On a ferry from Holyhead to Dublin, Nicole removed her belongings from Lex and dug through her saddlebag for the journals. The afternoon sun peeked through dense looming clouds that soon broke apart as they crossed the Irish Sea. She glanced over the journal's dates until she found one dated during the Spring of 1610. Robert was vague but seemed livid about a betrayal of Ward that resulted in him arresting twelve of his Revenants, seven of which were hanged the following day. From his knowledge, Ward and his father had agreed upon a treaty, which was inevitably broken. He was quite an emotional young man in his furious chicken scratches that covered the next few pages, repeating the names of his lost men. She flipped a few pages further where Robert mentioned Duke Carlo, noting that the Duke turned a blind eye to Ward's actions. There was a curious section that mentioned both of Earps' and Svane's grandfathers, a relationship that was extremely strained as being the first generation after Ulf's assassination but couldn't tell why he even wrote about it in the first place.
She closed the journal after a few more minutes of far too personal entries with his partner at the time. Instead, she pulled out King James' bible. It was useless to her as her family was Catholic, but finally, her military-issued copy came in handy. It took far too long, but she flipped through the pages to find each word to code, counting how many she passed while trying to stick to her rules, which proved more difficult than she imagined, but better to keep her secrets. After a half-hour of counting and coding, Nicole closed the book, sealing and signing the letter.
She began to strip off any article from the King or Duke's army, pulling on her brat to stay warm as she spotted the Irish clouds that shrouded the docks. Everything devolved so quickly, she wondered if her own actions were rational or if she was too impulsive, mostly when she struck Wynonna. Nicole closed her eyes for the final half-hour, catching a few moments of sleep on the ferry, maybe with a bit more rest, she could figure out her next move once she returned home.
Her erratic emotions raced through her dreams, fiery passion and hatred manifesting into a melting facade of the Earp manor. Once familiar hallways now turned and dropped off. Her name echoed all around her as she sprinted and friendly faces twisted into sinister glares. Her heart raced until it felt like it was going to explode in her chest. It wasn't until a familiar shriek made her stop in her tracks. Waverly was distraught in a distant corridor, yet no matter how far she searched, she couldn't find the source. Nicole tried the doors to no avail and panic soon overtook her brain, the maze crumbled and dimmed until she couldn't even see her hands. She screamed, suddenly waking from her nightmare.
The ferryman glanced down at her, bowing his head when he noticed the familiar garb. "We have arrived, Barún."
"Dame," she corrected. "Thank you."
Haught packed Lex and walked him down the dock, mounting him and finding her way through the busy port town. Nicole found the local courier shop to leave her letter, searching through the minuscule map behind the desk as she tried to recall the old path back home.
"A Royal Letter, we don't see many of those here," the old shopkeeper mentioned. "I can't promise it'll make its way to Purgatory by tonight, but it will be there before the week is up."
"Anything works for me, as long as it gets there."
He glanced at the map, "Is there anything else I can help you with?"
"Are any of the roads out from here to Castletown Geoghegan?"
He looked at the map and pondered the way, "As far as I know, no."
"Thank you, that will be all."
"Of course, Barún," he bowed.
Nicole nodded and went back to her steed, taking the long road home.
"She isn't coming back."
Waverly turned from her spot in the old ballroom. She quickly smoothed out her hair at the sound of her sister's voice. Not even twenty-four hours had passed and her sister had already given up hope. She had wagered the thought that Nicole wouldn't return but quickly reprimanded herself at the notion.
She stood up and approached her sister. "Why would you do this?"
"What do you mean?"
"Obviously something you did upset her enough to run away. What happened yesterday?"
"She dug herself into a grave of sorts."
"How?"
"It doesn't concern you."
"I doubt she'll forgive you for what you've done," Waverly mentioned. She shoulder-checked her sister on her way out, "I don't know if I can."
