The taxi screeched to a halt. Fergus set the brake handle, wheels locked. Fumbling with the latch, his father burst out onto the muddy road, stumbling down onto his knees. He lifted himself up, darting across the road, sprinting up the hillside like a mad man, racing toward a cluster of prickly bushes.
I stepped out of the car into the soft mist, staring at this crazed man picking at a thorny bramble, searching for something. “Are you, Ok?” I called out to him.
He whipped around, thumping his head with his knuckles. “I can hear her in me head!”
My eyes widened at the drunken man, mumbling to himself, picking at prickly bushes.
“Da, will ya get back into the car?” said Fergus impatiently.
The old man examined the shrubbery, hunting for clues, pinching out pieces of spun thread and sniffing them.
I cocked my head toward Fergus, curiously, shrugging my shoulders, not knowing what to do.
“Go on yerself,” he said, waving a dismissive hand at me and then returning to the driver’s seat.
“Sir?” I called out, crossing the road, making my way up the damp incline after him, my boots sinking into the soggy ground, squishing mud all over them.
He snatched a piece of clothing off one of the sharp thorns, a tartan print of green and blue.
“Why don’t you come back to the car?” I asked, stepping on a wet rock beside him.
He raised the plaid cloth to his nose, sniffing it, licking it with his tongue, and then grimacing as if he tasted a sour lemon, spitting the flavor out of his mouth. “Too old!” he said then tossed it over his shoulder. Amusedly, he turned to me, scratching his belly, grinning with his partially toothless smile. “You’ve crossed over!”
“Pardon?”
“Your feet,” he hummed gleefully. “You’re on the other side of the ley lines.”
“Ley lines?” I had no idea what this eccentric old man was talking about. I glared at him with a raised eyebrow.
“Mystical energy fields, invisible to the naked eye, they hold the Fae back like a grand fence,” he said excitedly, his eyes widening with emphasis.
“An invisible fence?” I repeated, thinking this guy needs to be put on some serious meds.
“Aye, put into in our world by Danú herself.”
“Danú?”
“Aye, the mother of all magic!”
“Da!” hollered Fergus from the car.
“Shoosh!” he answered, fanning his hand down toward Fergus.
“He’s just pissed ‘cause I had a wee tug last night. No worries though, lass. The police let me off with a warning.”
“Tug?”
“Arrested, lass. Have you ever been?” he asked innocently.
I blushed, fidgeting with my fingers and gazing down at my soiled boots. “Not lately,” I shrugged.
He cupped my right cheek with his dirty hand, patting me softly with his calloused palm, showing me his acceptance. “Good, lassy.”
I cowered inside.
Suddenly, his face turned sour, coughing up a ball of phlegm. He heaved over, violently vomiting on top of my boot tips.
Disgusted, I clamped my palm to my mouth, preventing the wave of vomit from rising in my stomach as I watched him spew out all the remains of his stomach.
“DA!!!” cried Fergus even louder.
Fergus’ dad stood up, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “Sorry, about that, lass. By the way, I’m Hamish,” he said all flustered. Hastily he headed back toward the car.
I jumped into the wet grass, trying desperately to remove all the puke and mud from the tips of my expensive boots, twisting them wildly around, until they appeared to be clean.
I followed Hamish back to the car, entering it apprehensively, hoping that I’d make it to the farmhouse as quickly as possible.
Fergus began to drive. “Just a wee bit up the road,” he said gleefully. “And then, we’ll be out of your hair.”
Somehow Fergus knew his father had just regurgitated his last meal onto my pricey leather boots. And there was no doubt that he wanted to be done with me as soon as possible. To tell you the truth, I wanted to be done with both of them too.
I gazed out the window, dazedly, hoping that we’d reach the farmhouse soon. It didn’t take long for Hamish to start chatting up a storm again.
“Tonight’s a special night with the new moon,” he said enthusiastically. “We’re approaching the midsummer’s solstice.”
“Old wives tales,” supplied Fergus helpfully with a loud snicker.
“‘Tis true! Every nineteen years the full moon will pass through the MääGord standing stones and the future of man’s existence is once again determined.”
