Begin Where We Are Page 3

  She on the other hand looked furious. “Magnus, much trouble has gone intae getting ye here. Everything I have done is for you, tae prepare ye for this—”

  I banged my fists on the table and stood leaning over it. “You have nae done one thing for me. Not one—”

  She leveled her gaze. “I got you Kaitlyn.”

  “But you dinna let me stay with her!” The guards closed in behind me, four. Twould be difficult tae fight four without the use of my hands.

  “Tsk tsk,” said Donnan. “Is this all about the Kaitlyn Sheffield of yore? This is why you’re angry, Magnus? Because Kaitlyn Sheffield is long gone, there’s no sense in dwelling on the past.”

  I lunged aiming my bound hands at his throat. “Her name is Kaitlyn Campbell!” I was dragged off the table, draggin’ a plate and a glass along tae crash tae the floor.

  Donnan said, “Show him to his rooms.”

  I was dragged strugglin’ tae the door by guards.

  I managed tae knock a sculpture and then a table over with a crash of glass as they forced me down the room. I was shoved to the hallway, then forced tae stand and walk between the guards down another long stone passageway tae a far away door. I was shoved through.

  The door closed shut and locked behind me.

  * * *

  An entirely new room — so bright I could only make out the larger details. I had tae keep closin’ my eyes against the strain of it. There was a wall of windows looking out over a lush landscape. I guessed I was about five stories above the ground. The gardens below had a maze, walkways and paths, and manicured grass stretchin’ a fair distance. I could see the edge of the large arena that I noticed earlier from the bridge. There were mountains in the cloud-covered distance but I couldna make out the peaks.

  Within the room against the wall stood a large, ornately carved bed covered in lavish bedding. On the floor was a woven rug.

  In front of the far wall, a light-cast, an image — a Scottish landscape, a familiar landscape — highland stones and craggy rocks. It shifted as if twas alive.

  There was a fireplace on the opposite wall, with a small crackling blaze on the hearth. The sound of it filled the room.

  The only other furniture was a small table with two chairs and beside that, a doorway tae a closet. Another door opened tae reveal a modern bathroom: a shower, a toilet, a sink.

  My wrists were still bound. I banged on the door with my fists. “You forgot tae take the shackles off!” The same kind of small opening slid wide. I put my fists through and the metal bindings peeled from my skin.

  I rubbed my wrists trying to remove the feeling. I remember… tis like a vibration on my skin. Fury rose in my chest — fury at everything they had stolen — that they were stealin’ from me.

  The bathroom had a mirror and I checked around my neck. A square of metal much like a bandage was adhered behind my ear. It wouldna be easy tae escape with this magic on my skin.

  The shower controls were confusin’ and I dinna want tae think on it much so my shower was uncomfortably cold.

  When I emerged from the bathroom, the wall of windows had turned dark. The gardens below twinkled with lights along the trails and paths. The sound of insects at twilight was amplified uncomfortably loud through the room.

  The projected Scottish landscape dimmed as well. I had nae idea if it was truly night — what was real and what was bein’ invented — it all felt much like imprisonment. I climbed intae the bed, pulled the covers up, and the last light in the room went thankfully dark.

  * * *

  My horse was at a full gallop. I held the reins tryin’ tae keep her under control, my sights on the horse ahead of us, tearin’ down the road. Kaitlyn was ridin’ it, and the horse kept going. She was always ahead, never slowin’ or faltering. Fear surged when I saw the horse near a tree, but it dodged without breakin’ stride, and nae matter how I rode, how much I urged my horse, it wasna good enough. I couldna get tae her, fast enough — “Kaitlyn!”

  * * *

  I sat up gasping and clutched my chest tryin’ tae get above the wave of fear takin’ my air.

  A woman’s voice beside my ear asked, “Which Kaitlyn are you speaking of?”

  I wasna keen on answering, so I ignored it, yet it pressed, “Which Kaitlyn?”

  “My wife, Kaitlyn Campbell.” I spoke it intae the dark air with my head bowed.

