Chapter Eighteen
A s Marcus had predicted, less than an hour later Gille stood on the quarterdeck of the Cliodna with a compass in her hands. They were to sail to the south-east along the coast of the Isle of Skye, navigating through the waters of Loch Dunvegan and then into the open sea.
While she waited for them to get underway, her gaze shifted to Callum who helped prepare the ship for their departure, rolling up the rope ladder and securing it over the ship’s rounded deck edge. Alastair assisted the crew in raising and securing the anchor while Gwendolyn, Rowena, and Aria were below deck seeing to the supplies.
Marcus stood at the helm, shouting orders to his crew. Men dressed in blue and white striped shirts with red handkerchiefs tied loosely about their necks hurried across the deck in response to his commands, unfurling sails and tightening ropes. The ship lurched forward then picked up speed as the white canvas caught the wind, propelling them to the south-east.
When they were out in deeper waters, Pearl raised her hands from her position at the stern and with a chant as ancient as time itself, enchanted the water beneath them. The ship picked up speed, sailing swiftly around the receding coastline of Skye.
The wind whipped tendrils of Gille’s hair about her face and tugged at her skirt as Gille grasped the railing before her with one hand and drew the length of a MacLeod tartan Callum had lent her about her shoulders with the other. The ship rose and fell with the waves. Each downward motion brought a new surge of tangy sea spray over the bow of the ship. Just like the ship they were all pressing forward towards new horizons.
With a hand, Gille secured her hair to glance at the sun as it began its march across the sky. They had much to accomplish this day, but in keeping with her vow to remain positive, she had to believe that working together they would be successful.
With renewed hope, Gille leaned against the railing, relaxing into the moment, watching the endless greenish-black water that stretched before her. Instead of the disquieting feeling she would have expected, the isolation brought her a sense of peace. Gille closed her eyes. The stillness of the moment settled around her. She listened to the song of the wind stirring the sea. Very soon, the lyrics she needed would be hers and she could make plans for a future that extended beyond one more sunrise.
Gille thought back to her life a mere six days ago when she was trapped in the forest, alone. She opened her eyes and smiled. Despite the damage to the forest, she was happier now. Stronger, more positive, more in control of her life, and less consumed by her possibly imminent death. She had enjoyed her time with the MacLeods, with Callum. It was because of them and the friendship they extended that she had changed from the beast of the forest to the woman she was now—the adventurer sailing to find the last piece of the puzzle that would give her everything she had ever wanted. A family, love, and hope for her future.
Leaning on the railing, she gazed at the endless expanse of sea. The voices of the crew working below blended into a low steady hum. After a long while, Gille pushed away from the railing and went to join the others.
What should have taken them six or more hours to travel almost two hundred miles, had taken them less than five when the sheltered bay of Elgol came into sight. The sun had reached its zenith as the eight members of the travelling party climbed down the rope ladder and into a lowered boat. Gille clutched the knapsack in her lap that contained the moonstone and writing implements as they rowed towards shore.
“Just as I had hoped. We have arrived at low tide,” Marcus said, rowing them towards a promising inlet along the shore. “That gives us one hour, give or take, to find the cave and accomplish what we must.”
The search to find the cave was not difficult. As soon as they landed on the rocky beach and secured the boat, they saw a wider inlet with vertical sides that led to a cave in the distance.
“Careful,” Callum warned, taking Gille’s hand as they traversed the rocks, covered in slippery seaweed, to the cave’s opening.
“I have heard of this cave by its Gaelic name, Slochd Altimen , which means nursing cave. The cave itself does not flood, but the entrance fills with water and cuts off access in or out. If we become trapped, we will have to wait twelve hours until the tide drops again,” Marcus warned.
Gille’s heart pounded in her chest as she gingerly tested the stability of the rocks beneath her feet. They did not have twelve hours to spare. If they missed the tide, she would become a tree within the cave. Fear tempered Gille’s excitement. This was only one more challenge that they would overcome.
