The Dagger

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Fiona MacDonald was just about to arrive in Scotland, and her light green eyes were were sparkling with awe and wonder as she saw the land below from her window in the jet. It was so lush and green and she was more than a little excited to meet with the barrister about her inheritance. yes it was a bit odd that seven others had declined to accept it, but she was not going to turn down a castle under any circumstances. She heard the 'fasten your seatbelts' signal and saw the flashing reminder and straightened in her seat and buckled in. clutching her hands together in nervousness, it seems forever before the pane touched down and taxied to their appointed gate. She mentally willed it to go faster, knowing that was ridiculous, but she couldn't seem to contain her eagerness.

As soon as they stopped and the remain seated lights turned off, she was up and filing off the plane. she stood at the baggage claim and waited, for an interminably long amount of time it seemed with her arms crossed and her foot taping. FINALLY, the bags began appearing and she waited until she saw her bags and then grabbed both off the conveyor and extended to handle of the larger one and placed the smaller atop it and wrapped the bungee around it to hold it there. Tipping the bags she started to walk toward the main concourse of the airport and looked around. The barrister had promised to send someone to collect her.

A young man holding a sign that had her name hastily written on it was standing near the exit with a look of utter boredom on his face. He looked like what she expected Scottish people to look like, red hair, freckles and a bit scruffy. she approached him and smiled, her own red hair and green eyes and very fair skin, weren't much different than his own but she saw him as completely different for some reason. "Hello," she said, "I am Fiona MacDonald."

He nodded, "O' course yeh are," he said and tossed the sign into the trash next to him, "Folla meh," he said and turned and started off.

She blinked at his back but followed him. Weren't drivers supposed to take your bags?" she wondered to herself. Apparently not. He led her to a car and opened the trunk and she put her bags inside. He got into the driver's seat and she started to sit in back and he said, "I dun bite," so she took that to mean she should sit in front. He drove and did not speak another word just stopped in front of the barrister's office and waited. She looked at him a bit confused and he sighed heavily, "Git in an' see tha mon," he said "Imma ta take yeh to tha castle afta." And with that he turned away.

"I see," she said and got out of the car. She stood and looked at the beautiful sign on the building. Herbert Laslow. Fine sounding name for a barrister she supposed and went inside. The interior was very beautifully appointed with what appeared to be antiques. beautiful woodwork that went all the way to the ceiling adorned three walls and a large receptionists desk was centered in the middle of that part of the room. She stepped over and smiled.

"Miss MacDonald?" the woman behind the desk asked in a very curt formal manner.

"Yes," she replied, "I..."

"Mister Laslow has been expecting you." She said as if she were late and that tardiness was causing undue inconvenience on her employer.

"Oh I am very sorry," she said, "The flight was delayed..."

"He is WAITING," the woman repeated as she stood and opened the door for her to go into another room, "Miss MacDonald Sir." She said and then shut the door behind her.

"I am sorry to have kept you waiting Sir," Fiona said hastily as she made her way over to his desk.

Herbert Laslow was a portly but kind looking older gentleman, "Not at all Miss MacDonald," he said with a smile, "Please do sit down."

"Thank you," she said as she sat and placed her purse and jacket on the seat next to her.

"Miss MacDonald," He began, "I must say I am both pleased and terrified that you have come to accept this inheritance. You seem like a lovely young woman."

"Terrified?' she asked and the look of confusion of her face could not be missed.

"Yes miss," he said, "You are to be the eighth owner of the castle since I have been in charge of it. The seven previous owner were all murdered, either in the castle itself or on the grounds."

""OH!" she said in shock, "I had no idea."

"If you wish to decline.."

"Oh no," she said, "I am accepting. I'm sure there is some logical explanation."

"If you say so miss," he said with a shake of his head that would indicate he did not believe it. They spent the next hour going over all the particulars and the monetary settlement as well. She hadn't realized there was money involved in addition to the castle. He explained her responsibilities as far as taxes and other local responsibilities. She signed where indicated and he handed her a large ring of keys. "None of those are labelled, I'm afraid. Sorry about that."

"It's ok," she smiled, "It'll be my first adventure...unlocking the doors of a castle!"

He nodded, "As you wish Miss," he said as he stood, "Good luck Miss. My prayers are with you."

