"It's nothing to be proud of," Brendan snapped, his face cold. "You could have been killed."
It meant she was close to the cliffs, too, she thought with a quiet grin. She'd almost gotten there. If it hadn't been for the sheep… and for the monster stalking them… she sobered suddenly, looking up at Brendan as she realized what had just happened. "You saw it, right?"
His face went very still, emotion flickering in his eyes. The two guards on horseback exchanged uneasy glances with each other. It was pretty clear that all three of them had gotten a good look at the monster — if not by torchlight, then by the moonlight that was still pouring down on the moors, illuminating the uneasy flock of sheep that was creeping back towards their usual grazing area now that the monster was gone. "Yes," Brendan said finally, softly. "I saw it. Did you two?"
"Aye," one of the men said, his voice doubtful. "Couldn't tell you what it was for love nor money, though."
"Some kind of … bear?" the other guessed, but the tone in his voice suggested that was wishful thinking more than a real guess.
"Not a bear like any I've ever seen," Brendan said heavily. The four of them looked at each other silently on the windswept moor, clearly still processing what they'd seen. Not a bear. Not a pack of robbers.
But a monster, as plain as day.
Chapter 15
It wasn't long before their silence was broken again — this time by the distant calling of more voices. Helena tensed up a little, frightened that the monster was back… but the bobbing torch flames in the distance soon proved that it wasn't anything so frightening. Soon enough, they were joined by a handful of men — two more guards she recognized from the castle, both looking tired but alert, and a neatly if simply dressed man with a long staff in his hand who was casting a worried eye over the sheep that were steadily reclaiming their preferred grazing ground.
"I heard screaming," the man said, tilting his head. "Was that you, lassie?" He turned an eye to Brendan and the other two guards. "Ah, Brendan, good to see you again. More of you out here? Any leads on those brigands who've been preying on the flocks?"
"It's a long story," Brendan said heavily. "Helena, this is Oliver — the shepherd whose flock we've been trying to keep safe."
"Six lambs I've lost," the man said, shaking his head heavily. "It's a dreadful shame. But I'm glad to have the Laird's best men on the case." He shivered a little, looking around at the group. "What do you say we head inside to warm up? My home's not far this way. You're all welcome — you too, Lady Helena. I'd imagine with screaming like that my sheep'll be safe for the night at least. You can tell me what happened when we've warmed up by the fire a little."
Having been standing still a while, and with the adrenaline of the confrontation with the creature beginning to wear off, Helena was starting to shiver a little — the idea of a warm fire to sit by was very inviting indeed. Brendan nodded agreement, and the two guards slid down off their horses, leading them by the reins as the little group headed off into the fog. Oliver chatted as they walked, filling them in on the rather uneventful last few days — it seemed that the posted guards hadn't seen anything much on their patrols.
"Unfortunately, that didn't stop whatever it was from causing other sorts of trouble," Oliver said darkly. He led them through a gate that led to a winding path up to a beautiful little farmhouse — small, but neatly kept, and bright and warm in the sitting room where a fire still burned. Helena hid a grin as the guards awkwardly set about removing their helmets and armor enough to fit properly in the sitting room. Brendan offered her a seat close to the fire, which she took gratefully, lifting her hands to warm them by the heat of the fireplace's glowing embers.
"That's better," Oliver said happily when the four guards, Brendan and Helena were all seated comfortably around the fire. He was speaking in a low voice, and he tipped them all a wink. "The wife's off to bed already, you see, and so's little Mary. We'll be quiet, hm?"
"Where are the other guards?" Brendan asked, scanning the faces of the men around him curiously. "There were four posted out here — are the other two patrolling further out?"
"Ah," one of the guards said in a low voice, a look of worry on his face. "They went to have a look at the cliffs — interested in the rumors of the caves up there, thought that if there were brigands about they might be hiding in them."
"Good theory," Brendan said with a shrug. "Did they find anything?"
"We don't know," the guard said softly, and Helena could see the worry on his face. "They haven't come back yet."
