“Miss Mackin doesn’t know about the artifact site. She’s here strictly to help keep Simon focused,” Brian said. “We’re looking to make a significant breakthrough since Simon might have found a way to open the portal.” Brian looked at the black nylon shoulder brace in place of his missing limb. “Safely, this time,” he added.
“You make sure that one doesn’t get in the way, or we’ll send her packing.” Fraser pointed to the door where Karen passed through. “It’s bad enough we have the other girl to deal with, it’s not something that comes cheap.”
“For now, we’re focused on opening the portal. If we need a test subject, maybe we can use the other American.”
Simon didn’t speak. He remembered the sensation of an arm suddenly evaporating into nothingness. Wherever it went, the limb joined Phoebe and her daughter, Harper.
“What did the police want?” he asked.
“They’re still looking for the Americans,” Fraser said.
“I don’t know why you let them into the compound,” Brian said.
The two of them left the lounge. Simon had to pick up his feet to catch up to the men walking away. They moved through the corridors talking amongst each other without looking back at Simon or including him in their conversation.
“That inspector, she’s a looker,” Fraser said. “They need to know who’s in charge here. You’ve got your lawyers all locked up for protection. But the minute they get a warrant to get in here, your solicitors in Edinburgh can’t protect you.”
They went through a set of security doors. Brian used his pass and key code. Simon followed before the door closed between them. The closer to the mound, the colder the hallway, and Simon felt it in his bones. There was a part of him lost somewhere on the other side of the portal. It beckoned him. Every step leading to the fairy mound and the ancient rune symbols etched in stone, the more Simon felt that limb tugging on his shoulder.
“Eight years ago, you called me for security into something that wasn’t possible. I didn’t believe it. I’ll take your money if you want me to kidnap your grandmother. I don’t care.”
Brian used the passkey again. The doors opened to the chamber. Simon felt the cold air rush to meet him. It was as if the grave opened to him. He hesitated before following the men to the platform overlooking the excavated site.
Fraser motioned to the external wall to the left. “We’ll have crews begin tunneling from the outside. We’ll shore up the housing and reinforce the roof. We should get access from outside before Saturday night. If you get your hole open, we’ve got everything to sustain us on the other side.”
Fraser looked at Simon like he was better than the scholar. Simon had years of education and experience behind his work. He wasn’t a scientist, but Brian needed him. Unfortunately, Equinox needed Fraser, too.
“What do you have planned to get the portal open again?” Fraser asked.
They were three men alone inside the mound. Brian didn’t bring back the physicists or the computer personnel. He had everything remotely monitored. Logistically, it was more accessible and more economical to keep a small staff at the satellite location. That was Simon’s responsibility following Phoebe entering the portal.
“We’re going to need you to handle something in Eskdale,” Brian said. “It needs discretion. Harper and Phoebe Biel have relations in the town. We’ve collected dossiers on each of them.” He looked at Simon. “The theory is that the Weatherspoons lived here for generations. There’s some link between them and the mound. Simon thinks using them, bringing the bloodline back into the mound, will sufficiently open the portal.”
Fraser didn’t answer right away. He leaned against the steel railing with his arms folded over his chest. Simon looked away, staring over the man’s shoulder. Even when he wasn’t verbally insulting Simon, Fraser mocked him through obvious things Simon could no longer do for himself.
“You want to kidnap a family and bring them into the mound?” Fraser said.
“Three people,” Brian said. “There’s a mother, a grandmother, and a son, all live right down the road, less than ten minutes away.”
“You think we should take them on a school outing, and if it doesn’t work out, we can take them home again and not say a word? Are you trying to keep this secret or tell the whole world?” Fraser shouted.
He shook his head, considering the possibilities.
“They live at the inn. You can take them at the same time,” Brian said.
“What happens afterward?” Fraser asked. “What do you do with them?”
“I don’t care. You can make it look like an accident. The world’s not going to care about three random people once the gateway opens.”
