Dragon Knight's Medallion (4 page)

Her aunt only snorted and muttered something else under her breath, as she and Cara made their way back to their home, which also served as the business location for the order.

“Whatever are you up to, Dad?” she mumbled out loud, before reaching for another dandelion head and blowing it into the wind.

Chapter Four

“She gathered the fragrant cluster of meadowsweet, and made a poppet for her wedding day.”

When Aileen approached her home, or what was now officially called the Society of the Thistle, she stood in front of the three-story house. Tilting her head to the side, she let her gaze drift upward, staring at the window with the beveled glass on the third floor. Sunlight glinted off the pane turning it into an ethereal scene. Her mother’s bedroom. The very one where she uttered her last breath. How her mother had loved the view from that room. You could see the clearing through the oak trees, and she often would say the faeries used to play on Beltaine, dancing and singing. In spring, it was a glorious sight, when the flowers emerged from their sleep and spread their petals in all directions.

A month after Aileen’s mother had died, her father left for England on an archeological dig. Over a week later she received a packet, explaining he had transferred the deed to the house over to her. It was then she realized he would never return to the States. Her Aunt Lily moved in soon thereafter, and within six months, they moved the Society into her 200-year-old home.

The Society preserved the history and lore of plants in historical settings. Theirs was an ancient society based on the beliefs of the druids and nature. Each of the members had a unique gift, be it psychic, or healing. They all held firm in their pagan beliefs, and honored their treasured past.

There were presently seven in the Society—herself, Aunt Lily, Maeve, Maeve’s daughter Teresa, Sally, Cara, and Gwen. All were descendants from the original order, which originated in Scotland almost eight hundred years ago.

Aileen’s thoughts returned to her mom. She chewed on her bottom lip, as a lump swelled within her chest. How could she leave here? Her mother’s spirit still lived within, and to take a trip across an ocean would be like severing a limb. What could possibly be in Scotland that was more important than her work here? Perhaps they all didn’t need to go. If she still couldn’t handle her own pain, how could she manage her father’s grief? A cool breeze touched her neck, and her hand absently strayed to the spot. “
Mom
?” she whispered.

Shaking her head slowly, she entered her home, where she was immediately assaulted with sounds of yelling mixed with laughter. Of course, Teresa’s voice could be heard over all the others. Aileen placed the flowers she had gathered on the front entry table. The commotion emanated from the kitchen. She could hear Teresa yelling for Sally and Cara to make sure their passports were current.

She passed Cara and Sally on her way to the kitchen, and Sally clasped her hands in jubilation. “Isn’t this wonderful, Aileen?” she gushed. “Scotland! Land of magic and mists.”

“And don’t forget the men, too, Sally,” Cara blurted out.

Sally placed her hands over her heart and swayed. “Big brawny Scots with husky burrs...
oh my
. How could I forget?” They both erupted into fits of laughter, as Aileen gave them both a wry smile before walking away.

Upon entering the kitchen, she spied her aunt and Maeve, heads together, talking in low voices, and taking notes. Teresa had a large map of Scotland at one end of the table, and she looked to be circling places with a highlighter. Gwen kneaded bread, but she nodded for Aileen to come over.

“Do you think you could toss in the rosemary for me?”

Aileen gathered up the herbs in the mortar and pitched them into the large bowl. “Rosemary garlic bread?”

“Yes, and creamy tomato soup.”

She watched as Gwen continued the slow process of kneading the bread, and folding it just so, repeatedly. Out of all of them, she knew her friend would understand her dilemma. Casting a glance over her shoulder at her aunt and Maeve, she let out a deep breath. “I don’t want to go.”

“Hmmmm,” replied Gwen. “I thought you would feel that way. How much more time does it say on the timer?”

Aileen peeked. “One minute.”

“It’s done.” Giving it one last pat, Gwen removed the round loaf and placed it into a large greased bowl. Taking a nearby towel, she draped it over the top and put it inside the oven to proof. Dusting her hands off on her apron, she flipped her long auburn braid back over her shoulder. “Let’s go take a walk in the garden. Besides, I think it’s a tad noisy at the moment.”

“You think?”

