Sarah Gabriel (24 page)

Relieved at minimal histrionics, James picked up his leather bag and followed Donal MacArthur and Elspeth outside. There, the wind was brisk and damp, and glowering clouds hovered over the mountain peak, visible from the inn yard.

Donal came forward and offered him a walking stick. James saw that Elspeth had one, too, a thick gnarly stick somewhat shorter than his own. He accepted it, knowing the day would involve strenuous walking and climbing. Though his leg often ached in rainy and cold weather, he had noticed lately that his injured leg had felt close to normal much of the time, perhaps a result of the beneficial Highland atmosphere, said to be excellent for one’s health. He had first noticed it after the night of the wild storm, and whenever he was with Elspeth. Whatever caused it, good air or exercise, he was glad of any improvement. Although the doctors had long assured him that he would limp and be in pain all his life, he had tried not to let the injury, or his expectations of it, restrict him.

“This is fine,” he said, tapping the walking stick, looking at Donal and Elspeth.

“We will meet you back here in the late afternoon,”
Patrick said, having just consulted with Mr. MacKimmie. “We will drive back in darkness, but there should be no trouble. Best of luck with your rock hunting, James.”

“Bring back souvenirs,” Philip called. “Diamonds and sapphires!”

James laughed. “More likely dirt-encrusted rock crystal if we’re lucky. Late afternoon it is.” He turned to Elspeth and Donal. “Are you ready, then?”

“We are,” Elspeth said, though he heard a slight tremor in her light, clear voice.

Elspeth was quiet as the three of them walked over heathery moors for more than a mile. The foothills of the mountain sloped rather abruptly away from the heath, and as they climbed, little was said between them. Partway up the slope, Elspeth paused to catch her breath, standing on scruffy, rock-studded turf.

The view from that spot was magnificent, the steely surface of the loch smooth, the whole of its length visible below them, fringed with heathery moorland and blazing autumn-toned trees to one side, and the dark slopes of the mountain to the other. Above, the high peaks of Ben Venue, on whose slopes they stood, were obscured by the angle, and by a heavy ring of clouds and mist at the top.

James and Donal stopped, too, and James shaded his eyes with a hand. “Mica and schist,” he said. “Up there. That glossy black rock. Even from here, the upper slopes seem to be made up of mostly that, with shale scree along the sides. The schist indicates massive heat early in the mountain’s formation. A good sign for my research.”

“We are not here for your research,” Elspeth said.

“I am aware.” Shouldering his leather pack with its long strap, he walked ahead.

“Then why are we here, if not for rocks?” Donal called from several feet ahead.

“To find the Goblin Cave. Do you know of it, Grandda?” Elspeth asked.

Donal waited for James and Elspeth to come closer. “Coire nan Uruiskin,” he said. “Why do you want to go there? Is it for the rocks, Struan?”

“That, and because I promised your granddaughter that we would look for the fairy treasure.”

“Grandda, we have something to tell you,” Elspeth said then.

Folding his hands on his walking stick, Donal looked stern. “I am listening.”

“I have agreed to marry Lord Struan.” She lifted her head. “As you wanted. As we all want.” She smiled at James, who touched her arm briefly.

Donal broke into a smile. “Excellent! But will you take her to Edinburgh?”

“We have not yet decided that,” Elspeth said quickly.

“Elspeth has charged me with a condition,” James said. “I promised to look for the missing gold while we are out today.”

“That gold will not be found, I think, nor is this the place. It is not here. Do you know what they say of Coire nan Uruiskin?” He waited, and they shook their heads. “Cave of the Goblins, they call it. The urisks are small goblin creatures who haunt rocky places and cause mischief. Some say they are fairies, some not. They can be helpful to humans if treated politely. But
the Fey, the older
Sidhe
, come here, too. It is one of the places where they live. Inside that cave is a portal to the fairy realm.”

“Then it is a good place to search for the treasure,” Elspeth said.

“Why would their missing treasure be just under their noses, in their own parlor?” Donal huffed. “Then they would have it. So it must be hidden elsewhere.”

“Grandda,” she said. “It is time we told James why all of this is so important.” Donal MacArthur nodded gravely.

James reached inside his coat pocket and drew out a folded page. “I believe I already know the story, or part of it. I found this account among my grandmother’s papers. It tells of a weaver and his son, and their meetings with the fairies—and tells of the girl-child given into the weaver’s care.”

Stunned, Elspeth reached out her hand. “Let me see.” He gave her the page, which she read quickly, seeing her story summarized there. Silently she handed the sheet to her grandfather, who read it also, and circled it back to James. “That is the story you always told me, Grandda.”

“Aye so,” Donal said. “Lady Struan did write it down after all. I told her part of it myself. How she knew the rest about Niall, I cannot say. It is true, what is written there.”

“I am not sure what to think about all this,” James said. “But I trust you both. If you say it is so—well, then, I will do my best to believe it.”

“Thank you,” Donal said quietly.

