Chapter Ten
The next morning, Carrie woke up feeling drugged. She blinked at her surroundings. She wasn’t sure where she was. Nothing looked familiar. She sat up and realized she was in a hospital room, and then everything came rushing back. Malcolm, she thought. I had been trying to heal him.
She noticed Tori asleep in a chair beside her bed and Aldain asleep in a chair next to the hospital bed, where Malcolm lay. There were no tubes or machines attached to Malcolm, so she must have healed him. She tentatively reached out to him and upon touching him, sighed in relief. He was sleeping soundly and seemed to be healed. Everyone was sleeping. She wanted to get up, but she didn’t want to wake anyone. She laid her head back down. Her entire body felt like a sponge.
She had never used the amount of energy she did yesterday. Her body had hummed with it. There had been a time she thought she might come off the ground, the energy force was so strong. That made her think of Star Wars and Yoda: “May the force be with you.”
She giggled at the thought. Tori heard her and woke up. She smiled at Carrie. “Welcome back, sleepy head,” she said as she reached over and hugged her. “You had us all worried. Especially Malcolm. He was going crazy not being able to see you. That’s how you ended up in here with him. How are you feeling?”
Carrie grimaced, “Like a noodle. I feel like I have been squeezed. I hope I never have to use that amount of energy again, but I’m glad I did if it healed Malcolm. Is he really all right?”
Tori nodded her head. “He is so all right the doctor said he could go home today if everything still looked good. He slept like a baby. Nothing happened—no return of his fever, no left-over poison, so I’m sure he’ll be released today.”
The women talked in low voices, not wanting to disturb the men, but their dragon hearing picked up their voices and they both woke up. Malcolm slowly got out of his bed and walked over to Carrie’s. He cupped her face with his hands, not saying a word, just looking at her, drinking in the beauty of her face, relief overwhelming him as he saw for himself that she was fine. The smile she gave him lit up her face and he reached down and kissed her, a sob leaving him.
“Tapadh leat mo ghaoil!” he said. “Agam ri thoirt dhut mo life. I a bhios a 'cur seachad a' chòrr de mo bheatha gràdhach thu agus a 'dèanamh thu toilichte. Tha gaol agam ort chan ann dìreach le m 'chridhe, ach m' anam. Bha thu a 'lìonadh a-steach orm.”
Carrie put her hand on his heart. “I don’t know what you just said, but it sounded lovely. I love you too.”
Malcolm didn’t realize he had reverted to Gaelic, so he translated for her. “Thank you, my love! I owe you my life. I will spend the rest of my life loving you and making you happy. I love you not just with my heart but my soul. You complete me.”
Malcolm’s declaration of love brought tears to her eyes. He said the sweetest things to her. They moved her to her soul.
Shortly after, the doctor came in to check on his patients. He declared them both fit and released them to go home.
By the time they left the hospital to go home, the entire village knew Carrie could heal. On the way home, Carrie had decided she would rather not be the Chosen One. She loved Malcolm with all her heart and she cared for the clan, but she just didn’t want the responsibility of having people’s lives depend on what she might say.
“Malcolm, would you be disappointed in me if I told you I just want to be me? I will do what I can with the abilities I have, but I just want to be me, your mate and another clan member who happens to have a few extra abilities.”
Malcolm looked at her with so much love in his gaze she knew the answer before he opened his mouth.
“Carrie, my love, nothing you decide would disappoint me. I will love you and stand behind you no matter what.” Carrie felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from her. If Malcolm supported her decision, then hopefully her world would get back to normal.
Malcolm’s parents and Aldain’s mother met them in the living room. Malcolm’s mother hugged him tightly to her as she cried. Malcolm held her and tried to soothe her fears. He was fine and fully healed. His mother had a death grip on him, and his father finally got tired of waiting and went over to both and put his arms around them as his body shook with quiet sobs.
