Page 2 of The Story of his Highland Bride
Eloise eyed the eerily still branches, wondering if she was somehow in the eye of the storm.
“What the—?” A chill prickled down her spine as starlings fluttered down from the trees, landing on each of the smaller sentinel stones that surrounded the circular cairn. They seemed to be staring at her, but that couldn’t be right… could it?
She looked back at the taller stone, jumping in fright. A starling perched at the top, and the slender, speckled bird wasdefinitelystaring at her. It even tilted his head, as if waiting for something.
“I don’t have any bread or seeds or… whatever it is they feed you, with me,” she said quietly, feeling a little silly for talking to the creature.
Evidently offended, the starling flew off, back up to the nearest tree, and Eloise took a breath.
Seems I’m pissing everyone off today,she mused grimly.
But therewassomething about the ancient place, where people from the Bronze Age were dead and buried, that unnerved her. Or maybe it was just the fact that she was alone, freezing, nursing a broken heart, fighting an uphill battle with a deadline and her future, and now a bunch of starlings were about to descend on her if she didn’t cough up some breadcrumbs.
“This was a stupid idea,” she muttered, turning around.
The whole holiday had been a stupid idea. Did she really think she could run from all the problems she had back in London? After all, they’d still be waiting for her when she got back. Some wouldn’t even wait that long.
She was about to head back to the car, her foot halfway across the invisible perimeter formed by the standing stones, when the wind picked up again. She froze, looking at the branchesthat still weren’t moving and the sleek, unruffled feathers of the expectant starlings. There was no breath of wind on her face, either. Yet, she couldhearit, whispering around the cairns.
“Okay, you know I’m not writing a horror novel, right?” she said aloud, to comfort herself.
Your palm upon the stone,the wind seemed to reply.
“Great. Didn’t think I’d be starting my descent into madness so soon,” Eloise continued, glancing back at the tallest standing stone. “When in Scotland, I guess, do as Macbeth would do. See apparitions, go mad, take your litter with you.”
Your palm upon the stone,the wind urged, growing louder though the trees still wouldn’t move. Nothing moved. Not even the birds.Your palm upon the stone… your palm upon the stone… your palm upon the stone,the air chanted, as that warm current of early spring circled around Eloise, herding her back toward the standing stone at the tail of the cairn’s keyhole.
“Is someone playing a trick?” Eloise scanned the surrounding area. “Halloween iswayover. Believe me, I know. So, if you could pack this in, I’d appreciate it.”
Your palm upon the stone,came the reply, making her whip her head around. That time, it had sounded like there was someone right behind her ear, breathing the words down her neck.
Too terrified to disobey, though there was no logic in what she was hearing or seeing, she placed her hand against the stone, hoping that the trick would end once she did.
She gasped in shock. “It’s warm—”
Torn between recoiling and trying to see if there was some hidden panel to freak out tourists, left behind by stewards who weren’t paid enough, Eloise pressed her palm harder against the stone. The warmth took a turn for the fiery, until the heat began to burn… but when she tried to draw her hand back so she could anxiously laugh off the big joke, she couldn’t. Her palm was stuck, and the stone was getting hotter by the second.
“Help!” she cried out, certain that there’d be a groundskeeper or a ranger wandering somewhere nearby. “Someone, help!”
The ground trembled beneath her, and the trees that had been still for so long began to shake violently, desperate to shed leaves that had already fallen. The starlings shot up into the sky, joined by hordes more, beginning the rolling waves of a murmuration; perfectly, chillingly choreographed.
Help!Eloise cried again, but no sound came out. The scream was in her head; her lips as stuck as her hand on the stone.Help me! Oh God, please help me!
Frantically, she pulled and pulled, her breaths shallow and panicked as the standing stone held fast to her palm. All the while, the earth groaned and shuddered under her feet, splintering a crack up the stone façade.
Determined to free herself even if it meant ripping her skin, Eloise yanked with all her might. With one final, desperate wrench, the stone released her. A gasp of relief hissed from her lungs as she staggered backward, but it was short-lived. The standing stone, whatever it was, was not done with her.
A loud boom thundered through the ground. The blow knocked into Eloise like a ton of bricks, and it was all she could do to stay on her feet as it blasted again and again, pushing her down the narrow passageway of the rounded cairn until she was standing in the very center of it.
She was vaguely aware of her head hitting something hard, as she was pushed off her feet, but whether it was the drystone wall that circled the cairn’s inner ring or the hard ground or a loose rock that had tumbled free of the pile, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was that it hurt, there were black spots dancing in her eyes, and there was a cold, liquid feeling running, somehow, over the inside of her skull.
No one is going to find me,she realized, as those black spots spread out into a veil of darkness, shrouding the sky and the murmuring starlings from sight.
As she’d said herself, who would be mad enough to venture out in the middle of winter, alone, to a secluded spot in the Highlands, where hers was the only car in the parking lot? By the time anyone noticed that she was missing, it would likely be too late.
2
With her last thoughts fixated on dying alone in the middle of nowhere, it came as something of a surprise to Eloise when her eyes opened, and there was a cloudy, gray sky above her. No winged greeting party or pearly gates, though she didn’t really believe in the cherubs and harps variety of afterlife anyway.
