by Zoe Tasia
Kiera had shown up to eat a few rashers of bacon with the kitten, but left when the girls did. I remembered that Kay’s friend intended to catch the ferry early this morning. Why not stay the whole weekend? It was as if Kay had something to hide or—she wasn’t sure what her friend would make of the island and wanted to introduce her in small increments.
Scotland never got very hot, but today the cold air nipped at my nose and the gray sky drizzled—more like a fall day than a summer one. The sun had been slow to rise, reluctant, and seemed...dimmed. I waved to the girls as the bus pulled away. The grass rustled and swept from side to side, despite that I only felt a breeze from behind me. When I got home, I eyed the leftover dessert and decided to use it as an excuse to visit Kay. As I finished packing, the sound of thunder drew me to the window. A lightning bolt tore a white slash across the angry clouds. I felt silly, it rarely rained hard, just drizzled, but crammed my feet into an old pair of wellies and donned an ancient mackintosh that smelled of mothballs. As I turned to shut the door, I reconsidered leaving it unlocked. I went back inside and checked all the windows and the back door, then locked up, and pocketed the key usually hidden above the sill. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m tired of it,” I muttered as I stomped toward Kay’s cottage.
The wind picked up as I drew closer to her house. I wished I had braided or tied my hair back. The broken tie string snapped my cheek as I held the hood tightly closed with one hand, but wisps of my hair still escaped to fly into my eyes and my mouth.
“Vanity—drat it,” I muttered.
Since my hair had turned out so well last night, I’d decided to leave it down today. Now I paid for that. I was almost at Kay’s when the sky opened up. Not a smattering of rain, but a downpour like I hadn’t experienced since Houston. I struggled to the door and had raised my hand to knock when Kay opened it before my fist could land. After I got inside, we fought against the wind to shut the door. When she did open her mouth to speak, I motioned her to wait. I handed her the dessert then dredged my cell from my pocket and called Jess.
“Mom?” she answered.
“Did you make it to the library okay? This weather’s crazy. If it doesn’t get better, just stay there, and I’ll meet you at the library for lunch. Don’t try to make it to the shop.”
“We...and Tate is reading...I can barely hear you.” Her voice faded in and out.
“Jess? Are you okay?” I tried not to panic.
“...fine, Mom. We’re fine. See...at lunch.”
I thought she said goodbye but, regardless, the phone cut out.
Without a word, Kay helped me out of my coat and waited while I wedged my feet from the tight wellies. Kay’s cats played with a ball of yarn, and a half-finished striped scarf she must have been working on lay on the arm of the chair. She asked if I’d like a cup of tea, but I was too wound up to drink anything.
I hadn’t really thought about how I would start this conversation. I just knew she had information that she wasn’t sharing with me—an outsider. “After you left last night, I got a call about the girls.” I told her what happened at the farm house and later with Greg. “Kay, what’s going on? Do you know anything about all this?” She sighed and went back to her knitting. I suppressed the urge to yank it from her and toss it out the door. “Kay? We are friends—aren’t we?”
“Of course, we are.” She paused to turn her work. “I think—you’ve stirred things up. Put something into action, something old.”
I slapped my hands on the coffee table. “What?” I demanded.
“Don’t be angry with me, Becca, but it isn’t my tale to tell.”
“Kay, confound it! I think I need to know. Me? I don’t give a hoot about what happens to me, but my kids—this thing was eating my baby, Kay. I have never seen anything like it or felt so helpless.”
“I know how you feel—”
I stopped her. “No, you don’t. People without children say that, but you don’t. You don’t know.”
Kay tossed the knitting down and paced round and round the room. I’d never seen her like this. She was never agitated. The Queen of Calm and Collected. I tried to be patient, but on the fifth round, I broke.
“Kay!” I pleaded.
She took her shoes off and strode to the door. “Come on, then.”
