Tiernan, Cate - The Sweep 07 - The Calling by Tiernan Cate

Tiernan, Cate - The Sweep 07 - The Calling by Tiernan Cate

Author:Tiernan, Cate [Tiernan, Cate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: sf_horror
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


7. The Watch

August 20, 1981

This morning at dawn I took Maeve for a walk along the cliffs. We were both still floating on the joy of last night. Yet I knew I had to tell her. I expected it to shock, possibly hurt her, but I was certain she’d forgive me in the end. After all, we are mùirn beatha dàns.

Maeve was going on about where we’d live. Much as she loves Ballynigel, she does not want to stay here her entire life; she wants to see the world, and I would love nothing more than to show it to her. But her happy ramblings were like blows to my heart. At last, when I could stand to wait no more, I told her, as gently as I could, that I was not yet free to travel with her, that I had a wife and two children in Scotland.

At first she only looked at me in confusion. I repeated what I’d said, this time taking her hands in mine.

Then her confusion was replaced by disbelief. She begged me, weeping, to tell her it wasn’t true. But I couldn’t. I could not lie to her.

I pulled her close to kiss away her tears. But she would have none of me. She yanked her hands from mine and stepped away. I pleaded with her to give me time. I told her I couldn’t afford to enrage Greer—not if I wanted to take her place. But I swore I’d leave the lot of them as soon as I could.

She cut me off. “You will not leave your wife and children,” she said, the anguish in her eyes turning to fire. “First you betray me with lies. Now you want to destroy a family as well?” Then she told me to leave her, to get away.

I couldn’t believe she was serious. I argued, cajoled, begged. I told her to take time to consider. I said we’d find a gentle way to go forward together, that, of course, I would provide for my family. But no matter what I said, I could not dissuade her. She who had been so soft, so yielding, was suddenly like iron.

My soul is shattered. Tomorrow I return to Scotland.

— Neimhidh



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