She accepted his extended hand and nodded, "Thank you Mister Laslow. You have a wonderful day." She grabbed her purse and jacket and tucked the papers she'd just signed into the crook of her arm and made her way back to the car. She got in the front seat and he looked at her like she was daft, "Are yeh seriously ?" he started to ask but then shook his head and started driving. He stopped at the end of what appeared to be a long stone bridge that spanned over water an onto the castle grounds. He stopped the car and got out and opened the trunk and deposited her bags on the ground and got back in, "Far as I go," he stated.

She blinked at him and frowned, but got out of the car and expended the handle on her bags so she could pull them as she walked what appeared to be half a mile to the actual castle. He was gone before she even took one step toward it and shrugged. she jiggled the ring of keys and smiled, "Looks like it's just you and me.." She made the trek without much problem, except that she kept stopping to take pictures on her phone. it was gorgeous, why wouldn't anyone want to live here? She was at the large door, which looked to be about 5 feet across and saw an old steel portcullis above her head. "How cool is THAT?" she said aloud. And then began the trial of discovering which key opened the door. After a few tries she happened upon the proper one and smiled as she pushed the door open and gasped at the beautiful stone interior walls and beautiful old furnishings. It was a bit dusty but she expected that. She had been told there was electricity int he castle and running water, as one of the previous owners had upgraded many of the spaces for modern living. Many but not all.

As soon as she entered the castle she began to hear things, which she assumed were vermin or other inhabitants that had taken human vacancy to mean they were welcome. She saw a plug in the wall near a hall table at the entrance and pulled her phone's power cord from he purse and hooked up the phone. She was delighted to see it was charging and pulled her laptop our of her smaller bag and plugged it in as well. She smiled at the screen when she saw her parent's faces, "I'm HERE!" she said ignoring their looks of disapproval. "You two have GOT to come visit. it's beautiful!"

"Fiona dear," her mother said, "It's also haunted. Didn't they tell you that? Everyone who lives there dies...horribly."

She was about to excuse that away when her father held up a hand, "Fiona be careful. Hire a guard or something. Get some other people there to live as well, a maid, a butler, and definitely a guard."

"Get an exorcist," her mother added and then shrugged when her father shook his head at her, "What? It couldn't hurt."

Fiona just smiled, "I promise! I'll hire people and I won't be here alone and if it will make you happy mother I'll advertise for someone to rid me of ghosts. ok?"

Her father nodded, "Do it today Fiona...I'll be watching for your ad."

And he would be, she knew as much. "It will be up as soon as I get off here with you two." she promised.

"Very good," he replied with another nod, "Keep in touch....daily." To which sentiment her mother nodded enthusiastically. And then they were gone.

She huffed and then opened up a window and placed and add for a maid, gardener, butler, and cook. She wanted to ignore her mother's request but she couldn't knowing they'd be reading it as soon as she posted it. So she added to the bottom of the ad, Needed also a ghost exterminator, or exorcist. She shook her head at it but added her contact information and phone number.

She didn't expect to get any replies that say, but once the phone was charged she kept it on her the rest of the day and she began uncovering some of the furniture and dusted the main living areas. She found what appeared to be the last occupant's bedroom and frowned. It was covered in red splashes but it didn't look like paint. She saw a dagger in the middle of the floor covered in the same red. The dagger seemed to move, but she was sure it was her imagination. She backed out of the room and closed the door and looked through the keys until she found the one to lock that room.


@Cerulean
 
Sip....

"Hm."

Sip....

"Huh."

Sip....

"Ah. Here's one."

Thank god for the internet. It made his job so much easier. Well, yes his local job but also what he tends to moonlight when it comes out. But this time was going to be one of the big ones and he knew it as soon as it came up.

"Finally. A good frickin' recipe for lemon cheesecake."

A golden find, indeed. He smiled as the link was sent back home, to someone who will hopefully be making some next time they see each other.

The man would have a classic case of bedhead, if his hair was long enough for that. In his plain white shirt and blue sweatpants, he was really ready for the day. Assuming the day didn't require going outside. Sometimes it did and he would just have to deal with it.

Owen opened a new browser tab to the local newspaper, and proceeded to skim over the advertisements. After not finding too much on the first go, it struck him to get into the shower. Shrugging, the young man obeyed himself and took a quick cleaning.

Feeling rather refreshed, he took another look. Blinking, he found something promising.

"Yada yada, castle, yada yada, ghosts and murder? Ok. Yada yada Fiona MacDonald? How....how irish is this woman. Sounds like she can hack up a loogie and it would be a potato. Probably has red hair too, I mean damn, is that even a real name?"

Shaking his head, he put on some clothes as it was getting a little chilly at this point. Finally, a hit. Picking up his cell, Own punched in the numbers and gave this gal a call.
 
