“Perhaps there was only one such person in the clan – Mary. After all, clairvoyants exist all over the world, even today. We only know of Mary McKenzie, who truly had the gift. She lived in the castle from 1632 to 1679. It's said there were others, but no specific names can be given. Mary could see the future and could tell everyone what was, had been, and would be. So, I believe if anyone in our family ever had a magical gift, it was Mary.”
Megan, who had been listening to the couple with interest, asked, “And what do your grandfather and brother think, Warren? Do they agree with your opinion?”
“Yes, they also support this version.”
Glenn seemed a bit disappointed, “You can think what you like, but I believe in all of it. Megan, will you join us for the fern flower festival?”
“Definitely, I'm eagerly looking forward to the day. But I really hope we won't go searching for the fern flower at midnight. Those are the kinds of things I'm afraid of, even though I don't believe in them, you never know… what if…” the girl answered, laughing.
“Don’t worry; we won't be going after the flower. We'll just be enjoying the atmosphere and having fun.”
“Great! Warren, Glenn, thank you for taking the time to share all these stories with me; I truly found them very fascinating. To be honest, I didn’t expect such warmth and hospitality. My sincerest thanks to you both.”
“Come on, Megan! It was our pleasure. As I said earlier today, I hope with time you’ll see that we truly are your family and that you can count on us,” Warren replied, and Glenn added, “I’m also very glad you’re here. Being the only woman among three men, I’ve been missing having a female friend around. I really hope to find one in you.”
“Thank you, Glenn. I think we’ve already become friends. Overall, I’m very grateful that you both agreed to stay with me for a while. I can’t imagine what it would have been like for me alone in such a huge castle.”
Megan set aside her empty whiskey glass, wished everyone a good night, and went to her room. In her bedroom, she listened for any sounds, but all was quiet. She approached the window to see if the mysterious man in the kilt was on the hill. It was empty. With a peaceful heart, Megan took a shower and went to bed. Tonight, she was not troubled by irrational thoughts.
Despite Megan going to bed without any worries, her night was tormented by nightmares. Margaret, whom Warren had spoken about the day before, sat in a chair by the window in Megan's room, half-turned with her legs pulled up to her chest, crying, and occasionally pressing a handkerchief to her face. She wore a mourning dress, and her black thick hair was spread over her shoulders. The girl's face was in the shadow of the dimmed light.
Then Megan dreamt of the crypt. She was running through its corridors, hearing behind her, “You can't escape from the past.” This cry echoed from the tomb where Margaret's remains lay. And at the exit from the crypt, Mary, whom her cousin also mentioned, opened the door for her. She appeared to be about fifty years old and must have been a beautiful woman once. Mary said, “Go, it's still possible to change everything.” On a large stone by the chapel sat a black raven, watching Megan. And at the castle's door stood her grandfather Malcolm, who told her, “Thank you for coming, I'm very glad. Now I know you need to be here. It had to happen; the time has come. Mary is right; everything can still be changed. Go forward through life without fear, no matter what and in spite of everything. I will protect you, my girl.”
