Free Dragon Knight's Medallion by Mary Morgan Page B

and medallion. “What are these?”
    Aileen backed up slowly, pressing herself against the wall. “In your hands is the journal and medallion of Sir Stephen MacKay.”
    “Aileen, where did you find these?” Lily said in a hushed tone.
    Now it was Aileen’s turn to laugh. “Well, you see, the journal was in my father’s possession, but I came upon the medallion down by the ocean this morning.” Pushing away from the wall, she took the items from her aunt. A shadow of something passed over her aunt’s face.
    She rubbed the medallion’s cool surface infusing her with strength, her gaze directed at her aunt. “Tell me something...have you always known about the vision my mother had of me coming to Scotland, and meeting some untimely ending?”
    Aunt Lily’s shoulders slumped, which told Aileen all she needed to know.
    “So your father’s finally told you.” She reached out a hand, but Aileen took a step backwards. “You don’t understand, dear.” Her hand fisted. “I made your mother a solemn vow—a promise not to say anything to you.”
    “There are so many secrets locked into each of you that it makes me wonder whose truth is real.” Turning away, she headed back outside. She needed distance...distance from everyone.
    “Aileen?”
    She paused, refusing to meet her aunt’s gaze. Aileen had enough of her own emotions without seeing the anguish in Aunt Lily’s.
    Her aunt’s voice carried an edge of steel when she spoke. “You are descended from magical people, Aileen, and magic is at the core of who you are. There is still so much you need to comprehend and learn.” Her tone took a more ominous turn. “Do not close yourself off to the possibilities of it all. To do so will only bring you destruction.”
    Aileen drew in a long breath and held it, holding back a terse retort. She would not give her the satisfaction of an acknowledgement. Holding her chin high, she deftly walked away from her aunt, seeking consolation away from the people who had called themselves family .
    ****
    Aileen had traveled far, her steps leading her to their own destination. She didn’t care where they went or what they were in search of. Peace and solitude was what she sought, and she kept moving. Something skittered past her, and she came to an abrupt stop, glancing around at her surroundings.
    The ruins of Arbroath Abbey loomed in front of her.
    They were majestic with the sunlight dancing off the red sandstone. She cast her gaze to the distinctive round high window at the south end. Thoughts of long ago pierced her thoughts wondering what it would have looked liked lit at night. Aileen knew this window was used as a beacon for mariners, and known locally as the Round O .
    Seagulls cawed in the distance, and she moved toward the ruins. She felt empowered with the sea behind her. Marveling at the foliage of various plants, Aileen stopped and touched them, mentally cataloguing each for a later time. As she stepped through the arch’s entrance, it was as if time stopped and a hushed silence descended.
    “Is this where you once stood, Sir Stephen?” Her gaze touched on the medallion—expecting him to appear and answer her.
    She continued to stroll slowly across the damp ground, and choosing a sunny location, sat down with her back against one of the walls. The warmth of the stones infused her body. Her hand rested over the top of the journal, hesitant to open it again.
    Taking the medallion, she shoved it into her coat, and opened the book. “Tell me who you are.”
    Her first thought was to turn to the last page again, yet, she wanted to know more of the man who had written her name on the page. There were copious notes on the daily building and repairs of the abbey. Then on some pages, there would be a mixture of plants drawn along the borders. At times, she could tell when he was frustrated. His notes would be curt and scribbled, and sections of drawings were scratched out, or partially completed. On one of the pages,