Bad Blood Page 10

  “I don’t know,” I laugh. “But…I thought you hated scary movies.”

  “Hate is such a strong word…more like I loathe them with a fiery passion.”

  “Okay…then why are we here?”

  “Because you love them, dummy,” he says, shaking his head.

  “That was awesome,” I say. We’re back at my aunt’s place, standing under the overhang. Robby holds my hand, stands close. I tilt my chin up. He’s so near, I can see stubble on his chin. When did he start to shave? The only time I feel like a normal person is when I’m around him.

  Before I know what I’m doing, I lean forward. He smells so good. I mean to kiss him, for real this time, but he pulls away.

  “It’s late, huh?” he asks, his voice strained.

  “Yeah, I was just thinking that too. I have to get upstairs. I…” I go for the door. “See you later, Robby.” I give him an awkward pat on the shoulder.

  “See you later,” he says, backing away quickly.

  I head up the stairs and find my aunt awake on the couch. “Couldnae sleep,” she tells me. I collapse next to her and rest my head on her shoulder.

  “How was the movie?” she asks. Robby must have told her where we were going.

  “Confusing,” I say.

  “Hmmm, it got good reviews.”

  “I’m going to get some sleep.” I lean over and kiss her. “Shout if you need anything.”

  “I will. Oh, your mom called me.”

  I stop at my doorway, turn. “And…what’s her problem this time?”

  “She doesn’t want you wandering the mean streets of Edinburgh by yourself.”

  I grimace. “Sorry if I got you in trouble.”

  She lets out a soft laugh. “Heather, I’m a grown woman. I’m not in trouble.”

  “So…am I still allowed to wander?” I ask hopefully.

  She sighs. “I love having you visit every year, love having you here. I would never do anything to jeopardize that, or to put you in danger.” I nod, waiting for her verdict. “Your mother has always been a bit overprotective, and when she walked in on you at the beginning of summer…let’s just say she wants to keep you safe at all times. But honestly, Heather, you’re old enough to take care of yourself. You have been for a very long time. Even if you do have—”

  “Issues,” I say.

  “You’ve always been a very responsible girl. I guess, until you prove otherwise, I’m going to assume you’re still that same responsible girl, with a few issues thrown in.”

  I let out a relieved breath, one I hadn’t realized I was holding. I’ve gotten used to having my freedom here. “Thanks, Aunt Abbie.” At least she thinks I’m the same person.

  “But…maybe let’s not be so snide to your mother and rub her face in the fact that she cannae hover over you while you’re here. Especially in light of her newest idea about your course of treatment.”

  “No, you’re right. She just…she just gets on my nerves.”

  She smiles. “When I was your age, your gram drove me absolutely mental. I thought she was so clueless.” She shakes her head. “It won’t always be like this, though. I promise.”

  “And I promise I’ll be smart and play nice.” I notice a travel guide to Australia on the cushion next to her and my eyes light up. Maybe she changed her mind about not going. Before I can say anything she coughs into a tissue and I can just make out a faint splatter of red.

  “Oh my God, are you okay?”

  “Aye…it’s normal. Could you just get me a glass of water?”

  That night I dream of the Highlands, of a cottage on a hill, of children playing. And then my dream turns into a nightmare.

  IT IS DARK. So dark. But I see a spark of light above me. I push through the soil, but it is no’ dirt that my hand reaches out and touches. It is solid and familiar. I am buried beneath a sea of bodies.

  I struggle to shift even an inch. Slowly, I move upward, grabbing on to limbs, pushing off rotting flesh. I wriggle my way to the top and pull myself from the pile of the dead. The plague came for me, but it didnae take me. I crawl away from my would-be grave, grateful for the feel of soil, its hearty fragrance. But even the robust earth cannae remove the stench of rot from my nose.

  I am weakened from the pox. It came on so very quickly I didnae have the wits to prepare a tonic that would stop the sickness. I turn on my back and stare up at the sky. The clear blueness mocks me, the sun harsh on my bruised and blackened skin.