“Fire, that’s how to get rid of three people,” Fraser said.
“Ghastly.” Simon shook his head.
“You, cripple, you complaining about something?” Fraser stepped up to Simon’s face. “I took care of your crap the last time you decided to play doctor with the American bird. I get paid to clean up other people’s poor choices. I do the job because you people leave things behind.”
Brian wanted to get Fraser back on track. “The whole world will know when I get this open. Do you know what people will pay to pass through the portal into Elphame?”
“Elphame, what’s that?” Fraser asked.
“It’s the realm of the fairies,” Simon said.
“What, you think this portal is a gateway to Neverland?” Fraser thumbed over his shoulder.
“It’s a metaphor,” Brian said hurriedly. “We’re talking about ancient people who didn’t understand what they had when the wormhole opened permanently. For whatever reason, these people decided to cut off the gateway, they buried it deep in the dirt, covered it so much they made an obvious mound out of it. Then they charged a family for generations to sit here and wait, guarding the place, keeping people away.”
“Then you came and bought it.”
Brian nodded. “I came here for years with my family. We took holidays in the Highlands. My father wanted us to feel something for the birthplace of or family. I didn’t want anything to do with it. Then I found this place.
“We came here when I was eight years old. That’s when I saw the power of the portal for the first time. I watched wayward sheep stumbling in and out of the side of the mound like it wasn’t there. They went to eat grass, and they passed through the portal.”
“What? They just went through the hillside?”
Brian nodded.
Fraser frowned. He looked from Brian to Simon and back again. “Did anything ever come back? I’m not spending the rest of my life in some knockoff Scotland that don’t have internet or strip clubs.”
“Come, let me show you,” Brian said. He moved to the door and opened it. “You coming?” he asked.
Simon stood on the platform. There were a lot of reasons he wanted to stay behind. Fraser was an obnoxious idiot who didn’t care about anything except money. A place like Elphame wasn’t for someone like that man. But it wasn’t Simon’s decision. So far, Brian needed Simon. He was worried that once the portal opened, Simon would no longer have a purpose for Equinox Technologies.
“I don’t care to see that thing again,” Simon said.
He wanted to find Karen. He wanted the company of someone who took a particular interest in him. When Fraser followed Brian from the chamber, Simon stared at the stone floor below. The symbols, the spectacle, it was the human way of making sense of the world. Magic met science. The portal was a stable connection from this world to something else. It was a viable, breathing atmosphere with its own ecosystem. Fraser was about to meet one of the creatures from Elphame. Grazing sheep fell through the portal from this side, while animals that evolved differently in Elphame found their way into Scotland.
Ancient people called them fairies, creatures of the Elphame were unlike anything human
kind understood. Simon knew that throughout cultures all over the world, people had their own geographical versions of fairytale creatures. Most people knew about leprechauns and winged fairies and unicorns. No physical evidence supported the lore, separating fact from fiction. But Simon understood animals of Elphame entering Scotland likely met the same fate as the beast Fraser was about to meet.
Humans, the reigning dominant being on the planet, knew how to destroy and kill anything they didn’t understand. Likely, the alternative Scotland, Elphame, had billions of new and different species of animals that people thought were creatures of fantasy. But Simon knew better. He didn’t want to see the monster Brian had caged. It gave Simon nightmares. But a man like Fraser, he needed humbling. One look at the beast and he’d understand why they needed an army to enter Elphame.
Bean Nighe
The small collection of huts was the perfect shelter from the elements, but I had overstayed my welcome. The sudden disappearance of Ghillie Dhu gave me the creeps. It made it impossible for me to sleep on the ground, thinking I’d wake up buried in the dirt. I didn’t want to think about what Ghillie fed me when he shared his porridge. And I didn’t believe Clan Slora wanted me hanging around waiting for their return.
