Page 67 of Highland Storm

“Och, that’s awful.” Phoebe shuddered. “I hope we’re no’ goin’ anywhere near it.”

“We’ll be close enough to see it,” said Orrick.

“Perhaps we’ll even see and hear the ghost,” said Hawke, chuckling as he steered the boat, watching Ethan stir restlessly on the seat.

Hawke had figured Phoebe was going to try to go to the isle and that is why he’d decided to sleep on his boat. The wench was persistent and he knew she’d never give up. He figured the best thing to do was to take her there himself, and not risk her getting hurt, or possibly wrecking his boat.

This was going to slow him down and keep him from sleeping when he needed to be prepared to sneak in to the MacNabs’ castle and rescue his grandda in the morning. He could have refused to take her and locked her up so she couldn’t go. But he didn’t. Something inside him wanted to please her. He loved seeing how excited she got and he also wanted to help her. After seeing what Euan MacNab did to her siblings, he was sure her father was in worse shape than they thought. That is, if he was even still alive at all.

Phoebe was right. She needed the herbs to help heal her father. Because if Angus MacNab didn’t recover and take back his castle soon, there would never be reconciliation between the clans. Without him as chieftain, there would be no alliance, ever.

“We’re here,” said Phoebe when they approached the isle. Ethan hopped out of the boat to help dock at the shore and his dog followed, splashing around in the water.

“That mutt better dry off before she gets back in the boat,” warned Hawke. Just as he said that, Trapper shook water all over him. Hawke grumbled and walked away.

“Follow me,” Orrick told the others as they ventured onto the isle in the dark. He pulled a small lantern out of his bag. Hawke wasn’t sure how he lit it, but wouldn’t be surprised if he’d used magic. Right now, he didn’t even care. He just wanted to quickly find the plants and return to camp so he could continue his mission.

It was a slight trek to find the herbs they needed but, soon enough, Orrick stopped and pointed to plants with small purplish clusters of flowers covering the ground.

“Here we go,” he said with a wide smile, seeming just as excited as Phoebe to find the damned plants that Hawke was sure were really weeds.

“All right, quickly collect what ye need and let’s go,” said Hawke.

“Be sure to get the entire plants,” Orrick told Phoebe as they started to pick them and fill up a large burlap bag that Orrick had with him. “Every part of the Common Centaury plant is healing. Plus, it makes a good tincture when boiled that is good for the organs and inner problems.”

“That’s exactly what my faither needs,” said Phoebe, collecting the herbs with a smile on her face.

All of a sudden, they heard the sound of a woman screaming. Hawke’s hand shot to his sword and he and Ethan both had their weapons drawn in a second.

“What was that?” asked Ethan, looking across the field. The moon broke through the clouds, illuminating a castle in the distance.

“Look! That must be the haunted castle,” said Phoebe, pointing to it.

“Aye,” agreed Orrick. “That it is. Ever since the murder there, the ghost appears and everyone avoids this isle.”

“The ghost,” said Ethan, turning white. “We should go now.”

“Damn it, Ethan, ye are actin’ like a scared wench,” Hawke told him. “There is no such thing as a ghost.”

“Then what’s that?” Ethan pointed to a figure emerging from the woods. Trapper growled and took off at a run after it.

“It looks like a woman in a long cape,” said Phoebe.

“Let’s get back to the boat and leave this cursed place,” said Ethan, acting like a scared fool again.

“I think we have more than enough herbs to last a long time,” Orrick told them.

“Then let’s go,” agreed Phoebe.

“Nay. I’m no’ goin’ anywhere until I prove to Ethan that it is no’ a ghost.” Hawke took off at a run, following the path the wolfhound had taken. He followed the barking of the dog. When he broke through the clearing, he saw a frightened woman in a tangle of clothes, sitting on the ground with her hands over her head to protect her.

“Lass, it’s all right,” Hawke told her.

“Trapper, back down,” shouted Ethan as he and the others ran up behind him.

“Give me yer hand,” said Hawke, shoving his sword back into its sheath and reaching out for the mysterious woman. The girl slowly uncovered her head and looked up at Hawke. The moon bathed her pale face and sunken eyes.

Hawke’s body froze as the woman took his hand. “Nay, it canna be so,” he mumbled.