by David Wood
“So it’s just a shadow,” Grizzly said.
“Exactly. See how they’re already vanishing as the sun grows brighter?”
Grizzly nodded. “And the glow around the head must be sunlight refracted by the water vapor in the air.”
“It’s called a ‘solar glory.’”
Grizzly continued to stare at the faint images until the rising sun melted them away.
Despite her misgivings about the man, Isla couldn’t help but feel sympathy. He was an optimist, open to possibilities that she was far too cynical to even consider. Isla knew all too well how it felt to have your illusions shattered.
“I’m sorry,” she said, and meant it.
Grizzly turned, rubbing his hands together and smiling. “Sorry about what? We just proved the Grey Man is real!”
She held up a hand. “Wait. We did just observe the same phenomenon? You heard my explanation.”
“Sure I did, but we solved the mystery! We proved that the sightings weren’t just figments of someone’s imagination. All right, it’s not Bigfoot’s cousin, but the witnesses actually saw something, and now we know what it was. I call that a win.”
Isla was surprised to find herself agreeing with Grizzly. They had just solved an enduring mystery. More accurately, she had solved it. Conspiracy theorists and cryptid hunters around the world wouldn’t thank them for it, but that was all right with her. That was one demographic whose readership she didn’t crave.
“Do you mind if I quote you on that?” It was probably the wisest thing he’d said since they’d met.
“Not at all.” Grizzly’s eyes were alight with triumph. “I pitched this idea to Jo Slater, and she said it would be a waste of her time.”
Where had Isla heard that name before? “Isn’t she on television?”
“She hosts Expedition Adventure. The new season’s delayed, something about a personal tragedy, but she’s apparently getting ready to start up again. I can’t wait until she sees the video!”
“I’m glad you’re happy.”
Grizzly shrugged. “I’m not usually an ‘I told you so’ guy, but I heard through the grapevine that she’s been calling me ‘vapid’ and ‘unprofessional.’ This will show her.”
Isla reflected on the turn of events. Maybe their success, relative though it might be, boded well for another mystery she hoped to solve. One it seemed she’d been trying to unlock her entire life.
As they broke camp, Grizzly shared his concluding thoughts about the Grey Man. He opined that the hikers who reported hearing the sound of being followed were probably hearing echoes of their own footsteps. He concluded by saying their discovery felt bittersweet.
“I’m happy that we know the truth, but I’d really like to find a cryptid some day. An actual, living creature.”
“What’s next for you?” Isla asked.
“I think you already know,” Grizzly said, slipping into the straps of his backpack and buckling it above his hips.
“Actually, no. I only researched Ben Macdui and the Grey Man. I didn’t study up on any of your other projects.”
Grizzly folded his arms and gazed down at her, a condescending smile painting his lips. “Come on. We’ve only known each other a day, but aren’t we past playing games? I’m not blind, you know.”
Isla rolled her eyes. “You’re the one playing games here, and I really don’t have time for it. If you don’t want to tell me about your next project, that’s fine. I won’t include it in the article.” She turned on her heel and strode away.
“You think I didn’t notice how much attention you were paying to the summit indicator?” Grizzly called.
His words stopped her in her tracks. He couldn’t possibly know, could he? “I took pictures,” she said through gritted teeth. “That’s my job.”
“Yes, you did.” The sound of crunching gravel marked his approach as he strolled over to where she stood. “Dozens and dozens of close-up images of every inch of its surface. Those will look great in the magazine.”
“I thought they would look interesting.”
Grizzly narrowed his eyes, his smile vanishing. “You thought it would lead you to the treasure of the Tuatha de Dannan.”
Chapter 7
Off the Coast of Wigtownshire
Silence hung in the room as everyone stared at the journal Maddock held in his hands. Monster. He’d have to translate the entire entry just to be certain, but this, combined with the tooth they’d found embedded in the U-boat, appeared to confirm what had sounded like a far-fetched tale when Bones told it. Of course, that was true for most of his stories.