I faced the real possibility of starvation. Water wasn’t the issue. But there was only so much water I could drink, and it didn’t do me any good to fill the hungry void in my belly.
I found a high hillside to scan the rest of the quiet countryside that rang in my ears. I wasn’t used to so much open space without machinery. The deep blue sky had wispy gray clouds. It was a landscape free of any electronic sound, no industrial intervention. The closest I saw to human artistry was in the forging of the weapons. Even the stone and mud huts were primitive but practical.
Well, that wasn’t true. I pulled the dirk from my jacket pocket. The carvings on the handle and cover demonstrated refined craftsmanship. With a turn of the wrist, the blade unlocked from the sheath and pulled free. I had a knife and nothing to use it on, with no experience in hunting or fishing. I was a forager at best. I still had a few months before elderberries, white currants, blackcurrants, and blackberries came into season. Yup, I was doomed. I pressed my thumb against the edge of the knife and winced.
I saw plenty of people do that in the movies without the knife biting the skin. Now, I had a thin beading line from the slice in my thumb.
“At least, it will take my mind off being hungry,” I said.
I heard the rustling of low bushes in the hills, and I thought I saw the black swish of a long tail.
“And I suppose you’re waiting around for me to die so you can chew on my bones,” I said. “Cat Sìth, ha! Bet you thought I couldn’t say it!”
I thought about Ghillie Dhu, the friendly old man who sank into the dirt in the hut. I thought about his cryptic talks of Nicneven, a queen who wasn’t the queen of men. All the while, thinking about the things I learned since I left my time, I slowly made my way out of the small hamlet. I went in the opposite direction as Clan Slora, but not back toward the way I started.
The chatter of birds was a welcoming sound because it reminded me that I wasn’t completely alone in the alien world. I wasn’t utterly alone—not when I had birds and the giant Scottish panther stalking me.
I spent the day walking from the higher elevations. My thighs burned. When nightfall neared, I saw the shimmering pool that had steam rolling from its surface. Still a mile off from the site, I made it my destination. I figured that it offered more water and would be a great place to make camp before another day began.
I stopped to rest my feet on level ground. I found a protruding rock near the steaming water. I heard water gurgling over the stones that fed the pool. Vegetation grew in profusion around the water, and I put my hand in it as the sunlight finally hid behind the distant mountains. The bottom of the pool was visible. Rocks, sediment, no underwater plants, and the water hot to the touch—I had found a hot spring in the middle of nowhere.
“Well, I’ll take that as a sign of good fortune,” I said. Again, I wasn’t one to talk out loud, not to myself. I figured if the Cat Sìth hadn’t attacked and disemboweled me by nightfall, it’d wait until I fell asleep.
I started a fire. It was my first fire ever. It wasn’t easy, and it took a long time. I got exhausted doing it. But I had seen a movie where a guy got stuck on an island. He ate coconuts and talked to his ball. He started a fire using tinder-like coconut husks and rubbing a stick. I found dry, dead leaves and grasses under the bushes around me.
I sat cross-legged on the ground and finally managed to make fire the old-fashioned way. I was proud of myself. Afterward, I was satisfied knowing that I had heat, light, I was tired, sweaty, and above it all, I had a hot spring at my disposal.
Under the cover of darkness, I decided taking a hot springs bath was the way to die. I’d be clean when the animals started chewing on my bones.
I stripped out of my dirty clothes. I knew I’d have to wear dirty clothes again, but who cares when you’re walking around waiting for death to find you?
I waded into the hot springs pool. The silt underfoot was silky between my toes. It was deep enough for me to kneel, and the water went up to my chin. I let my arms drift in the steaming water. It was better than the sauna at the gym in Ithaca. I scanned the shoreline around the pool. Nothing but moss-covered stone and flowing steam, I had the place to myself. My small campfire gave me a sense of satisfaction. I didn’t feel completely helpless.
