Page 5 of Treachery in the Highlands
"No one requires excitement, lass.Vow you will never go beyond Dùndubhan land again.Please, Rachel."
My father watches out for us all, and 'tis a hard job with so many magical women on the premises.So, I give in."I vow it, Father."
"Thank you,mo nighean."He offers me his arm as we enter the castle where the rest of the family is already waiting."The clan gathering 'tis a grand occasion.Rachel, you shall have a special role this time.We've all agreed that you should lead our contingent in the welcoming ceremony."
I swallow hard."Me?But...that's always been your duty, Father."
"And now 'tis time for you to take your place at the head of our procession along with me and your mother.Our people look to us, Rachel.We must uphold the old ways, even as the world changes around us."
"Of course, you're right.I won't let you down."
While my whole family begins to discuss the preparations, my mind wanders as it often does.I love my clan and my family.But I still yearn for more---for adventure, for the unknown, for something wonderful to happen.I close my eyes, picturing myself in my mother's New York, navigating crowded streets and towering buildings.Mayhap I would explore ancient ruins in Egypt or trek through lush jungles.She told me about those things too.
As our evening meal winds down, I make my excuses and head for my chamber, my mind buzzing with fresh ideas for things to try tomorrow.What if I could master my powers in time for the gathering?Mayhap then I could use them to help my family, or even impress the Buchanans.They have always viewed my family as being beneath them.
Och, how I wish I had a modern mattress like the ones my mother has told me about.Medieval beds aren't "cushy," as she would say.I flop onto my bed, staring up at the stone ceiling, thinking about all the stories Mother shared---about her life before she was transported here, about the wonders of the modern world.Would I be as brave as she was, plunging into an unknown future with nothing but her wits?
"What if..."I whisper to myself, grinning at my thoughts."What if I could use water to travel?To see other times, other places?"
The thought sends a thrill through me.I may not have mastered my powers yet, but I can feel it.Something monumental is coming.And whatever it is, I'll be ready.
I drift off to sleep, dreaming of lochs that stretch across centuries and adventures yet to come.
Chapter Three
Joey
What can I say?Scotland is amazing.I grew up on the streets of New York, where I was more likely to see a drunk vomiting on the sidewalk than to have cheerful people chatting with me.I'm not the most...friendly looking guy.Goatee, worn leather jacket, eyes that have seen too much---yeah, I'm that guy you probably cross the street to avoid.But here?These Highlanders don't seem to care that I resemble a hoodlum.They've probably never heard that word before.
"Halò, laddie!Care for a dram?"A burly man with a beard that could house small animals beckons me into a pub that looks older than most American cities.
"Uh, sure," I holler, uncertain of how to handle this unexpected kindness.
The bartender slides a tumbler of amber liquid across the worn wooden bar.I take a cautious sip, and the whisky burns down my throat in the best way.It's smoky, peaty, and unlike anything I've tasted before.I'm no slouch when it comes to knocking back a glass of hard liquor, but this stuff makes me cough."That's some strong stuff.I like it."
"What brings ye to our wee corner of the world?"the bartender asks, his thick brogue making me strain to understand him.
I hesitate, unsure of how much I should reveal.So, I go with vagueness."Just...exploring."
One thing I learned in foster homes was that a kid should never say too much.Though I'm not a child anymore, I can't seem to shake off the remnants of my past.
The bartender seems satisfied with my non-answer."Aye, plenty to explore 'round these parts.Mind yerself in the hills after dark.Strange things happen when the mist rolls in."
I raise an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself."Strange things?"
He leans in closer, whispering to me."Aye, laddie.The old ones say the veil between worlds grows thin in these parts.Some claim they've seen ghostly figures dancing in the mist or heard the wail of bagpipes when no piper was near."
I shake my head."Come on.Ghosts and magical mist?You don't really believe in that shit, do you?"
The bartender's eyes narrow, and for a moment, I worry I've offended him.But then he breaks into a hearty laugh."Believe?No, not me.But there are those who do, and who am I to say they're wrong?"He winks."Besides, it's good for tourism."
"Uh-huh.That sounds more believable than ghosts."
The man sitting on the next stool over leans toward me, crooking a finger."You would do well not to mock what ye dinnae understand, laddie.These lands are old, more ancient than ye can imagine.The magic here runs deep in the earth, in the stones, in the very air ye breathe."
I'm about to brush off his warning when a chill slithers down my spine.The pub suddenly feels colder, and the shadows in the corners seem to deepen.The other patrons have gone quiet, their eyes fixed on me with a strange intensity.I shift on my barstool, unable to get comfortable though I can't pinpoint why.Have I stepped into a Twilight Zone episode?
The burly man's intense gaze doesn't waver, and I find myself struggling to maintain my usual cocky demeanor.