Fiona had left that room locked and gone about trying to clean the rest of the main living areas. She knew she couldn't get the bulk of the work done alone, but she was hoping to at least have a place to sleep, relax and cook ready for herself by the end of the day. Maybe she'd get some responses to her ad before the day was done and she'd have some help soon. She hoped so. This place was MUCH larger than she'd anticipated.

She did finish the kitchen which had been recently remodeled and she was grateful. She was somewhat of a cooking enthusiast, which you become during college or you accept the fact that your only dietary staple will be pizza. It had taken exactly five months of pizza for ehr to realize she needed to learn to cook. Her roommates had been forced to be her guinea pigs and at first that was a horrifying job, but she'd quickly developed a knack for flavors and those same initial skeptics were now among her biggest culinary fans.

She made her way back to the living room and uncovered all the wonderful antique chairs and tables that were located there but she kept feeling that room calling her. What had happened in there? She was still kind of just staring at that door when her phone rang loudly. She about jumped out of her skin and even gave a squeaked out "AHH!" in response and then shook her head and huffed at her own over reaction.

"Hello?" she answered, "This is Fiona MacDonald. How can I help you?" her voice was soft and sweet sounding and had a bit of a Texas twang to it that she'd picked up while in college. She tended to, as a linguist adopt local accents as part of her studies and it helped her with her chosen profession. She was sure before long she'd have the Scottish brogue down pretty handily.
 
His eyebrows shot up. This girl was NOT from around here, then again, neither was he. Still that hint of southern belle had Owen peg her for a southern, white chick. He couldn't tell where she might have been from, but he guess was under the Mason-Dixon line. But now isn't the time for that. She asked him a question and the seconds were flying by and the awkwardness was spreading like a wildfire. Time to squash it.

"Hello there, my name is Owen Braddock. I am calling about your add in the newspaper. I am interested, but I would wondering if I could have more information. Perhaps we could meet face to face?" His voice certainly was not European in any sense of the word, but it was a manly baritone.
 
Fiona heard the dead silence and thought for a moment she was being pranked but then a rich baritone voice rumbled through the phone and she tipped her head a bit as she held the phone to ehr shoulder and pulled out a tablet and paper and wrote down Owen Braddock. "What sort of information do you require, Mr. Braddock?" she asked, "Which position are you applying for?" she asked. He could be a gardener, a butler, a cook, she had no clue. it never occurred to her that anyone would answer the bottom ad for the exorcising.

"I'm afraid I haven't obtained a vehicle yet, but if you'd care to come to the castle, I would be happy to show you around."

She probably should not have said that, because she was there alone, but she needed help and they would be there eventually whether she met them here or not. And she did have mace and a taser...somewhere. She had the brief thought that perhaps she should charge it just in case.
 
She might have been a little too much of an open door, with her, information but luckily Owen was not anyone she would need to be afraid of. Assuming she wasn't an evil spirit or something. But the offer was friendly enough, and it would be good of him to get there asap to perform his duties.

"Oh sure, I'd be happy to swing by." He said, with a slight raise in pitch in an attempt to be more friendly. Even if it did make him seem a bit over excited.

Coughing to himself, he smiled and answered the other inquiry she had. "I am offering my services as an...exorcist. And I don't require any information yet. Other than a good time to stop at the castle. We can talk and exchange anything necessary there. It would be better if I can take a good look at the place, either way."

Getting out a notepad of his own, he had to flip past the pages of little doodles and song lyrics to get to a blank page.

"So when are you free?"
 
Fiona Was glad to hear that Mr.Braddock would be willing to make his own way to the castle. "Oh..." she said slowly, "An exorcist..." She hadn't expected that to be the FIRST call she received, but since that room with the dagger in it was making her seriously nervous, it might not be a bad thing.

"It's good you don't require any information up front about that," she said honestly, "I have only the sketchiest of information myself and I haven't had time to read through everything I was given." She realized she was sounding a bit off her rocker at the moment, and hoped he would chalk that all up to jet lag, shock, and possibly being in a haunted castle alone. Well....actually....no one had said anything about it being haunted, only that the dagger was a problem.

"Mr. Braddock," she said tipping her head, "I am completely without engagements or commitments of any kind aside from setting this castle to rights. So, whenever you can make your way here is fine with me. More than fine actually." She drew in a breath, "I am at the MacDonald castle about fifteen minutes outside town, do you know the one?"
 
