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It was loud. There was a high-pitched noise that threatened to burst Fern’s eardrums, as if someone had just turned on a stereo. She couldn’t make out the language, but it was ethereal, like a siren’s call.
Or banshees. Or bean-nighe.
Fern forced herself to look around and realized that the runes carved into the cliff side were singing. The carvings danced along the rock.
“Fern, look at me,” Calum snapped, and she turned towards him, remembering her promise to do what he said once they were in the woods. He cupped her face gently and tilted her chin until she was looking him in the eye.
“It’ll pass, Fern. Breathe. That’s it.” He walked her through a few deep breaths, and the ringing in her ears faded. “It’s the magic. You’re not used to it yet. It’s my fault, I should’ve known. Just a few more seconds.”
Fern nodded and continued to follow Calum’s breathing until the sounds faded away. She leaned away from him, and he dropped his hands.
“I’m sorry,” Calum whispered, but Fern held up a hand to silence him. She shook her head, mouthing, ‘It’s okay’ in response. The look on his face let Fern know they would discuss it later, but they had other things to attend to first.
Fern was silent as they stepped cautiously into the clearing, making their way towards the small stream that ran down the valley. They had walked through this part of the plan so many times, Fern was on autopilot.
Then the realization of what they were about to do hit hard.
Just follow the plan. Calum won’t be far off.
She knelt down by the water’s edge and pulled the clothes out with shaky hands. Calum was already out of sight, hidden somewhere near her to watch and wait. Fern took a deep breath for courage and didn’t give herself any more time to think. She dunked the clothes in the stream and washed them.
* * *
Calum couldn’t take his eyes off Fern, and he had to force himself to scan the edges of the clearing.
Watch for the bean-nighe. Don’t stare at Fern.
The fate of Scotland’s magic was hanging in the balance, but all he could think about was how the night sky illuminated Fern’s features. He had nearly dragged her back to the car and took her home when she agreed to obey him in the woods, and those feral impulses were only getting stronger between the moonlit trees.
It wasn’t Calum’s fault; he was fae, and putting him in the middle of the forest with his mate was only going to make him react one way.
Keep telling yourself that.
In the darkness, there was a flicker of movement on the edge of the clearing. Calum searched the tree line and looked for it again, waiting for another disruption to the stillness. He only had to wait a few seconds.
The wind picked up around them, moving through the trees, and Calum could see Fern shiver. It sounded ominous, the far-off sounds of women weeping echoing throughout the clearing.
This is it.
Calum tensed until his entire body was taut as a bowstring. He stared, unblinking, at the creek until the bean-nighe emerged from the trees.
It was nearly transparent, a ghostly, white apparition of a woman gliding over the ground towards Fern. She had long, tangled hair and black, empty holes where her eyes would’ve been. A simple shift dress hung off her body in tatters, and she carried a ripped sack of laundry at her side. The wind shifted, and Calum nearly choked on the stench of corpses emanating from the spirit that was a harbinger of death.
Don’t look at her, Fern. We went over this. Whatever you do…do not look at her.
This was the part of the plan that made Calum the most anxious. They had discussed it many times. If Fern looked at the bean-nighe, it would mean her death. She knew that, but fear was not ruled by reason, and even Calum was gripped by a frigid terror.
He watched, ready to pounce. The bean-nighe got closer and closer. Despite that, Fern didn’t look up. She kept washing until the spirit came right up alongside her. Calum was holding his breath, and Fern continued.
The bean-nighe turned its attention from Fern and bent down to the water next to her. It washed its own clothes…and Calum knew they had her.
He snuck around the clearing, moving with deadly accuracy. The whole time, Fern kept her eyes off the spirit next to her, continuing to wash the clothes, so the bean-nighe did the same. The wind continued to rise in its intensity until leaves were spinning around the clearing, and the smell of dead corpses all but permeated the air.
Black magic itched underneath Calum’s skin, and he pushed himself forward. When he was standing directly behind Fern and the bean-nighe, he stopped. His heart was in his chest as he sank into a crouch.
One, two…
Calum gave himself a countdown, and with a feral shout, he launched forward. He sprung from his hiding place and came down on the bean-nighe. The spirit’s body became solid as he crashed into it, sending them tumbling into the stream.