“How’s that?” I asked suspiciously.
The car came to a full stop.
“We’re here,” stated Fergus nonchalantly, never making eye contact.
I gathered my belongings, an overwhelming sense of relief tingled through my body. Finally, I had arrived at my destination. I stood outside the taxi, optimistically, gripping my luggage firmly.
Hamish rolled down the back window, his finger signaling me to come over, wanting to tell me more. “I’ll tell you,” he added, smacking his lips together, “every nineteen years, when the moon aligns with the MääGord standing stones, all the faeries will come out to play.”
I handed Fergus an exorbitant amount of money for the taxi ride from hell. He just smirked and counted out his Scottish sterlings.
Hamish continued. “Best be staying on the right side of the ley lines,” he said, pointing his finger down at the gravel road beneath my feet.
I swung around to see where I was, a long curved driveway hugged the lush green landscape, leading up to an attractive stone farmhouse, beyond it, upon a higher embankment, megaliths, massive stones jutting out into the grey-streaked sky.
I gaped at the sheer magnitude of the MääGord standing stones; their cold grey shapes soared into the air from fifteen to twenty feet tall, their crooked and narrow silhouettes scattered along the crest of a hill.
“And you’re not!” snorted Fergus loudly, gunning the beat up car and peeling away, leaving a billowing ash cloud of exhaust fumes.
Hamish fingers twinkled fondly out the back window, his lips pouting sadly, wishing he could stay with me.
I stared uneasily down the driveway, not knowing what fate was going to deal me, feeling a sense of utter despair, knees knocking, jaw hanging open, and my luggage crashing to the ground in a loud thud.
What had I gotten myself into?
Chapter 4
♦♦♦
Anabel
I stood before the farmhouse door, desperate to get Granny situated as quickly as possible, a venomous snake of fear slithering in my stomach. Whatever lay on this side of the ley lines mustn’t be good at all, and I wasn’t about to stay around to find out.
I smoothed back my hair, pulled my jacket taut, and squared my shoulders.
My fingers raised the brass door knocker. My heart quickened catching a quick movement flash in the corner of my eyes. I twirled to my right, noticing a small stone statue of an ugly gnome-like creature; a horned Viking helmet adorned his head, a tiny sword buckled to his side, a lightning shield plastered to his arm, his eyes popping out in surprise.
I cocked my head to the side. What an odd statue.
Nevertheless, I spun back around and banged the knocker repeatedly. I needed to stay focused on what to do with Granny. I will help her out, fluff a few pillows, get her some hot tea with honey, and hire a full-time nurse, whatever it takes to make her well again. Get in, get out, nobody gets hurt!
No answer. How odd?
I banged the knocker again.
“Granny!” I yelled through the door. “It’s me, Anabel! I’ve come to take care of you!”
I cradled the doorknob in my hand, rattling it back and forth. No use, it was locked.
My eyes darted to the right, the funny little statue had hoisted its sword up higher, its mouth curling into a
sneer. I shook my head, tilting it to the side, staring at its body which seemed to have moved. I blinked, edging closer to it, my finger pointing out, poking it lightly on the tip of its nose; it teetered back and forth, wobbling awkwardly, until it crashed down to the ground in a thud!
I heard a clink-clank coming from the front door. “Granny? Is that you?” The door squeaked open.
My nose nudged through the doorway, scanning the foyer.
Not a soul.
I snatched up my luggage, noticing the eerie statue had gone.
Great, I’m starting to lose my mind. I sighed, rolling my sopping wet luggage in as I entered the empty house. Quickly, I shut the door behind me.
“Gran?” I said aloud but still no answer. Dropping my luggage in the foyer, I crept into the living room, a crackling fire roared in the center of the back wall, surrounded by squishy sofas, high wood beams framed the vaulted ceilings, and a glistening suit of armor nestled in its corner. The windows were adorned with colorful stained butterflies and dragonflies, suctioned to the beveled glass.
