The Dagger

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She made an odd face, "Salt...like table salt?" she asked, "Huh...who would ahve believed it?' she asked, and then let out a soft chuckle, "Who would believe ANY of this?" she shook her head a bit, "Obviously I hired the right man for the job though....thank you." He said the world would be less pretty without her in it and she blushed deep red, "Um...thanks...that's sweet but I know I'm a freak of nature." She said it flatly and without much emotion because it was her honest opinion of her freckles, red hair and nearly ghostly complexion. She had spent her entire life comparing herself to her mother, who was a striking brunette with sky blue eyes that could be seen from across a room. The contrast between the light color of her eyes and the dark, nearly black color of her hair was what garnered her mother the most compliments. It also won her the Miss Connecticut title when she was nineteen. Those were some pretty illustrious things to attempt to live up to. She'd stopped trying when she was about fifteen, and focused on her studies.

She looked over at him when he asked his question and she pressed her lips together as she thought. She had seen something, but where? She left the genealogy book open and moved across the room to where the shelves were free standing along the far wall like little soldiers guarding the place. there was a cabinet there with little drawers and she smiled over her shoulder at him, "We may be in luck..." she said sliding one open and seeing it crammed with index cards, "If you know what you're looking for that is.." She motioned back to where she'd been standing, "That big wood bound tome over there is the family genealogy. I am wondering about that name the...whatever that was used...That seems important...doesn't it?" she asked tentatively. "Not that I am trying to tell you how to do your job, but that was weird..."

She didn't want to say it out loud, but it seemed like that thing recognized her somehow. Like it knew her, and that made this whole thing a whole lot more creepy to her. She was thinking about that when her phone rang and about had her jumping out of her skin. She pulled her phone from her back pocket and looked at the display and groaned when she saw it was her father. "She looked at him, "excuse me," she said, "It's my father and if I don't answer there will be a swat team here in half an hour." She rolled her eyes and slide the bar across the smart phone's face.

"Hello daddy," she said in a very fake sounding overly cheerful voice.

"Right," the deep voice on the other end replied, "Do I need to come over there?'

"No..no no no...." she said swiftly, "Not at all. How are you? How's Mom? did you get to the opening of the symphony?"

"Young lady," he said sternly, "Did you do what we asked? Did you hire people?"

"Yes I did," she said with a slightly exasperated sigh, "I hired a chef, a stable master, a maid and an exorcist." She'd left Owen for last because to her, he was the oddest sounding hire of the group. "I haven't had any replies for the gardener position or the butler..."

"So you aren't there alone," he said and she could see the nod he gave even from across the ocean. Her father was very set in his ways and once he said something ought to be done, he expected people to do it. "So then....what seems to be the problem? Why are you acting so strangely?"

"I don't know what you mean daddy..."

"Don't give me that Fiona Grace MacDonald," he said in a short accentuated manner, "Youa re wound about as tight as an old watch."

She glanced over at Owen and sighed, "Fine..fine.." She sighed, "The exorcist is here."

"Really?' he asked sounding slightly amused, "And what did the old priest say? Do you need to vacate the place before your head spins in circles?"

"Not funny," she said making a face, "He very likely just saved my life...so be nice."

"Saved your.." He couldn't even continue speaking, "We are coming tonight."

"No daddy that's not..."

"Uh..not another word. Your mother and I will be there tomorrow sometime."

Hearing the tone in his voice and the steel she closed her eyes and her hand went to her hip. "Very well." was all she managed before he hung up on her. Her hand fell to her side and she could not contain the groan that seemed to be born of a lifetime of frustration. Her free hand lifted to rub over her brow and she turned to face Owen then, "Well..my parents are on the way." She said looking and sounding a bit less than joyous about the event.

"I apologize in advance." She moved back over tho the genealogy book and started looking for the name Aeryendra. "There can't possibly be more than one in here," she muttered to herself, "How would you think that was spelled?" she asked. " A I R I E N D R A?" she shrugged, "Maybe not though...hmm..my linguistics training should help but it's not. Too bad genealogies aren't alphabetized."

@Cerulean
 
He really wanted to counter with something sweet, but didn't want to push too hard. And he didn't want to risk seeming unprofessional either. So he bit his tongue and just gave a shake of the head.

