10. Chapter 10
We shopped throughout the town, which had a surprising number of camping and hiking supply stores.
“It’s because tourists come up here without realizing they would need all this gear. They buy tickets to Scotland and picture themselves strolling through groves of heather whilst petting Highland coos, completely forgetting that it’s cold and wet here,” explained Angus.
“Even in the summer,” said Caitlin with a smile.
Angus nodded in agreement. “Not unlike Boston. You keep your winter coat out until May.”
“Sometimes June!” I added.
We wandered through the shop. Caitlin bought waterproof hiking boots, and Angus bought a windbreaker. I bought wool socks and a water bottle. Like other tourists, I hadn’t planned on doing much hiking while planning my sister’s wedding.
The gift shops were full of local photography, paintings, and jewelry. One necklace stopped me in my tracks. It featured a deep green stone I didn't recognize. A pair of smoky quartz earrings lay near it. I picked them both up.
As I approached the register, the clerk smiled at me. “Lovely choice. Shall I gift wrap it for you?”
“Um, no thank you, they’re for me.”
“Lovely,” she repeated. “Do you know about the properties?”
“Properties?” Was she talking about real estate?
The clerk brightened, then leaned in conspiratorially. “Scottish marble. Protective stone—fishermen wore it for safe travel. Connects you with the natural world, if you’re ready for that.”
I smiled, and she continued. “It also can give a sense of stability and security. They can help one let go of stress and anxiety. This makes it useful for personal growth and finding positive relationships.”
Whatever I was thinking must’ve shown on my face because she laughed.
She pursed her lips. “Best to wear it straightaway, I think. It can’t do any harm, and this stone called out to you, so you should listen.”
I let her help me with the clasp as I put the necklace on. It did look good.
Curious, I nodded to the smoky quartz. “What about this stone?”
“Well, I mean everything has a vibration. Whether it’s a lump of coal or a diamond, there’s an energy.
These are smoky quartz, the national gem of Scotland.
It was a stone of power worn by the Druids and Celts.
It can dispel negative energy, provide protection, and help you bring your dreams and desires into reality. ”
All that from a pair of earrings from a gift shop?
“Here’s a little information that usually comes in the box.” She smiled brightly and wrapped it all in tissue paper before putting it in a beautiful purple bag with a thistle on it.
In the next shop, Caitlin tried on sweaters and capes, finally settling on an Isle of Skye tartan plaid. “This is so gorgeous, Abby! The purple represents the heather, greens are the peat moss, or maybe that’s the lochs and sea, I can’t remember. And the brown represents the Cuillin mountains.”
“I love it!”
Caitlin twirled around in her cape. “What time are we meeting Max for dinner?”
I checked my watch. “In about a half hour.”
“We should head over there, then.”
On the way over, we spotted a bookstore. Caitlin turned to Angus with puppy dog eyes.
He laughed. “Of course we have time.”
We opened the rustic wood door. Exposed brick on one side, wood beams overhead, walls of shelves—all clean, not a speck of dust. Cozy armchairs sat near a table with a little coffee pot and tea kettle.
Were the drinks free? A gray tabby cat sat curled in a window nook that had clearly been designed as its personal domain, complete with a plush cushion and a tiny stuffed Highland cow likely full of catnip.
We split up to browse different sections. I found myself in a section full of Scottish mythology and Celtic lore and didn’t surface for a while. I gathered an armful and set them on the counter, where a book about selkies caught my eye.
“I guess I’ll take that one, too.”
“Most people around here buy the guidebooks and hiking maps. You’re more of an indoor lass?” asked the shopkeeper, a curly haired older woman with stacks of crystal bracelets.
“I wanted to learn more about the local legends,” I explained.
“Ach, there’s plenty of that around here. Have you been to the Fairy Pools yet?”
I nodded. “And tomorrow we’re going to the Fairy Glen. What do you know about them?”
The shopkeeper smiled. “Oh, the Fairy Pools are swimming in old tales—the MacLeods and their fairy flag and such. The glen’s different though, just peculiar landscape. Never heard of trouble there.” She lowered her voice. “Still, locals give it a wide berth, just to be safe.”
“Safe from what exactly?”
“Nobody here would dream of taking an axe to a tree where the wee folk—the Good People, mind—might be about. And you’d be a right numpty to step into one of their circles.
” She shook her head. “These foreign companies come barging in, tearing up their land without a thought. Always ends poorly. Remember DeLorean? The car maker?”
I nodded. “Barely.”
“He built his factory on Fae land in Ireland. Made all sorts of changes.” She paused, letting the silence settle. “And I’m sure you know how that turned out.”
I hesitated, not wanting to admit my ignorance.
Curiosity got the better of me. “What happened exactly?”
She leaned across the counter. “When’s the last time you saw a DeLorean outside a film set?” she asked, one eyebrow climbing toward her hairline.
“Not once. I’ve only ever seen one in Back to the Future.”
“That’s right,” she said. “The Fairy Glen and Pools welcome visitors, but remember—whatever you bring there stays with you when you leave. They don’t take kindly to those who forget their manners.”
Between the warning and the magic stones, I was starting to wonder what else I didn't know about. Before I could ask, she handed me a small leaflet meant for hikers.
“Take this. It’s the Right to Roam law. Tells you how not to be a nuisance in the Highlands.
Don’t trample crops, leave gates as you found them, keep dogs leashed.
” Her voice dropped. “Mind the rules with everyone you meet out there. Human or otherwise,” she said.
“Up here you won’t always know which is which. ”
“Otherwise?”
With a wink, she opened my book on the Fae and tucked the pamphlet between specific pages, her weathered finger tapping twice on a paragraph I couldn’t quite see.
“Now, have a seat over there by the cat window while your friends finish up.”
I sat as instructed and opened to the page she had marked. It was about the rules for when a human encounters the Fae.
Rule 1: Fae, Good Folk, Fae Folk, The Others, The Wee Folk. Call them anything but Fairies. They don’t like that.
Rule 2: Never say “Thank you.” It implies you are in their debt, which you don’t want to do.
That can imply that you’ve entered into a contract with them.
Not a good idea. Apparently a “thank you” also implies they’re obligated to serve humans, which offends them.
Instead, say something like “I am honored by your generosity” or “Your kindness is appreciated.” Even better is to express gratitude via actions like leaving an offering.
Rule 3: They may try to lure you in with music. It’s hard to leave.
Rule 4: Don’t accept food or drink. You can get trapped there.
The rest of the rules were very much like the rules for hiking. Which kind of made me wonder who we might encounter on our hikes… or exactly who owned the lands where we’d be hiking.
Lost in thought, with the cat nuzzling against my arm wanting his cheek scratched, I startled badly when Caitlin and Angus appeared beside me, a book of wedding readings among their finds.
“What’d you get?” asked Caitlin.
“Oh, just some books on local lore and legends. Fun reads. Is it time to go?”
“I think we’ll be right on time.”