Chapter 7 #2
I’d chosen to walk, as the castle was just up the hill from my flat, and Gloam prowled the bushes near me as I strolled up the road.
Silver light trailed across the calm waters of Loch Mirren and once again my eyes were drawn to the perfectly circular island out in the middle.
Though I was one for the flowers and forest, there was something about the water that fascinated me.
Perhaps it was that same undercurrent of otherness that clung to Loren Brae’s underbelly, but I was certain that Loch Mirren held her secrets close.
Humming, I followed the perfectly manicured hedges that lined the drive up to the castle, and I let myself go loose.
That’s how my mum had always described it, when she dropped her shields and tuned into her magick.
It was almost like taking a pair of sunglasses off so you could see the light.
I did this now, just to confirm if what I’d been feeling was true.
While I couldn’t see magick, as I didn’t have that particular gift, I could feel it, pulsing gently across the hills and rolling down rocks that pebbled the shores of the loch.
In my mind’s eye, I envisioned it to be like a delicate spiderweb that clung to the buildings and trees, dewy and fresh after a misting rain.
Gloam made a soft yipping sound, a warning, and I pulled myself back, shuttering my magick, and looked for him.
He stood, his back rigid, his tail pointed straight, eyes focused into the hedges. Stepping close, I aligned myself with him, trying to see what had put him on alert.
“There’s something following us. Again.”
I didn’t respond to Gloam’s thought in my head, but held my breath, not daring to move or make a sound.
What did he mean by again? The wind tickled the back of my neck, and fine goosebumps broke out across my skin as my adrenaline kicked up.
I’d taken self-defense classes, which had then turned into a stint of Muay Thai training that I had fallen in love with.
Rocking backward so my weight was on my heels, I shifted slightly, bringing my hands up.
Golden eyes glimmered in the fading light and then they were gone.
Had whatever it was not blinked, I would have missed it entirely, as the breeze strengthened, sending the hedges rustling, blocking my vision. Straining, I leaned up, searching for what I’d seen, but I couldn’t get a read on anything.
“It’s gone.”
“What was it?” I glanced down to where Gloam bumped against my leg, his posture now relaxed.
“I’m … not sure, to be honest. I can’t get a read on its scent.”
“Human? Animal? Magick?”
“I don’t know.”
That was odd. Wasn’t it? Shouldn’t a fox be able to get a read on what was following us?
“You’re certain it was following us? Or was it just passing through?”
“Hard to say. But it’s gone now. Listen. You can hear the birds again.”
I paused, and realized he was right. The sounds of wildlife putting themselves to bed for the night had returned to the early evening air. A raven swooped over us, and landed nearby on a branch, cocking its head and studying me with its shiny brown eyes.
“Good evening, sir,” I said, automatically, as I pretty much talked to every animal that I met.
“Good evening.”
My mouth dropped open. This wasn’t Gloam’s voice in my head, but another. Deeper, with a rasp around the edges, like someone slowly ripping wrapping paper.
“Is that you speaking to me? Raven? What’s your name?” I glanced over my shoulder to make sure nobody was about. The last thing I needed was for people to hear me talking to animals.
“Murdoch.”
“Wait, Murdoch. Didn’t I treat you a few weeks ago? Are you with Kaia then?”
“I am.”
Confusion had me furrowing my brow. Could Kaia speak to animals too? Was Murdoch a familiar? If so, did that mean there were witches in Loren Brae? Before I could ask any of my questions, Murdoch took flight, swooping high above my head and disappearing over the top of the castle.
“Well, now, isn’t that interesting?” And exciting.
This new development gave me hope that for once I might be able to settle in one spot and stay a while.
Bolstered, I continued my walk up the drive, daydreaming about what color I’d paint the walls in my flat.
I’d never really decorated my home before, yet oddly enough I found myself endlessly watching videos on decorating and housing renovations.
It was the forbidden fruit, I supposed, that dream of settling down and making a cozy space for myself.
