Angel Magic

Fear not for death is not the end

And eternity is not forever

When the sun kisses the land

And shadows meet the light

The angels will come and show the truth

Four hundred years is spent in darkness

But on the eve of death, the magic will come

And carry you into the arms of love

SCOTLAND – 1613

The thumping of Tristan Neal’s heart drowned out his labored breaths. His feet fairly flew through the maze-like corridors of his ancestral home, pushing him further away from the carnage. He clutched a heart shaped locket in his hand, the blood stained chain wrapped around his hand like a solid spider web.

          Stopping to catch his breath, he pressed his body into a narrow crevice in the wall and watched as four armed guards ran past. Their footfalls echoed along stone walls, sinister, like evil voices in the night. Tristan had battled many men, too many to count, but still his family had perished. He glanced at the locket in his trembling hand. Less than a fortnight ago, Maxwell Connor arrived declaring his stake to the Neal inheritance. Tristan’s da never kept his infidelity a secret, not even to his bonnie mammy, but Da had kept his dobber brither a secret. His English dobber brither. Now, Maxwell had gone insane. He’d ordered the execution of every member of the Neal family. All Tristan could do was run.

          Bastard brother.

          “Dobber brither,” Tristan muttered.

          A hand grasped his shoulder and his entire being went cold. He’d let his guard down for too long. The pain across his throat was sharp and short. He was still alive when he hit the mosaic floor, the heart shaped locket tumbling from his hand. Feebly, he grasped for the locket but his assailant kicked it from his reach. Maxwell Connor’s face appeared before Tristan’s dimming eyes.

“Ah, ‘tis a wonderful sight, brither,” Maxwell mimicked the Scottish accent. “Yoo all but out of blood. Ah, ne’er min’, I’ll take care of bonnie Isla for yoo.”

          Tristan tried to pull the jeweled dirk from his belt, but his arms wouldn’t move. “I shall return from the grave and wreak havoc on you and your kin,” he whispered, his voice like gravel.

          “I look forward to the pleasure of meeting you in the afterlife,” Maxwell replied with a mocking smirk. He picked up the locket and stood. “I’m sure Isla would like her trinket returned.”

          When Tristan next awoke, his bonnie Isla stood above him, her green eyes downcast and a thick hood of black wool covered her delicate features. A dark coil of hair slipped from under the rough material and she tucked it back into place with a slender finger. She kneeled and placed his family bible onto his chest, followed by his jeweled dirk, the angel figurine from his bedchamber, and the heart shaped locket he’d planned to give Isla on the day he perished.

          “Fear not, Tristan, for death is not the end and eternity is not forever,” she whispered. “When the sun kisses the land and shadows meet the light, angels will appear and show the truth to those who deserve it. Four hundred years is spent in darkness but on the eve of death, the magic will come and carry you into the arms of love.”

          Tristan wanted to draw Isla into his arms and smother her in kisses but his body wouldn’t obey.

          “Oh, Tristan. Tha gaol agam ort.”

          Tristan stared into her shimmering eyes. I love you, too.

          For three hundred and fifty years, Tristan Neal lay in the ground, for three hundred and fifty years, silent and still. Then, a disturbance. Night air on his bones. The hushed voices of grave robbers roused him. His items, the precious objects Isla buried with him, were taken away and he rose as a vengeful spirit with hatred in his heart.

          But the world had changed. Those he sought to wreak revenge on had long died. For fifty years, he followed his angel figurine all over Scotland, through England and across the ocean to a new country, creating confusion and fear to whoever dared say that they owned his only possessions.

          So much had changed and he almost gave up on ever sleeping again.

          Until he saw her.