At least I’m not on a horse.
Chapter 22
Five hours later, the sky deepened to a thunderous grey and torrents of water pelted them as they struggled on. They had just managed to reach the base of one of the mountains and were now making their way towards some ruins a little farther down the road. The slow pace was excruciating. Although her body was hard and muscled from hunting, it had been a long time since she had actually hiked and it seemed that the young prince was in the same poor shape. He still managed to chatter as they went, giving Ailsa a pounding headache to go along with her sore feet.
“Do you have any brothers or sisters, Ailsa?”
“No.” Not for the past five years. For all she knew, Cam could be dead. Her heart ached with the same old pain and anger.
“Family?”
“No.”
“Friends, then?” His chipper tone grated against her skull.
“No. I don’t like people.”
He paused for a moment, as if absorbing this fact or debating whether to push her further. The temptation was obviously too great.
“Why don’t you like people?”
“I just don’t, okay?” she growled back at him.
He chuckled. “But why?”
“Because.”
“Why—”
She whipped around to face him fully. “Quit it! Maybe I don’t like people because they ask too many questions.”
His eyebrows pinched together. “Come on, Ailsa, we’ve got a long road ahead of us. I want to be friends wi—”
“Urgh, enough, Angus.” She carried on up the path, putting as much distance between them as possible. She didn’t look back to see if he’d been hurt.
Harris jogged up to her, his cocky grin irking her. “Ouch, it’s like you just kicked a puppy. How do you live with yourself?”
Ailsa just snarled, and booted a pebble ahead of her, imagining that it was Harris’s head.
The selkie lowered his voice. “He’s right, you know. We’ve got a long way to travel together, so it would be good if you could play nice?”
Her ears burned as she stalked ahead; Angus remained silent as he followed behind. Harris, however, entertained himself by counting out 100 steps at a time and then throwing a stone as far as possible down the path. He muttered as he went, counting every time his left foot hit the puddled trail.
“… fifty-six… fifty-seven… fifty-eight—”
“Will you please stop!” Ailsa yelled in his direction as she pulled her hood more securely about her face. Lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the serrated peaks around them.
“Problem, Ailsa dear?” asked Harris innocently.
Her eyes sparked with irritation, marching back to poke a finger into his chest.
“It’s bad enough we’ve been walking through this same glen for hours now without a change in scenery, but if I have to listen to you count to a hundred one more time, I swear I will go mad.” As she said this, a clap of thunder sounded nearby. Beside her, Angus jumped but tried his best to turn it into an intentional skip.
Staring back down at Ailsa, Harris’s lips curled into a smile. Ailsa could tell he was about to tease her again, but he was cut off by another flash of lightning. He laughed once and she growled, the sound mixing with the answering rumble from the skies. His mouth parted in a silent gasp as recognition flooded his gaze. It felt like Harris was regarding her differently now, as if he had suddenly uncovered a secret.
“Interesting…” he muttered under his breath.
“What is it now?” As she turned away from him in frustration, she lost her footing and her boot plunged into a particularly deep puddle. She shook her foot out and scowled. As if to herald her misfortune, the lightning flashed again, rumbling accompanying it a scant half-second later.
Harris seemed to gauge her profile, then shook his head absently.
“Looks like the storm is on top of us now, we’d better hurry to those ruins and see if we can shelter there for the night.”
“Agreed,” mumbled Angus.
It took the trio another half hour to reach the abandoned structure. While most of the roof had caved in, there was still a bit left around the hearth. Out of the downpour, Ailsa quickly set to work making a fire with some cracked wooden shelves she found in a corner. Angus and Harris removed the bedding from the packs. The castle had provided sleeping bags, wrapped in oiled and dried sacks, which had kept them from becoming sodden. Once Ailsa got the fire going, they each took turns peeling off their waterlogged clothes.
While Ailsa was changing, Harris distracted Angus by turning into a seal. She heard the moment that he transformed because Angus let out an excited squeak.
“I’ve never seen a selkie fully changed before!” he squealed, amazed. A second later, he cleared his throat in embarrassment.
Ailsa rolled her eyes as she tried to undo the buckle on her trousers. “I’m sure you’ve seen a seal though? It’s just the same.”
“No, it’s different,” he replied. “I know that he’s Harris, not a dumb animal—”
“Same difference.” She pulled on a clean shirt and poked her head out from behind a crumbling stone wall. Angus was crouching just within the cover of the roof, while Harris rolled about in puddles.
“Look!” said Angus. “He’s so cute.”
The seal stopped splashing and rolled towards them. Since his flippers weren’t strong enough, he had to move using his stomach in a sort of belly-roll motion, with his flippers extended out to the side.
He came to a stop at Ailsa’s feet and she scoffed. “You look ridiculous.”
Then it was Harris’s freckled face, pouting at her. He got to his feet and stuck his tongue out at her.
“Took you long enough. My turn to get changed. Go close your eyes.”
She made a rude gesture but turned away from the selkie all the same.
Finally, they had all donned new clothes and were now cosied in their rolls.
