The Stone of Destiny

by Caroline Logan

  “My name is Iona.” Her voice was still wavering in the aftermath of her crying. She gestured down at the seal. “This is Harris, my brother.” She placed her hands in front of her and looked expectantly at Ailsa.

  Ailsa’s heart sunk at the word ‘brother’ as she tried to make sense of what the woman—Iona—had just said.

  “Ailsa MacAra,” she croaked out in response, offering a hand for the woman to shake. Iona’s palm was soft, lending more credit to Ailsa’s theory about her background. Ailsa wondered numbly if she should shake the seal’s flipper too.

  The girl just nodded and went back to stroking the animal’s muzzle.

  I’ve saved a crazy woman. She gave an exasperated grunt and set about building the fire back up again. She didn’t think she wanted to ask about the seal until she was at least a little warmer.

  Ridding herself of blood as best she could, Ailsa stared into the flames, thinking about what has just happened on the beach. The wooden longships were clearly searching for something. It was odd for the Avalognians to be so far south, though. There were no villages for miles; exactly how Ailsa liked it. Why were they here? She got the feeling that it definitely had something to do with this girl and her ‘brother’.

  She turned to ask Iona her questions but the words died on her lips. The woman still sat huddled near the fire but instead of a seal in her arms, there was a man. Or rather, the man’s head, as he was quite a bit larger than the seal had been.

  Chapter 3

  The man’s head, like the woman’s, was covered in a mass of flaming red hair. He was completely naked but, thankfully, the fire’s light did not reach his more intimate areas. He clutched his side where his skin was sliced, yet his cut was somewhat smaller than the seal’s had been.

  It was Ailsa’s turn to scream, but the sound struggled to escape her throat.

  “What the hell is this?” she cursed, holding her neck as she stared at the sight in front of her.

  “I’m sorry,’ said Iona sympathetically, “This is my brother—”

  Again, there was a twinge in Ailsa’s heart, but she did her best to smother the feeling.

  “—he didn’t have the energy before,” Iona continued, “But now that he’s healed a bit, this is his human form. He’s much easier to transport as a seal, so it was rather good luck,” she laughed, gazing at the man in her arms and ruffled his curly hair.

  “But I am much better looking as a man,” he smirked, speaking for the first time. His voice had a mocking edge and his eyes danced with laughter, despite the pain that he must still be in from his wound.

  When Ailsa looked at his side again, it resembled a weathered scar more than a slash. “You’re selkies?” she breathed.

  “Yes, dear,” Iona said slowly, as if trying to soften the news.

  Ailsa gripped her axe tighter. In the back of her mind, a little part of her was screaming. She should have known better than to help a strange, wailing woman clutching a bloody seal! From what she had heard about selkies, they would change from their seal forms into lovely creatures in order to lure humans to watery deaths, before feasting on them with their sharp, little teeth. But the two people sitting in front of her just looked sad and cold. That could be a trick, she told herself, edging away from the fire. Ailsa did her best to look like she was shifting for comfort, bringing her feet underneath her so she could jump up at a moment’s notice.

  “Are you going to drag me to the ocean and drown me?” she asked.

  She wasn’t prepared for the bark of laughter that the man, Harris, let out as he surveyed her.

  “Calm down, lass. I believe you were the one dragging us away from the ocean,” he chuckled. His side—miraculously—was now completely healed.

  The screaming in Ailsa’s ears went up an octave.

  “I promise you we don’t want to harm you,” soothed Iona. She held her hands out in pacification. “You saved our lives and we are very grateful to you.”

  “Also,” laughed Harris. “I don’t know what stories you’ve heard, but I detest the taste of humans—too fatty and smelly, like sour milk.” His mirthful eyes left hers to travel over her body. “Though you do look tastier than average,” He wiggled his eyebrows at Ailsa. “Maybe I’ll break my rule?”

  “Behave yourself,” Iona said, cuffing her brother on the ear.

  Ailsa was too stunned to react. She still held her axe close to her body as she studied them.