The shakiness in her voice didn't surprize him. In fact, it made him smirk. She advertised for something but gets weirded out when someone actually calls for it. It also sounded like she wasn't really at all ready for wanted needed to be done. This was going to be a live one. Oh goody.

"I do." He said, trying to remember what he could about the place. The address was there but he would need to read over what he has in the notes. "It sounds like you are pretty free so how about I swing by in three days? Maybe just after lunch? That way we have our bellies full and we can jumpy right into it? What do you say?"
 
Fiona was very glad he knew where she was because she'd actually ahve to look in her paperwork to get him a physical address. "That will be fine," she said wishing he'd said sooner actually but it would give her time to clean a bit more up. "I will be expecting you then. Thank you for answering my add."

She hung up the phone and realized she'd been staring at the door the whole time. She really wished he was coming sooner, but since he wasn't..." She almost dropped her phone when it rang suddenly in her hand. She shook her head and took the call, and thankfully it was for the maid position. She really could use that help.

Before the third day she had hired a maid, Melinda Halsey; a cook, Jacques Francisco; and had an appointment with a Gardener that had arrived and then said he felt something strange and immediately left.

The morning of the third day she was sitting in the kitchen tapping a spoon onto the side of her mug in an agitated manner. She had not opened that door since she'd locked it and every time she walked by it, she felt a cold chill. She was angry that her imagination was getting the better of her. She wanted to put the whole matter to rest once and for all. There HAD to be a logical explanation. There HAD to be.

She looked at the clock for the millionth time and it was still not 12:30 yet.
 
She hung up, before he could even say goodbye. Was that on purpose, or was she just that busy? Shrugging, the young man hung up his phone and went back to looking online for recipes.

A few sunrises had past and the morning had come on the third day. He was up and got his things ready to head over. No reports of anything further happening at the MacDonald Castle so it was likely that she was still there. His car engine revved when he turned it on. "Mmmmmm-m-m-m-m-mmm." It sounded as beautiful as ever, and it purred going down the highway.

After grabbing a bite, it was work time. When he arrived he looked up at the door, with his little box of tricks in hand, he checked his phone. 12:30. Nice.

A knocked three times, promptly.
 
Fiona was as she had been before, staring at the clock willing it to go faster. The knocks on the door at exactly 12:30 startled her almost off her stool. She gave a little self-deprecating huff and smoothed down her favorite sweater. It was soft and purple, two things every good sweater should be if at all possible. She also wore faded blue jeans that fit perfectly and is the sweater hadn't been hanging down to her mid thighs, those jeans would ahve been showing off a pretty nice behind.

She moved through the living area and into the hall and pulled open the huge door. Considering its size it was remarkably easy to open and close, something she had yet to account for honestly. What she had expected to see when she opened the door, was not even slightly what appeared there. She looked around for another person but saw none so she smiled and lifted bright green eyes to him, "Owen Braddock?" she asked as she motioned for him to come in, "I hope you won't be offended," she began, "but I was expecting a balding gray haired priest in a long robe...too many viewings of The Exorcist ?" The man before her was a young bearded man that wasn't at all what she'd imagined and in many ways she was very glad of it. She had been expecting to be a bit put off and afraid of even the exorcist

She blushed a bit at having admitted such a thing, "Be that as it may," she said attempting to recover, "I am so very glad you've come. There is something I must show you."
 
When the door decided to open, Owen didn't even speak. At least not at first, he didn't. His entire being ended up wrapped in a package of red hair and green eyes. His blues were locked into her own. She is...wow. Yes, she is a wow. he made fun of her possibly being a redhead before but now he was eating his thoughts and washing it down with the notion that he really needed her phone number. Which, he already had so it seemed his own make believe cognition had secretly planned ahead for him meeting such an exquisite looking woman. Get your head back in the game Owen, she is talking to you!

"Yuppers, that is me." He finally managed after she had mentioned had revealed that he was supposed to be some wrinkly priest from the 40's or something. And she was...blushing. God, he could just take her now, it was so adorable.

"No offense taken, I find that my current state of being helps me see things a bit differently. It's a good advantage to have. Of course, so is not being possessed by a the devil. Good movie, though." He wasn't even going to mention that he was referring to his occupation and not his age.

When the door closed, Owen took a good long look at the surroundings. Seeing if anything was out of place or what have you, might come in handy before actually getting to wherever needed said exorcism.
 
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Fiona was trying to focus, but he was totally adorably rumpled and she liked his blue eyes. He wasn't what she'd expected and she was glad of it. it would be easier to talk to him. She moved out of the hallway and into the living area, "The maid hasn't started yet," she said with a shrug, "So getting everything cleaned up has been kind of a slow process." She led him through that living area and into the far hallway and the locked door. She stood there looking at it for a bit and then drew in a deep breath.