Her heart ached on her way to the room they had been sharing for the past five months. Cold memories froze over her muscles at the thought of no longer sleeping beside her or swapping novels in their spare time. A fresh wave of denial comforted her as she locked the door behind herself and approached the damned bookcase Nicole had shoved a note in. Her fingers shook for a moment before she retracted her hand and changed into her common clothes. Everything seemed too pristine, bathing in the midday light against the desk with Nicole she would now cherish until her return, but even the slightest thought of her ecstasy laced smile and war-torn skin was all too much for her to bear. She fumbled with the St. Michael necklace around her neck by tenderly caressing the relief before she finally left her room. Waverly just needed to clear her head after sitting in the ballroom for the past seven hours. The town was fiercely quiet compared to how she recalled it being only a day earlier.
Curious eyes leered through the shops and from the diverged lane the subjects made for her. Waverly ignored their hushed rumors and found her path to Shorty's where not even the common alcoholic dared enter today. Any local in the tavern avoided her, emptying out the old building within a few minutes. Waverly sat in the familiar corner as her usual was placed before her in barter for a few coins.
Time crawled at a horrifically deadly pace, waiting for anything to prove she was only dreaming and that Nicole would be there to hold her when she finally woke up, but the strong sting of alcohol proved her wrong. Dipping into her second drink, a set of eyes carefully watched her from the other corner. She wasn't sure how she initially missed them, but they leered over at her until she couldn't handle it anymore. Waverly sighed and approached the hidden figure, unfamiliar energy filling their aura until it became suffocating. She momentarily backed away from them but was soon drawn back into their entrancing stare.
"Who are you?" Waverly murmured.
"Take a chair and see how you fare," they rhymed in a slithering tone.
She furrowed her brows at their words, then repeated in a more forceful tone, "Who are you?"
"A free reading for the mistress of the tavern." The stranger shuffled the cards in their silence.
"Heretic cards."
"I insist, ten to find the end." They spread the cards before her. "You are currently in limbo, it doesn't take a genius to notice that much. I want you to repeat after me then choose the card that speaks to you most. This covers her." She mulled over her first card then pulled it out. "This crosses her." They continued this game until all ten cards were placed in a diamond, just a void in the center. The gypsy began to flip the cards over. "The Tower, this is the situation, sudden upheaval, disaster, broken pride. Your obstacle reversed Seven of Swords, this represents rethinking, honesty, but also deception. This crowns you, your influences, reversed Ten of Wands, this represents an inability to delegate, overstress. Your distant past, it's a stagnant card, reversed Five of Cups, finding peace and acceptance. This is your recent past, Ten of Swords."
"That looks like very bad luck," Waverly remarked at the card's depiction of a man stabbed with ten long swords.
"It is, failure and defeat," They continued, "This is the outcome with no intervention. Death."
"It really just gets worse, doesn't it?"
"With no help, yes. But Death isn't all bad. Reversed it means stagnation, holding on, fear of change."
"So possibly a change of the old guard?"
"Maybe. This is how you see yourself, reversed Ten of Cups, a broken family, shattered dreams. This is something you can use, conservation and security. Your hopes and fears, Judgement, reflection, or reckoning. Finally, the outcome if you choose to change your fate, Four of Wands, community, home, celebration."
"What does any of that mean?"
They let out a small sigh and read the cards again now in context with one another. "Your situation is in disarray, without direction, and deception stands before you, locking you from finding yourself again. You have something in your life which causes you to stop delegating and feel overstressed. Your past says that you are a forgiving person, recently, though, you've questioned yourself after failure or defeat. Death represents what is to come if you choose to ignore your issue, so it is negative." She gestured to the four cards by the cross. "The Staff tells me that you fear a day of reckoning within yourself, but by protecting yourself from outside forces, your outcome will be one of celebration and reconciliation."
Waverly rested in her seat and nodded. "Thank you for your words of wisdom. I will take them into consideration. So, now do you mind telling me who you are?"
"Just call me Katherine"
"Why are you here?"
"A friend sent for me."
"Please tell me you aren't a friend of Bulshar or Svane… or Stephanie."
"A much kinder connection," they chuckled, collecting the Tarot cards. "I'll leave you to your wallowing, Lady Earp."
