Chapter 4
Shivvy McRae boarded a train to make the one hour trip from Edinburgh to her home near East Linton. She'd made this same trip countless times in her short life, but never with as much foreboding as she did now. Her mother had arranged for her to spend a couple of days at the Edinburgh Institute on her way home, and those two days had contributed greatly to her current mood. She had arrived from New York in the early evening, the portal dumping her out in front of the ancient Scottish Institute. As the sun slipped slowly below the horizon, the long shadows cast by the great, weathered stone church made it seem gloomy and forbidding. Memories, both good and bad, assailed her...
Edinburgh two days ago...
Shivvy had begun her shadowhunting training with her brother Ian and his parabatai Josh Cameron at the Edinburgh Institute. At that time it was being run by Josh's mother Maeve. The world had seemed an orderly place, filled with training, lessons and routine chores. Then Alec Lightwood arrived to investigate the murder of a downworlder, and nothing was ever the same again. The New York Shadowhunter had exposed the role of senior members of the Edinburgh Institute in the systematic persecution and hunting of downworlders. A battle ensued which saw the rogue shadowhunters defeated, and restitution made to downworlders who had suffered at their hands.
Maeve Cameron had been killed in the battle, and though she had been unaware of the illegal activities perpetrated on her watch, the family now bore the same disgrace as the Institute she'd managed. Shivvy's mother, once delighted that her son Ian was Josh Cameron's parabatai, now felt the sting of regret and the hearty wish she could do something to separate her son from that unfortunate connection. Shivvy felt regret for a completely different reason. She loved Josh like a brother and knew what a talented and honourable shadowhunter he was. Shivvy's regret stemmed from her knowledge that Josh and Ian were hopelessly in love with each other, and the Clave forbade that kind of relationship between parabatai. It was a secret Shivvy jealously guarded, knowing that a careless word would be enough to shatter two of the people she loved best in all the world.
Restless, and unsettled, Shivvy determined to walk up to the Castle before making her presence known at the Institute. Leaving her suitcase just inside the sanctuary, the girl set off at a brisk pace hoping to be in a better frame of mind before meeting the new head of the Institute, Gerard McKenzie. A short while later, she was walking the Royal Mile, just like any other New York tourist she thought with a grin. As the night deepened, the lights of the old town twinkled and the great castle was bathed in a warm golden glow. Someday, she would bring Daniel here and they would walk the Royal mile together.
As Shivvy neared the Gates of the Castle, a familiar site caught her eye, the Witches Well, a small cast iron drinking fountain and plaque commemorating the Scottish women who were burned at the stake as witches, hundreds of years ago. In her own time, the Witches Well had been the only way that downworlders could be guided to the safety of the secret underground. A sudden chill ran through Shivvy, and as she stared at the monument, a strange, ephemeral mist seemed to gather, swirling up from the ground in front of the fountain until it coalesced into the shape of a young woman.
Judging by her wild, matted brown hair and long, dirty drab dress, Shivvy guessed this was the ghost of one of the many poor women falsely accused of witchcraft all those years ago. A strong gift of second sight ran in the McRae family, so although not a common occurrence, the site of an appairition did not shock Shivvy as much as it might otherwise have done. "Who are you and why have you come to me;" she ask, her voice steady, betraying no sense of uneasiness.
"I am Gellie, Gellie Duncan;" The woman said in a soft reedy voice that Shivvy had to strain to hear. "I took many others with me to the pyre, men and women both. They were innocent! Innocent! It will come again, the hysteria..." The last bit dissolved into a strangle shriek as the apparition burst into flames and vanished.
"What on earth..." Shivvy muttered, wondering if the world was conspiring to make this the most unpleasant, unsettling visit to Edinburgh she'd ever had. And what did she have to do with ancient witch trials, the second site was supposed to be useful, bringing portents and messages, not dredging up irrelevant horrors from the past. Shaking her head slightly, Shivvy turned back, she had delayed her arrival at the Edinburgh Institute long enough, and she didn't suppose this day could get any worse.
~~~~~ ! ~~~~~
The Edinburgh Institute had changed considerably since Shivvy's time there. Gerard McKenzie, head of a prominent shadowhunter family, had replaced Maeve Cameron. He lived there with his only son, Addison who was about Shivvy's age. Gerard's wife, Lucy Addison McKenzie had died several years previously. It had been Gerard McKenzie's job to clean up the Edinburgh Institute and establish a reasonable relationship with the Edinburgh downworld. A tall, well built man in his early forties, McKenzie was dynamic, intelligent and politically savvy. He was also extremely handsome, with white blonde hair, high cheekbones, full lips and a firm chin. The only fault that could be found was a slight arrogance of expression, and a certain coldness in his blue-gray eyes.