When they reached the cave, Gille saw two openings. The one on the right was filled with water, but the one on the left appeared above water, but was shrouded in darkness, its mouth yawning open like a gaping maw. “It is so dark,” Gille said with a frown.
A moment later, Alastair and Marcus lit two torches, then held them towards the opening. The flickering light illuminated the jagged walls and the inky darkness beyond. With a deep breath, Gille stepped into the cave, her heart pounding.
Callum followed close behind, as the torches cast dancing shadows on the walls. As they ventured deeper into the cave, the darkness seemed to swallow them whole, leaving them feeling small and insignificant in the cavernous space.
Initially, the cave was muddy, but as they followed the curve in the path, they found themselves in a vast cavern made of calcium carbonate. The ceiling of the cave was a breathtaking spectacle, adorned with a multitude of stalactites that hung like icicles frozen in time. Some were thin and delicate, while others were thick and imposing, their surfaces etched with intricate patterns. The light from the torches danced and flickered, illuminating the stalactites in a dazzling array of colours. It was as if they were gazing up at a celestial forest, each stalactite an upside-down looming tree reaching from the heavens towards the cave floor.
But to reach the stalactites beyond, they had to navigate a flowstone staircase. Although it looked slippery, it was surprisingly easy to ascend. At the top of the naturally formed staircase the cavern was a breathtaking sight, its walls adorned with intricate formations of rock and mineral. The air was cool and damp, carrying the scent of earth and stone.
Their torches flickered and danced, casting eerie shadows that seemed to writhe and contort. As they ventured deeper, they discovered a hidden chamber, its darkness pierced only by the faint glow of their torches. In the centre of the chamber was a small pool of crystal-clear freshwater, its surface shimmering like liquid silver. Beyond the pool, a narrow passage led to another deeper chamber, its darkness shrouded in mystery. The sight of these hidden pools and white limestone walls, illuminated only by the flickering torchlight, filled Gille with a sense of wonder and awe that soon slipped to concern.
She turned around, searching every white-coated surface before her. “I do not see writing on the walls of any of the chambers. And where are we supposed to place the moonstone?”
Callum frowned as, beside her, he searched the chamber. “The moonstone is a symbol of the moon and its celestial power. Perhaps we should place it near the pools of water because water is connected to the selkies.”
“Or, perhaps we should position it on one of these rock formations to help it shed its light on the hidden knowledge we need,” Aria added, moving to a rock that had a flattened surface the exact size of the moonstone in Gille’s knapsack.
Indecision coiled inside Gille. Both locations seemed appropriate. However, something deep inside told her Aria was correct. Since they could not see the words of the song, they would have to trust they were there, finding a way to illuminate them.
Gille opened the knapsack and removed the moonstone, then cupped it in her hand. With a deep breath, she stepped towards the rock formation. Carefully, she placed the rounded stone on the white ledge. As soon as the moonstone touched the surface, the walls of the cave began to vibrate and the stone cast dancing shadows on the cavern walls with a light of its own making. The glow intensified, illuminating the surrounding area with a soft, ethereal light.
As the light grew brighter, the words of the selkies’ song began to appear on the cavern walls, etched into the very fabric of the rock. The words seemed to glow with an inner light, as if they were alive and pulsating with energy. Gille’s heart raced with excitement as she gazed upon the ancient script, her eyes tracing the flowing lines. She imagined the words spoke of wisdom and knowledge of the sea.
Gille raced back to her knapsack, and clutching the ink, quill, and parchment inside, she quickly copied what she saw, just the shapes and scrolls of the words, as now was not the time to try to understand the archaic writing that might fade too soon. When she had finished, she studied the ancient script, and a new panic settled in her stomach. “We have what we need, but I cannot read a single word.”
“Perhaps I can help you.” Her mother came to her side, her eyes filled with a knowing smile. “I recognise the language. It is the ancient tongue of the selkies.” Pearl began to sing the words of the song, her voice carrying a haunting melody that echoed through the cavern. As Pearl sang, Gille felt a strange tingling sensation in her chest, as if the words were somehow resonating within her. When Pearl had finished, the glowing words faded, and the walls of the cave returned to normal.