She looked up at him with those lovely green eyes and bit her lip, "My first day here I had a big ring of keys and I was unlocking all the doors and checking the rooms," she explained, "When I went in here there was blood everywhere...and a dagger covered in blood on the floor. I know this is going to sound crazy, but I know it moved." She frowned, "I backed out of the room quickly and locked it behind me and I haven't had the courage to go back in since. I apologize....it's a mess..."

She unlocked the door and pushed it open. She blinked and then furrowed her brows looking around in total confusion. "I don't understand...no one has been in here...I did not clean this..." She crossed the room, "The dagger was right here," she said pointing to the floor right in front of where she stood. "The bedding...the walls....everything...was covered in blood..." She saw something flash out of the corner of her eye and noticed the ornate box on the bedside table. The pristine, completely clean dagger was there in the velvet lined box. It seemed to move, or was that the sunlight flashing on it?

"That box was not here..." She looked up at him and her eyes were growing misty, "I am not crazy," she defended, "This is NOT how I found this room...you HAVE to believe me."[/right]
 
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Owen watched her body language as she lead him to the door in question. "I can see how getting all those doors unlocked must have been a pain in the ass." He said. "Not to mention trying to remember what key goes where is only going--" He stopped when she started to frantically go about the room. As she described the room, he stepped in cautiously. Looking around, nothing seemed amiss, but if she was telling the truth then there could be a pretty foul forces at work here.

He couldn't take any chances that she could be lying. "Relax, I believe you. We just need to keep our heads on a swivel okay?" Owen reached out and lightly touched her arm. "Panicking only makes things worse. I need you to take a deep breath?"

The young man looked back towards the case, looking it over. He didn't believe the ruse, as spirits pulled shit like this all the time. His attention turned back to the girl in the soft sweater. A deep blue eyed gazed into her misty expression. "Can you do that for me, Fiona?"
 
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The Dagger.jpeg Fiona was frantically looking around the room, but his hand on her arm and the calm even tone of his voice finally broke through. She looked into those eyes and grabbed onto his arms with both hands and held on tight as she took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. She did so three times actually, before she felt like she was at least partly under control again.

She finally swallowed hard and looked down at his arms, "Sorry," she said as she released his arms, and realized just how tightly she had been squeezing them, "I promise I'm not usually the type of woman who is given to fits of hysteria. In fact I can't ever recall a ti.." She saw that glint again and she was behind him then. "Ooohhh..." Her hands were back on his arms but now she was standing behind him, "Maybe we should get out of here..." she said as she pulled him back a bit closer toward the door, "I know that thing was pointing the other way in that box...I know it was..." Indeed it seemed like the dagger had changed positions in the box, and the blade which HAD been pointing away from the bed was now pointing toward it.

She pressed her forehead into his back and tried to get hold of herself. "Sorry..." she said as she moved to his side, though she still had a hold of his left arm with both hands. "I'm sure you've seen this kind of thing before but I...well this is all very new to me and ..." She glanced back at the box and she jumped a bit seeing the dagger blade now facing away from the bed once again. "I'm going to need a whole bottle of vodka after this." She said and then looked up at him with those wide green eyes, "Why is it doing that?" she asked, "It wants someone to touch it...doesn't it?"

Her eyes looked back and sure enough, the blade was facing toward the bed again. "That is really creeping me out...I'm just saying..."
 
It almost felt like an interpretive dance, how she was frantically grabbing, and almost flailing at the sight of the dagger. That even he can see it flipping back and forth. Until he knew what was making the knife move, the best he could do was contain it. He reached back, grabbing Fiona by the hips and pushing her back a little. "I need you to keep a safe distance, Fiona. I am going to try something."

Kneeling down, he popped his little box open and took out a cylinder of what looked like salt. Taking in a breath, he shut the door behind him. Hopefully, it would help her stay safe. He made an almost circle on the floor, with the salt. Moving quickly, he went over to the case, and tossed it into the circle. The glass crack and made a loud thud on the floor, before Owen finished the circle and took a step or two away.

Taking out a book, he started flipping through the pages.
 
Fiona was pushed back and watched as he made a circle of salt? She didn't know anything about the occult or how people exorcised something. Before she arrived ehre and saw that blasted dagger move, she didn't even believe in such things at all. Now she had been forced to alter her own thinking, because seing was believing.