Aldain waited to tell them what happened. It might have been wrong of him, but he would rather tell them their son was going to be okay than call and tell them to come to the hospital to say goodbye to him.
Aldain made a call to Greece after everyone got settled. Dimitra answered the phone with a question. “What happened, Aldain? Every clan that had a Cailleach is now without one—they are all gone!”
Aldain explained to Dimitra what happened, how the Cailleach had changed into a huge, poisonous serpent, almost killing Malcolm. He also said, “She called Carrie the last Chosen One, even though no kind of ceremony was performed to see if she truly is. The Cailleach knew something we don’t.”
Dimitra told Aldain she knew where some very old Tomes were, and she was going to grab them and come to the isle. They would go over them together. They had to find the underlying cause of this before someone got killed.
Aldain had the guest cottage in back ready for Dimitra and her husband’s arrival. It took Dimitra only a couple of days to gather the books she needed. When she and her husband Stavros arrived, after introductions were made, she practically forced Aldain into the study and shut the door behind them. She showed him the books she brought. Aldain could tell they were extremely old. The pages were yellowed and slightly fragile. He looked at Dimitra.
“Where did you manage to find these? they look ancient.” Dimitra smiled, “Do you remember reading about when the Romans burned Alexandria’s library to the ground?”
Aldain stood in complete shock. “Are you telling me these books were part of the Library of Alexandria?”
Dimitra smirked. “Yes, I am. I was there right before it happened. I grabbed these books and went out the back as the Romans were coming through the front.”
Aldain swallowed. “Dimitra, that happened in 48 B.C. You can’t possibly be that old.”
“Oh, but I can, and I am,” she said. “I am not only a dragon shifter, but I have some witch blood also. I put my spells to good use—otherwise what is the point of being a witch? Besides, why do you think these ancient books are in such good shape? The aging spell isn’t just for people.”
Aldain was at a loss for words. He’d never met anyone that age. The only thing he could think to say was, “Well, you wear it well.”
Dimitra laughed. “Thank you, but we need to see if we can find anything in these books that might help us find some answers to what is happening.”
They spent most of the night going over them. They had been looking for hours when suddenly Dimitra gasped, “Oh my God, he knew!”
Aldain looked at her, “Who knew what, Dimitra? What are you talking about?”
She walked over to him to show him what looked like some kind of cryptic warning: “Athena, my daughter, your wound goes deep. You saved Paragon from his eternal sleep. The curse upon his daughters I will keep. Medusa’s serpents I command, disperse throughout all the land. Destroy the Chosen Ones that are to save. Take their place or return to your grave.”
“Zeus knew what Athena had done!” Aldain said. “He cursed the female dragon shifters, but it doesn’t say how or with what.
Dimitra shook her head, “Exactly, and it seems Athena knew about it and tried to stop it somehow by having Chosen Ones try to fix it. When Zeus found out, he commanded the serpents on Medusa’s head to kill them and take their place. They became our Cailleaches, but the question is to stop what? Up to now, they have never shown malevolence toward any dragon shifter. All the female dragons seem to be fine. The only thing they can’t do is shift. I also wonder why your Cailleach referred to Carrie as the last Chosen One. I have a plan that I think might work to bring the rest of the Cailleaches together. It could be dangerous, and Carrie will have to agree to it. Let’s get some sleep and talk to her tomorrow. My head aches from all the reading we’ve been doing.”
Aldain agreed. They both headed off to bed. Their mates, having decided hours ago that they weren’t going to be out of the study any time soon, had already said goodnight to everyone and gone to their rooms.
The next morning, Aldain called Carrie and Malcolm into his study, Dimitra was present also. After everyone was seated, Dimitra walked over to Carrie. She sat next to her and Malcolm.
“Carrie, dear, I know you have been told that Aldain and others think you are a Chosen One. Tell me, have you come to a decision on whether you want that responsibility or not?”