While I stood there confused, she peered out the glass set in the door and frowned. “Could you have chosen a more dreich day?”
She opened the door. The wind tore it from her hand and flung it so hard against the wall that I expected to see a hole. As Kay walked out, hair, tugged from her braids, floated like a nimbus around her head. As the downpour fell, her drenched, plaid tunic clung to her body.
I rushed to the doorway. “Kay?”
She stepped off the porch and onto the grass. She turned to face me and smiled, then closed her eyes and raised her face to the heavens as she scrunched her toes into the earth. Then it was as if I looked through a window clouded with moisture that continued to fog. Kay blurred and shrank, and all the colors of her swirled and darkened. I didn’t know how long it took, but when my vision cleared, the enormous, black cat, Kiera, stood before me. The cat shook herself hard, hissed, and ran inside.
I dodged, shut the door, then turned to the cat. “Kay?”
The cat jumped into the seat of the armchair and from there, to its wide, green velvet-covered back. The kittens mewed and tried to claw their way up. Kiera gave a plaintive meow.
“Kay?” I asked again.
Kiera tilted her head and nodded once. “Yerrrow.”
I felt stupid talking to a cat. Wait, Kay’s a cat?
I wouldn’t have believed it, if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. The cat hissed as if she sensed my incredulity.
I shook my head in dazed wonder as Kiera gnawed on a claw and spit out a sheaf. “We’ll have to clean that up, yes?” I asked.
The cat...chuffed?
I’d never seen a cat laugh before, but this one did. Kiera/Kay leapt off the chair. The kittens surrounded her. She gave each a lick, went to the door, and turned to look at me.
“Uh...okay.”
I opened the door and Kiera padded out to the grass. The same fogginess occurred.
Instead of shrinking, the cat grew and the colors of Kay’s skin and her clothing threaded in, obscuring the black until Kay stood before me.
She rushed back into the cottage, rubbing her arms. “Brrr!” She slipped her shoes back on. When I raised my eyebrows, she said, “I could have changed with them on. They would have just vanished and reappeared as my clothes did. It’s just a bit easier and faster to shift if my body has some contact with the earth.” She returned to her chair but set the knitting aside and scooped kittens into her lap until she had all of them. “Yes, they are mine. All cats are. No, they are not all like me.”
“Okay.” I backed until my legs met the cushions, and I collapsed onto the couch. “Kay...how, why?”
“I guess it’s hereditary. Like being left-handed? My family—we have this in our blood. My parents thought if they ignored it and refuted it, it would go away. I should have been raised to expect this, but I wasn’t. Do you have any idea what it’s like to turn into a cat and have no idea what’s going on? Sorry, of course, you wouldn’t. Just like I have no idea what it’s like to have children.”
I ducked my head and blushed.
“I tried to make a go of it on the mainland, but there were too many questions,” Kay said. “I do have control of my change, but if I go too long without changing, the change will assert itself. It is the way of the fae.”
“So...what? Are you fae? And what is a fae?”
“Fae are magical beings. Don’t ask me why, but at some point, a fae or fae with human blood thought it would be brilliant to turn into a cat and didn’t think through to the consequences. It’s genetic manipulation, I guess. And with fae blood, one can do this easily. Now undoing it—another story. Imagine this. It’s easy to push a glass full of water over and wa
tch it pour out, maybe direct the flow in a certain manner, but to take that glass, upright it, and put the water back? Now that is not easy.”
“So...you’re a cat...well, a part time cat?”
Kay stood tall and regal. “I’m no mere cat hybrid. I am of Cat Sith. We are fae royalty. When we choose to grant the courts our attendance, we are heralded and sit upon a throne.”
“Wow—royal ‘we?’”
“Actually, yes, it is.”
“So, the night of the ceilidh, you didn’t urge us to continue to the cottage because there was no danger, but so you could change into your cat form and attack the wolf.”