Nicole trekked through the now unfamiliar route that she would tear through with her late brother Kyler, Finnian seldomly joining in on the fun. They were a menace to the Governess as she stopped chasing after her students when Nicole was old enough to find her way back home. Over five years later, she stood before the grand manor, it seemed so much smaller than she recalled, and finally building the courage to use the knocker. She heard it echo through the house before a servant answered. He looked unfamiliar, much younger than the one they had prior.
She pulled over her brat, to reveal the coat of arms, "Dame Nicole Haught."
He quickly bowed and opened the door wider for her, "Of course, madam. Shall I call upon the Ferrier to care for your companion?"
"Yes, please. Where might I find James?"
"The Barún is in the rose garden with the mistress of the house."
"Shall I bring your belongings to the first-floor guest room?"
"Yes, thank you."
Nicole removed her brat, draping it over her duffle as she kicked the dirt from her shoes. Old habits as she quietly stormed to the garden, caught off guard by the brash voice of her eldest brother calling down to her from the drawing-room. She stared up at him, deciding to satiate the beast before going to speak with her parents. Ascending the grand staircase shoved horribly to the corner by the old architect and followed him to the poorly lit room, even in the early afternoon.
"Would you care for some chaw?"
"Yes please, and any sweet you have on hand, as I know you do. You can search in your stash and if need be, I'll look away," she chuckled to herself.
Once settled, they sat in silence, staring one another down as they had in their youth. Dacien had become more heavily set since they last saw one another, but his weight seemed to drastically fluctuate throughout their childhood from various physicians' orders. She assumed he thought she had gotten herself into trouble again, which he wouldn't be all that far off in thinking. He finally broke the silence with a small smirk to himself.
"The prodigal daughter has returned. What brings you back home? You seem to rear your head at funerals, but last I checked, everyone is relatively healthy."
"I'm here about another matter. What do you know of Bulshar?"
"I was wondering if you'd ever ask about that."
"Bulshar's Bastard. See, the name has come up again and I am quite curious how you came upon that conclusion."
"About me being a prick as an adolescent? Despite my words, you seem to have come out on top compared to us all. Why do you feel the need to pursue that man?"
"I'm just curious about my true name."
"Why should that matter, we may not have shared the water of the womb, but we are family."
Nicole furrowed her brows at his cherry-picking. "I may not have been the most astute in lessons, but even I know that is not the true nature of the quote. You count neither in the blood of the covenant nor water of the womb."
"Your point being?"
"Tell me what you know."
"I know that you were found in the same vicinity of a Bulshar attack, but I don't know about how it happened out who you're connected to. Ask father about Saorise Kelly, she's the one who found you."
"She did, yes. What a fruitful conversation we had here, Dacien. I'll leave you to your- whatever you were doing." She peeked out of the window to scan for her father, spotting him approaching the house with his page. "Thank you for the chaw."
Without a word, she descended the staircase and made a B-line for the glass doors that led out. She caught James at the granite bench taking in the winter sun, quite surprised by her presence.
"Am I dreaming or are you really here?"
"I am standing before you on more than just a social call this time."
"While I would love for you to stay longer," he admitted, nonchalantly admitting, " as I can sense Dacien becoming restless, I am curious."
"How did you happen upon me?"
"Ms. Kelly happened upon you, actually," he noted.
"How? I'm not her daughter am I?"
"No, you are… old enough to know where you came from. I need you to take the small red box at the bottom of the chest in my office. You recall where that is, right?"
"In the left corner, right?"
"Yes."
Nicole went through the house, recalling the old path to his office whenever she found herself in trouble. Now no longer sulking, she rummaged through the chest until the red box surfaced. She quickly returned to James and awaited further information.
He peeled open the box with a deafening creak and produced a pendant. It turned and flipped in the wind reflecting a slightly tarnished coat of arms.
"Is this the clue?"
"Yes, your first one," he played along. "You were fleeing from Fearghail territory wearing this around your neck when Ms. Kelly found you." He let it spin around once more and set it in her hand, the reverse revealing a Celtic name. "Marcas Nioclás IV Ni Fearghail. When we asked for your name, you stated your title."