“Can you read all that?” Willis asked.
“A bit of it. My German is rusty.”
“Let me take a look.” Bones moved to Maddock’s side and squinted down at the words formed in a neat hand.
“Come on,” Matt said. “You speak German?”
“I took it in high school. A bit more in junior college, then some in the Navy.” Bones shrugged, his attention on the book.
“Why German?” Matt prodded. “Wouldn’t Spanish be more practical?”
Bones turned a long, level look at his friend. “You’ve known me all these years, and you don’t know the answer to that question?”
Matt flipped his hand in a “go on” gesture and raised his eyebrows.
“The French hate the Germans, and you know what I always say.”
“Screw the French,” the others chorused, chuckling as they spoke.
“Amen, brothers. Now, let’s take a look at this thing.”
It took some time, but Bones, with help from Maddock and an online German translation program, managed to decipher the text. It was what Maddock had expected, and a little bit more. Just as they had finished, Corey appeared, carrying a manila folder. He joined them as they all circled around and read it together.
30 April, 1918
I write these words fearing that I and my men are doomed. The curse has followed us. As night fell, something began slamming against our hull, powerful crashes that shook the very framework of our boat but no enemy vessels were in sight. And then, with a terrible shriek, something breached our hull in several places at once. We thought it might be enemy fire, but as we fought to stem the flow of sea water into the ship, it happened again. I saw it with my own eyes—razor sharp fangs, terrible to behold. I did not believe our agent when he handed me this small portion of what he insists is a valuable treasure, nor when he told me of the beast that guarded it. Has this same monster come to reclaim its prize, or is this one of its brethren? How is either one even possible? Does it want this small bit of treasure back, or is it merely punishing us for the damage done to something it holds sacred? I regret that I will not be able to show this to the Kaiser. It would bring great shame to the Tommies to realize they have been sitting on a false throne.
After they’d all finished reading, Willis was the first to break the silence. “Man, I don’t know about messing with no monsters, but I do like the sound of treasure.” He rubbed his hands together and smiled.
“But there is no treasure on that sub,” Matt said. “We searched that thing from stem to stern.”
“No, I mean the treasure he’s talking about in this journal,” Willis said.
Maddock nodded. “If this captain’s account can be trusted, a German spy found something of great value. Whatever it was, he couldn’t bring it all with him, so he took just a bit of it. Whatever it was, it apparently would have embarrassed the British for it to surface.”
“And the monster that guarded it got pissed off and came after him,” Bones finished. “I don’t see what’s so hard to believe about that.”
Maddock chuckled. “It would be harder to believe if we hadn’t seen the tooth and the bite marks for ourselves.”
“Something else is bothering me,” Matt said. “There were no bodies on the U-boat. What happened to them?”
“According to the legend,” Bones said, “the creature damaged the sub, but broke off
its attack when ships from the Royal Navy arrived on the scene. The Germans knew they were sinking, so they ended up surrendering.”
“And the captain didn’t want the British to get their hands on his treasure,” Maddock said.
“You think there’s anything in here that might help?” Willis pointed at the journal. “I know the front part was unreadable, but if some of the later entries are legible, they might mention where he went and what he did.”
“Let’s see.” Maddock began turning the pages again, working from back to front, but almost immediately he met with disappointment. The previous page contained only a few legible words. The page before that, only two. Four more pages back, the journal was the same inky sludge as the front of the book.
“Dead end,” Matt said dully.
“We’ll have to get creative,” Maddock said. For some reason, he still felt they could solve this mystery. It wasn’t like they’d never tackled something like this before. “The sea monster attack is such a far-fetched legend that I’ll bet no one’s ever taken a serious look at it. Maybe, with some research, we could learn more about the captain and his crew.”
“You mean if I and maybe Jimmy do some research,” Corey said. Corey was a computer whiz, and their friend Jimmy Letson was an absolute legend.
