Saoirse Read online

  “I was not going to leave.”

  The Spanish frowned, and sat up after releasing her. He walked to the exit and stopped at the threshold of the cave. Saoirse saw how he watched the sea in silence. Afterward, he shook his head and turned suddenly. His expression reflected so much anguish that her heart sank.

  “I want to tell you something, Saoirse, and ask you one last favour. But I do not even know if I have the right to do it”.

  “I will listen to what you want to tell me.” She answered calmly.

  Jon pierced her with his onyx eyes and sat in front of her.

  “We left from La Coruña in July, in a whaleboat of nine hundred and forty-five tons, with almost three hundred people on board. We had suffered serious damage in the Channel and had to return to port. The storm chased us from the beginning like a pack of wolves,” he said, pursing his lips.

  “Go on, please,” Saoirse asked him.

  “It took more than six hours to replace the mainmast, and we set sail for the British Isles only to be dragged by devil winds and strong currents. We tried to return to Spain, but were pushed to the west. We skirt the Irish coast from north to south, with great difficulties. Finally, we find refuge in the Blasket Sound. You already knew that.” Jon laughed reluctantly. “My ship will not come back, Saoirse.”

  “How can you be so sure?” She asked with a lump in her throat.

  “Because it is split in half, sunk three miles from this beach. Nobody managed to survive, and I did not either.”

  Saoirse felt that everything was spinning around her.

  “That is not possible,” she rebelled. “You are here, next to me. I can touch you, I can feel you.” She took his hand and entwined it with her fingers. “This is real, not a damn dream.”

  “My ship was called Santa Maria de La Rosa, and it was armed with twenty-six cannons fused in Genoa. I am not a sailor, but a soldier. I have courted death since I was a child, until it finally took my life the twenty-first of September of the year of Our Lord 1588. His Catholic Majesty, Philip II, sent us to fight against the English, but I was not struck down by a sword or a musket. I arrived dying and was caught in an eternal wait in this dark cave, reliving day after day like a nightmare.

  “It is not possible ..." Saoirse repeated. “You can’t have been dead for more than four hundred years dead. You cannot be dead!”

  “Only you can see me. You and that diabolical spectre that showed me the truth.”

  “O'Balor. I brought it to you.”

  “I do not care.” Jon kissed her knuckles. “You heard my call and came to me. I have a lot to thank you for.”

  “What was that favour?” She asked.

  “My poor bones are piled at the back of the cave. If you could have them buried in sacred, I believe that no evil will return to torment me.”

  “I will, I promise.”

  “Do not make promises you cannot keep, little one.”

  Saoirse saw his tall silhouette, terrible and resplendent in the moonlight.

  “Angus ... You disappeared and I could not find you.”

  “I had to let you understand for yourself. That you both understood.”

  Nothing made sense. She looked for Jon's reassuring look. He hugged her and spoke softly.

  “You can come with me, my angel, I've waited too long for you.”

  Suddenly she understood. The sensation of the wind on her face, the immense happiness of escaping from her crippled and sick body at nightfall, leaving the prison of her wheelchair and going out the window to defend others who did not dare to jump into the void .

  “When did I die? She asked serenely to the golden-haired god.

  “It was a year ago. There was a rail accident. You chose to help those who were lost, including your father and your brothers. Then I noticed you. You are a being of light, Saoirse, and you have been during your short life on earth. Today is your anniversary, and you can choose one more time.”

  “And my mother?”

  “Creirwy is a very special woman, but not as much as you. She was afraid.”

  “You're free now, Saoirse," Jon told her. “Now and forever."

  “I cannot be free yet. Not until I make sure that O'Balor will not harm anyone else.”

  Jon ducked his head. When he lifted it, his eyes shone in the darkness.

  “I'm not going anywhere without you, because you've stolen my soul.”

  Saoirse breathed the breeze that came from the ocean and felt the energy flow between them, renewed and savage. She heard a vibrating pop again, but it was no longer his dagger. Jon held her tightly as he stroked her tear-stained face.

  “I will not let you fight alone. I'm a soldier, remember?”

  THE END

  ACKNOWLEDGMENT

  To my dearest friends Dublineta Eire, Sònia A. Kirchen, Cristina Marcos and María Beatobe, for always being there when I need them and, above all, for being so special and unique.

  To my Wattpad readers for their constant support and enormous patience.

  Most especially, to my daughters, Inmaculada and Alejandra, because I love them so much and because they make me laugh every time they ask me to “kill everybody” so that I can finish writing The heart of the highlander (El corazón del highlander). Never lose your innocence. There is always a happy ending. Always. Love is too powerful, someday you will understand. It is the only thing that is worth it.

  Rossalyn Callum

  * * *

  [1] Who are you? Where I am?

  [2] I am Saoirse (My name is Saoirse).