  The light changed in my room and the far wall brightly glowed. I looked up tae see an image of Kaitlyn Campbell that took my breath away. It was large. I was drawn toward it as it shifted. She was lookin’ down and then her eyes looked up, her face opened intae a smile. Someone or something caused her face tae light in happiness.

  She was smilin’, staring out at something I couldna see. I changed positions tae look her directly in the eye, but she continued tae stare above my head, beyond me, intae the distance. What was she smiling at? She looked older. Her hair was different. Who was she smiling toward?

  I asked, “When was this?”

  The voice answered, “This photo was taken on December 10, in Florida, the year 2028. Kaitlyn Sheffield Campbell was thirty-four years of age.”

  The photo shifted again, Kaitlyn, her face lighting up at the sight of someone.

  “How long ago was this?”

  “This was three hundred and fifty-three years ago. Would you care to see more?”

  I sat down on the bed.

  “Nae, tis enough. Keep it on.”

  I watched the image shift, Kaitlyn’s face lightin’ up. “Can ye tell me about her?”

  “Kaitlyn Sheffield Campbell, born December 5, 1993, married to Magnus Archibald Caehlin Campbell,” said the voice, “on July 2, 2017.”

  The voice continued, “Kaitlyn Sheffield Campbell lost her husband on October 24, 2018. She signed the Death in Absentia judgement and was declared a widow on November 29, 2028.”

  “So this image was taken soon after she became a widow?”

  “Yes, eleven days later.”

  I watched the loop of Kaitlyn smilin’ over and over.

  “Would you like to hear more?” asked the voice near my ear.

  I watched the shiftin’ and the smile of my wife. “Aye.”

  “Kaitlyn Campbell gave birth to a son, Maddox Carter Wilson, born on April 25, 2029.” The image shifted tae Kaitlyn, smilin’ and holdin’ a bairn in her arms.

  “Och.” I collapsed on the bed.

  After a moment I managed tae ask, “Who was the father?”

  The lightin’ in the room shifted. I ken the photo had changed tae the man who fathered Kaitlyn’s child but I couldna look.

  “The father was Tyler Garrison Wilson, born January 9, 1992.”

  I asked, “Did they marry?”

  “There are no records of a marriage between Kaitlyn Sheffield Campbell and Tyler Garrison Wilson.”

  I stared up at the ceiling. “Can ye tell me what happened tae her, how she ended?”

  “Kaitlyn Sheffield Campbell died on July 2, 2076 at the age of 83. She was surrounded by friends. She was survived by her son, his wife, and two grandchildren. She was cremated.”

  I sat up and looked at the newest image — Kaitlyn, older. Her hair turned gray, her face lined. The smile though. The eyes. Twas Kaitlyn smiling through the years.

  “Can ye remind me how long ago this was?”

  “Kaitlyn Sheffield Campbell passed away three hundred and five years ago.”

  “I daena want tae see anymore.”

  The room returned tae darkness.

  But when my eyes closed there was a glowin’ shape, Kaitlyn, as if she was an echo inside me.

  I pressed m’fists tae my eyes. “She is safe.”

  “Who is safe?” asked the voice.

  I slammed my fists tae the mattress. “I daena want tae talk anymore.”

  “Yes, Magnus, good night.”

  I breathed in and out. “She is safe. She lived on. She had a child. She was happy.”

  I banged my fist on the mattress. �
�She lived a long life without me. She was safe and good and wasna that what I wanted? That was all I wanted.” I yelled at the ceiling, “All I wanted was for Kaitlyn tae be safe. Without me she was. She had a child. Grandchildren. Without me she was.”

  She was.

  She was the past, nae more than dust.

  My voice cracked apart and turned tae a cry. “Without me she was.” I hit the mattress. My fists were nae full of fury but of pain. I pulled tae my side and couldna understand how tae go on from here…

  Kaitlyn

  I heard shattering glass and activity in my living room and then my bedroom door slammed open, but what was I going to do about it? If it was a thief, they could have it. All of it. I shimmied down into my covers.

  The bed shifted like that one time months and months ago when Magnus came home. It wasn’t Magnus though, not anymore.