My last home I hadn’t even lasted three months before I’d been met with a knock late at night, angry men at my doorstep. It was an age-old story, and one I’d grown tired of, but self-preservation had me able to leave any place I lived within an hour.
Being misunderstood was tiring.
And my cross to bear.
Leaves rustled, Gloam yipped a warning, but it was too late.
A massive glowing Highland coo thundered from the bushes, bellowing, and despite my training with magick and self-defense, I shrieked and ran.
Pounding up the hill, I skidded to a stop in front of the castle as two dogs raced to meet me, a chihuahua and a corgi mix, barking with excitement.
An older gentleman, with bushy white brows, a newsboy cap pulled low over his shock of white hair, and faded denim trousers, stood with a shovel in hand and a smile on his face.
“Clyde get ya?”
“I … I have no idea what a Clyde is.” I brought my hand to my chest, and steadied my breath, trying not to look like a mad woman screaming up the hill to the castle doorstep. Gulping, I reached up to pat my hair and take a moment to settle myself.
I was one hundred percent certain that the coo that had just terrified me was a ghost. But I wasn’t about to admit that in front of this gentleman, a man I faintly remembered seeing pacing the halls last night during Edith’s delivery.
“Our resident ghost coo. He gets a real kick out of frightening guests. It’s like he learned how to ghost from watching television and now takes it as his sole responsibility to perform his duties correctly.”
I raised an eyebrow at the man, but he didn’t seem to be having me on.
“A ghost coo?”
“Aye, lass. Ye heard me.” The man’s bushy brows dropped and I realized it was best not to argue with him. “He’s right there.”
I glanced over my shoulder to where he gestured and found Clyde poking his head from the bushes, like a toddler peeking to see if his practical joke had worked.
“Bloody hell, you’re right. It is a ghost coo.” I shook my head, and now that I was no longer in a panic, I could find the amusement in what he’d done. One of the dogs, the chihuahua, caught sight of Clyde and took after him, his jaws contorted in a snarl.
“And they’re off. That’s Sir Buster and his sidekick is Lady Lola.” The man chuckled as the coo leapt from the bushes and the two dogs chased it across the expansive lawn, their excited barks reverberating across the hills. “They do this pretty much every night. It’s a great game for them.”
I couldn’t blame them, it looked to be grand fun to race around the gardens.
“I don’t think we’ve properly met. I’m Dr. Faelan Fletcher.” Turning, I held out my hand and was given a firm handshake in return.
“Archie. My wife, Hilda, and I are the castle caretakers. We’re pleased as could be about your help with wee Edith. She had us worried.”
Bemused, I tilted my head at Archie. I wouldn’t have suspected a man like him would be that invested in a hedgehog’s delivery.
“She did everything right. She’s going to be a great mum.”
“Aye, lass. I believe that to be true. Well, now, come on through. We’re just having a simple tea tonight in the lounge.
Leftovers from last night. Lia spoils us all with her cooking.
Don’t say anything, but once in a while it puts Hilda out a bit as she doesn’t have to cook as much as she once did. ”
“I won’t say a word.” Largely because I’d only met Lia, the owner of the castle restaurant, in passing last night.
“Welcome, again, to MacAlpine Castle.” Archie left his shovel by the door, wiped his boots on the mat, and ushered me inside.
“The castle was built in the 1600s and has always been occupied. Forty years ago, part of the castle was converted into a tourist attraction, in order to encourage more visitors to Loren Brae. This side of the castle has family and staff apartments, and the other has been turned into a historically accurate museum that reflects how life was once lived here, as well as displaying items and art from years past. It’s been quite popular, well, it used to be, that is. ”
At that, I glanced at him and caught a flash of frustration on his face.
Not feeling comfortable enough to ask him what he meant, I defaulted to silence as he led me down a stone corridor with electrical sconces that mimicked real flame torches.
Portraits of what I presumed were family members from days past lined the walls, and voices carried to us from an open doorway at the end of the hall.
Though Scotland boasted its fair share of castles and historical keeps, and I’d been to loads of them, I couldn’t help but admire the care for preserving the history here.