Chapter Fifty-Nine
Dreadful Letter
Nora limped over to the fireplace and added the last of the logs to the bed of embers. She poured another cup of tea, returned to the living room, and grabbed Colin’s codebook. She wanted to see if anything else might help explain the full story of her ancestors and the curse that had plagued Cora.
The majority of the remaining pages were filled with war codes—numbers interwoven with letters in vertical lines—none of which she remotely understood. She flipped through it, looking for anything Cora-related, when a page containing drawings of the moon caught her attention. She began to decipher what he had written.
At the bottom was a line from the fairy song: “To shatter chains, to cease the waltz, a secret dance when the moon provesfalse.” The word “false” was circled in red, and a line connected it to a drawing of a black moon with the word “eclipse” under it. Then he had underlined the words “shattered chains and cease the waltz” with a connecting line that read: “conditions that one must be present to break the spell.” Another line went back up to the drawing of the moon, creating a loop. Nora took out her notebook and began to write down his notes in the order she thought made sense to her. She realized he had figured out another part of the curse.
“Conditions that one must be present to break the spell, a full moon eclipse,” she read aloud. A smile graced her lips; this little codebook gave her a sense of connection to Colin, her grandfather whom she had never met.
Turning to the next page, she eagerly anticipated what else he had decoded, but it was blank, as was the next page, and the one after that. This was the final entry in his journal. Nora looked down at the letter from the War Office, now resting alone on the coffee table. She knew there was no getting around it now; she needed to read that letter and find out what happened to Colin. She needed to know how he died. She slowly picked it up, hesitating for a moment before opening it.
6/3/1944
Dear Ms. Marjorie MacDonald,
It is with great sadness and a heavy heart that I write to inform you of the tragic loss of your brother, Corporal Colin MacDonald. On March 4, 1944, during a bombing incident in London, he lost his life while on leave.
Corporal MacDonald was an invaluable member of our unit, known for his exceptional skills on the battlefield and his eagerness to help continue the fight even after being wounded. His dedication and contributions played acrucial role in our efforts, and he was held in high regard by all who had the privilege of serving alongside him.
We understand that no words can truly ease the pain of such a loss, and we extend our deepest condolences to you and your family during this incredibly difficult time. Corporal MacDonald’s sacrifice will forever be remembered, and his bravery and commitment to duty will remain etched in our hearts.
Please know that the entire military community mourns with you. We are here to offer support and assistance in any way we can. His personal belongings will be sent to you along with any personal effects that were recovered.
May you find strength in the cherished memories of your brother and in the knowledge that his service and sacrifice have left an indelible mark on our nation.
With sincere condolences,
Patrick Lane
Military chaplain
Nora swallowed hard, pushing down the grief that threatened to overwhelm her. Reading the letter, she knew it was a death notice, but the emotional impact hit her harder than she expected. Nora felt as if she had come to know Colin through his letters over the past few days. It pained her deeply that he had worked with the group that had made such a significant impact on winning the war by breaking the Enigma codes, yet even in his passing, he was never acknowledged for his contribution. Marjorie and Gram remained unaware of his true heroism until years later.
She wondered if he had gone to London to propose to her grandmother, and Nora wondered if he had ever gotten a chanceto do so before he died. Her heart ached for her gram; to have lost the love of her life in such a tragic and sudden way must have been devastating.
Then it struck her—it was a tragic love story, like in the book. Maybe he was the reincarnation of James, and her grandmother that of Cora? Maybe that was why he had been trying so hard to figure it out. But the years didn’t add up. It hadn’t been long enough for them to have been the reincarnations.
She had mixed feelings about the little red book. On one hand, it was the story of her family lineage, and on the other, a death note. She looked back at Colin’s notebook and opened it to the page about the fairy curse. Skimming back over his notes, she realized there was no way he could have been the reincarnation of James. Even though he had fallen in love with Edith in the winter, Colin was Cora’s descendant, not her gram’s.
Nora reached forward to grab the little red book off the coffee table, wanting to reread the note in the back when she caught sight of a letter on the floor. Alistair must have dropped it when she kissed him last night. Picking it up, she realized he hadn’t read the whole thing, only just the beginning of it. She smoothed it out on her lap and began to read the rest of the letter.
I have figured out yet another part of the fairy’s song.
“In each dance, a mirrored hue, yet frosty waters claim their due.” The first part of this is a metaphor implying each new life they inhabit, their fate is mirrored. The end of the verse is literal, as their love ultimately meets a tragic end in water.
“To shatter chains, to cease the waltz, a secret dance when the moon proves false.”
I’ve been dwelling on these lines, and it’s becomingclear to me. The spell can only be broken during a lunar eclipse. “Seek within the heart’s deep well, a selfless step where shadows dwell.” A selfless act during the eclipse, that’s the key.
“When icy whispers bid you near, a sacrifice, the path will clear.”
The icy whispers, the waters that ended James’s life—it’s pointing toward a sacrifice. Perhaps when the reincarnation of James is drawn near the water, Cora’s reincarnation must intervene, and perform the selfless act. It’s not crystal clear yet.
I’m hopeful, Marjorie. This is progress, closer than anyone has come to unlocking the curse. If we succeed, then we don’t need to end the curse by not having children. I have not burdened Edith with any of this as I am so close to ending it. I understand why Mother made us promise not to have kids, as one of our grandchildren would be afflicted with the curse, but asking us to put our lives on hold was unfair. I think she harbored guilt over not doing that herself. I will do everything in my power to try to solve this so that you and Flora may have children someday, and so might Edith and I. Think what a grand time we all would have with little ones running around.
I plan to propose to Edith next weekend in London, and by the time I return, I aim to have the entire mystery unraveled. We’ll finally break this curse that has haunted our family for centuries. Until we speak again, my dear sister.