Leaving the other women at the table, they silently made their way out to the large herb garden right outside the kitchen. Gwen meandered over to the lavender bushes, which were just in the beginning stages of sprouting their buds. Aileen watched as she gently brushed her hand over the leaves. “I just love spring, don’t you, Aileen?”

“Yes, you know I do.” She smiled.

Gwen then drifted over to the peppermint, snipping off some leaves with her fingers. When she had gathered a handful, she placed them into the pocket of her apron. “I thought we would have some tea afterwards. I also made some cranberry orange scones.”

“Thanks, Gwen. You know those are my favorite.” Aileen sat down next to her friend. “I thought I was up early, but you must have been up before dawn.”

Gwen chuckled softly. “Oh yes, giving blessings to the Goddess, then straight into the kitchen.” She lifted her head up to the sunlight. There was still a brisk chill in the air, but the warmth of the sun was a welcoming balm. Aileen closed her eyes, too. They sat in contented silence for a bit. Bumblebees hovered nearby, and birds chirped in a melody, as if announcing spring had finally arrived.

“She wants you to go to Scotland.”

Aileen flinched, her eyes snapping open. “What are you saying?”

Opening her eyes, she placed her hand on Aileen’s, “I’m saying your mother wants you to go to Scotland.”

Aileen snapped her hand away and leapt off the bench. “Sweet Bridget! How do you know this? Have you seen her?”

“Oh, Aileen,” she sighed. “You know very well I speak to the spirits.” Holding her hand out to ward off any further questions, she continued, “And no, I have not had any communication with her prior to this morning.”

Her mouth snapped shut. Although bundled in her fur-lined jacket and boots, the chill creeping down her spine gave Aileen tremors. Hugging her arms tightly around herself, she walked away from Gwen. Oh, how she’d begged Gwen to contact her mother after she passed, but she had received no messages. Once, she had even doubted her friend’s abilities. So why was this morning different?

“What exactly did she say?”

Gwen let out a sigh. “You realize it doesn’t work that way.”

“Then explain it to me.” She waved her hands in the air.

“I had a vision before I woke this morning. She told me your destiny is in Scotland. When I opened my eyes, I could smell her scent.”

“Honeysuckle?” whispered a stunned Aileen.

Gwen nodded. “Yes.”

Tears pricked her eyes, and she glanced away. “Why would she tell you my destiny lies in Scotland? Could she not come to me?”

“Would you have listened to her? No, I think understanding you, your dream would have been only that...
a dream
, and not a vision.” Gwen blew out a soft sigh.

Aileen bit her lower lip to stop the retort. Yet, she knew in her heart, her friend was correct. Gwen had the gift of vision and sight. Her mother had chosen Gwen to deliver this message, for she realized that only from Gwen would she truly believe.

“Would you like those tea and scones, now?”

Aileen responded with a weak smile and a nod.

“Good. Come in when you’re ready.” Gwen turned away to leave.

“Thank you, Gwen.”

“You’re welcome, my friend.”

She watched her walk out of the garden and her mind began to swirl with questions. Why would her destiny be in Scotland? This was her home. Did her mother want her to reconcile with her father? Nevertheless, why would she say
destiny
? Her parents had always told her that her destiny was forever changing, and one’s path should not be forced. She felt as if she was being pulled to a place she did not want to go.

Yet, why was she fighting this?

“Because I have to face my father,” she snorted.

A sharp breeze whipped past her, and a hummingbird hovered briefly in front of her. She remained still, watching as it flitted out of sight. Then, Aileen caught the sweet scent of honeysuckle.

“Oh Mom,” Aileen uttered, before a sob caught in her throat.

In that moment, her decision was made. She would travel to Scotland and meet her destiny.

Chapter Five

“The druid filled the bowl full of poppies and moonstones, so the dragon could dream sweet dreams.”

“What a glorious sight for sore eyes,” whispered Aunt Lily. She leaned against Aileen, who had stirred awake to hear her aunt’s voice.

“And that would be what?” she murmured. Slowly opening her eyes, she attempted to stifle a yawn. It was only a five-hour flight, but with the constant chatter of her friends, it seemed longer. Stretching her long legs out as far as she could, she glanced to see what her aunt was gazing at.