  With great care I sit up and stare at the pit that was almost my fate. Bodies are piled one upon another, with no regard for Christian rites or family wishes. Limbs lie askew, tinted dark purple, a telltale sign of the plague. These corpses must be put in the ground as quickly as possible to stop the spread of the terrible pox. A moan drifts up from the pile. A single voice pleading for water, and then a name I cannae make out. A call for someone who will never come. Another plague victim brought and dumped here before properly meeting death.

  I spit the dirt from my mouth and slowly, shakily stand. I must go back home and recover my health. I have so much to do.

  I spot a plague bearer watching me through his white mask. The nose is hooked, long, like a water bird’s. In the snout are stuffed herbs that help to deal with the smell of moving the rotting dead. A few believe the herbs will keep you from getting ill, though anyone who moves pox bodies has already suffered through, and recovered wholly from, the plague. He wears it as protection from the reek of so many rancid dead.

  I can tell he is sizing me up under his leather bird mask, determining whether I am a threat.

  “I feel,” I say, my words just a whisper in the wind. I clear my throat, spit out more dirt, and try to find my voice. I start again, my tone strong and unyielding, “I feel much recovered.”

  He gives me a curt nod, his eyes boring into my body, and I look down at myself. My clothes have gone awry, my sleeve ripped, exposing too much skin. I catch sight of the mark on my inner arm: an X with a circle through the middle. No one can see this, for I havenae survived the black plague only to be hanged as a witch.

  Slowly, with great care, I step around the plague bearer and away from the plague pit and walk toward home. A boy sees me and gasps, running away to his mother’s skirts. I look like a beggar, or an ill-used woman, but at least I am alive.

  No thanks to her.

  I am no’ shocked that she let them take me, her love is so fickle as of late. She will regret this betrayal, and all the others accumulated over the years. All the anguish and indignities I have suffered at her hands. She has become something wicked, and I will have my revenge.

  “EARTH TO HEATHER,” my aunt says, waving her hand in front of my face. She says Earth like airth. “Where’s your mind at today, love?”

  We’re visiting Gram, who is remarkably lucid today. I’m the one who’s having trouble focusing. It’s the new medicine Dr. Casella prescribed. After taking it for a few days, I’ve decided to stop. The meds are making me hazy…and it’s not like they’ve stopped my weird dreams.

  The one last night was so strange, so terrifyingly real. I can still smell the awful stench of rotting bodies. It felt like I was actually there, buried under bodies, clawing my way out of a pit.

  It makes me want to focus on the other dream, the one that wasn’t so bad, of the children laughing, playing outside the cottage in the Highlands. That one was more dreamlike, hard to hold on to. For some reason, it’s the one that’s stuck with me, though. When I woke I knew I had to go there, to see it for myself. To finally find out if my dreams are real or if I’m just insane.

  “I was wondering…do you think it would be possible for me to visit the cottage in the Highlands?” I get the strange feeling I’ve been searching for it, even before I had that dream. The reason I felt so compelled to come to Scotland.

  “Why? You’ve never asked before.” My aunt takes a sip of tea, and I can feel Gram’s eyes on me. I want to say that I just found out about it like, four days ago, but instead I
say, “I’ve just been thinking a lot about our family. I’d like to see where we lived.”

  “There’s no electricity,” my aunt warns. “No phone, and forget about Wi-Fi. There is working plumbing, but you’d have to cook your meals in the hearth.”

  “Well, that sounds fun,” I say. “Like camping, but better.”

  My aunt is still not convinced. “It’s a four-hour drive,” she tells me. She looks worn, tired. I know she’s not up to travel.

  “Maybe Fiona could drive. I’ll ask Asha to come too. We’ll have the ultimate sleepover.”

  Aunt Abbie considers. “I’ll speak with your parents about it.” She winces, rubs her stomach. “Those biscuits arenae sitting right. Excuse me.” She disappears into the bathroom. She’s been throwing up a lot more lately. At least that means that the chemo may be effective after all.

