Page 24 of Simon Says

CHAPTER FIVE

The third time,trying to remember how fast he’d chased Sorcha around the ring when he was twenty years younger, and finding that it took more effort to achieve that speed than he remembered, his panting turned to gasps when he touched the rock and found that it was no more material than air.

He stepped through the rock as if it wasn’t there, but once on the other side thought his mind was playing tricks on him.

Because nothing was changed.

The sky was threatening to shower, just as it had been. The plain was deserted, just as it had been. Purple foxgloves were dancing in the occasional waft of breeze, just as they had been. Dejected that his experiment had failed, he walked back to the spot where he’d sat down to wait for Rosie’s return and took up his post, deciding that he would never tell a soul that he’d been foolish enough to think he could find his own way to another world.

When an hour passed, he began to wonder why the whister hadn’t arrived. For that matter, he had expected Rosie to be back sooner. He looked at his watch, but no time had passed. He thought that strange, but concluded, again, that his mind was playing tricks on him.

He pulled his phone from his pocket to check messages and found the black screen of death. There was no response to an attempt to reboot. The device was stone cold dead.

At dinner time, he was feeling worried, hungry, and thirsty. He reasoned that if Rosie’s tracking skills were keen enough to locate someone in another dimension, she shouldn’t have much trouble finding him if he wandered off to hunt down something to eat. So Simon began walking south.

He crossed the plain, climbed a rise, and saw cattle grazing in the distance. Reasoning that he could find someone who’d point him in the direction of food, he walked that way. His shoes were designed more for office wear than hiking cross country and were more fashionable than functional in a rugged way, but they were passably comfortable.

Keeping up a steady pace, he could see the cattle that had been in the distance more clearly with every step he took in their direction. He squinted his eyes because something was off. The shape of their bodies. The shape of their horns, maybe.

He continued to put one foot in front of the other until the truth of what he was seeing was inescapable. The animals were not cattle. They were Hebridean sheep that were the size of cattle. The multiple sets of horns, that seemed like a fetching curiosity on a small breed of sheep, looked ominous on animals as large as cattle.

As he approached, some of them lifted their heads and observed his proximity with eyes that looked more intelligent than the smaller variety he’d seen before. He wondered why he’d been unaware of an effort by breeders to dramatically increase the size of Hebrideans. It hadn’t beenthatlong since he’d visited the north.

He saw a farmhouse with smoke coming from the chimney and hoped the sheep would let him pass so he could inquire about the closest place to find food. Three Border Collies trotted over to say hello as he neared the door. He gave each of them a brief rub behind the ears before proceeding. The aroma coming from the cabin was heavenly and his mouth began watering. Literally.

An elderly fae opened the door and stood waiting for Simon to state his business.

“Good evening,” Simon said.

“Huh!” The fae said. Over his shoulder, he shouted, “Human,” to someone in the house.

Simon heard a feminine voice, but couldn’t understand what was said.

The fae turned back to Simon.

“I’ve been separated from my companions. We were, ah, sightseeing at the ring. I was wondering where would be the closest place to get dinner.”

The fae turned and shouted over his shoulder again. “Wants dinner.” After appearing to listen to a reply, the fae turned back to Simon. “You got money?”

Simon blinked rapidly. He wasn’t sure whether he did or not. He so rarely needed money, he didn’t think to keep a supply on hand. He fished out his wallet, opened it, and said, “Yes. Some. Bank of Scotland notes.”

The fae nodded. “Good enough. We’re havin’ buffalo and potatoes. How’s that?”

“That’s, ah, very nice. I don’t want to put you out.”

“If you pay me, you will no’ be puttin’ me out then, will you?”

“I suppose not.”

“What’s it worth to you?”

At that point, Simon was getting over his surprise at the strange exchange and getting into the spirit of the transaction. “I suppose that depends on how good it is. And whether or not you’re serving wine.”

The fae’s eyes crinkled in humor at the challenge. “Wine. Nay. Red ale is what we’re havin’. And ’tis good enough for human, I’ll tell ye that.”

“And what else are you serving? Besides buffalo and potatoes?”

“Garden greens. Fresh baked bread. Bread puddin’.”

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