"How long ago did they go?"
"More than a day, now. We were going to send someone after them, but…"
"We'll see to that later," Brendan said firmly, taking charge — but Helena could see that he was a little shaken, too. She couldn't help but feel a brief burst of smugness. She'd been right… there was something about the caves that was worth exploring. But somehow, it was a hollow victory… especially with how worried the guards looked about their missing colleagues.
"Tell us what happened out there, would you?" Oliver asked, leaning forward with curiosity. "Forgive my saying it, m'lady, but you were screaming up a storm out there. Something a little more dangerous than a spider, I'd warrant?"
She sighed, biting her lip. What was she supposed to tell him? That she'd seen an enormous monster? She hesitated — and Brendan took over for her. "We saw a creature, that's for certain," he said, shaking his head. "Possibly a bear, we think, but it was difficult to see with all the mist out tonight — and of course a cloud covered the moon right at the wrong moment."
"A bear? Haven't heard of any in Scotland for quite some time," Oliver tutted. "Still, that would make sense, what with how many lambs have gone missing."
The faces of the guards were impassive — Helena was impressed by how neutral their faces were. They'd seen the monster as clearly as Brendan or Helena had. They knew it was no bear. But it seemed Brendan had decided it was best not to frighten this shepherd.
"It's not just my flock either, I'll tell you. You've been talking with the other shepherds, yes? They've all lost a few. But it's my flock that's borne the brunt of it, for some reason."
"Why do you think that could be?" Brendan asked, leaning forward with a thoughtful look on his face. Oliver shrugged his shoulders, his face drawn. In the light of the fire, Helena could see that he wasn't as old as she'd previously expected. Out in the dark, he'd seemed in his forties or fifties — here, she could tell from the lines of his face that he was only thirty, perhaps even younger. And he looked worried — deeply worried — about what was happening to his sheep. They were his livelihood, she realized, a chill running down her spine. What would happen to him if they were all killed?
"Not sure, if I'm honest. There's no real difference between where I steer my flocks and where the others do. Lately I suppose mine've been partial to the grounds closest to the edges of those cliffs, but I can't imagine that making much of a difference. Unless you think the bear's holed up in a cave down there?"
A chill ran down Helena's spine and she looked sharply at Brendan, who was looking at her intently. They were clearly sharing the same thought — the caves, the sandstone caves she'd been so drawn to. Was it possible that they had something to do with all of this? Was it possible that this creature was taking shelter in those caves? In that case… what about the men who had been sent to investigate? There was a cold feeling in her stomach as she thought about them, riding out in the cold and the dark… and another shiver ran down her spine as she thought of the creature she'd seen in the mist. What could it have been? This was the second time she'd seen it, though it felt like the third, she thought, thinking of the dream she'd had, and it was getting harder and harder to dismiss it as her mind, or the mist, playing tricks on her… especially when she was coming to accept the fact that she'd been brought here to medieval Scotland by magic. Magic time travel was one thing… there was evidence for that. What evidence did they have for the monster, aside from eye
witness testimony, always a doubtful thing, and a few missing lambs?
"I do wonder," Oliver said hesitantly, and Helena was interested immediately in the worried look on his face — the look of a man who was about to bring something new to the table. Something he wasn't particularly thrilled about, judging by the worried look on his face. "I mean… I wasn't going to bring it up, I thought it might just be youths playing tricks, there's enough of that going about… lads from the village, you know how they are…"
"What's wrong, Oliver? Has something else happened?" Brendan leaned forward, looking concerned.
The shepherd bit his lip, eyes downcast. "There's something… I just wonder if you've ever seen bear tracks up close?"
Brendan frowned, but Helena could see where this line of conversation was headed… and she didn't like it. She shivered again, and shifted a little closer to the fire, trying to warm herself up even though she knew the temperature wasn't responsible for the way she was shivering. It was a little bit of shock, a little bit of the after-effects of adrenaline… but mostly, it was fear.
"Bear tracks? Well, only of those bears in captivity, a few times, I suppose. Have you seen any?"
