a bit longer. A few weeks of vacation will do me good. I've enjoyed the peaceful, measured life here, unlike London, where every day is just hustle and bustle,” Megan said.

“Excellent news! Glenn and I would be delighted. The more frequent and longer your visits, the better. Glenn is so happy with your friendship. She missed that. She has become very attached to you.”

“Thank you, Warren, I'm also very glad that we became friends. By the way, I think it's time to eat something.”

They went downstairs, where Glenn was eagerly waiting for them.

“It's so good you came, I'm so hungry. I thought if you didn't come in ten minutes, I'd start dinner without you,” she said, neatly folding the wrapper from a candy she just ate.

“What's with you today? Where does this appetite come from?” Warren asked.

“I burned hundreds of calories today! Your cousin and I walked many miles. I probably broke my weekly record in one day,” Glenn laughed.

Dinner was pleasant and cheerful, but Megan couldn't wait to go up to her room and look out the window. She was anxious and thought only, will he come tonight? Every day of her life had become one continuous wait. Every few minutes, she looked at the hill in hopes of seeing him, but in vain – Derek did not appear that evening. Only at dawn did the girl finally fall asleep.

* * *

All morning Megan was tormented by theories as to why he hadn’t come. Perhaps he decided not to appear in her life at all anymore? She was suffering, not knowing how to pass the time until the evening. Assessing her own state of mind, she found it highly disturbing. The girl justified her restlessness and confusion by the lack of activities here; she was used to the busy schedule and dynamic life of a metropolis. The first half of the day was drowned in idleness.

When Megan came down for lunch, her relatives were already waiting for her.

“Warren, I keep forgetting to ask, what does the tree and sword on the family crest mean?” she inquired.

“The tree is a Celtic symbol of life. The meaning is that the McKenzies are firmly grounded, having set their roots, and the sword is nothing other than a symbol of bravery and valor of the clan's members.”

“And why do the Drummonds have a raven on their coat of arms? What does that signify?”

“According to one legend, the founder of the Drummond clan was a tall, thin, dark-haired man. He dressed in black and probably resembled a raven. Members of his family were nicknamed The Ravens by the people. They were all dark-haired. After some time, he decided that this bird would be on his clan's crest. But don't be afraid, Megan. They were not warlocks and had no association with magic. The Drummonds were honorable people, just like the McKenzies, and there was never any conflict between our families.”

“Thank you, Warren. I've learned so much these days, it's incredible. By the way, I really wanted to visit the neighboring islands. Can we go on a tour there? I can't wait to see them,” Megan asked with genuine interest.

“If you like, we can go there tomorrow.”

“That would be great.”

The girl sighed with relief, finding a way to spend another day.

“Megan, tonight our family plans to have dinner at one of our favorite restaurants in town. Will you join us?” asked Warren.

“With pleasure.”

After lunch, the girl headed to the library she had discovered a few days ago while roaming around the castle, and continued to explore the vast rows of ancient books. Reading was one of her most favorite hobbies. Moreover, just as in Castle Raven, she found a book of Scottish tales and legends on a shelf and reached for the thick, old, ancient volume with remnants of a greenish image on the cover.

She binge-read stories about the mysteries of Scottish castles, about the blood shed within them, and the bodiless spirits forever locked within these stone walls. Here, she also learned that many Scottish families had their own spirits or house ghosts. She became so engrossed in the history and her own thoughts about it that she didn't notice how quickly the time had passed.