He shut the door and she frowned. She pressed her ear to the door and tried to listen which was futile since the doors in this place were over six inches thick. She started pacing the hall with her arms wrapped around her waist, mentally willing him to come back out of that room.

Meanwhile inside the room, a shadowy figure rose from the shattered glass top of the dagger's box. It appeared to be a man, dressed in full armor with a dark beard and fiery red eyes. He had the dagger in its hand and started to move toward Owen, but was stopped and hissed when it reached the perimeter of the salt ring. Those red glowing eyes narrowed and bore into Owen and a cold sinister voice filled the room with its booming presence, "Ye willna stop The MacFarland!" it shouted and the force of it shook the windows. "Nay MacDonald weel survive meh revenge!"

The spirit attempted to stab at him again and again but each time a loud hiss would be heard as well as a burning smell filling the room as well.

Fiona was frantic out in the hall hearing the voice, "OWEN!" she called out and opened the door. She peeked in and saw the spirit of the armored man and gasped.

The spirit's eyes flew to Fiona, "Aeryendra,,,,"

Fiona's eyes were wide with fear and she shut the door quickly, "Owen get out of there!"

The spirit sank back into the box and the room stilled.
 
Thankfully, the spirit had a tight enough grasp on english that Owen understood what the hell he said. He pieced a thing or two together in his head, before the smell started to get onto his nostrils. As the spirit called out to Fiona, he looked sternly at her. Clearly, she doesn't know well enough to keep a door closed and follow some directions to keep her from getting murdered. Then she told him to get out of there and then closed the door. He grumbled to himself and made a quick exit into the hallway.

Running his hands over his chin, Owen sighed and looked her over. "Ok, first off, if a professional tells you to get out of a room, you listen. If I didn't already have it contained, who knows what would have happened. Don't do it again. This thing is out for blood. MacDonald blood. Your blood. Secondly, I need all the information you have on your ancestors and the history of this castle. I don't think this spirit is going to go away, even if I remove it from the dagger. This complicates things."

He slipped his hat off, revealing a shortened, brown haircut. A hand ran over the scalp, as he waited for some sort of response from Fiona.
 
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Fiona blinked, "OK! SORRY!" she said as she threw her arms up in the air and huffed a bit, "A week ago I didn't even believe this stuff existed! I heard a voice...I was scared..sue me!" She frowned a paced the hall a bit. This was seriously freaking her out. Ok..more than freaking her out.

He said he needed to know everything she knew. She moved past him and locked the door. "Probably doesn't matter, but it makes me feel better," she said. "I have the papers the lawyer gave me and I found the library...I haven't had a chance to really scope it out yet." she said honestly. She watched him raking his hand through his hair and pressed her lips together. "Sorry..." she said sincerely, "I promise I will never do that again. I didn't mean to upset you, or put myself in danger."

She reached over and put her hand on his arm, "Sorry...really." She let go and then headed toward the library and waved for him to follow her, "I think the library will be more helpful, but I'll get the lawyer papers too." she led him down a hall and through a large double door and down another hall which turned to the left and opened up into a large gallery. "This is where the old portraits hang," she said as they moved through the great hall. She didn't notice the one portrait that looked exactly like her, down to the freckles across the bridge of her nose. She opened the door to the right in the middle of the hall and stepped inside. There was a table in the middle of a large room. There were shelves full of books on every wall three storied high, with ladders that ran on metal rungs along each wall. There were also five free standing shelves that ran parallel to the far wall. She turned to her left and opened a large wooden bound book. She looked over toward the door to see if he'd followed...she was curious about the name the spirit had used, and wondered if she might find it in the registered geneology book there in the library.
 
The salt should hold for now, but they only had so much time. As anything from a wind or water can easily break the seal. He nodded as her hand left his arm. "I just would hate for something to happen, is all. In my line of work, losing people is a real possibility. The world would be a lot less pretty if you weren't around." He said, giving a smile and calming down a little bit.

As they both walked down the hallway, Owen took a back seat to Fiona's little mini tour of the MacDonald castle. Passing the old art, the young man could not help but chuckle silently. He would have to mention the one that looks just like her. Of course, that could have a connection as to why the spirit reacted to her the way it did. Perhaps they could use that to their advantage...or maybe that suggests that Fiona must play a bigger part than either of them realize.

The library was quite impressive, which means this was going to be a pain in the ass. Assuming this was even all organized, who knows what was even here to find. "Any chance we might find some sort of catalog of what we got here?" He said, looking over at the woman.
 
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