On the heels of that whispered confession, I couldn’t help dragging my gaze to his, to decipher what he was thinking. There was no condemnation there, and more telling was the fact that he wasn’t surprised. It was as if he’d expected it!
“It’s more than just a family heirloom, isn’t it? What’s really going on, Gage?”
The silence was weighted. I felt vulnerable as he stood over me. “You’re not ready,” he ground out harshly. “But there is no other choice. Leaving you ignorant only puts you at risk.”
He shifted, eyes traveling the course of the room, as though searching for something. I shivered and couldn’t help thinking that he wasn’t searching the room for something, but rather someone. Was I not safe in my own home?
His eyes swiveled back to mine as if sensing my rising panic. The cerulean depths were swirling with an emotion I couldn’t decipher. “Nora was supposed to have told you about the legacy. For some reason, she didn’t. But she did prepare something for you; moments before her death.”
Gage reached inside his leather jacket and pulled out a small white envelope. It was sealed, but the edges were worn. He held it up between us, and I could see my name written on the front in Nora’s rolling calligraphy. “I believe most of your questions will be answered here.”
“You haven’t read it?”
“No. Although I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to.”
The admission surprised me. “Why?”
“Because I’m sure it contains the reason she kept your existence a secret from me.”
“That only makes me question all the more why you didn’t read it.”
His gaze was intense, one I couldn’t escape. “Would you have trusted me if I had?”
I flushed. He was right; I wouldn’t. I dropped my gaze back to the envelope. Now that the time was nigh, I felt myself back peddling. “Do I have a choice?”
His eyes hardened. “There’s always a choice. Whether you make the right one is up to you.”
I hesitated, lifting a hand to rub it through my blond strands. I knew I stood on a precipice, aware that my life would irrevocably change once I read the letter. But ignorance was no longer a shield I could hide behind. In the end, it was simple—Nora’s letter had answers, and I needed them. It was time to peel off the band-aid and understand exactly what it was my grandmother had been doing here three years ago, and why my fiancé had just tried to kill me.
Taking a deep breath, I pulled the letter from Gage’s grasp.
15
Brydie
Gage silently left me, disappearing into the kitchen. My gaze fell back to the envelope in my hands. It was now or never. Dropping the cloth into the bucket, I scooted over to lean my back against the hallway wall and reached inside.
I pulled out a double-sided sheaf of paper. My hands were damp with sweat as I smoothed out the wrinkles. This was it. The answers I’d been looking for.
Taking a deep breath, I focused on the first line and began to read.
Dear Brydie,
I know I have hurt you, and I’m sorry for it, but you must understand I did it to protect you. Those few months we spent together after the death of your parents led me to believe that you were a Dormant—someone without the ability to access your magic.
But it appears that Andrew deceived me. For today, I received a letter, postmarked from New Zealand, written in your father’s hand. It is dated just before his death—over three years ago, and he claims that he removed all memory of your magic when you were seventeen. He sought to protect you from our legacy—from your Druidic ancestry. I’m mortified by how my actions have been affected by his. I understand his reasons, but I don’t agree with what he did. For the horrible truth is that we can’t outrun our destiny; the prophecy will follow us, whether we wish it to or not.
Every descendant born of our line is aware of our heritage and understands the potential that they may one day wield. Going by your father’s actions, it is clear that Andrew would never have shared the prophecy with you. Therefore, I can appreciate that this letter and its contents will be a shock. I can also understand that you will be reluctant to travel to Scotland if you are not given a plausible reason why.
It is hard to put our legacy to paper, especially to someone who grew up outside of the prophecy. But you must know that you are special, Brydie, in more ways than one. Firstly, you are a descendant of the first Druids—men and women who wield the natural power of the world around us. To be a Druid is something to be proud of. Our genealogy ensures that each of us has the potential to wield the power of the elements like our ancestors before us.
But you are more than a Druid, for our line has also been fused with a Celtic deity by the name of Cailleach. Her legend spans the length of Scotland and even reaches into England and Ireland. She was the Goddess of Winter and the harbinger of death, and we are her children—Children of Winter.
Our lineage is affected by a prophecy that was initiated three millennia ago. A prophecy that unites all descendants of Cailleach. For the Goddess of Winter mated with a Druid. He was our great grandfather, a man called Tritus. Their union defied the gods, but most especially another Druid by the name of Talorgan. When he heard that their union had created a babe, he awoke Arawn, the God of the Underworld, and exchanged his soul in return for eternal life and enough power to kill Tritus and the babe. This action stirred a change in the world and has opened the door to chaos. And with every generation, the balance of nature becomes more unequal.
Talorgan killed our great grandfather, but Cailleach escaped and birthed the babe—the first Daughter of Winter. To secure the infant’s safety, she enlisted the help of her sister Cerridwen, the Goddess of Prophecy. Cerridwen put the prophecy in motion, and the die was cast. For so long as a Daughter of Winter exists, Talorgan will do his worst to remove her from this world. And for so long as Talorgan exists in this world, a Daughter of Winter is tasked with avenging Cailleach and restoring the balance to nature.
All Children of Winter are tied to this prophecy. But it is the female line alone which is tasked with this burden. It is one which a Daughter of Winter cannot escape. Either we succumb to the task set before us or Talorgan destroys us. And if he wins, and our line becomes eradicated, Talorgan’s reach will extend further, and Arawn will establish a stronger foothold in this world. The consequences of that are inconceivable as we already struggle to turn the tide against the dark.
Therefore, what Andrew did—keeping your birth a secret from me—was wrong and came with great risk. I only heard of your birth the night they died. It was with trepidation and hope that I journeyed to New Zealand to see what daughter you were—Cailleach’s or Andrew’s. The answer was immediately obvious on my arrival. You did not show any signs of being a Daughter of Winter. Nature’s elements eluded you, and I concluded that you were Dormant like your father, unable to access your potential.
This only reaffirmed that with the death of my son, I would be the last Daughter of Winter—the one who was meant to end this curse as prophecy dictates. But I was wrong. Andrew’s letter confirms that I’m merely another custodian and that you are the last Daughter of Winter—the one prophesied to end this war with Talorgan.