“Can you take us to this place?” I asked.
“Aye.” He looked us up and down. “Haven’t seen a pair like you before.”
I frowned at him. “A pair like us?”
“Fated, yet so torn.” He shook his head. “You can’t fight the hand of fate.”
No, but I could sure as hell try. Especially since it meant that our lives were on the line.
6
Lachlan
* * *
The old man led us from his cottage and across the hills, heading toward the coast on the other side of the island. We passed a few cottages on the way, small things like his own.
“The people who live there”—Eve pointed to one of the cottages—“are they your family?”
“Aye, more Finfolk like myself.”
“What are Finfolk?”
“Shifter. But not like him.” He nodded at me. “Different, like you. Rare.”
“Rare?” Eve frowned. “You think I’m a rare shifter?”
“Ain’t you?”
“I suppose so. Do you know anything about what I am?”
He gestured to the broken stone castle that rose against the skyline in front of us. “One of these lot, I assume.”
“What made those wolves different?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Don’t know. Never saw one myself, now did I? But different they were. This island is home to the different. That’s the reason the Finfolk came here.”
The man spoke in obscure, broad statements, but he did reveal gems of information.
I gave Eve a considering look. The wind whipped her pale hair back from her face, the pink tips glittering in the sunlight. She was beautiful out here. Beautiful everywhere, but particularly here.
Hell, it didn’t matter where I saw her. I always thought she was beautiful. Part of it was how different she was from everyone around her.
Though I knew that she considered herself to be a failed shifter, I never had. I’d known she was different, of course, but never had the ability to put my finger on it. Perhaps this was part of it.
We reached the castle, which towered thirty feet overhead. Piles of broken stone sat around the base, and we found the entrance into the tower. All of the walls had been covered by inscriptions, which looked good as new. Though many of the stones appeared broken and ancient, the stones with carvings looked like they’d been made yesterday.
Eve held her hand near the surface of one. “Protected by magic.”
“Of course.” The Finman sounded shocked. “Of course protected by magic. The residents of this island are no weak humans, leaving our relics to rot in the elements.”
Humans didn’t have access to the tools that supernaturals did, so it was hardly negligence. At least, not on the part of some of them. But they didn’t need me sticking up for them.
“Well, I’ll leave you here,” he said. “Best be gone before dark, or you’ll regret it.”
I turned to him, but he was already disappearing through the door.
“We’ll regret it?” Eve asked.
I nodded, still able to feel the threat on the air. “This place isn’t keen to have us here, even if you are somehow related to the people who once built this castle.”
She nodded, her gaze bright and her face pale. “I can’t believe these might be my ancestors.”
“Let’s find out.” I walked toward one wall of carvings but was dismayed to find that I couldn’t read any of it.
“They must be runes.” She ran her fingertips over some of the carvings. “But I can’t read them.”
I pulled my mobile from my pocket. “I’ll photograph them so we can have them interpreted.”
She nodded and turned to inspect the rest of the space. It was empty save for the broken bits of the wall that had tumbled inside the structure. The ground was grassy and damp, scattered in places with sheep droppings that she carefully avoided.
“There’s no evidence of an excavation here,” she said. “But it would have been done so long ago that the land had time to recover.”
“I can’t imagine they were particularly careful with their efforts.”
“No, most antiquarians weren’t known for their scientific methods. Not in the early days, at least.” She pulled her bag from the ether and began rooting around.
“What are you looking for?” I didn’t stop taking photos as I asked, making sure that each one was clear enough to study later.
“Something that will show me if there’s anything still beneath the surface.”
“What can it detect?”
“Anything of value, though that’s subjective. In this case. I’m just trying to find anything manmade. Maybe the original excavation missed something.”
Clever.
She pulled a vial from her bag and decanted it into a spray bottle like she’d used back in The Bonnie Thistle to find the entrance to the Clerkenwell tunnels. Seeing me eying the bottle, she said, “It’s similar to that potion, yes. A slight modification of my own design. Packed it just for this purpose.”
She truly was extraordinary. She had a gift for potions, no doubt, but she hadn’t been born into that form of magic or trained from an early age. She’d picked it up all on her own out of necessity.
I often felt guilty that she’d felt the need to run from our pack, but she’d had no trouble handling herself in the outside world, that was for damned sure.
She sprayed every inch of grass with the sparkling silver potion as I finished taking photos. When she completed her task, she stood back and surveyed the ground.
The air buzzed with power, and I looked at her. “Is that your spell?”
She frowned. “Shouldn’t be.”
I turned to the door and looked out onto the rolling hills that fell toward the sea, searching for an external threat. Every inch of my skin prickled with wariness.
Something was happening here. I’d been feeling it ever since we arrived, but this was more than just a vague discomfort.
This was a distinct threat.
“The sun is going to set soon,” she said. “The Finman did warn us.”
I nodded. “Be quick, then. How long for your potion to work?”
“Almost there, I think.”
I stood guard at the door, watching the horizon for anyone who might approach. The threat might not be from the living, however. There could be any manner of spells on this island that could create trouble for us.
With every moment that passed, the threat seemed to grow stronger. It vibrated against my skin like the sting of bees.
“They took everything,” Eve said.
I turned back to look at the ground. It glowed with a faint light from her potion, and I could somehow see through the dirt. There were places where the earth seemed disturbed, but there was nothing beneath the soil that had been manmade. The bastards had cleaned the place out.
A moment later, she gasped.
“What is it?” I asked.
“The moon has risen.”
“You feel it?”
She nodded.
It wasn’t fully dark yet, but at certain times of the month, the moon could rise early.
“Let’s go. We have everything we can get from here.”