As Fiona grew more inquisitive and took some initiative in this investigation, it took some pressure off of Owen's shoulders. Granted, he can handle this on his own, BUT he is on his own out here. An ally or just support in general is a huge help. If she didn't have a brain in her head, he might be at this for hours. This might save them both a ton of work. "Oh no, you are on the right track. If we can find the importance of that name, we might have our ticket to get this thing taken care of." He said, waving her concerns off of bossing him too much.

As she went to answer her phone, Owen nodded and gave her a little bit of space. Opening his little toolbox, they young man took out a book and began flipping through it. He was trying to identify what kind of spirit or haunt that one could be. It seemed centered on revenge and it was attached to the knife. Was that knife also important in some way? Very likely, but with the way it acted it seemed that Fiona had such an effect just from the sight of her. Thinking back to the painting, he wondered if said revenge had to do with lov--

Fiona's words yanked him out of his head and back to the present.

"Your what? They do know what is going on here right?" He shook his head disappointedly. "I guess I can explain why they are really you should probably stay away. It's really not safe."
 
If he had said something sweet she would have blown that off as just being polite as well. She was perfectly at home in her own skin, but she lived with a beauty queen as a mother, and every boyfriend she'd ever had remarked to her how hot her mother was. If she could write a self help book for me, that would be one of things she'd include in the chapter entitled 'Never say this'. She was also confident in her intelligence and resourcefulness. So when he said she was on the right track, she took that as a compliment and smiled a bright smile at him. "Oh GOOD!" she said.

After the short conversation with her parents she nodded to every one of his comments. "Oh They definitely know. They tried to talk me out of coming, and out of accepting, and insisted I hire a bunch of staff presumably so they would die first and scare me off." She was now pacing and her hands were moving like she was conducting a symphony orchestra or something. Her father made her this crazy, and even though she was a grown woman now, she could not seem to make it stop. That fact was the most annoying part of the whole thing. "Maybe they won't want to stay here?" she said tentatively, "I mean....they were set to inherit before I was obviously. I on the other hand have nowhere else to go." She blinked suddenly and stopped pacing. "You...you weren't planning to leave me here alone?....were you?"

She moved to where he was and again she put her hand on his arm, apparently she was a touchy feely type. "There are 9 bedrooms here...you can have the great big one...or the remodeled one...or any one of them you want..." Her eyes were looking into his and though she wasn't saying it with words, she was begging him to stay with her eyes. "They all ahve new mattresses..." She added hopefully, "And really nice linens...high thread count...very comfy...."
 
Her smile made him feel good. He guessed that letting her sort of do her own thing was more effective than trying to reign her in than anything else. This girl seemed like a bronco that you wouldn't get a saddle on, even if she were sleeping. Admittedly, he liked that. Something about a woman who can fight her own battle and stand beside you was rather alluring. He didn't think in just in the sense of between them. He actually sees a little potential in a partner, if Owen shows her the ropes. The man shrugged until she spoke again.

It seemed her parents were smarter than they even realized by passing up the castle, but now it fell to them to try and fix this. With their impending arrival, it may only make things worse. When Fiona asked if he were going to leave, he blinked and had an expression of "You nuts?" And then she went into trying to sell the place to him, with all the beds. Owen couldn't help it, he chuckled.

"No, of course not. You hired me to get rid of this thing so that's what I am going to do. But I will take that big one though."

His next thought was a little embarrassing, but it was from a place of wanting to protective.

"If the bed is big enough, we could probably both use it. Wouldn't be too good have us to far away. I could put up defense easier that way."
 
Fiona let out a rush of air when he said of course not. Her grip on his arm tightened for a minute as she smiled again, "Oh thank you!' she said, "I know I'm paying you but I wouldn't blame you if you took off running after dealing with that thing face to face. You really are very brave."

He said he'd take the big bed and she nodded, "Done!"

And THEN he said they should both stay there and she gave that a bit of thought, like half a second, before nodding, "Absolutely," she said in agreement. "After the way that thing looked at me I will feel much safer with you and whatever protection you can create. I have complete faith in your ability."

THAT she would not be mentioning to her parents, and most especially to her father. She trusted Owen with her life, in regard to the spirit and the dagger, and she thought he was cute and adorable. She liked his eyes and his smile, so sharing the bed wouldn't be a weird thing. At least the idea of it wasn't weirding her out. Now when the time came to actually get into the bed she'd probably be a bit awkward, but hopefully not.

She saw his book and she peeked at it, "How can I help?" she asked, "Should I just go see if I can find her name in the genealogy? I can't believe there would be more than one...I've never heard that name before have you?"
 