  “I’m confused and, honestly, I’m considering whether to fight you or run.”

  Iona smiled. “I’m sure that you could overpower us in no time. Please just allow us to stay the night. We won’t hurt you.”

  At first, Ailsa had felt the need to protect this woman; she had thought her weak and in danger. Now she felt the roles had been reversed. Still, Iona seemed genuine and kind.

  Ailsa looked at Harris, who pouted at her, eyes wide in mock pleading.

  The brother on the other hand, she thought, could do with a smack.

  “Fine,” she drew in a deep breath and then fixed Harris with the best glare she could muster under the circumstances. “But for all that’s holy, will you please cover yourself up?” She chucked a blanket in his direction. He caught it, wrapping it around himself while he chuckled. Iona grinned gratefully at her and edged closer to the fire.

  “Here, I have another,” said Ailsa, throwing another blanket in the seal-woman’s direction. Ailsa rubbed her hands together, in an effort to get some warmth into them. “You might want to change your clothes too, since they’re wet from the rain and a bit manky from all the blood,” she said, trying not to wrinkle her nose.

  “Are your clothes wet?” Iona tilted her head and looked at her with large eyes. When Ailsa nodded, she chuckled. “I can fix that.”

  Ailsa wasn’t sure what to expect when Iona lifted her hands. The water soaking her shirt and trousers sluggishly beaded on the surface of the fabric. Then, like rain in reverse, each drop of water rose into the air and hung suspended above her head. Iona did the same for her own clothes, taking most of the mess off with the liquid. Then with a twist of her hand, she hurled the water out of the cave.

  “How did you—” Ailsa started.

  Iona looked pleased by her awe. “Selkie magic. We can control water; well, the females can.”

  Ailsa turned to Harris, who didn’t seem too put out.

  “It’s okay, I have other talents. Great looks. Good instincts. Nice hair. I can lick my elbow. Want to see?” He grabbed his right arm in his left hand and contorted his body.

  “No, it’s fine,” Ailsa cut him off. He shrugged his shoulders as if to say ‘your loss.’”

  Once all the water had left her clothes, Ailsa felt warmer. The fire’s heat enveloped her skin, almost too hot. At exactly the same time, both women wrapped their blankets around their own shoulders. The selkie smiled at her and, after a moment, Ailsa returned the gesture.

  It was beginning to get dark outside. Ailsa was suddenly exhausted, the adrenaline from the fight leaving her system. Her eyelids felt like they were being pulled down by heavy bags. She subtly grabbed her axe and pack, scooting to the side, so that she was a more comfortable distance from these strange creatures.

  “If I go to sleep, will you murder me?”

  “No, dear,” whispered Iona, “I promise that you will wake feeling rested and with all of your body parts,” Iona giggled. “I suppose that is the least we can do for you.”

  When Ailsa looked at her sceptically, she held her hands up in front of her.

  “A selkie’s promise can’t be broken.”

  “I won’t even have a taste until you are wide awake again,” joked Harris.

  Ailsa gave him a dirty look and sank into her nest of blankets. The siblings lay down side by side and fell asleep quickly. She stayed awake for some time, watching their bodies, waiting for them to attack her. Eventually, the gentle rise and fall of Harris’s chest made her feel safe enough to risk closing her eyes. Still hugging her axe, Ail
sa’s body relaxed bit by bit and she drifted into deep oblivion.

  Chapter 4

  “Never go into the woods by yourself.”

  “Why?”

  “There are all manner of ghouls and spirits in the forest, child, ready to take you away.”

  The children sat cross-legged on the floor and stared at the old woman with a mixture of fear and excitement. This was the best time of the day, when their parents took them to the little cottage in the middle of town. None of them were sure if they were related to the woman, but it didn’t matter. Everyone knew each other in their village; everyone was family. They all called her Seanmhair, Grandmother.

  “Have I ever told you the story of the faeries, my loves?” The old woman’s face crinkled into a smile at the sight of six eager faces, ready for the story. It was why they had come after all. She put down her mending and arranged herself on the chair, fluffing up the pillow behind her, ready to begin.