"Why didn't you give this to me earlier?"
"We were going to tell you but we soon found out that they had been assassinated, so we vowed to hide you until it was safe. You may not find much left of your home."
"Are you trying to steer me away from looking into my family?"
"No, I'm just letting you know that you are lucky to have survived. There's a memorial where the stronghold stood. Do you have a map on you?"
"In my room."
"Two furlongs north-east if you follow the road to South Annaly."
"Annaly? Really?"
"If you have any questions, I know that Ms. Kelly is still in town."
"Pardon the intrusion, but I have a letter for a Cesario?" the butler interrupted.
"I know no one by that name," James shrugged.
"I do," Nicole nodded, taking the letter from him.
"Already having your friends write here?"
"I knew I would be staying here for a moment, so it seemed only right to do so," she played with the letter for a moment then excused herself. "Thank you for the information and token." Nicole departed to the guest room, peeling the seal off and scanning it.
"Dear Cesario,
Do not come home.
Orsino"
"Oh my lord," Nicole tearfully choked out. She felt her heart sink to the bottom of her stomach before crumpling the paper and chucking it into the fireplace. "Oh my god," she seethed.
Finally, she sat on the edge of the bed and wept. She hadn't lost her partner, but she now could not trust her. Nicole tried to compose herself, failing miserably when she went to scan Robert's diary. She felt so far from home now. Castletown was no longer her home when she was sent away, the Pressman manor wasn't her home when she began her time in London, and she had lost her favour in Purgatory. Now, learning that her birthright was decimated made her suddenly sympathize with Robert.
This wasn't her home, not even her room, she didn't belong here and she needed to leave before she felt like she was stuck again. The last thing she needed was Dacian's iron fist looming over her head. Nicole took the remaining fragments of Waverly's letter from the fire, stamping it out to save. She looked to the ceiling as she knelt on the ground and began to recite the Lord's Prayer before reciting another to Saint Michael.
"Oh my sweet Waverly, please forgive my elusiveness and trust that I will return."
Nicole placed the letter in her satchel and began her trek on foot to Southern Annaly, back home, as it were to seem.
Practically a half-day's travel walking, Nicole came upon a high hill that housed the humble remains of a royal family long since deposed. She could hardly believe how completely decimated the stronghold was. Wooden walls that guarded the family had been burned and decayed since the event. Any wooden structure was a crumbled mess of charcoal and personal belongings. Nicole trod up the hill, climbing over a fallen portion of the wall that had been the back of a stable. It was quite eerie, what had been left of the O Fearghail stronghold. She ascended the road, warily glancing around the area at the slightest sound until she came upon the main brick and stone building. The doors had been torn off and caved into the entry hall. Everything about her childhood was blocked off, even though she was five at the time she fled. Nothing about the remains seemed familiar, not even the tapestries of her family. She meandered the hallway until she happened upon the burned herald of the Fearghail clan. The only recognizable part left was the bold green and shimmering gold thread that remained.
Finally, in the grand hall, she found a low-lit room decorated with offerings and mementos from followers and members of the old Celtic families. She knelt at the faux altar that covered what must have been her father's chair, taking in the pagan alms. Momentarily, she wondered how it must have been to live in this family, but pushed away from the notion and dreams of living with people she couldn't even recall.
That was enough for her, there was no need to dwell on a false past, so she consulted the diaries for any new information. She went through her satchel out on the crumbled path of the stronghold and delved into the latest exploits.
Scouring the pages of his journal, Nicole found the first possible hideout of Bulshar, but considering the date, there was no way they were still there. She had been told Isle of Mann, but she needed to know more about how Bulshar's cult worked if she wanted to study them. It infuriated her, how little incriminating evidence she found against the Earps. It was nearly impossible to discern the Elders' fear. She flipped forward a few years and found another bread crumb that might have been of use had it not been completely unintelligible. From the legible portions, Robert described a peninsula north of Dundalk, but everything else seemed like a bizarre code.
Nicole closed the book and began the long trek to the Castletown manor.