Owen nodded and smiled, in response to her kind words. "To be fair, I deal with this kind of stuff all the time. It comes with the territory, but I thank you nonetheless." Glad she was a gal who knew a good exorcist when she seen one. Of course, that all might be coincidence. Still, it worked out for her in the end when the spirit is extinguished and the knife destroyed.

When she began to speak again, he blinked at the page and looked up at her. "Uh, actually yeah. That's a good idea. Anything you can find involving that name, events, any of that should help." He smiled, and gave a hopefully encouraging pat on Fiona's shoulder. "Go get em tiger." He said chuckling and getting back to his own book.

With the two of them, the research time should be cut down by significant amount.
 
Fiona returned the smile, "Be that as it may," she replied, "That was a very angry and violent what it was," she said, "And you were very brave. I cannot believe such things ever become easy to deal with, even with experience." She pressed her lips together and frowned, "Did I remember to say thank you?' she asked, "For saving my life? For even CARING about saving my life?" she asked, "If not...thank you."

He said she should and she was so glad to hear that she could help, that her face was almost glowing with excitement. "I will do my best," she said with a salute, "I am actually quite a good researcher. Speech Pathology calls for a lot of it."

She left him to look at whatever he was looking at in his book and returned to the thick tome that was the family genealogy. She went back to the first entries and began reading the additions. She went through about 20 pages of names before she saw the name. "HEY!" she said in a very excited voice, "I think I found it! Do you suppose it could ahve been spelled A E R Y E N D R A?" she asked looking at it more closely and jotting down the year of her birth and wait a minute, "Oh my...This records her as having been born June 11, 1562 and has her death at June 11, 1588. She was...26..." She furrowed her brow and looked over at him. "She and I have the same birthday..." she said in a slightly shakey voice, "And this records that she was married, with twin sons. They were murdered, all three by her father's brother Fergus." She scanned for the husband's name, "Her husband's name was Lord Bradley Owens." she blinked. "Um...do you hear the twilight zone theme music yet?" she asked as she jotted that down as well. She bit her lip almost afraid to ask, "When is your birthday?"
 
He just shook his head and smiled before diving back into his reference journal. The young woman was gracious in her acknowledgment of him, thus he would say nothing if it made her feel better. To be perfectly honest, he didn't know exactly what speech pathology was. But, if it helped her research, who was he to complain?

The sudden sound of her voice startled him and he looked like a deer in headlights. When Fiona began firing off the information that she had, the connections she was making made a whole truck full of sense. With the effect she had on the spirit, and the age and birthday matching up, her connection to this was deepening.

Of course, when she started going on about his possible connection, he grew skeptical. Owen didn't know or have any association with this place. "May 2, 1991, but I am sure it is just a coincidence for me. Owen isn't that uncommon of a name." He came over and started to look over what she was reading, and casually put a hand on her shoulder.
 
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Fiona heard him say his birthday and she pointed in the book. The page was beautifully inulstrated with an intricate tree motif and gold rimmed boxes for each name. Each name had a date of birth adn death along with all pertinent information about both occurrences. Her finger rested by the entry for the husband's birth. He would see that Bradley's birth was May 2, 1561. "This cannot be coincidence," she said in a slightly shaky voice. "Maybe we are the two meant to bring this all to an end," she said warming to the idea. She looked up at him and her green eyes were filled with wonder, terror, and curiosity. She wasn't sure which should, or would take control but she felt them all. She leaned a bit into that hand on her shoulder, needing the bit of support and presence.

She looked at the page a bit more, trying to see if anything else stood out to her. "Maybe there is a book here somewhere that would tell about this uncle? Why would he kill his niece and her children? Who was this husband?" She bit her lip and lowered her head a bit, "Sorry...I get a little over excited about solving puzzles and ...well...I didn't mean to over-step. What should we do now? Or do you seee something I missed there?"
 
He squinted at the date. It was the right month and day, at least. He could feel them both switching chairs. Those seat being labeled the skeptic and the believer. "Fated or not, we are going to put this thing to rest. Preferably, without anymore fatalities." He said, looking right back into her mixed gaze.

His hand slid a little, moving more to her back. She felt toned, but still had that unique feminine softness they all seemed to have. Owen didn't quite understand how they managed to do it, but what he did manage was to stop looking at his hand long enough to hear her 100mph train of thought.

"Oh no, you are a natural. Trying to find more info on this ghost's history might be all the difference."

Without meaning to, he leaned into her back. Owen moved his journal next to her book. "I think he is some kind of revenge spirit. Not sure what kind, but we can find that out when we go back in."
 