“Do you really need to ask?” Maddock said. “But that’s not the only angle. If we can figure out what this treasure was, we could hunt it on our own. It won’t be as quick as if we had a journal entry saying, ‘dig here,’ but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible. We’re good at finding treasure.”
“Yes, we are,” Willis agreed.
“Do you think the black stone could be a piece of this so-called treasure?” Bones asked. “The journal mentions ‘damaging something sacred.’ You wouldn’t phrase it that way if you found a treasure chest and snagged a handful of gold and jewels.”
“And the bit of stone appears to have been chipped off of something larger.” Maddock scratched his chin. “Whatever this treasure was, he had to leave it behind, but it was significant enough, maybe unusual enough, that he wanted the Kaiser to know about it. What’s more he wanted to be believed.”
“If this treasure is just a big, black chunk of rock, I’m not sure there’s going to be money in it,” Willis said. “Don’t get me wrong, Maddock, I’m curious about this stuff too, but I got to get my mama out of Michigan and set her up down in Florida with the rest of us.”
“I understand.” Disappointment welled inside Maddock. There was little he enjoyed more than unraveling a historical mystery, but he owed it to his crew to take care of them. They’d done all right the past few years, but none of them were exactly well-off. He owed it to them to remain here and keep searching for the colonial-era shipwreck. He glanced at Bones. The big Cherokee was turning the black chunk of stone over and over in his hands, a glum expression painting his face.
Corey cleared his throat. “If you two want to stop acting like a couple of emo kids, I think I’ve got a solution.”
“What’s that?” Maddock asked, absently flipping through the ruined journal.
“You and Bones can head off on one of your legend quests, or whatever the hell you call it. Meanwhile, the real treasure hunters will stay here and bring up the gold on the colonial-era ship I just found.” He held up the manila folder he’d brought along.
Maddock dropped tweezers and gaped at Corey. “Are you serious?”
Corey nodded. “While you all were screwing around down here, I worked a new grid in the direction you suggested. I found it right away. Even sent UMA down to check it out.” UMA was a remotely-controlled underwater camera they often used for scouting out wrecks. “I liked what I saw.”
Maddock’s heart raced. “What did you find?”
“See for yourself.” Corey opened the manila folder to reveal a high-resolution printout of an underwater photograph. At the center lay a broken chest, its brass bands discolored but still easy to make out, and spilling out of it…
“Gold!” Bones exclaimed. “Hell yes, you did it, you ugly, ginger virgin!” He high-fived Corey, who seemed to be trying to decide whether to smile at the praise or protest the unfair characterization.
“Do you guys think you can take it from here?” Maddock asked Willis and Matt. “The gold is just lying there waiting to be scooped up, but if anyone can screw this up…”
“It would be Bones,” Matt said. “So get him out of here as soon as possible. We’ll keep you posted on how the dive is going.”
“We might even save a little gold for you.” Willis winked.
“That settles that.” Maddock turned to Bones, who couldn’t hide his excitement. If there was one thing Bones loved more than a dive, it was hunting cryptids.
“I know how we should start,” he said.
“How’s that?”
Bones held up the tooth. “See if we can find out where this thing originally came from.”
Chapter 8
Old Mill Inn, Pitlochry, Scotland
Isla was impressed with Grizzly’s choice of the Old Mill Inn as the site of what she was already thinking of as their “negotiation.” Located in Pitlochry, south of Ben Macdui, the inn boasted quality dining as well as luxurious accommodations. She still wasn’t convinced she wanted to work with the man. In fact, she was kicking herself for even giving him the time of day. He’d made a fool of himself at times during their sojourn at the mountain, but he’d somehow managed to graduate from dunderhead to numpty in her mind. In any case, he’d assured her he was going after the Tuatha de Dannan treasure whether she joined him or not, so perhaps she ought to work with him for no other reason than to try and keep him in check.
“What are you going to have?” he asked, peering over his menu at her.
