“Oh, I see. Well, anyway he gives me the box and says he forgot to tell you. There’s been a mix up. It needs to go to MacGregor Castle for the laird. Asks me if I can arrange delivery for him, seeing as I’m a courier and all. Offered an obscene amount of money for me to do it.”
“And you said yes?” Daisy looked in at the silver key in the box, not daring to touch it.
“I thought maybe you’d like to take it to the man of your dreams.” She grinned, flicking on the kettle. “If you’re safe to drive of course. Split the profits right down the middle.”
“Hang on, where did you read about these keys?”
“I’ll dig the book out in a minute. You need to decide if you’re going because it’s got to be there by tonight if we want the full amount.”
“That doesn’t give me much time to recover.”
“No but it does give you a chance to go see if Jock MacGregor really is having a party tomorrow. Wouldn’t that be something?”
“He’s not having a party, Tabby. It was a dream.”
“Sure it was. Now you make the tea and I’ll go look for that book.”
Ten minutes later they were sat together on the sofa. In Tabby’s hand was a yellowed and battered book with a plain black front cover. Mysteries of the Highlands was written in bold print on the front. She was reading from the contents as Daisy sipped at her tea.
“The ancient Highland Chronicles spoke of six keys forged by the druids long before the clans came into being. So far, two keys have been discovered and studied by students of the bizarre. The other four have yet to be found but many tales still swirl from those times.
Legends tell of the keys’ ability to allow travel through time and space. In some tales the keys unlock doors to different locations depending on who possesses them. In one thirteenth century volume, Morgana of the Orkneys wrote of Clan MacGregor and their connection to the keys.
She said the clan was descended from one of the first druids. He was responsible for imbuing the keys with their magical properties and it is through his clan-line that the blood of the magical passes, drawing the keys toward them like steel is drawn toward a magnet.
Cam MacGregor wrote in his private diaries of a silver key marked with an M, saying it was how he met his wife who was, quote, not of this time.”
“Any drawings?” Daisy asked, becoming interested despite her inner sceptic.
“Not here but listen to this. Cam’s son, Eddard also wrote of a key that was the reason he met his wife a generation later. He spoke of a silver key marked with an M, wishing it was still in his possession so he could leave it as an heirloom for his son, Jack, known to all as wee Jock.” Tabby closed the book. “Maybe that’s the Jock you met?”
“Come on. That’s a book about fairy stories from the Middle Ages. You don’t seriously believe it all, do you?”
“I’m not saying I do. I’m just saying it’s interesting reading, isn’t it? Listen, Jock apparently lost all the clan’s money in the thirteenth century. Then in the 1980s, someone dug it all up.”
“Dug all what up?”
“The money. He’d hidden it under the flagstones in the kitchen and then something must have happened before he could go back and get it. Some metal detectorist found it about ten years ago, made a fortune.”
“Why would he hide the money?”
“It doesn’t say. It just says that was when the clan fell into ruin, the castle too. It’s never been the same since.”
“That’s really weird. Is there anything else?”
“That’s about it for the MacGregors. There’s a thing here about a barefoot man attacking the clans. Want to hear about that?”
“Maybe later.”
Tabby put the book down. She didn’t finish reading it that day. When she finally did, weeks later, she was astonished to find out just what Jock MacGregor wrote about the third silver key and about who it was that delivered it directly into his bedchamber.
Chapter Eight
“What do you mean she’s gone?” Jock asked, shoving Alan up against the wall. “Where’s she gone?”
“I dinnae ken, my laird,” Alan replied, fighting to free himself, his feet kicking at thin air as Jock slid him up the wall. “Please, I beg you, let me free.”
“What have you done to her?”