“I’d go catch us something to eat but I’m not going back out again,” Harris huffed, fishing around for an apple in his bag.
“Could you catch us something?” Ailsa questioned. She narrowly missed the wet sock he flung across the shelter.
“How dare you question an apex predator!”
She scowled back at him and nibbled on a piece of cheese she had packed.
“Well, we could toast some of this bread on the fire?” Angus had taken a modest loaf from his bag and ripped it into pieces before skewering them on some twigs. They crowded around the hearth in silence as the bread warmed.
After a while, Ailsa noticed that Angus kept shooting her furtive glances. He would open his mouth to speak, then close it again, thinking better of it.
The third time it happened, she turned her face fully towards him and growled. “What?” He immediately returned his gaze to the fire, looking sheepish.
Harris raised a brow. “I think that Angus has been trying to start a conversation with you, but you are too terrifying to attempt it.”
She showed all her teeth in her smile. “Good.”
Harris leaned into Angus and murmured conspiringly, “She just pretends she’s all scary. I swear she has a fluffy, gooey centre, my friend.”
Angus gave him a look like the very thought was ridiculous. “She also seems to be in a rotten mood, which you are doing nothing to help with.”
Harris just grinned merrily. “Nonsense. Ailsa is feeling much better, aren’t you?”
She pulled her sleeping bag over her head to block them out and muttered, “No.”
Harris frowned. “Could we talk to nice Ailsa please? I know she’s in there.”
She took a deep breath in and squinted out from beneath her blanket. “Fine. What would you like to chat about?”
Angus’s lips turned up tentatively. “I was wondering where you learned to throw that axe?”
She scowled. Of all the things…
“I just… learned,” she lied. “If I didn�
�t hit something, I didn’t eat.”
“Have you ever killed someone with it?”
Harris nodded eagerly. “Oh yeah, she made this really cool shot—”
She cut him off with a long, hard look. “I can defend myself if need be. Is that what you were wondering?”
“Oh, no. Sorry. I was just thinking maybe you could show me sometime?” Angus watched her like she was a venomous snake. “I’ve never used a throwing axe before.”
She considered this for a moment, stunned. He kept throwing her off with his kindness. Weren’t all royals puffed up with delusions of self-importance?
He wants me to teach him? She deflated. “Yeah, fine.”
It was hard being around people again. She was so used to being alone, she’d forgotten what it was like. Just when she thought she had them figured out, they would surprise her.
Ailsa was left gloriously alone while Harris recounted the tales of his past adventures on land. It seemed he had been a bit of a wicked youth.
Angus was a good listener, she noted, always asking questions about the story, never cutting in with his own experiences. Once she had finished with her food, she snuggled down deeper in her bedding and listened for a while, too. In this tale, there was a princess, or a lord’s daughter at least, and a faerie, a ghost and an enchanted flagon that filled itself with beer. Harris clearly liked to embellish so she wasn’t sure how much of it was true. She truly hoped there were no wyverns or sea serpents in Eilanmòr at least; although, nothing would surprise her now.
The next story was about a deer he’d met who was actually a farmer’s son, cursed by a wicked faerie. Ailsa’s eyes drooped as his soothing voice recounted how the boy’s true love had changed him back by tying a lock of her hair to his antler. She didn’t hear the end of the story as she sank into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter 23
The storm had moved on by the time they woke the next day. The clothes they had left out had dried somewhat but were still uncomfortable to put on. The cold from the damp cloth seeped into their skin and they shivered for the first part of the morning as they ate a meagre breakfast and packed up their camp.
Branches littered the path all along the glen, making it an arduous task to step around and over them. The storm must have worsened, Ailsa thought, carefully avoiding the puddles along the ground.
Though the walk was much more pleasant without the rain, it did have the effect of making Angus and Harris more talkative. Last night’s conversation had opened a can of worms; Angus was insatiable in his quest to find out more about her.
“So, Ailsa, where are you from?”
Honestly, it’s like having a pet I never signed up for. “A village east of here.”
“And do you still live there?”
“No, I live further south.”
“There’s not many people down there.”
She gave him a level stare. “I like it that way.”
Harris smirked at her from Angus’s other side.
Unperturbed, he carried on cheerily. “Do you ever go back home to visit?”
Her tolerance quickly reached its limits. “You know what? Why don’t we just walk in silence for a bit, okay?”
The selkie snorted but didn’t comment.
Angus deflated a little, his lip pouting of its own accord, but shrugged. “Sure, if you like.”
The quiet lasted for ten minutes before he was blethering away again to Harris.
“What is Struanmuir like? Is it deep underwater? What do you eat? Is it just selkies that live there?”
Harris just laughed good-naturedly at the onslaught. “Struanmuir is magnificent, but a bit boring. Not like your human towns. It’s actually not underwater at all, but you have to swim underwater to get to it.”
Angus was in his element. “How does that work?” he asked excitedly, his eyes lighting up like two blue beacons.
“It’s inside a series of caves, on a stretch of land just to the south-west of here,” Harris explained. “You have to swim under the sea to reach the cave opening.”
“It’s not very big, then?”