Addison McKenzie was a whole different subject, slight, dark haired with delicate features, he seemed sullen and withdrawn. Shivvy tried for awhile to draw him out, but eventually gave it up as a lost cause. She didn't know what ticked her off most during their training session, Addison's continued rejection of her attempts to be friendly, or his holding back during combat exercises because she was a girl. Finally, totally frustrated, Shivvy stormed out of the room, pushing past the training master and not stopping until she found herself in what had at one time been the secret trophy room.
Shivvy didn't realize where she was at first, too annoyed and angry to take in her surroundings. The last time she'd been in this room, the walls had been lined with shelves and display cases containing gruesome trophies such as vampire fangs, warlock horns and wolf skins. Each item, represented a downworld life taken for sport and profit, and was flaunted as if it were a priceless treasure. The display cases had long since been removed, and the shelves were empty, but a chilly, sinister atmosphere still seemed to cling to the room as though an echo of its dark purpose remained. Shivering slightly the young shadowhunter was about to retreat back the way she'd come when something unexpected caught her eye. In a dark corner of the room, a flash of bright colour .
Shivvy bent down and picked up what appeared to be two playing cards. How odd she thought to find something of that sort here. When she turned the cards over, however, she saw that they were actually tarot cards. Her understanding of the tarot was very limited, but she knew the cards had been used by occultists and mystics for centuries as a means of divination. Shivvy wasn't sure she believed in the ability to predict the future based on a deck of playing cards.
The first card she picked up was the Lovers card and depicted a man and woman dressed in Victorian fashion. The Man stood behind the woman with his arms encircling her waist, but what stood out to Shivvy, was the fact that both faces were blank, devoid of features. The young shadowhunter reached down to pick up the second of the two cards, and saw that it was the Devil card. He was also dressed in Victorian clothes, and stood with a howling wolf on his right side, and a chained woman on his left. As with the first card, both the Devil and the woman's faces were blank.
Shivvy continued to stare at the cards in her hand, and slowly but surely the blank faces began to blur slightly and shift forming distinct features. The girl gave a startled gasp as the Lovers faces took the shape of herself and Daniel, and a horrified cry as the Devil's face solidified into a likeness of Gerard McKenzie, the chained woman on his left, another depiction of herself. Dropping the cards, as it they burned her hand, Shivvy ran toward the door, wanting nothing more than to get away from that haunted room, from things she could not understand, or explain. But, just as she was about to make good her exit, she stopped and took a deep, steadying breath. What would Ian say, if he saw her running away like a scared child, probably something insulting about her having vapours! With a renewed sense of purpose, Shivvy turned back and scooped up the cards, tucking them safely in her pocket. She would get to the bottom of things, if it was the last thing she did.
Glancing behind her as she sprinted down the hallway, she didn't see the tall, well built man in front of her until she ran right into him. "Huh;" Shivvy gasped as she stumbled backward, only avoiding the embarrassment of a complete collapse because of the strong arms that grabbed her shoulders.
"Noo jist haud on!"[1] Aidan Briosag' lapsed into Gaelic as his dancing, gray-green eyes looked into Shivvy's, and he held her at arm's length. If the warlock noticed the remnants of distress on her face, he made no comment, saying only; "You've grown into a bonny lass Shivvy McRae!"
"Aidan, I can't believe it!" Shivvy cried, forgetting her recent fear in the pleasure of meeting an old friend. Before she could say more, however, the cold, stern voice of Gerard McKenzie interrupted her.
"Shivaun! You should be in the training room, High Warlock Briosag and I have business to discuss!"
Aidan winked at Shivvy and whispered in her ear; " Meet me at six in front of the Institute and we'll go for dinner." She nodded her head in response and saw the warlock smile as he turned back toward his host.
"High Warlock Briosag, this way if you please;" McKenzie said brusquely and Shivvy thought she caught a flash of anger on the shadowhunter's face as he led his guest into a vacant conference room. Though things had improved greatly between the Edinburgh downworld and the shadowhunters, in the intervening years since Alec's visit, Shivvy doubted there would ever be true understanding and trust between them. Years of abuse could not be erased that easily.
[1] Noo jist haud on! Now just hold on, slow down, take your time in Gaelic.