"No, at least not unless…" Oliver said softly, and there was a look of real fear on his face. "I think you'd better come with me. Tread careful, mind," he added, rising to his feet. "Don't want you obscuring the tracks."
"Tracks?" Brendan got to his feet, giving Helena a quick look — she followed immediately, not wanting to be left out of this part of the investigation despite her fear. She was a part of this now, whether she liked it or not, and she was determined to follow it through. "What kind of tracks?"
"Bear tracks, I hope. Or… well, I hope not, if I'm honest. You'll see what I mean."
Oliver fussed about with a torch, lighting it and making sure the flame was strong before he stepped through the farmhouse door again, leading them back to the front yard where they'd come from. He lifted the torch high and set off down the side of the house, the light bouncing from the farmhouse's wooden walls and casting strange shadows as Brendan, Helena and the rest of the guards followed, their faces drawn with worry. Concerned about their missing friends, Helena would warrant, feeling a cold weight settle in her stomach. She hoped the men who'd gone to investigate the caves were okay.
"Here," Oliver said softly, gesturing at the ground. He'd deliberately led them past the house at a few feet of distance from the walls, and Helena could see why, now, as she turned her attention to the flagstones that made a path around the house. There, clear as day on the stone, were muddy footprints. But they didn't look like they'd been made by Oliver's boots, that was for sure. For a start, they were far too big — her eyes flicked from his boots to the prints, comparing. They were at least six inches longer than his foot, these tracks, and there was something about the shape that was off, too. It was more or less comparable to a human foot — the toes at the top, the heel at the back, the shape of the ball of the foot and the arch… but there was something monstrous about it, too. A kind of twisted, warped quality to it, as though the creature's feet had been twisted by some force before it had left the tracks.
Almost human, but not quite… she was put in mind of something Bec had told her once, during a phase of her life when she was incredibly interested in CGI and animation. The Uncanny Valley, she called it… a kind of artistic design that was so close to human that it was frightening. Humans weren't frightening, and non-humans weren't frightening… but there was a point somewhere in between that terrified humans unreasonably. Bec had explained, late at night in a way that had sent a chill down Helena's spine, that the reason for this was probably evolutionary… that humans were frightened of things that almost seemed human, but not quite, because that description usually matched corpses.
The mud the tracks were made of was dry, at least, indicating that whatever had left them had done so some time ago. Brendan had clearly noticed that as well — he'd squatted by the tracks to scrutinize them intently, Oliver obediently holding the torch close, so he had enough light to see by. The guards, too, had gathered behind him, but there was a wariness in their movements, as though they were reluctant to get too close to the tracks… especially, Helena noticed, the two guards who had been riding with Brendan when he'd chased off the creature that had been threatening her. Whatever it was. There was no immediate evidence that that creature had been the same creature that had left these tracks… but Helena couldn't help but compare the tall, shambling creature to these tracks, and draw some uncomfortable conclusions.
"How long have these been here?" Brendan wanted to know, his face drawn and a worried look lingering in his eyes as he scrutinized the tracks.
Had he noticed how strange and twisted they were? They weren't bear tracks that was for sure. Helena would bet everything she had on that.
"We're not quite sure," Oliver said heavily, shaking his head. "Mary noticed them this morning — though I'd been playing with her."
"Mary is Oliver's little daughter," Brendan explained to the group absently. "How old is she now?"
"Five, bless her heart." The smile that crossed Oliver's face was soft and loving, and Helena realized with a private smile that Brendan had deliberately brought the girl up to calm the man down a little. Clever of him. He clearly doted on his little girl. "And she's quite a handful. Followed the tracks all the way around the house. Thought it might lead her to a buried treasure or something, can you believe it. The imagination on the girl."
"You said the tracks go all the way around the house?" Helena asked, feeling worry clutch at her chest. "Can you show us?"