The selkie shrugged. “It’s big enough. The main cave is over half a mile wide and as tall as your castle. Enough to fit a town inside. That’s where we do most of our business.” As he spoke, his hands animated the scene. “There is a series of little holes in the ceiling and my ancestors hung up mirrors to reflect in light from outside. When the light reflects off the water, it looks like we are under the ocean.”
“So that’s where you live?” pressed Angus.
“Some selkies live in the connecting caves. But remember, most of the time, we’re seals. We live in the sea.”
The prince sighed. “It must be wonderful to float around.”
“It is. To be a seal is to be free.” He stretched his arms out in front of him and mimicked moving in an ocean current. Angus laughed as he swam around in front, encouraging the other man to do the same.
They circled back around Ailsa, who scowled as they came nearer. Harris stopped when he got behind her and mock-whispered to the other man.
“We do have to watch out for sharks sometimes though…”
Angus chuckled and whispered back. “Especially grumpy sharks?”
“Yup,” Harris laughed. “Especially the ones that stomp around glowering and carrying an axe.”
Ailsa glared back at them from over her shoulder. “You know I can hear you, right?”
“Oh no!” shouted Harris. “She’s seen us! Swim away!”
They tripped over each other as they ran past, splashing through the puddles in the road.
“I swear to the Gods, you two, I will leave you somewhere while I go and retrieve the Stone—alone,” Ailsa shouted. I guess this is what I get for agreeing to one of Harris’s ideas. She knew they were just trying to pass the time. She smiled ruefully and plodded on.
At midday, they found a sheep with a broken leg, which Ailsa quickly slaughtered for lunch. The meat had been properly roasted on the fire Harris and Angus had built, and they all tucked in. Ailsa licked the fat dripping down her fingers with relish while Angus sang a bawdy tune, which had Harris rolling around, laughing. His voice was surprisingly good. A soldier and a musician?
All too soon, it was time to head off. The road ahead meandered on in an endless ribbon, the view monotonous.
Ailsa pulled on her pack and groaned. “I have decided to rename this valley to the Glen of Sorrow.”
“Really?” asked Harris. “I think the Glen of Suffering would be better.”
“I would give anything to the Gods if they just gave me something else to look at.” Angus nodded in agreement.
Harris huffed. “I’ve already sacrificed my feet—which are covered in blisters—I’m not giving them anything else. I fear they shall drop off at any moment.”
Angus grinned. “Well, I think you got your wish. Look!”
Ailsa’s head snapped up and her heart sank.
“A forest?” A wave of cold washed over her from head to toe. No.
Harris nodded. “Yeah, it covers a few acres.”
Oh Gods…
She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “Isn’t there another way to go?”
“Not unless we want to head back the way we came,” he responded warily.
For a moment, Ailsa considered this, biting her lip, weighing up the options in her head. Neither choice was appealing—but she knew she didn’t want to go into the forest—not even with Harris and Angus.
“We are not turning around, Ailsa.” Harris turned to face her full on. “What is wrong?”
“I really don’t like forests.” She dipped her head, trying not to look at the shadowy spaces between the trees in case she saw something staring back.
“Are you scared?” He placed a hand on her shoulder.
Her face became hot. Why did she even come with them on this journey? “No…” The shame wrestled with her fear, making her feel worthless. “Maybe.”
His ey
es softened. “Look, we’ll be fine. We’ll protect each other.” Seeing her mortification, he hardened his jaw. “It’s the only way. You can do it.”
Ailsa hesitated, scanning the trees in front of her as they swayed slowly with the wind. From the corner of her eye, she saw Angus reaching out with his hand as if to touch her too, but, thinking better of it, returned it to his side. She gave a quick huff and squared her shoulders. Some guard you are. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.”
Together, they stepped over the threshold of trees. Ailsa held her breath as if she were plunging into an ocean. One foot in front of the other, she chanted to herself.
Harris led the way into the woodland, walking slowly now, with Ailsa and Angus in tow. He wound his way between the trees, touching each one as he passed.
Ailsa kept her head down, focusing on Harris’s footsteps. Though her eyes itched to scan around the dark, she was fearful of what she would find staring back at her. She pulled her axe from her belt, telling herself it was just something to do with her hands.
You can do this, she repeated with every careful step. You are too old for monsters. You’re not a little girl anymore. You are what others fear.
But the trouble with monsters was that they were all much older and much more terrifying than she was.
Chapter 24
They had been traipsing through the woods for an hour when they saw the first sign of people. The trio came upon a small clearing, where a ring of delicate, white flowers surrounded a huge standing stone. The boulder had been righted and covered in intricate symbols.
Angus approached hesitantly. “Are these faerie symbols?”
“No, they’re human,” supplied Harris. “They think that these runes will protect them from the fae.”
Ailsa cleared her throat before speaking up. “I remember the doors in my village having similar ones.”
Harris shrugged, looking unimpressed. “Whatever keeps people happy.”
“They don’t work?” asked Angus. It felt frustrating, knowing so little about faerie kind. Why had he never been told any of this? I bet Duncan would know.
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