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“We need to move,” Rob says. “Sun’s getting low. We do nae wanna be out on the moors when dark falls.”
Something in his tone makes the idea of being out here after dark ominous. Curiosity overwhelms my shyness and discomfort.
“Why not be out here in the dark?” I ask.
They all exchange a troubled look before Duncan answers.
“It isn’t wise,” Duncan says. “You do nae want to run across the fae folk.”
“Fae folks? Fairies?” I ask.
The four men make the sign of the cross almost in unison.
“Aye now, ya needs watch your tongue,” Rob says. “Do nae be naming names. There’s power in names.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t know.”
I want to laugh, but they’re so grim and serious it stops me. They really believe in what they’re saying. Wait, it’s part of their game. That must be it. Right? Their commitment to their roles though, goes beyond anything I’ve ever seen.
It leaves me wondering what I’ve gotten myself into as I follow them over the hills. Rob leads the way and Duncan stays close to my side. The tall grass smells fresh as we make our way up another hill. It isn’t long before the soft lowing of cows becomes a constant and then we top a ridge. As soon as we do, there is a small herd of ten or so cows.
“Ach, there we are,” Duncan says. “Let’s get this Highland gold home, eh?”
“Highland gold?” I ask.
“You’re nae from around here, are ya?” James asks.
“Uhm, no,” I say.
Not in the slightest and I’m beginning to suspect I’m from a lot further away than even the United States.
“Ya have a funny accent,” Patrick says.
“I guess I do,” I say, cheeks warming.
“Don’t sound quite English, tho’ does it?” James asks.
“I’m not English,” I agree.
“No? Where are ya from then?” Patrick asks eagerly as he moves in closer.
“I’m… uh…” I stop myself from telling the truth.
All four men are listening, though Duncan and Rob seem to be trying to appear indifferent. I don’t know what’s happening or where I am, but something is definitely wrong. The one thing I’m absolutely certain of is that I’m not where I’m supposed to be. If this is a game, then these men are really deep into it. Or their delusion. If it’s a delusion though then what was it that I witnessed?
The blood on Duncan is real. I rub my fingertips together where some of it has dried. It flakes away just like real blood. Which means those men we’ve left behind are really dead, not playing a part. My stomach heaves and I gag.
“Are ya alright?” Patrick asks.
Where are my friends? How did I get here? We’ve walked long enough now that we should have come back across the dig site. I think? But we haven’t. Are we walking the wrong way? Nothing looks familiar. It doesn’t even smell the same. That fog was weird, sure, but how far could I have possibly wandered?
“Yeah,” I say, after taking several deep breaths to calm my stomach and rubbing my temples to try and ease the pressure. “I must have hit my head harder than I thought. I can’t seem to remember where home is.”
“Ach, that’s nae good, now is it?” James asks. “We’ll get ya to Alesoun. She’ll fix you right up, she will. She’s got the Fae Queen’s own touch, she does.”
“James!” Patrick hisses and James' face turns deep red.
Interesting. They think their healer is fae touched but they can’t talk about it. Though curiosity burns like a sun in my chest, I don’t ask. I think the best thing for me to do is keep my mouth shut as much as possible.