I doubled back though the hallway, hoping to locate Granny, poking my nose into the kitchen, iron pots and pans dangling from its ceiling, a glass cabinet along the wall stacked uniformly with white plates, saucers, and cups, all polished to a pristine shine, a bubbling pot crowded the stove with an eruption of green foam overflowing onto the tiled floor.
I ascended the stairs, cautiously, still crying out her name. A faint whimper echoed down the darkened hallway. I walked into Granny’s room, a soft wheezing sound murmuring from her bed.
“It’s pitch black in here,” I said flipping the light switch on.
Granny cowered away, averting her eyes from the bright light, her blue-grey hair coiled up in a tight bun, her frame small surrounded by feathery pillows, a ruffled night gown buttoned up to her wrinkled neck. “Too bright,” she moaned, gesturing at the nightstand. “Hand me my shades, love.”
I withdrew the sunglasses from the drawer, resting them in the palm of her tiny hand. She raised the sunglasses up, fastening them snuggly behind her ears, turning to me she cracked open her wrinkled eyelids, exposing a thin milky layer over her eyeballs.
I gasped.
“How can you see with those cataracts?” I asked horrified.
“That’s better,” she said, adjusting the leopard framed sunglasses. “I see just fine.” Granny shifted her body to sit upright in the wide bed while I fluffed a few feather pillows behind her back. “Would you hand me my grog?” She asked sweetly, gesturing to a pewter chalice, sitting on top of a heavy oak desk flushed with the far wall, its surface covered by a dusty computer.
I picked up the silvery chalice, covered in swirling Celtic symbols, its cup filled with green foam. Curious, I raised it to my nose, sniffing its putrid contents, it foul stench made me gag, a swell of tears misted in my eyes, as I placed it securely into Granny’s fragile hand.
I went over to the window, in need of some fresh air, the sour smell from chalice still tickling my nose. Swiftly, I yanked back a white lace curtain, gazing out the window, awestruck by the massive monoliths rising up from the crest of a hill, cold, silent, their presence beckoning me to stay.
“Your nurse is superb,” I said to Granny over my shoulder. “She even cooks!” My eyes studied the slabs of stone, their tips towering high, framed by the pink and grey streaked sky. “I’ll stay for a bit,” I informed her, “but then I’ll be on the next ferry out.”
I started to count the standing stones, ticking each one off with my fingers; nineteen in all, eleven forming a center circle, two stones jutting out on each side, marking north, south, east, and west, just like a compass. Their placement piqued my interest, reminding me of a Celtic cross.
“The new moon is here,” murmured Granny, her fingers fumbling to open the buttons on her nightgown.
I watched a dense, swirling mist, blanketing the embankment to the east, wisps of dewy clouds whirling around the stones. Breaking through the fog was a man, a warrior, dressed in a kilt, covered in his tartans, and a sword fastened to his side.
“Did your mother tell you of your duty?” asked Granny, wheezing heavily.
“There’s a Highlander outside?” My eyes squinted, trying to focus on the strange man, watching him leap around the lush green hill, and then heading back to what appeared to be a castle within the mists.
“The scroll,” gasped Granny, “did you bring it?”
“But, there’s a man?” I said in disbelief.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a pulsating light, flickering on and off. I spun around, wondering why Granny was beaming a flashlight at me, my forearm rose to my eyes, blocking the blinding light. Granny sat upright on the bed, a shimmering necklace wrapped around her neck. Out of it poured rays of blue and white light with a moonlike center stone, while eighteen smaller stones scattered around it, all of them burning white hot.
My heart pounded like a drum. “It’s alive!” I screamed, watching blue waves spilling out of it, enveloping Granny in its aura.
“It is your duty as a MacAlpin,” roared Granny, black veins twisting along her bare chest beneath the mystical pendant.
Gobsmacked, I swallowed a lump in my throat.
“Take it!”
My body tensed.
“It is my duty to get you better,” I stated firmly, “go home, and get married!”
“You must become the Guardian of the Moon Pendant!” Granny said persistently.
I was enraged. Mother never told me about this becoming a “Guardian” of anything. I was here to do my duty as a granddaughter, and that was to take care of my Granny. At least, that’s what I thought I was here for.