  “Before you were born, before peace came to Eilanmòr, our people lived far apart and faced great dangers whenever they left their homes. No one went out at night, for that was the time that the faerie queen, Nicnevan, held her court.”

  The children at her feet pressed closer together. They loved scary stories.

  The old woman continued. “Nicnevan was the most magnificent female in the world. She had hair golden like wheat and a laugh that could dazzle princes and beggars. But her temper was also great. For hundreds of years, she ruled these lands and punished those that disobeyed her, both human and fae alike.” The woman fluttered her fingers at the children and they gasped in horror and delight.

  “She was fond of the dark and the woods and the creatures that dwelt there. And so, these monsters were allowed to roam free between human villages and settlements, spreading disease and bad fortune, until one day, the good fae disobeyed her. They stole something very precious from her and she flew into a rage. She was so distracted by her anger that she did not notice when a mortal man crept into her court. He chained her to a willow tree with iron manacles and magic, trapping her. Faeries are weakened by iron, so Nicnevan could not use her powers on the man. Since then, Eilanmòr has been at peace.

  “However, to this day Nicnevan is still out there, waiting to break free and seek revenge. Though the good fae have abandoned her, sinister monsters still serve the evil faerie queen. They wait in the forests and caves, ready to snatch any humans that come their way. If they find you, they will take you to Nicnevan and there you will be trapped with the nightmares of this world.”

  There was a collective shiver amongst the children and the old woman chuckled at them, eyes twinkling.

  “Don’t worry, my loves, they cannot get you here. The monsters fear light and warmth. The shield marks on our doors warn them off.”

  “But what about the good faeries, Seanmhair?” asked one of the girls, her shrill, little voice giving away her excitement.

  “Don’t worry, mo leanabh,” the woman reassured the child, “they can still visit and give you sweet dreams.”

  Just then, a loud creak came from the cottage window and all heads turned towards it. The old woman’s eyes immediately narrowed, filled with disgust.

  A girl’s small, heart shaped face peeked through the other side.

  “Ailsa MacAra, leave this place now! Don’t you be coming near these children!” barked the old woman, standing up. The face ducked away behind the window frame.

  “What was that, Seanmhair?” asked one of the smaller boys, eyes round with surprise.

  “That,” huffed the woman, “was a little monster.” She still stood, staring at the window, clutching at her chest.

  “But it looked like a wee girl to me.”

  “Oh it looks like a girl, but don’t be fooled,” she warned as the children surrounded her skirts. The woman patted one girl’s head, but her eyes never left the window.

  “Eleven years ago, there was a young mother who lived in the next village. She had a gorgeous baby girl who fell ill and was likely to die. The mother nursed her baby for days but fell asleep, exhausted. When she woke, she found that her baby had been replaced by another. It looked almost identical to the child, save for a large, red mark on its left cheek. We told the mother to drown the monster, but I’m afraid she was already under its spell. She raised it as if it were her baby. That was the thing that was looking through that window just now. The mother died a few weeks ago; she probably had the health sucked from her by the little beast. Do not speak to it, children.”

  “Now, it is nearly time for your parents to collect you. Let’s wait for them in bed, where we can get cosy. Don’t worry, nothing can hurt you here.” She ushered them through to the rear of the cottage. Before she blew out the last candle, she peered out of the window, but the tiny figure was gone.

  The girl clung to the shadows at the edge of the village. She knew that tonight was not the night to try to stay; she should return to the relative safety of the forest and wait until morning. Her mind was whirling with the curses that had been spat at her all day. As she walked, she gripped the chunk of cheese she had swiped from a table. Without breaking pace, she lifted the food to her mouth and nibbled on a corner. It had been worth it. So preoccupied was she by her first meal in days, that she didn’t notice the faint echoing through the trees.

  Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

  The sound got louder until finally her senses picked up that something was off. She slowed her steps.

  Right foot.

