Echoes From the Mist (6 page)

Kayla and Liv’s expressions turned sour.

Sylla nodded solemnly. "Exactly. Imagine…" her voice dropped again and Kayla and Liv were forced to inch a little closer. "Imagine, if you dare, the vile stench of a hot summer’s day. It’s enough to turn the strongest of stomachs. Now, most of this foul matter eventually drained down into Nor’ Loch, the low point of the city, which also happened to be the water supply that was used for drinking and bathing and so on."

Liv shuddered. "Ewww."

"In the year of our Lord sixteen and forty-five, the plague came to Edinburgh. Rats brought it. Or to be more precise, fleas on rats. Rats became infected when the fleas bit them. The vile little rodents eat garbage and human waste; the streets were teaming with them. Do you know what happens when someone contracts the plague, Liv?"

Liv swallowed. "They die?"

"Oh, yes, they die. But it’s
how
they die that makes it so remarkable. At first it seems as though they’ve caught nothing more then a cold. They get the chills, a fever, and cough a bit, nothing too serious. Until the second day.…"

Kayla wrapped her arm around Liv’s shoulders when she felt her partner grow more tense as the tale progressed.

"On the second day, tiny red dots appear all over the poor soul’s body. Then they can’t hide it. Everyone knows! And they run at the sight of you. ‘Plague bearer!’ they shout. ‘Carrier of the Black Death!’ Tumors form in your armpits and your groin, growing by the hour, dark circles ring the victims eyes." Sylla’s hands flew to her chest. "You begin to vomit blood and your stomach twists with maddening cramps. Enormous, festering boils cover most of your body and fill to breaking point with hot, thick pus. And break they do, sending more disease-filled fluid over your skin, creating more and more boils." Sylla finally took a breath.

So did Liv.

"Then the boils turn black as death itself, and soon your body is as splotchy as a rotting corpse. That’s why it’s called the Black Death." Sylla’s tone turned more conversational. "You’ve probably heard that term used before."

Liv nodded dumbly, green eyes wide.

"In that year of Pestilence, the people of Edinburgh were dying by the thousands and the dark streets now stank with the foul odor of rotting flesh as well as waste. The City Council tried everything to stem the tide of death. It thought pets might spread the disease and ordered all the city’s cats and dogs killed." Sylla sighed. "Of course, dogs and cats killed rats, and without them the rat population swelled and the disease claimed more and more lives. Why—" She looked up at Kayla, who quirked a slender eyebrow, letting Sylla know it was time to bring her tale to a rousing end.

The older woman cleared her throat. "Back to Mary King’s Close. It’s a dark, narrow alleyway that still exists to this very day. The plague hit the tenements there especially hard. The City Council was desperate. It had to do
something
or they would all perish. Nearly half the population of Edinburgh had already fallen victim. Mary Kings Close was known to harbor a great many sinners, and had been hit especially hard by the disease."

"You mean Catholics," Kayla snorted.

"Ay, they were mostly Catholic." Sylla shot Kayla an annoyed glance for the interruption. "In an effort to stop the spreading doom, the entrance to the close was boarded shut and guards were posted there. No one was to go in or out.
Ever.
All this was done with four
hundred
men, women, and children
still inside
. Their cries for food, water, and mercy rang out for days and days until finally all went silent. And every single wretched, pitiful soul perished in abject misery."

Kayla frowned at Liv’s suddenly unhealthy pallor. "Enough," she warned Sylla.

"Fine." Sylla brushed a piece of non-existent lint from her skirts. "I was finished anyway," she said, adding a touch of martyrdom for flair.

Subtly, Liv gave Kayla’s hand a reassuring squeeze. "I’m fine, Kayla." Liv turned back to Sylla. "What happened next?"

She smirked at Kayla before continuing. "The plague continued, of course. The City sent two butchers into Mary Kings Close and they dismembered the decaying bodies and removed them from their urban tomb. Slowly, the plague burned itself out and then vanished, disappearing just as mysteriously as it came." Sylla’s voice took on a woeful quality. "But the tortured souls of Mary Kings Close haunt Edinburgh to this very day."

