Part One: Hopes and Fears

As the sand shifts cool beneath your feet

By the light of a dead end moon

Your haunted fingers on my skin so sweet

Your hair the darkest loom

~from Dead End Moon by Kevin Max

Chapter 1

Paris, present day

Alisaunne shifted the torch so that she could clearly see the next paragraph. It was the gray-eyed, dark-haired, slender eighteen-year-old girl's turn to read aloud.

"Duncan MacLeod emerged from the tub of warm soapy water. Upon his wet skin, water droplets sparkled in the firelight. Roxanne's breath caught momentarily in her throat as she watched one particular droplet slide oozingly down the Highlander's bare chest to rest in the dark hair..."

"Ooooh... don't stop there Alisaunne..." Marisol squealed as the first girl began to giggle uncontrollably.

"I am sorry ma cher... it's just such bad, bad writing!"

"Who cares about the writing... I want to hear more of the description!" the honey-blonde Lisabet moaned... fanning herself as if in a great heat.

"All right... all right... just hush or Sister Margareta will hear us." Alisaunne tried to get her own giggles under control.

The three girls looked about the attic room fearfully and then re-settled to hear more readings from Alisaunne's latest pulp novel acquisition Blade of the MacLeods by Carolyn Marsh. The book was several years old and dog-eared... but that only meant it was well read. And... the girls had discovered... someone had hi-lighted some of the especially descriptive passages with a pink neon marker. They were in heaven.

If there is one thing teen-aged girls enjoy... it is reading about sex and romance. Blade of the MacLeods, with its painting of the near shirtless dark-haired Scot on the cover... definitely fit the bill. Alisaunne's unauthorized field trip to the used bookstore had certainly paid off this time.

"I wish I were Roxanne," Lisabet rolled over on her back and shivered in delight... kicking her heels against the floor in a slight drumming pattern.

"You wish there were any boy at Sacre' Couer who would pay you any mind cherie." The red-haired Marisol tickled her plump friend. Lisabet was her best friend... and while Marisol felt she could tease the girl unmercifully... she defended her against anyone else who even tried.

All three girls sat up suddenly as the attic room door slowly opened. The bespectacled face of fourteen year old Chloe peered around the edge of the door. "May I join you? Or perhaps I should let Sister Margareta know where you three hide out?"

"Chloe... you snitch!" Marisol hissed. "This is for seniors only! You are far too young!"

Chloe pushed her glasses up on her nose and simpered, "Then I suppose I shall just have to tell the good sister..."

Alisaunne interrupted her quickly, "Don't just stand there little one... close the door and come on in."

"But she's a first year!" Marisol pouted.

"May... be... but do you wish her to tell Sister Margareta?"

"No!" But Marisol was clearly unhappy. She rolled over on her back and folded her arms across her chest... a sure sign she was pouting. Marisol's father was an ambassador and she had always been petted and spoiled. She was accustomed to getting her own way.

Alisaunne grinned at the fourteen-year old Chloe who eagerly settled onto the floor with the older girls. Chloe was a charity student... one who had been granted a scholarship at the school because of her test scores. "You can read English... can you not?" When the girl nodded, Alisaunne handed her Blade of the MacLeods. "Then read aloud the hi-lighted passage on page 57."

Chloe looked over the passage and her eyes widened. Her small mouth opened and shut a few times without a sound emerging. As her face reddened... the three older girls snickered at her discomfort.

"Never mind... little one... but you can stay and listen." Alisaunne retrieved the book and the torch and began to read aloud once more.

***

Alisaunne rubbed her eyes and re-settled her backpack on her shoulders. From her vantage point... neither Marisol nor Lisabet looked too with it this morning either. The other four senior girls in the group had noticed the reddened eyes and lack of conversation at breakfast on the trio's part and had quickly covered for them. Sophie had indicated in the van that she fully expected to be included in whatever the trio were up to next time. Alisaunne had nodded... too tired to care. But Sophie was such a puritan!

Now... the seven girls stood in a small group at the museum and awaited their assignment. Sister Margareta handed out the question sheets.

"To be certain that each of you works alone on this assignment... I have made a different set of questions for each of you. There is no duplication. The answers will be found by careful reading of the exhibit information about the various collections. You have one hour to explore the exhibits... then you will meet back here. We will then compare notes and discuss what we have learned."

When Sister Margareta nodded, the seven girls quietly and quickly separated to begin their hunt for answers.

Alisaunne scanned through her questions... she already knew the answers to fourteen of the fifteen. Her uncle had insisted she have a thorough background in archeology and history. As she wandered through the halls on her way to the Celtic exhibit on the third floor... she absently wrote in the answers to the others. This was excellent! She could get the date she needed for the question about Celtic swords and then she could curl up behind one of the exhibits and take a nap for the next hour.

She glanced down at the information card... got the date and finished her questionnaire. Looking around to be certain no one else was near this exhibit...Alisaunne ducked behind the glass case of swords and settled herself on the floor. She leaned her head against the cool marble wall and closed her eyes... she definitely needed a brief nap.

Two male voices startled her into instant awareness.

"Our thanks, Duncan, for the donations to our collection. We are most fortunate to have you as a benefactor."

"Not at all, Claude, just remember to keep my name anonymous."

"Of course. No one will ever know that many of the items in this exhibit come from the personal collection of Duncan MacLeod."

Alisaunne's eyes widened as she heard the name. She leaned forward and peered through the glass of the exhibit case trying to get a look at the faces of the speakers. One of the men was short, stoop-shouldered, and in his fifties... the other might have leapt from the cover of the book still hidden in her backpack. Beneath his dark hair Alisaunne could see he was mid-thirties... perhaps... broad-shouldered... powerful looking. She wanted to pinch herself to see if she were dreaming.

When MacLeod, if that were truly his name, glanced toward the case behind which she was hiding... Alisaunne took in a swift breath and leaned once more against the wall, fearful that she would be noticed.

"Thanks again, Claude, for letting me pull this from the collection. I know I told you I had no need of any of these things... but..." MacLeod shrugged, "something's come up."

"It is not a problem, mon ami. And... you have more than made up for pulling one item by giving us three more. I wish all of our benefactors were so generous."

The two men continued into the outer corridor... their conversation too low and far away for Alisaunne to hear anything more.

Cautiously, she crept out of her hiding place and inched her way toward the corridor... eager to get a better look at this Duncan MacLeod. She peeked around the corner at the doorway and then pulled her head back once more.

"Are you still living on that barge down on the Quai de la Tournette?"

"For the time being. Give me a call... we'll do dinner one night while I'm in Paris."

When Alisaunne managed to peek around the doorway once more... the tall figure of Duncan MacLeod was descending the great marble staircase.

"A barge on the Quai de la Tournette," she whispered and quickly made a note of it inside the front cover of Blade of the MacLeods. She replaced the book in her backpack and headed for the second floor to find Marisol and Lisabet. Perhaps it was time for another of her unauthorized field trips.