  When I look at Gram she’s studying me, her deep blue eyes clear. “They speak to me too, you know…or at least, they used to.”

  “Who, Gram?” I ask, clutching my cup a little too tightly, spilling hot tea on myself. I put the cup on the table and grab a napkin.

  “The witches.”

  I pause, drop the napkin onto my lap. “What witches?”

  “One had the talent, and one didn’t. One accepted the world as it was, and one turned to Blood Magic.” She grabs my arm, her grip surprisingly strong. “Do you cut yourself?” she hisses. “Are you hers?”

  I try to pull away, but her fingers bite into my skin. “Gram, you’re hurting me.”

  “Mum, what are you doing?” Abbie enters the room and pries Gram’s hand from my arm.

  “Dinnae let her win,” Gram tells me, her voice full of warning.

  “I’m sorry, Heather, I dinnae know what’s gotten into her. She was doing so well.” Aunt Abbie leads Gram to her bed. “I’m going to try to get her to take a nap. Why dinnae you wait in the car.”

  Outside, I pull my hoodie up against the light rain, my head spinning. Instead of going to the car, I text Asha, asking if she wants to take a walk. When she texts back that she’s not busy, I send another text telling my aunt where I’ll be. Asha’s house isn’t far from here, and I need a break from all the weird things that are going on in my life. I need to feel ordinary, even if it’s for a few hours. Even if it is a lie.

  Gram knows.

  “Could we walk at like, a normal pace?” I ask, panting slightly. We’re in Holyrood Park, climbing to Arthur’s Seat, the highest point in Edinburgh. The rain stopped and the sun is out, making it unreasonably hot for Scotland. We’re only about a third of the way up the hill and I’m already tired. Asha is doing this power walking thing that was fine at first, but it’s way too much for me now.

  Asha glances back at me, slows down. “I know Americans are out of shape, but this is ridiculous.”

  “Ha-ha.” The first part of the trail is steps carved out of the dirt and reinforced with wood. I sit on a patch of grass off to the side so people can pass us. “I’m just not used to…well, physical activity. What?” I say off Asha’s look. “I watch a lot of movies. It’s my thing.”

  Asha sits next to me. She’s not even breathing hard. “I love hill walking….My family went up to the Highlands last year, to the Isle of Skye. There are some really good trails.”

  “Speaking of the Highlands, do you want to come up to my family’s cottage with me?” I ask.

  “Your family has a cottage in the Highlands?”

  “Apparently. It’s old, no electricity or anything. I want to check it out. Maybe we can get Fiona to drive.”

  “Just don’t tell her about the electricity,” she says with a laugh. “But it sounds fun to me. When did you want to go?”

  “Not sure, maybe this weekend. I need to clear it with my aunt.” I look out over the city. “You know, I’m jealous of you guys. You get to live here year-round. You get to hang out whenever you like.”

  “You could come to university here.” Because of her dad’s job, Asha already knows she’ll be attending Edinburgh University.

  I sigh at the thought. “We could even be roommates. Maybe we could all get a flat together….” I trail off when I see Asha’s face.

  “I can’t imagine living with Fiona,” she admits. “It’s not that I don’t love her,” she quickly adds. “It’s just she’s so…”

  “Fiona,” I say with a grin.

  She nods. A pair of hikers pass us, a woman and a small child who can’t be older than five. Asha gives me a pointed look.

  “What?” I ask. “Clearly that kid is some kind of advanced mountain climber….” I sigh. “Just give me one more minute to rest.”

  “Fine…if you fill me in about you and Robby.”

  “Oh my God, how did I not tell you already? I tried to kiss Robby.”

  “Wait, what?” She turns to me, brown eyes wide. “What do you mean, tried?”

  I tell her what happened, about all the signals I thought I was getting from Robby. About the movie and standing under the overhang. The whole awkward mess.

  “I thought he liked me, you know, liked me…but then he just walked away.”

  Asha shakes her head. “Heather, you’ve always been a bit oblivious when it comes to Robby. He’s liked you for years. Anyone can see that.”

  “Then what’s his deal?” I ask.