"Oh." Liv rubbed her eyes, somewhat dumbfounded. She had no idea how to respond to that story. "That was… an… well, it was interesting and—"

"Was it really?" Sylla suddenly grinned broadly and Kayla had to use every ounce of her will power not to recoil at the sight. "Wonderful!" She clapped her hands together gleefully. "Do you think I should spend more time on the pus and blisters?"

Liv stared at Sylla in wonder.

But Kayla thought about the question. "No. I’d say that was just about right. Some do, some don’t. But you might mention that when an infected flea bites a human, it regurgitates a speck of adulterated blood into its victim, passing along the disease. "

"Regurgitation. Excellent!" Sylla looked directly at Liv. "I’m moonlighting as a guide for one of our city’s many ‘ghost walks’. We go right past Mary Kings Close and I’ve been practicing my story. Folks do love to hear about ghosts and pus. But best of all, I can wear my Nikes under my costume. Anyway…" she pushed up to her feet, "I’ll go and find my husband, Mr. Cobb, and wrap up your twenty-five pounds of shortbread. I can’t imagine what’s keeping him."

"Fifteen pounds," Kayla clarified.

"Right. That’s what I said. Twenty pounds." And with that, Sylla Cobb sauntered out of the room, whistling a happy tune as she mentally calculated the sale.

When she was out of sight, Liv rested her head in her hands and laughed weakly. "Oh, my God, Kayla. That has to be one of the most demented people I have ever met."

Kayla chuckled softly and leaned back. She stretched her arms high over her head. "I’d agree with that assessment. And when she smiled…."

Liv’s whole body shook and she wrapped her arms around herself. "Ugh. I know. It was the most unnatural facial expression I’ve ever seen on a human." She exhaled a long slow breath and pinned Kayla with an inquiring stare. "You knew what she was going to say, didn’t you?"

"I went on one of the ghost walks a few years ago. It was fun, I suppose, but highly unscientific."

"You sound like Spock."

"The baby doctor?"

"The Vulcan."

"Oh." Kayla’s eyebrows lifted and unconsciously felt her ears to see if they were too pointy. "Are you calling me a geek?"

"Pretty much," Liv said amiably.

"Okay. I was just checking."

"I just thank God Sylla’s gross tale was fiction." Liv’s face twisted in disgust. "That was horrible."

Fiction? Oh, boy.
"Ahh.…" Kayla chewed her lip. "Listen, Liv—"

Liv shook her head. "No, no, no.
You
listen." She waggled her finger at her lover. "I don’t care about the truth. I just don’t want nightmares. I’m very talented when it comes to harnessing the power of denial. Just ask my high school boyfriend. Now, repeat after me: It was just a story…." She smiled impishly. "And I love you more than a pig loves slop, Liv."

Kayla’s eyebrows jumped. "Only if you say the same to me – except that you have to love me more than shortbread cookies."

"Don’t push your luck."

Kayla burst out laughing. "I’ll do my best."

"Thank you," Liv said sassily.

"It was just a story. And I love you
way
more than a pig loves slop."

Liv kissed her friend on the cheek then nuzzled the soft skin there. "Now isn’t this nicer than talking about pus?"

L
IV LOOKED OUT the window again. She sighed. Brody was still handing out tickets. The blonde woman moved back to the fireplace and examined the large oil painting of a dog.

All the while Kayla sat quietly.

"I’m bored," Liv said, a little embarrassed by how juvenile the words sounded once she said them aloud. Then her face lit up. "Wanna neck while we wait for Mr. Cobb?" she asked hopefully, flopping down on the far end of the sofa then scampering across it to Kayla.

Kayla tapped her index finger against her chin and pretended to seriously consider the question. "What if someone catches us?"

"What if they don’t?" Liv countered, her gaze dropping to Kayla’s full lips. She inched a little closer to the object of her desire.

"What if they do?"

Liv idly fingered the neck of Kayla’s sweater. "They might not," she reminded insistently. One hand slid beneath soft hair, letting the thick strands slide between its fingers before finding its way to the back of Kayla’s neck.