  Crunch.

  Left foot.

  Crunch.

  The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

  She took two more steps.

  Crunch. Crunch.

  Was it the echoing of her footsteps? She stopped, holding her breath.

  Crunch.

  She didn’t wait to find out who her mysterious stalker was. Ailsa dropped the cheese and ran. Branches whipped at her face and arms, but still she ran. Terror gripped her throat and she yearned for her mother. She ran and ran until her lungs burned and her muscles screamed at her to stop.

  When she couldn’t run anymore, she flung herself under a tree and sobbed.

  This is the way of the world, a sharp little voice said in her head, as she cried at all the unfairness.

  She wiped her eyes and stared at her tear-stained shirt. If she were to live, she would need to be tough. She would need to become the monster everyone thought she was. If they were scared of her, maybe she could use that to her advantage. She would get out of this forest. She would survive.

  She stood.

  This would be the last time that she cried.

  Chapter 5

  A large water droplet fell from the ceiling of the cave and landed on Ailsa’s face, pulling her from her dream. It must be raining again, she thought, groaning and rolling over.

  How many times had she had the same nightmare now? Was it not enough for the monster to stalk her waking moments but her dreams as well?

  It can’t get you here, she reminded herself.

  The smell of fire drifted into her nose and Ailsa’s eyes flicked open. Across the room, she could see a head of flaming, curly hair.

  “Ah, you’re up,” Iona called out. Her voice was much too cheerful for so early in the morning.

  “Am I?” groaned Ailsa. Ah, I’m still insane. Perfect.

  The wind outside howled, just like the voice in the back of her head. Ailsa sat up. Iona had built the fire again but there was no sign of Harris.

  “How did you sleep?” asked Iona, stoking the fire.

  “Fine. Where’s your brother?”

  “Out, collecting breakfast.” Iona continued poking the fire with a large stick and Ailsa scooted closer. If she was going to put up with the unwelcome intrusion, she may as well be warm. Iona gave her an encouraging smile, like she knew what Ailsa was thinking.

  “So, I suppose you’d like to know why we were being chased by those raiders?”

  “Well, I guess you could start with that
, yeah.”

  Iona looked into the embers and her eyes grew hard. “We’ve always had a bit of a problem with the Avalognians. They think Selkie fins have curative properties, you see. They cut them off and use them as medicine.” She scoffed. “Ridiculous. But lately we’ve been feeling like they’ve become more aggressive in their attempts to find us. Today, my suspicions were confirmed. Harris and I are in Eilanmòr on a mission and they seem to have caught wind of it. Or rather… someone told them and sent them after us.”

  “Someone asked them to kill you?”

  “Yes. She does not want us to be successful in this particular venture.”

  “Who?” asked Ailsa, interested. The conversation was cut short when footsteps on the path announced the return of Harris.

  He had borrowed one of her blankets to wear but being a lot taller, he had slung it around his hips like a kilt and an old rope held it together. His chest was bare, as were his feet, which were now covered in mud and sand from his walk. It was clear that he had just been swimming; his mop of scarlet hair was soaking wet and fat water drops travelled in rivers down his torso. In one hand, he was using his fingers to hook three fish by their gills. In the other, was her bucket filled with water. Ailsa was stunned by the sight. How could someone look so wild?

  “Breakfast,” he announced before striding up to his sister and shaking his hair all over her like a dog.

  “Harris!” she screeched and threw a twig at him. It bounced off his chest and he threw back his head and laughed. Ailsa couldn’t help but stare at the curls of red hair that dusted the place the twig had landed. He caught her looking and winked before tossing the fish down beside the fire. She scowled back.

  “Making friends?” asked Harris before flopping down to the right of Iona. He set about creating a spit using the sticks littered around him.

  “I was just telling Ailsa why we were being chased and why we are here.” Iona picked up a fish and skewered it with a stick.

  “Shh,” Harris mock-whispered, “that’s top secret.” Iona rolled her eyes. The siblings seemed relaxed and happy.