They continued around the house in a group, all careful not to tread on the tracks. Sure enough, the tracks continued at regular intervals around the house… with the exception of the windows. They paused at the window to Oliver's daughter's room, the shepherd lifting a finger to his lips to tell them to be quiet. Brendan and Helena stared down at the tracks. They were disturbed here — they seemed to turn a little, moving perpendicular to the house instead of parallel… for all the world as though the creature had turned to stare through the window.
Brendan was clearly drawing the same conclusion as Helena — he looked at her, worry on his face, as she felt fear clutch at her stomach. The creature had stood right here for who knew how long — staring in at the sleeping child in her bed. What did that mean? Was it growing tired of lambs… wanting to move on to a different kind of baby animal for its meals? She felt panic start to rise, felt the darkness closing in around her… and shook herself firmly, trying to get a grip. If she was going to help with this investigation, she had to keep her wits about her. None of them could afford for her to start getting scared of the dark.
The tracks continued right around the house, then disappeared — seemingly the creature had grown bored and stepped off the stone. It was hard to tell where the tracks went — they disappeared into the grass of the yard, and Brendan heaved a heavy sigh as he looked back at Oliver.
"Could be bear tracks," he said — but Helena could tell from Oliver's face that he didn't believe him, as much as he might have wanted to.
It was no bear that had peered through his daughter's room in the middle of the night. It was something else. Something worse. Something, Helena thought with a shiver, that she really didn't want to see ever again. But she had the feeling that she didn't have a choice in that.
Chapter 16
It was getting late now, and Helena could feel weariness creeping up on her… as well as a pounding headache as the wine she'd drunk finally made its presence felt in the beginnings of a hangover. The farmhouse had a couple of spare rooms — Brendan and the guards took them, with Helena insisting on sleeping by the hearth in the sitting room, wanting to be close to the fire. She claimed it was because she didn't want to get cold, but the truth was that the light was the only thing stopping her from panicking completely about the horrible monster stalking through the mist out there. It was getting harder and harder to
dismiss the creature as just a hallucination or a dream… especially when it was so dark outside, and when the mist was pressing so closely up against the house…
Oliver brought her blankets and pillows aplenty and she made herself a nest by the fire, but not before stocking it up with wood that should hopefully keep it burning through the night. She'd had some water to drink, but she still felt unpleasantly hungover, and though the warmth of the fire was welcome in the cold of the night, not to mention its cheery light, she still felt sticky and uncomfortable as she settled herself down to sleep. Still, the day's exertions caught up on her quickly, and it wasn't long before she was half-asleep, dozing and sleeping by turns as the night wore on. It wasn't the most restful sleep she'd ever had… she kept stirring from her rest, disturbed by half-formed dreams of a monster creeping around the edges of the house, a monster with long, metallic talons and jet black eyes…
But she must have gotten some real sleep, because she could remember walking through the mist inside the cave again, as she had in her dream that first night. She was lost, it felt like, but she was also searching for something or someone… fear and grief were warring with each other deep in her chest, and though she wanted to call out for whoever she was searching for, she had the strangest feeling that she didn't know what name to call. All the new names she'd learned over the last few weeks were spiraling through her mind… Brendan, Donal, Colin… the names of all the women she'd met… Jamie's name, even, and Oliver and his little daughter Mary… but none of the names were right. None of them were the name she wanted to call, the person she needed to find here, in the depths of this awful cave, surrounded by mist and grief, loss, and confusion…
Strangely enough, it was laughter that woke her. She opened her eyes slowly, disoriented by her surroundings, for a moment not remembering where she was… there was an unfamiliar hearth in front of her, strange bricks surrounding it. Helena sat up, wincing a little as the lingering ache in her head reminded her of all the wine she'd drank the day before… and jolted in surprise as she realized a child was standing a few feet away, head tilted curiously to the side. A small girl, maybe four or five years old — she'd never been any good at guessing the ages of children — with pale blonde hair and a pair of enormous blue eyes. She was very cute — something that was added to by the teddy bear that was tucked under her arm. And there was a cheeky grin lingering on her face as she peered thoughtfully at Helena.
Highlander Hunted: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Highlander In Time Book 8) Page 12