“Yes. I’d hoped to dissuade it. As Kiera, we have crossed paths before with little or no incident. It’s strange that the wolf was so determined and aggressive.”
“That was very brave.”
Kay shrugged. “Something about you and your daughters called to me. It entreated me to reach out to you. I hope my senses were not mistaken.”
“I don’t know anything about senses, okay, but I thought you were my friend because you liked me.”
“We are friends. I do like you. But when we first met, it was curiosity that drew me.”
“Curious as a cat?” I asked wryly. “Is that why you decided to check me out as a kitty before meeting me as Kay?”
“If you continue to make cat jokes...” Kay warned.
“I’m just a little freaked out. I’m sorry.”
“You can tell a lot about a person by seeing how they treat animals. I did, the times I came to you as Kiera. I saw you were a good person and wanted to get to know you better. We grew to become friends, just like any other women do. I’ve told you some of Greg’s background. There’s quite a bit more, and I believe you are wrapped up in it. I think he knows this, too, and expect he will share his secret with you soon.”
“Do you know the secret? Wait, is he a fae too?”
“Greg isn’t fae, and I know part of his secret, but not all of it. To be honest, I don’t even know if he is allowed to talk about it.”
“Allowed? What do you mean allowed?”
“There are...rules, I guess is the best way to explain it...for the fae. You don’t break them. It isn’t like running a stop sign at an empty street corner. Fae won’t slap you on the wrist and fine you. Breaking fae rules comes with a greater cost.”
“Wait a minute.” I remembered something that Greg had said about Mr. Samms and his son. “The Samms—they have fae blood too. Were my girls in any danger there?”
“No, Becca. They are good people.”
“No, they’re fairies.”
“The Good People are fairies—or fae, as we prefer.”
“So, somehow my coming to the island changed things here. Well, there’s a simple answer. The girls and I can pack up and leave. We should easily be able to catch the last ferry back to the mainland.”
“I don’t know if that would help. Indeed, it may make things worse.”
“What do you suggest then? The weather is crazy—weird things are coming from the forest. There has got to be something I can do.”
“I believe it will take the efforts of you and Greg to set things rights.”
“Well, it will be hard for me to help if he won’t tell me anything about what’s going on.”
“He can’t tell you until he recognizes and accepts what is happening.”
“Now, you’re going all weird on me again. Not like you haven’t been since I’ve arrived, but it’s getting old—the not getting any useful answers.”
“I’m sorry, Becca, I am. Know that I am your friend, and I will help you in any way I can.” Kay tapped her chin. “There may be someone I can talk to and find out more. I don’t like to visit her, though.”
“Why, is she one of those bad things?”
“Not exactly. I think she’s so unlike humans, even half humans, that she can’t quite relate and speaking to her may not give us the results we want.”
“Would it help if I came with you?”
“No, I fear that would make it worse. At least I know what to expect and how to act.”
I looked at my phone and was unsurprised to find a blank screen. The battery life seemed shorter on the island than the mainland. “What time is it?”
Kay gestured to an old analog clock on the mantle. It seemed to be keeping time, at least. It was drawing close to the time I needed to get to the bus stop to meet the girls. “I need to go. The girls will be waiting on me. I hope the weather is better at the village than here.”
“Let me give you a ride so you don’t have to stand in the rain.”
I gratefully accepted. Kay’s car was old and very reluctant to start, but the engine finally turned over. The windshield wipers did more smearing than clearing off the water. She had to turn the lights on and drove very slowly on the muddy lane. Mentally, I urged her to drive faster, even though I knew it was safer to be cautious. I didn’t want to be late.
THE GIRLS BEAT US TO the tea shop. I guess Jess hadn’t heard me when I told her to wait at the library. Good thing I saw them through the window. Thankfully, Fiona had an extra umbrella and let them borrow it and oversized raincoats from the lost and found. Their feet, however, were soaked. They both seemed to be in good moods. Marnie had served them hot chocolate and scones.