My boots, pile of clothes, and the dagger all waited on the shore. I dipped my hair into the water, ran my fingers against my scalp, and leaned back. I let out air from my lungs and allowed the water to pull me under.
The popping in my ears from air bubbles cleared the passages. I kept water out of my nose and mouth. The last thing I wanted was a brain-eating ameba to ruin the rest of my long days.
Coming up for air, I gasped. I wiped my face quickly, thinking I had imagined it. Eyesight clear, I saw a figure squatting at the water’s edge.
Tendrils of long, gray-black hair cascaded over the kyphotic hunch under the ragged layers of ancient dress. Much like the material Ghillie wore, the garment looked like something made from the earth.
The older woman didn’t look at me as she kneeled in the pool. She folded her feet under her bottom and reached for my clothes. First, she lifted the jacket and examined it. In the firelight, the bloodstains on the front looked like spills of black ink.
One by one, the old woman began separating my clothes. I stayed low in the water. I wasn’t that far away from the campfire, but since she didn’t look my way, I didn’t know if she saw me. I considered since she was old and decrepit, if push came to shove, I could take an old lady in a fight.
She removed the dirk from the jacket pocket. There was no interest in the weapon. The old lady dropped it on the shore and dipped my jacket into the hot spring.
“Um, hello?” I said.
Small hands with swollen knuckles stopped scrubbing the nylon jacket in the water. Milky gray eyes scanned the water’s surface from under a cowl of frizzy gray hair.
“That’s my jacket,” I said. I wanted to sound non-threatening. The lady lifted the jacket from the water as if to show me. Her fists twisted with rheumatoid arthritis. “Can I have it, please?”
“It is filthy,” she said. Her voice was almost dusty with age. But even with the thick accent carved around the words, I still understood her. “This is blood.”
“I know, yes.” I smiled and moved closer to shore. I saw her eyes dart to the sheathed dirk to her right. She had access to my clothes, the deerskin blanket, and the water bladder.
Perhaps it was a local custom to wash a stranger’s clothes. She let the jacket stay in the water for a few seconds as I moved closer to shore. I was embarrassed by my nakedness, even though she was a woman, and I didn’t have anything she hadn’t seen bef
ore. Still, I felt vulnerable. As far as I saw, she was alone with me. Even naked, I thought I could take her in a fight if it came to that.
“It’s not some custom around here that you’re claiming my clothes because you thought I abandoned them on the shore, is it?” Stranger things, as I was well aware, had already happened.
There was a hint of a smile from her leathery face. Thin, pale lips stretched wide over the toothless mouth. I saw the shriveled, fuzzy face watching me climb out of the water. I reached for the shirt.
“It is my pleasure,” she mumbled. “None to wash for now.”
The old woman lifted the jacket from the water. I felt the bite of nighttime Scottish air. She held the coat out to me. I took it to put it on. And I stopped.
It was dry. It was spotless, the bloodstain from my wounds completely gone.
“Wait, how did you do that?” I asked.
Without answering, the old woman pulled my hooded sweatshirt from the pile and dipped it in the pool. At the water’s edge, she continued to work, her hands scrubbing the material of the long-sleeve shirt, water soaked into the material. I pulled on the jacket. It felt as if fresh from an electric dryer.
I squatted near the rest of my clothes. I reached for the dagger, but she didn’t stop me from picking up the weapon. The woman concentrated on the sweatshirt. I knew the property of a cotton sweatshirt. It got incredibly dense when wet. I knew that from wearing it for days. It stank like sweat and campfire. Washing clothes meant water, soap, and a little elbow grease when done manually. She had two out of three, and I thought it counterintuitive to wash something only to have it pull free of the pool dry and warm.
“This is impossible,” I said. There was a look of extreme satisfaction on her face. She handed me the sweatshirt. I brought it close to my face and inhaled. Bone dry, warm to the touch, it had a scent like the world around me—clear, uncluttered with pollution. “How is this possible?”
Highland Tales Series Box Set Page 16