"What does this mean?" Wynonna inquired at the translated note her sister gave her. "Orsino and Cesario"
"It's just a story we read. What do I say?"
"Nothing. She cannot return and I can't have you leaving either. We have a job to perform until further notice," she reminded with a nod to their citizens. "You seem tense."
"Am I not supposed to be tense after you drove my partner out even when she helped rescue you?"
"I see. Do what you wish with her letter, just please do not let the others know she has contacted you."
"I should be requesting that of you."
Wynonna nodded politely, then left her sister to her own thoughts. "Please, just don't do anything rash."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Waverly quickly penned a letter then went to find John Henry. She still didn't have any idea who the person at the bar was and helping her sister wasn't at the top of her list. Holliday was still residing in the old cabin now with a new occupant by the looks of it. She rapped on the door, soon greeted by the mysterious figure she had met at Shorty's inn.
"You again," Earp nodded.
"You again," they repeated.
"So this is the kinder connection we share?" She earned a nod in response.
"I do not own this plot, but may I invite you in for chai?"
"Why not. What do you take with your drink?"
They let her pass then began to boil water. "Two sugar cubes and a healthy portion of jenever."
"Sounds like a drink my sister would enjoy."
"What brings you here, if I may ask."
"I was hoping to speak with John, but I can see that he may be busy. Who are you?"
"Told you, call me Katherine."
"I can tell by the fashion of your accent you come from the East. From your clothes, I know you must come from some wealth and you still have a signet ring."
"Good eye, young Earp."
"Lady Earp, until I know where you come from."
"What a hard bargain," she sarcastically remarked, pouring out a cup for them both. "John went out trapping, but I assume he will return quite shortly."
The door swung open, Holliday triumphantly producing two hares. "Lady Waverly. How are you? I see you've met Kate."
"Second meeting," she confirmed to her roommate. "I should be leaving. There's come chai on the stove."
"Where are you off to?"
"I'm thinking of paying the older one a visit."
Without a moment to protest, Kate escaped out of the house. Holliday sat across from her, the hares now hung outside to bleed.
"I'm hoping that you can help me with Nicole's departure. She went to visit you not long before fleeing. What did you talk about?"
"Now, I cannot divulge that kind of information to you, nor your sister."
"But you told my partner."
"She had a key, but I cannot say more than she needed help."
"With finding Bulshar." She was answered with silence as her confirmation. Waverly produced the translation she was to her partner's letter. "Tell me what you know."
"What even is this? Cesario and Orsino… and James?"
"Don't worry about that part. This here, though. 'Darkness in home. Judah sister, aunt. Trust me'," she recited. "What does she mean? Why was she exiled? Do not bullshit me, Holliday."
"I cannot say. In all honesty, I do not know what she was after, nor how she plans to go about it, but if I were you, I would be careful with whom you share. She's obviously trying to give you, and you alone a message. Who knows about this?"
"Wyn. She gave it to me."
"You need to get your sister off your trail. Give her a letter to send and write another you mean to send to Dame Haught."
"Who do I give it to, you?"
"Heavens no! Someone outside of our community whom you trust to keep your letters safe."
"Who can I trust," she murmured to no aid, then finished off her drink. "Thank you for the help and chaw… chai?"
"My sellers called it chai."
"Chai, I like that better. So, how did you meet Kate?"
"Am I not allowed to hold onto a speck of elusiveness?"
"I guess we all have a right to that as of recently."
Nicole finally returned to the house nearly dark, only sparse lights around the manor to serve as a beacon. She rapped on the door, their butler letting her through again with another letter from her dear Orsino. She briefly thanked him then hid away in her room to read the second message. With a blunt knife she tore through the letter, relieved to find their code scrawled across the paper. She went through the bible and translated the words.
"Who is a God like you, who pardons sin and forgives the transgression of the remnant of his inheritance? You do not stay angry forever but delight to show mercy. Where Satan and Cain. Found Sanctuary? Home?"
She quickly explained, "N. Dundalk. Not for long, I will leave. Wait to write. Proverbs 23:13" Nicole sealed the letter then packed for her trip to Bulshar's possible hideout.