  “Hmmmm…” Asha purses her lips.

  “ ‘Hmmmm’ what?”

  “You can’t think of any reason…any reason at all why Robby might be acting so hot and cold?”

  “No…,” I say, and Asha raises her eyebrows at me.

  “Robby’s older, cuter brother?”

  My face drops. “I don’t think Alistair is cuter anymore.”

  “But you did, for years. Do you know how much you used to talk about him? Robby’s probably wondering if you actually like him.”

  “When we first met up this summer, I did ask him about Alistair…” I trail off when Asha gives me another look. “Okay, okay. I’m a jerk. What should I do to let him know I’m interested? Send him flowers? The card can read: Roses are red, Violets are blue, sorry I was obsessed with your brother for years, but now I really like you.”

  Asha guffaws and another pair of hikers look over at us. One is wearing flip-flops. I stand. “Okay, I’m ready now.”

  “Just talk to Robby,” Asha says. “Or talk to Fiona and I’m sure Robby will hear about it in a matter of moments. You could invite him to the cottage too. If your aunt is there…”

  “I’m not sure my aunt can come. Is that a problem?” I know it won’t be for Fiona. She’ll just have to work out her schedule at the café. Asha’s parents, on the other hand, might take some convincing.

  “Maybe I don’t have to tell them she won’t be there.”

  “Asha, you little sneak!”

  Her dark skin reddens and she gives me a little shrug. “Well, if you invite Robby, I can invite Duncan—”

  “You evil genius!”

  “And we can have a little romantic weekend in the Highlands.”

  “Yes, just the two of you…and me…and maybe Robby. And Fiona.”

  She throws up her arms. “Look, let’s just make it up this hill first.”

  “Okay, okay. Let’s go. There better be an ice cream shop at the top,” I say. Suddenly I feel a shove from behind and my foot catches. I fall facedown in the dirt.

  “Are you okay?” Asha rushes to my side. I stand and wipe my hand on my jeans. There’s no one around who could have pushed me, and Asha was in front of me. “I just lost my balance, I guess.” I let out a shaky laugh. “You know how clumsy I am.”

  “It looked like you just fell over for no reason.” Her mouth drops. “Heather, your jeans…you’re bleeding.”

  I look down and find the right side of my jeans stained dark. My carving must have opened up from the exertion.

  “Oh, I must have cut myself,” I say. I need to get home and change the bandage. “I think I’ll head back.”

  “I’ll walk you home,
” she says, her face full of doubt. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Finish your hike—at least this gets me out of the rest of it.” I smile weakly. Asha still looks worried. “And I’ll call you later about the trip. It’ll be fun.”

  I turn before she can stop me and head down the hill.

  “Heather,” my aunt calls, poking her head into my room.

  I pause the movie I’m watching on my computer and take out my earbuds.

  “Yeah?”

  “I wanted to speak with you about Gram.” She comes inside and I move over so she can sit next to me on the bed. “I’m sorry if she upset you earlier.”

  “It’s just weird, seeing her freak out like that.” I snap my computer shut and push it to the bottom of the bed.

  “That’s what I wanted to talk with you about. Your doctor, Dr. Casella?”

  “Yeah?”

  “She contacted me. Your father gave her my number. She wanted me to release your grandmother’s medical records since I’m Gram’s legal guardian now.”

  “Did she say anything about me?” I ask.

  “No, nothing like that. I just…When I emailed her the files, I looked through them first and I found out some things I didnae know.”

  “Like?”

  “When Gram was young—about your age, actually—she…well, there’s no easy way to say this. She had a mental break. She was committed to a psychiatric ward for a whole year.” She shakes her head. “I knew she was always a little strange, but I had no idea she was mentally ill when she was younger.”

  “What was wrong with her?” I ask.

  “According to the records, she used to have these horrible nightmares. They started when she was sixteen.”

  “You mean night terrors? Like mine?”

  Aunt Abbie nods. “Not bad at first, but then…” My aunt looks around the room, anything to avoid meeting my eyes.