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Fiona smiled at his confidence, and it gave her an extra measure of courage as well. She offered him a dazzling smile, "Thank you," she said, "I would be a terrified crazy person if you weren't here." Not that she hadn't had a few meltdowns since his arrival, but she was feeling much more comfortable with the entire situation, and with the probability of it being resolved without anyone dying. That was her top priority, no more death.

She felt his hand move on her back, but she didn't give it any more thought than that, however she leaned more against his side. Something about his solid presence was comforting to her. He said he felt like this was a revenge spirit and she had to agree. "I think it's Bradley Owens actually..." she said and then blinked and looked up at him with wide eyes, "GO back in?" she asked, "But...wait...we are going to finish searching for more information aren't we?' she asked, "There has to be a book in here about this murdering uncle..."

The second she had the words out a thud was heard and she jumped and had a tight hold to his waist with both arms and her face was buried in his chest. "What was that?" she whispered afraid to look around for fear she'd see something.
 
"Oh I think you would find a way, or at least get out before something happened." He said, right before she leaned into him. That was not what he expected, at all. Her feminine aura and smile almost had him wrapped around her finger. See, this is how people get feelings for eachother. Feelings were not what this situation needed right now. Sure, it had been a while since he was in a real relationship but that comes with the job. Everyone either runs or dies. Unfortunately, it was never him.

As he was grabbed, and had a pretty face buried into his chest, Owen sort of petted her hair. "It's okay, it's probably just one of your workers." He gently pulled out of her death grip and went over to the door. "Yeah, who is it?" He said, beginning to open the door.
 
Fiona reluctantly let go but then heard another thud, and realized it was coming from the book stacks. "Owen," she whispered but it was a LOUD whisper, "It's...over there..." she said pointing at the book shelves. She saw an odd glow of light coming from the end of the far book stack and then if faded. She frowned and then took a tentative step in that direction, but then stopped and looked at him. He was in charge, and she didn't want to make him mad at her again for going where she shouldn't.

"Did you hear that?" she asked, "And did you see that bluish green glow?" She was still whispering but it was the kind of whisper a two year old would use, that you can hear across a room full of people. She saw the glow again and heard another thud and she was back at his side holding onto his arm with both hands. "Someone...or something wants us to go back there...I think..."
 
Sighing, he nodded, feeling like a doofus that he thought it was outside the door. At least Fiona didn't bag on him for it, for now. Now, however, the young woman was clinging to him again. "Alright, just stay calm. Lets check it out."

He reached for a large book, no idea what it was, but it was heavy and offered it to Fiona. "Here, use it if you have to." Owen, himself, pulled out a knife with some different runic signals on it.

Stepping closer, the young man made to try and see what was going on behind the bookcase. His cautious walk brought him back to where the light was coming from. What he seen made him blink.
 
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Behind the bookcase was a glowing almost angelic figure. Her appearance was calm and serene and her face held a soft smile. She did not move, but merely observed. There was a tender look in her eyes as she beheld Owen, almost like she knew him. Finally, seeing he was not going to advance on her with the knife, she pointed to the books on the floor.

Fiona was close behind him, not willing to stay over in the other part of the room alone and when she saw the woman she blinked. The face was familiar, and she felt as if she was looking at herself in a mirror, albeit a mirror that was slightly foggy. The figure seemed a bit confused for a moment as she beheld Fiona but then it seemed recognition dawned and her countenance became softer. "Aeriyendra?" She asked and was gifted with a smile and a nod. "Oh dear," was all she could manage. No wonder that ghost had reacted to her as it had.

She noticed the books the ghost was pointing to and knelt to pick them up. "We need all of these?" she asked looking at her ancestor and talking to her like she'd been talking to ghosts all her life, and it was just a totally natural thing. She looked at Owen, "It's ok to talk to her right?" she asked realizing at that moment she should have asked him first.
 
When it turned out to be a benevolent spirit, he straightened up. She could very well be an angel but spirits were tricky things sometimes. Best not look a gift horse in the mouth. As Fiona spoke to Aeriyendra, he put the knife away and returned the smile.

"She seems to be on our side, Fiona. Anything you want to ask, you can probably get some sort of answer." Owen looked them both over, not all that surprised considering the circumstances, but it was his somehow direct involvement in the matter that had him on edge.

"Do you know how to defeat the angry spirit, Aeriyendra?"
 