I inhaled deeply, calming my frantic nerves. “You’re a bit delirious, Granny,” I said casually, trying to laugh off all this “Guardian” stuff, my hand reaching for the chalice, scooping it up and handing it to her. “Have some more grog.”
Granny’s wrinkled hand shot out, clamping down onto my wrist, squeezing it tightly, splattering green foam all over the white linen sheets, and the chalice clattered onto the planked floor.
I tried wrenching my arm away, but I froze, mesmerized as she lifted up her sunglasses, her eyes glowing, twinkling, staring at me dead-on.
“You must say the oath!” Granny growled.
I jerked my arm away from her grip. She was mad! So I humored her with a simple, giggle and a soft, “Of course, Granny,” patting her arm, and sidestepping toward the door. “Let me refill your grog,” I said, snatching the chalice from the floor. “I need to, umm, go make a phone call.”
A wild wind rattled through the room, whipping around my body, blowing the door shut. I clasped onto the doorknob, twisting it frantically, wrenching it back and forth with all my might, jerking it wildly. It was locked. The palm of my hand slapped against the door’s cold wood, knowing that I was trapped.
Suddenly, the base of a lamp bumped against the back of my head, knocking me forward. Rubbing my head, I crouched low, spinning around on bent knees. Debris began to whirl around me like a tornado, the lights flickering on and off, blinding me as I raced toward the window. I fidgeted with the latch, opening it and then pushing on the window’s frame. It didn’t budge. It was bolted shut.
“You will fulfill your duty as a MacAlpin,” commanded Granny. She swayed a few inches above the bed, hovering, her mane now writhing uncontrollably, swaying in the turbulent air.
“Ok…Ok…” I babbled, trembling, knees buckling.
In a grand swish, Granny waved her hand over the necklace. It unclasped and slipped off her throat, floating into the air like a feather, descending over my neck, searching for a home.
I gasped for a mouthful of air, choking back on a sob. I witnessed the Moon Pendant spring to life, stretching out thread-like tendrils toward my neck, a parasitic organism, seeking its new host. It clamped onto me, its roots burrowing deep into my chest.
I stood there terrified, frozen in fear.
“Say the
oath,” demanded Granny.
My mouth dropped open. Oath? What oath?
“Say the oath,” repeated Granny. “Wind of MääGord, lift me. Earth of MääGord, build me. Water of MääGord, wash me. Fire of MääGord, bind me!”
My lips quivered uncontrollably as I began to recite the oath. The Moon Pendant tunneled its tendrils deep into my chest, implanting itself into my body.
I felt strong.
An earth-shattering roar thundered outside, throwing me down onto my derriere.
“The Portal is now opened,” muttered Granny, her body collapsing onto her bed. “Close it before we are all…” Her eyes rolled back into her head, a speckle of foam dripping from the corner of her mouth. “…doomed,” she puffed, taking her last breath.
Chaos immediately erupted outside the window, as a dark vortex of clouds swirled above the MääGord standing stones, bolts of lightning danced within it.
The door creaked open. “You must go, dearie, before it’s too late,” muttered a tiny woman standing just two feet tall, her goblin ears perked up. She resembled the odd statue by the front door. Her left hand cradled a wooden spoon coated in green foam.
“Go?”
“To the standing stones, dearie!” she squeaked, fluttering her thick eyelashes at me.
“Why?”
The grayish faery pouted her bright red lips, crossing her arms and huffing aloud. “The bond has been broken.”
I cocked my head to the side, raising an eyebrow to the tiny faery woman.
“There’s a rift, and the Portal is awakening. The Moon Pendant must take back its control over the Portal. No time to waste, dearie, hurry, hurry!” she squealed, scooting me off with a sticky spoon and minuscule hands.
I dashed out of the room, in a state of utter fear, leaping down the stairway in twos. Before I knew it, I was stepping over a low lying iron fence on the edge of Granny’s property line, my feet scurrying up the grassy hillside, and poised before the MääGord standing stones. Each pillar of stone was enveloped in an electric blue cloud, a swirling mist of energy flowed between each one.
Guardian of the Moon Pendant Page 4