I really wanted them to eat a proper lunch then have scones. I would have complained but this was turning out to be a weird day. Tate appeared so much better since Greg had rid her of that thing, and I hoped Jessie and my relationship would improve since she was vindicated when we saw the creature.
Tate waved at me. “Hey, Mom!” Her hair was damp and drying into ringlets. Jess had braided her own back in the morning.
“I hope you didn’t drive the librarian nuts.” It just occurred to me that perhaps Courtney would prefer that parents accompany their children when visiting. Even after a year, I wasn’t always sure how I should behave. About the time I thought I had Scottish customs down, I would do something abysmally stupid or unthinking. The Scots would be understanding, but tsk to each other and, I knew, later speak of “that American.”
A grin lit up my baby girl’s face. “There wasn’t anybody there, Mom. Mrs. Campbell let me help her unbox some brand-new books that just came in and guess what?”
“What, Tate?”
She gestured to her sister who opened the back pack she brought and handed her sister a stack of novels. “I’m the first person to ever check these books out!”
“Good for you, Tate!”
She chattered and waved the books at me, until I finally took them and returned them to Jess, admonishing Tate that she would end up with clotted cream on them if she didn’t stop.
“What were you up to in the meantime, Jess?”
“I’ve been doing some research. I want to go back and read some more after we eat.”
“I don’t know about that, honey. What are you researching?”
“Just curious about some folklore I read a bit about.”
I wanted to ask more, but was afraid my curiosity would, rather than encourage her, make her decide to forgo the library completely, so I let it go for now. “The weather’s atrocious. Kay has offered to take us back home. If this downpour continues, I don’t want you stuck waiting at the bus stop and walking home.” Then the sky made lie of my words by the rain abruptly stopping and the sun burning the clouds away in a matter of moments.
“Odd weather we’ve been having today,” Marnie said bringing a pot of tea without asking. “What else will you be having?”
I ordered one of all the sandwich types available. There wasn’t that big a choice, and I thought it might be nice to share. I vowed to treat Kay to the meal. Sure enough, the girls had spoiled their appetites with the scones and barely touched the sandwiches, so we could take them back and finish them off for dinner. I wondered about stopping by the grocer to get some chips to go with but dreaded seeing Conall and didn’t want Kay to have to wait on me. This dilemma w
as solved when Kay asked if it was okay if we stopped by there before she took us back. She had some items she wanted to pick up. Certain favorites ran out fast, and she knew Conall was expecting some stock on today’s morning ferry.
Chapter 17
FUNNY WHAT SCOTS THOUGHT were “specialty” items. Often some staples that we took for granted in the States were unusual and exotic here, especially in small towns and villages. No doubt getting Jif or marshmallow crème was much easier in London. We hadn’t spent much time there, and it was on my list of things to do before going back home. I had rented my house out and had a friend keeping an eye on it. When I left, I wasn’t sure where I would end up, but I wanted to keep my options open. The rent had helped with the more expensive clothes and such sold here. I was okay with the clothing situation, but Tate had gone through two growth spurts and even Jess, I suspected, had a bit more growing to do. Her body had yet to fill out in more womanly curves. She had been slow to menstruate and was still blossoming. And, yes, if I shared that with anyone, she would kill me—or pout for a year.
When our items were packaged up, we stepped outside to find it almost dry. We shed our coats and left them in the car, hoping the rain wouldn’t return. The forecast hadn’t predicted the weather correctly thus far. An older American couple came in shortly after us, soaking wet and grumbling about being stuck on this teeny island with nothing to do and no way to get back to the mainland for hours. They had holed up in the church during the rain and made their way here when the sky cleared up. Hopefully, they would have a more pleasant time in the next couple of hours before the ferry arrived. I knew the island needed the tourism. When we reached the grocery, it was quiet and dark. I tried the door. It was unlocked. “Do you think they blew a fuse?” I asked.