The ghost hovered before them and nodded to Fiona's question about the books. Fiona gathered them up and then looked at her again, "Are there more we need?" she asked hoping to just be able to grab them from the shelf now. She thought maybe Aeriyendra had plopped to the floor to get their attention, and not to harm the books.

Owen said the ghost was on their side and she had to agree. Owen said to ask questions so she figured what the heck, might as well. "Is that angry spirit your Husband Lord Bradley Owens?" she asked. There was a hard glare but a nod. "Sorry, he's been killing people for a long time. That kind of means angry to me." She explained. "So...he's angry because you were murdered...right?" Again another nod.

Owen asked his question and this time there was no nod but a shake of the head back and forth and a holding out of her hands in frustration. Fiona could feel the woman's sorrow and regret as if it were her own, "But these books will help us figure it out?" she asked. The spirit seemed to be uncertain how to answer and in the end just shrugged. "They will help us uncover the truth then." To this the spirit did nod and then with a smile faded away into a chair in the corner.

She looked at Owen and moved closer to him so he could see the titles of the books as well. "A History of Clan MacDonald, A Murder Most tragic, Hidden Secrets of Castle MacDonald...hmm..." She looked up at him, "Which one do you want to read?' she asked with slight smile. "I think we need to know the whole truth before we can...before you can figure out how to send Bradley Owens on his way to the great beyond. Maybe that will free Aeriyendra as well?"
 
It was a blessing that the benevolent spirit was helping them, so Owen did not even think to question her judgment. He smiled at her and bowed slightly. It seemed polite and probably customary given what time she was from. When Fiona came over with the books, he smiled and looked at them. Trying to be professional, he grabbed the first choice.

"Don't get too polite, you might be just as pivotal as anything else around this place." He said, laughing and opening the book.

The next couple of hours were surprisingly relaxing for the two of them. They were just reading and exchanging random glances and smiles. Owen was taking notes while he read, to make sure he didn't miss anything or forget. He began chuckling and pointed to a spot in the book.

"Apparently, Mr. Murderface down the hall once ran naked around the castle to prove he was not scared of committing to your ancestor."
 
Fiona Huffed at him, "I cannot possibly be any more important that finding the truth. I think once we do, we can find a way to make this whole thing right, and free everyone." She looked at him then. her eyes were almost pleading, "I hope we can help everyone be free. We don't ahve to destroy anyone do we?"

She had chosen the book about the murder, hoping it would have the details of the murder within it. However, it was a work of fiction, based on the tales and legends of the castle and the mysteries and cover up that took place. She tipped her head and did make a few notes as she scanned the pages, but she was setting it aside when Owen started laughing. "I bet he was once a nice man," she said, "Aeriyendra liked him well enough, and still does apparently. "

She set the book she'd been looking at aside and picked up the Hidden Mysteries of the castle book. The first thing she noticed was a map of the grounds, but it was a very OLD map and things were not exactly as she knew them today. "Hey look..." she said, "That room where he was...it was their bedroom....no wonder he doesn't like anyone being in there." She blinked and grabbed up the other book and rifled through the pages. "Oh dear..." she said, "If this guy is right..." She pointed to the books description of how they believed the murders happened. "He says that Aeriyendra and her child were killed in that room...her uncle tried to force her and the little boy tried to stop him, so he turned and stabbed the knife he had been using to force Aeriyendra into doing as he wanted. When he did she dove on him and fought but he pushed her off and when he turned she dove on him again and the knife went right into her heart. "

She looked up at him then, "I would haunt that room too, were I in Lord Bradley's shoes. He is trying to punish us for something...maybe the uncle never paid for his crimes...??" She frowned, "We need to find out what happened tot he uncle." She bit her lip then, "Um..that is if you think so...I'm so sorry. I am getting WAY ahead of things. You are the expert."
 
He waited a moment before answering, hoping that he doesn't come across as too harsh.

"Anything we destroy would either already be lifeless or so long dead that it would be doing them a favor. If it needs to be done, we can't let it keep us from doing the right thing. So be prepared for anything, Fiona."

As she read over the description and stopped herself, he only shook his head.

"Unless it is vital, I am not sure we need to figure out what happened to the uncle. We just need to figure out how to break the curse. If it comes to that, then sure, but I don't want to lose time researching things that might not be necessary to the here and now you know?" He tried to smile, hoping it didn't make him sound like a jerk. He felt bad, having to stifle her energy a bit.

"Not that your enthusiasm isn't more than welcome, of course."
 
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