Carrie looked at Dimitra. She wasn’t sure how Dimitra would feel about her once she gave her answer. Malcolm squeezed her hand to let her know he was supporting her and to give her courage to tell them her decision.
“I have thought about it,” she said. “I just can’t accept the responsibility that goes with it. I just want to be Carrie, mate of Malcolm. I will do what I can for the clan of course, but not as a Chosen One.”
Dimitra embraced Carrie, letting her know without words that she accepted her decision. “I have a proposition for you. Aldain and I deciphered some cryptic words, almost in quatrain form. The Cailleaches were sent by Zeus to kill the Chosen Ones and keep some kind of curse in place. He found out what Athena had done, turning Paragon into a dragon. He cursed the female line of the dragon shifters. I would like to pretend to have the Chosen One ritual. I think that might draw out the Cailleaches. I won’t speak the words of the ritual. I will make something up. It’s to be spoken in ancient Greek, and I’m sure nobody here knows that language so people won’t know what I’m saying. I think having this fake ritual will be something the Cailleaches will try to stop. They do understand ancient Greek, but I’m sure they have no idea how the ritual for the Chosen One is supposed to be performed. Aldain and Malcolm will be close by to keep you safe, but if we can round up the remaining Cailleaches, maybe we can get some answers. We can’t do this unless you agree of course.”
Carrie wanted to help. She was relieved to know everyone was behind her on declining to be the next Chosen One, but of course she wanted to help end the confusion and the dangerous things that were happening. She trusted Malcolm and Aldain to keep her safe, so she agreed with their plan. Aldain started putting things in place. He hated deceiving the clan, but it was for their safety. He sent flyers out that there was a new Chosen One and they were going to have the ceremony as soon as they could get things ready.
The entire village was excited about the ceremony. It had been hundreds of years since any clan had a Chosen One. They were the first to have one again after hundreds of years.
Everywhere Carrie went, people treated her with deference. It was a new experience for her. It made her feel so uncomfortable, but she made the best of it. She told as many people as she could she wanted to be treated like any other woman in the clan, no different. Her request seemed to be ignored; she was the Chosen One, and to the clan members that made her different from all of them.
Aldain ordered that a ceremonial hall be constructed. He wanted one big enough to hold not only his entire clan but also any other clans that wanted to attend. They were coming in from all around the world. He just hoped the hall he was having made could hold everyone. He reminded the outside clans to try and travel by human methods, as there was a chance they would be seen by the humans, and that was one thing he didn’t have the time to deal with now. They all agreed they would come in by boat to keep from attracting attention.
Aldain went out every day to check on the building of the hall. He had every able-bodied clansman working on it. There were only two days left before the ceremony. The tome was specific about what the ceremonial hall should look like. Aldain had a blueprint made and ensured the builders followed it to the letter. There was to be no electricity in the building. There were to be places where torches could be inserted and the rest of the lighting was to come from candles set strategically throughout the hall. A platform was to be placed directly in the middle of the hall where candles would be set. A small podium was to be built close to the platform where the person performing the ritual would stand. He didn’t want to leave anything to chance. He looked over the blueprints several times a day to make sure everything was perfect.
While all the construction was going on, Carrie was a nervous wreck. She spent as much time with Malcolm as she could. She would be lucky to see him at all on Saturday morning. Dimitra would be telling her the words she would be saying and how to reply as she said them. Even though the words were going to be made up, Dimitra wanted it to look as authentic as possible.
In their free time, Malcolm and Carrie sat upon a small knoll overlooking the building of the hall. Every day, they could see it start to take shape and it was a reminder to them both that Saturday would soon be upon them. They made love every night in a way that almost seemed frenzied. Aldain had told them everything would be fine, but neither one of them could stop worrying. Carrie knew she had agreed to go through with the fake ceremony, but sometimes she felt like it was a death sentence. Her own abilities seemed to have failed her in this instance. She had no idea what the outcome was going to be.