Quite without her permission, Kayla’s gaze fixed itself on Liv’s mouth. And refused to move. She licked her lips and leaned forward. "But—"

"They won’t," Liv promised, closing her eyes just as their lips…

"Oh, yes they will," a deep Scottish voice boomed from the doorway.

Kayla flew off the couch, nearly knocking Liv over in the process. "I… I…" Her eyes darted wildly from Liv to the man.

He began to laugh heartily, the movement causing his bulky form to shake. He held up a placating hand. "No need to get upset,
lassies
."

Liv scowled at Kayla. "Or dump your girlfriend on her ass," she mumbled.

Aw, shit.
Kayla offered Liv a contrite look. "Sorry. I… uh." Her mouth snapped shut. "Just sorry," she finally said, wincing. She extended her hand and hauled Liv to her feetThe man’s eyes shifted back and forth between the women. He smiled indulgently. "Hello, ladies. Welcome to Cobb Manor." Like Brody’s, his voice was bright and cheerful, but with an even heavier brogue. "There’s no need for introductions," he assured them. "My friends call me Badger. Have done ever since I was a wee bairn. But that’s another story." With a confident air, he walked right past them both and sat down in the recliner in front of the sofa. "Sylla explained what you wanted to know. I’m only sorry I kept you waiting. "

"Not a problem." Kayla blinked a few times. She wasn’t expecting Sylla’s husband to be quite so old. Robust, however, was the word that came to mind when she looked at him. His clear eyes, spry step, and engaging manner indicated he was in good health and better spirits. Not bad for someone who was easily in his middle sixties.

"Did Sylla, The Sullen, scare you?" He laughed again, low and deep. "She’s been telling that nasty story to anyone who will listen. I personally think it’s more gross than frightening." He put his finger over his lips. "Shhh… But that’s my little secret."

Taking their cue from Badger, Liv and Kayla both sat back down.

He looked at them both for a long moment, saying nothing. But Kayla didn’t experience the unnerving feeling that often accompanied such scrutiny. It was, she decided, comfortable.

There was a gentleness and intensity in his pale eyes that Liv instantly found appealing and she found herself relaxing.
Or maybe I just have a thing for blue eyes,
she admitted privately.

Badger’s thick hair and full beard stood out against his ruddy skin and were as white as new snow. Even the patch of curly chest hair that showed in the opening of his shirt was white. He wore a kilt and shirt that matched Brody’s, and by the way he moved, she could tell he was more comfortable in them than the younger Cobb. A couple of inches shorter than Kayla’s five feet eleven, he was sturdily built, with thick forearms and calves and a chest like a tree trunk. When he smiled, Liv couldn’t help but smile back. He looked a lot Santa Claus – if Santa were willing to go to a local pub with you and toss a few back.

The man’s face suddenly turned a little sheepish. "I’m sorry for startling you. That was a little mean." But there was an undisguised twinkle in his eyes that kept his apology from being
too
sincere.

"Apology accepted," Liv said readily.

"Good." Badger nodded approvingly. Every couple had to have a peacemaker. And in this case it was obviously the pretty, green-eyed lass. "I understand from Sylla that you only have a couple of hours before you need to return to town." He pulled his pipe from the well-worn, badger-pelt sporran at his waist and held it up for their inspection. "Do you mind?"

Kayla shook her head. "Not at all."

He grinned and lit it. A few puffs later and the sweet aroma of pipe tobacco filled the room. "I don’t know if I can tell you Faylinn Cobb’s whole story in just two hours," he warned, closing his eyes in pleasure as he drew in a deep, smoke-filled breath. "She was an interesting woman and I don’t like stopping a tale too many times once I’ve started." He pulled the pipe from between his teeth. "Stops the flow of the story."

Kayla’s worked her jaw.
God, is everyone in this family a wanna-be actor?
"We
could
come back," she supplied somewhat reluctantly. "Later in the week maybe."

"Aye, you could… tomorrow?"

Blue eyes narrowed. "Maybe."

Liv patted Kayla’s knee. She would come back as many times as it took. Assuming she could still walk after consuming all that shortbread. Now that her appetite was back she felt ravenous.