“Chicken killiecrankie,” she said, closing the menu.
“What, exactly, is that?”
“Chicken stuffed with haggis and served with a mash of roasted roots.”
Grizzly cocked his head. “You actually eat haggis?”
Isla laughed. “Only joking. I don’t eat that stuff unless my nan makes it, and even then, it’s only out of a sense of obligation. I’m having the Caesar salad.”
“Good call. I’m all about the rib eye. I hear Scottish beef is top-notch.”
“I’m not much of a meat-eater, but my dad always swore by it. Of course, I don’t think he ever ate beef from any other part of the world, so his opinion might not be worth all that much.”
They made small talk for a while, enjoying bottles of Dark Island Reserve, a popular Scottish ale, and enjoying the placid atmosphere of the inn. As she sipped the strong drink, enjoying its rich, malt flavor, Isla learned a few interesting things about Grizzly.
The youngest of three children, his father had died when he was sixteen. His older siblings, already out of university, or “college,” as he termed it, and trying to get started in their own lives and careers, were no help to his mother. Mentally unstable at the best of times, the death of her husband plunged her into a deep depression, one from which she never fully covered. She lost her job and spent the next several years getting fired from various hourly-wage jobs. Thus, it fell to Grizzly to make sure the bills were paid.
He worked night and weekend jobs until he finished high school. He was a mediocre student, except for biological sciences, at which he excelled. One of his high school teachers helped him obtain an entry-level position at a nearby zoo, where he took advantage of their tuition reimbursement program to eventually earn his degree. None of this, however, impressed his mother or his siblings.
His brothers, both white collar workers in the corporate world, took pleasure in winding him up about his job shoveling piles of dung. His mother never acknowledged his role in keeping the mortgage paid and caring for her, particularly during her lowest periods. She criticized and belittled him at every turn.
“All I had were the animals and my books about cryptids,” he said, without a trace of self-pity. “I guess I was so diss
atisfied with my everyday life that it made me want to believe in anything that would make the world a bigger place, full of greater possibilities than what we know.”
“That was science fiction for me,” Isla said, hating the fact that she was finding any common ground with the annoying American. She also knew the pain that came from losing one’s parents.
“Sci-fi depressed me,” Grizzly said, taking a swig of Dark Island. “I enjoyed the stories, but knowing I’d never get to see any of the other planets in the universe and know for sure that something else was out there really bummed me out.”
Isla frowned, then remembered that the American idiom “bummed” meant “depressed.” It had nothing to do with one’s backside.
“You couldn’t visit other planets, but you could cross the globe looking for strange creatures.”
“Exactly.”
“What happened with your mother? Did your brothers finally step up and take responsibility?”
Grizzly laughed. “Hardly. Mom took her own life right after I finished college.”
Isla sucked in a breath through her teeth. “I’m so sorry.”
“It was a long time ago.” He made a small, dismissive wave, and then barked a rueful laugh. “Would you believe, all that time, Mom had been sitting on all kinds of stocks and bonds passed down from my grandfather? She could have covered all our bills without either of us working. I guess that’s why she never appreciated my efforts—they weren’t actually needed.”
Sympathy flooded through Isla followed by a wave of remorse at the way she’d treated the man. “That’s not exactly true, you know. It doesn’t sound like your mum was in any state of mind to use the resources she had.”
Grizzly nodded thoughtfully. “It all worked out in the end. I managed to sell off the stocks and cash in the bonds without my brothers ever finding out. I pretended I was too grief-stricken over Mom’s death to care what happened to the house and what little was in it. I walked away from it all while they sold everything for what little they could get and split the proceeds, cutting me out of course. I know what I did was unethical, illegal even, but it allowed me to start my career as a cryptid hunter. Besides, my brothers never lifted a finger for me or Mom, so I think inheriting her house and car was far more than they deserved.” He drained his ale and let out a tiny belch that he didn’t bother to cover.