  Hayley’s voice said, “Hey, sweetie, how ya doin'?”

  I stared at the underside of my sheets.

  “You doing okay?”

  I burst into tears.

  “Yeah honey, I know.” She nudged me a bit, so I moved over and then she laid down on the bed beside me. “I know.”

  I cried for a long while. Not about anything in particular, not anymore, but about everything. Then I asked, “How’d you get in?”

  “Quentin broke out a window. We are super worried about you and so you don’t get a glass window anymore. You should have answered your phone.”

  I pulled a tissue from the box I kept under the sheets with me and blew my nose. “I don’t really want to see anyone.”

  “Yep. We know. But sometimes you don’t get what you want.”

  I sobbed. “I never get what I want.”

  “It kind of feels like that, huh?”

  I nodded my head under the covers probably adding to the matted-hair thing I had going. It had been a while since I wasn’t in bed. How long?

  “What time is it? What day?”

  “It’s 10 am, Saturday, November 3. It’s very dark in here. These are some excellent window coverings by the way. I need these in my house so I can sleep better.”

  She didn’t say anything more and I didn’t answer so we sat there in silence for a few moments.

  I said, “You don’t have to stay here. You checked on me. I’m sure you have something to do.”

  She huffed. “Well, see, that’s not how this works. First, your house has a broken window out front so someone needs to stay here and deal with that. Second, while I have heard your voice now, so I don’t have to think terrible things happened to you, past tense, I’m even more worried about what might happen. Because this doesn’t look good. So I’m not leaving. I’ll live here if I have to. Because you’re a wreck. And rightly so, I get it. I understand. We all understand but it’s time to let us help.”

  “I don’t want any help. I just want Magnus to come home.”

  “Yeah, me too.” She curled on her side facing me, a lump under the covers. “But he didn’t sound like he was coming home, honey. Like he didn’t know if he could. That’s what you told me so I don’t think you can keep going like this. It’s not waiting, this is giving up. This is sad. This is dying inside, sweetie. Let us help you.”

  I stayed quiet because she made me cry again a little.

  She kept talking. “Zach and Emma are really worried about you. Have you seen Ben?”

  “No, I can’t.”

  “But he’s finally getting interesting — sadly no tattoos yet, but he’s got a little swagger.”

  “You are a terrible aunt.”

  “Yeah…” she paused. “Zach said you’ve been ordering food from delivery places. You know he sees the delivery men at your door. You pay him. You pay him a lot of money. You should let him cook for you. You should let Emma clean up around here. You haven’t even opened a box.”

  “Quentin and Zach moved it all in here and I… I hate it. This isn’t my house. I don’t want to live here.”

  “I know you know this already, but Zach’s parents are pressuring him to face reality and get a ‘real job.’ Emma’s parents hate him, and want her to move to Gainesville for ‘stability.’”

  “He has a real job. It’s stable. For as long as—”

  “You aren’t throwing off a real stable vibe, sweetie. So he’s getting a lot of pressure and he’s going to have a conniption. He’s going to throw himself in front of one of the food delivery cars and then that will be it for him. And then Emma will be right next door crying while you’re crying and it will be all your fault—”

  “I don’t think you’re helping.”

  “Exactly! But I want to. I just don’t know what to do or say — what is a bestie supposed to say, ‘I’m sorry the love of your life is gone?’ It doesn’t seem like enough. How am I supposed to help?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “See, and you know how to do everything.”

  “I don’t know how to keep Magnus here.”

  “Well, Magnus is in many ways an impossibility. Some things can’t be helped. Even you couldn’t do it, and you were the head of our prom committee and really did that whole thing by yourself. Plus you went to prom, looked beautiful, and were the prom queen. So yeah. You can do anything but this. And this is big. Bigger than big. Your man crossed time for you and would do it again in a heartbeat if he could but…”

  I pulled the covers tighter over my head. “I just want to be alone.”

  Hayley huffed. “I know you do but here’s the thing — I can’t leave.”

  I sighed and forced out, “Why not?”