“That is it then,” Callum said with triumph in his voice. “Is the curse broken?”
Gille’s chest tightened at Callum’s expectant gaze. “I feel no change. Nothing is different.”
“Perhaps there will be no change, as you are still the same person,” Gwendolyn offered.
“We might have to return to Dunvegan,” Pearl said. “Only once the song is sung with you, Minerva, and Lady Janet present will the magic change all of your fates?”
Callum nodded. “That seems a reasonable assumption.”
Gille agreed. “Then let us return there before we are trapped in this cave.”
“We have time,” Marcus said. “I have been monitoring the rising tide. The entrance is still safe for us to pass through.”
In silence, the others prepared to leave, but Gille turned back towards the moonstone, giving it one last look, before she joined the rest. She hoped the selkies would somehow gain access to the stone, and it would serve to protect them from losing their pelts to other humans who would never return the selkies to the sea.
A short time later, Gille stood on the deck of the ship. As the Cliodna turned away from the shore, a chilling sight caught her attention on the port side. “A ship!” Gille shouted, alerting the others who were busy unfurling the sails and preparing for their return voyage.
At the helm, Marcus lifted his looking glass, focusing on the quickly approaching vessel. “It is a British warship.” He pursed his mouth. “And her cannons are trained on us.”
Her heart in her throat, Gille clutched the railing as she suddenly saw cannons gleaming ominously in the afternoon sunlight. Panic laced through Gille, and Marcus and his men seemed bothered by the sight.
Marcus must have sensed her distress because he said, “This is not the first ship my crew and I have had to outrun. Go below deck. This is going to be a choppy ride home.”
“We will not fight them?” she asked, easing her grip on the railing.
“Taking on the British navy would not be wise if we want to return to Dunvegan in time.” Marcus offered her an encouraging smile. “I have express permission to be in these waters as a privateer. We can sort all that out, once you are safely returned to Dunvegan.”
“Thank you, Marcus,” she said as she moved from the quarterdeck to the main deck below. Despite Marcus’s assurances, the air was thick with tension as two cannonballs whistled through the air, narrowly missing the port side of the Cliodna . The crew seemed unrattled as they went about their duties, putting out more sails for speed, but Gwendolyn and Aria gasped, their faces pale with fear. Gille clutched the railing, her heart pounding in her chest.
Pearl, her eyes filled with determination, took her position at the stern of the ship. With a wave of her hand, she released a burst of magical energy that propelled the ship forward, leaving the British vessel trailing behind. The wind whipped through Gille’s hair as the ship raced across the water, the waves churning around them. The British ship pursued them, even if at a slower pace.
Five and a half hours later, the Cliodna returned to Dunvegan. The travelling party, minus Marcus and his crew, rowed ashore to finish what they had started earlier that day.
A large Beltane fire had been set along the beach but would not be lit until sundown. A glance at the horizon indicated that event would be no more than two hours from now.
When the travelling party landed on shore, they stepped out of the boat and hurried towards the castle. As they went, a rustle sounded as the birds left the trees for the sky. Gille stared at the horizon. Something did not feel right. She tried to push the feeling aside. Her task was to find Lady Janet and sing the song in the presence of Minerva before anything else could distract them.
The castle was silent, the air heavy with anticipation. But anticipation of what? A battle with the British ship seemed far more likely than Marcus had indicated when that ship caught up with the Cliodna , or were the residents of the castle busy preparing for the Beltane feast after they broke the curse?
“Something’s amiss,” Callum said beside Gille as they entered the very strangely empty castle through the rear door, echoing her earlier sentiment.
It was then that Gille heard the clashing of swords coming from the front courtyard. Callum’s hand moved to his sword as he and Alastair raced in that direction.
What had happened at Dunvegan while they had been gone?