“Home, Aileen. I’ve come back home.” Her voice carried a note of melancholy, and Aileen understood her meaning.

Her mom and aunt had spoken numerous times of coming back to Scotland. They both had been born here, but their parents had uprooted their tiny family for Boston in order to take over the Society of the Thistle. Her mother was only two and Aunt Lily four, but they vowed one day they would come back. Her mother did make the trip, and there she met her father.

Sadly, her aunt never made the trip, until now.

Aileen grasped her aunt’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You’ve come home for her, too.” Her aunt merely nodded, keeping her focus on the land.

It was then Aileen noticed what her aunt gazed upon. The clouds had dispersed from earlier, and now the sight of so much green did more than beckon. It actually touched a place within her soul, and she gasped. The water of the sea gently caressed the land, calling her to come forth. Her senses swam, and she fisted her hand to her chest. “I have...
returned
.”

Aunt Lily twisted slowly to look at Aileen with a look of alarm spreading across her features. “What did you say?”

She shook her head to clear her senses, blinking several times. “I...I don’t know.” She shrugged. “It’s a feeling of déjà vu.”

“Perhaps.”

They both sat staring at the landscape below, watching as the city of Aberdeen came into view. It was a clear day, but for a few clouds drifting by. Maeve tapped Lily on her arm interrupting their silence.

“Will Aidan be meeting us at the airport?”

“I don’t think so, Maeve, seeing how busy he’s been lately. He might be sending someone else,” her aunt responded.

“Humph!” Aileen bristled.

“Aw, dear, don’t fault your father for what he does,” chided Maeve.

Aileen blanched. “I’m not, Maeve, but he could at least meet us there.”

Maeve narrowed her eyes at Aileen, and whispered low, “This from one who didn’t want to come, because of
said father
?” She gave her a sharp jab on the arm before reclining back in her seat.

Aileen closed her eyes and prepared for the landing, but most of all for seeing her father. She had to get her emotions into check, or they would surely tumble forth when she saw him. To come from a family of healers who possessed great skills of empathy was at times a curse. Her parents had the gift of empathy and passed it down to her. It had been a battle most of her life to build the walls strong against the gift, since not only could she feel other’s emotions, she could actually heal with her own. However, since her failed relationship a few months ago, combined with the death of her mother, it had left her weak and unable to be around others for any length of time.

Gwen had been the one to pull her back from the brink of total seclusion. She worked with her every day, helping her with her mental exercises, and mixing teas with healing herbs. Her father certainly did not want to help. He had abandoned her for Scotland, and there was the rub. The one and only person who could help to rebuild her shields chose to leave her helpless and adrift.

Rubbing her hands across her legs, she drew forth from her well of strength and surrounded herself with her mental armor. Taking long, deep cleansing breaths, she focused so hard, that when the plane touched down on the tarmac, Aileen did not feel the jolt.

“Well, Dad, let’s see who is the stronger one,” she muttered softly.

****

To say the airport in Aberdeen was bustling would be putting it mildly. A mass of people filled the terminal. If this had been six months ago, Aileen would have never been able to make the flight. She started to feel a bit unsteady, but she blamed it on the food they served on the plane. What she craved was a cup of hot tea.

They made their way to the baggage carousel, and again the same strange sensation of déjà vu washed over her. She tried shrugging it off, believing it was tied to something she read in a Scottish magazine, but then her vision blurred, and her heart started to pound erratically against her chest. Feelings of anxiety clawed at her, threatening to take her down into the abyss of darkness.

“Shields up, Aileen.” Gwen’s soothing voice pierced through the veil.

Those simple words centered Aileen. Nodding slowly to her friend, she kept her gaze steady. Gwen might have thought she was overwhelmed by so many people’s emotions, but it was something else entirely. She would have to talk to her friend about it later.

Sally, Cara, and Teresa were as giddy as they had been before they left. It was a wonder Aileen did not have a headache from their constant chatter. Nonetheless, their chatter helped to soothe her nerves.

“Do you know where you’re going, Lily?” asked Gwen.

“Yes, he said he would meet us at the end of the baggage—”