  “I’m… I’m kinda going through something. I don’t know how to…” She sighed. “You know how Michael is in the classes? He’s got two night classes now and one on Saturday and it’s been really weird. I’m at home by myself. I’ve been drinking a lot and… I was thinking I don’t really like how that’s making me feel.”

  I pulled the covers down to see her face.

  She continued, “Like I’m supposed to be the fabulous one, right? But I’m at home alone while he’s bettering himself and the drinking — you know you might not have noticed but I’ve been doing that a lot and… I don’t really know what to say about it. I’m just going through something and wanted you to know.”

  “Really?”

  She huffed again. “I mean I’m not talking about going total transformation. I don’t want to quit or anything but I just need something else to do. So that I’m not feeling like I’m useless.”

  I watched her face to know she was done, then I said, “I love you and I really wish I could throw the covers off and climb out of bed and be the kind of person who could make a list of fun things we could do while Michael is in class. But I have a giant gaping hole inside and all I can do is fill it with tears and then try to keep my head up so I don’t drown. And I’m sorry that I can’t be better. But I just can’t.”

  She said quietly, “Sweetie, I’m not asking you to be that person. I know you can’t. I’m asking you to let me take care of you.”

  We both sat there for a little while.

  Finally I asked, “What would that even mean, ‘take care of me?’ I mean, you want to make me food? Go grocery shopping?”

  “Hell no. I mean, I would if that’s what you wanted, but I could come help you unpack boxes. I could call Zach and tell him what to cook for you. I could go next door and pick up the food. I could give Emma a list of things to buy. I could do all of those things. We could watch movies and you might feel a little better and I might feel a bit of purpose and maybe we can help each other.” She added, “While watching Paul Rudd.”

  “I don’t like Paul Rudd anymore, maybe Chris or Liam Hemsworth.”

  “Yum. We can have a Hemsworth binge-watch.”

  It was my turn to sigh and I did it dramatically. “Okay, you can come over here. Please use a key, there’s an extra in the drawer by the kitchen sink. You can unpack some boxes. But you have to ask me first. I do not want you putting up pictures. I’m n
ot ready for that. But it would be nice to have my clothes unpacked. I’ve been wearing this for days and days and days.”

  I flounced to my side wrapping the covers all around me. “But I’m not getting out of bed. Maybe to go to the couch for a little while. But don’t get all pushy. And I can’t see Ben yet. I just can’t. I just. Can’t.”

  “Okay. I’ll tell Emma. I love you. Thank you for letting me help. And speaking of wearing your clothes for days and days when was the last time you showered?”

  “Hayley, don’t get pushy.”

  “Fine.”

  Magnus

  Four men crashed through the door tae my room and wordlessly grabbed me from bed, overpowered me when I struggled, and shoved me in front of Donnan.

  “It’s your first trials today, boy. You should rise.”

  “I am risen already, thanks.” The light burst upon me so brutally fast my eyes watered.

  “Don your kilt. You fight in a few minutes.”

  “Who? Why?”

  “Your Uncle awaits. You stand between him and the throne. He wants to kill you before you take the throne. Your weapon of choice is a sword, I believe?”

  “Aye.”

  “There will be a sword at the arena.” He swept from the room.

  I dressed in the bathroom. When I emerged the guards grabbed me by the arms, shoved me intae the hallway, and fell intae position around me forcin’ me down the hall. We traveled down five floors in an elevator, along another long passageway that seemed tae go underground, and finally, I was pushed through tae a small room with double doors at the opposite end.

  The voice that was missin’ from my ear since I told it tae turn off last night said, “Magnus, get ready, the fight begins in three, two, one—”

  The doors swung open ontae a cavernous arena, the biggest I had ever seen and I had tried tae watch a soccer game on the tv with Zach.

  The sky was open, bright, hot, and the sky blue. I was grateful tae see it after many long days. The walls were flat and vertical and covered with movin’ images of people cheering and yelling and clapping. Tens of thousands of people. The sound pounded in my ears. A roar. Twas verra hard tae concentrate, but I had tae — a lone man stood at the far opposite end.