James nodded and tucked the page back into his pocket. “And Elspeth’s birthday? When is that, exactly?” He looked at her. “You have never said.”

“October the twentieth,” she replied. “Two days from now.”

“I would offer felicitations,” James said, “but I think you will not be happy until you see the twenty-first.”

She smiled wanly, dreading to talk of it. Suddenly anxious and shivering, she pulled her plaid higher in the chill wind. “Grandda, where is this Goblin Cave?”

“I tell you, the treasure is not hidden there. We should stay away.”

“I would like to see it, if only for geological reasons,” James said. “If there is no treasure, there may be something valuable for my work.” He reached into the leather knapsack he carried, and drew out a stone. “There may be more stones like this one.”

“The blue stone!” Donal reached out for it, and turned it in the dim light. “This is the one,” he confirmed.

“It was in my grandmother’s collection, but it really belongs to you,” James said. “I would like to know where it came from originally. Blue agate is rare, and a deposit of it could be important for many reasons.”

“I did not find this stone. It was given to me by a fairy queen years ago, to use as a key to their realm on the appointed days when I go there—”

James frowned. “To the fairy world?”

“I tried to tell you,” Elspeth said, thinking back to their evening at Struan House.

Donal nodded. “I have seen similar stones in this mountain, and in the hill behind Struan House, where the grotto now lies.”

“Then I shall look there. For now, let us proceed to the cave, sir.”

Donal nodded and led them up the slope, James
walking steadily using the stick as an aid, his stride long and sure, though Elspeth noticed his uneven gait. But she knew that even if his leg made the strenuous walk difficult, he would not complain.

Though it was barely noon, the sky clouded over in a cool mist. Elspeth felt a few raindrops on her cheeks as she looked up. She continued behind the men, whose longer legs covered the upward slope more quickly, belying any impediment. They advanced up the mountainside following in a narrow dip between two foothill slopes, a natural ditch like a tuck in a quilt. A slim runnel trickled downward between slopes of rock spotted with turf and brush. Ahead, on one side of the mountain, Elspeth saw a vast piling of rock and scree, as if it had tumbled eons ago from the massive black shoulders of the mountaintop, more than two thousand feet above them.

Now and then as they advanced, James would stop—not to rest his leg, unless that was his underlying reason—but to pick up rocks and examine them, sometimes dropping small samples into his sack, sometimes skittering them down the mountainside.

“Limestone with marine fossils, and signs of the Old Red Sandstone layer,” he told them at one point. “Yet it seems volcanic beneath,” he murmured a little later, to no one in particular. He drew out pencil and small notebook and wrote something down. “Granite and basalt. Fascinating.”

Donal looked back at Elspeth. “He may not understand about fairies, but I do not understand what is interesting about a lot of old rock.” She laughed.

Along the way, he stopped to brush his hand over a section of what looked like plain rocks to Elspeth, and then he stood and handed her a few small stones.
She gasped to see the glitter of a few perfectly formed crystals, both clear and peat-colored.

“Rock crystal and cairngorm, or smoky quartz,” he explained. Appreciating their simple beauty, she thanked him, tucking the crystals in the pocket of her skirt.

“This way,” Donal said, and led them sideways across the slope, which was easier than heading straight up. The ground was still turf and rock, rough and runneled, and they used the walking sticks liberally, with an occasional helping hand thrust out, one to another. Ahead, Elspeth saw a desolate expanse of fallen rock. Overhead, mist gathered thick, and raindrops began to patter their heads and shoulders, splattering on the rocks.

“The Goblin Cave is there,” Donal said, pointing again. At the base of a cliff among the scree, Elspeth saw a dark opening in a fold of rock. “Now you have seen it. But we cannot go inside. It is not safe there.”

“Grandda, we came all this way. What if this is where the gold is hidden?”

“The power of the Fey is strong here. We should stay away. Though you two have protection against them, more so than I.”

“What is that?” James asked.

“Love,” Donal said. “The bond of your love guards you, and that is what will break their hold over Elspeth—if that treasure is found. It would be stronger if—”

“If what?” Elspeth asked.

“If you were already wed. Though the love is there for anyone to see between you,” Donal said. “It should be enough.”

“Should be?” Elspeth said, again feeling nervous.
The rain began in earnest, and she reached out to James, and he took her hand. “Grandda, come with us. We will search together for the fairy gold. We will not be long.”

“It is not there. Why would they have it there, in their own place?”

“Mr. MacArthur, may I see the agate?” Taking the rock, James held it up to the light, and looked around. “Ah, as I hoped.” He offered the stone to them. “Look at the stone. There is a resemblance to the landscape—can you see it?”

Elspeth took it and studied it. Suddenly the shapes and points seemed to form an image. She gasped. “The crystal looks like the cave opening, but in miniature! But how could that be?”

Donal frowned, looking at the agate next. “I have held this stone many times, and have seen this cave, but I never noticed that before. How did you discover it?”

“Elspeth noticed the cave in Niall’s painting, and last night I compared the agate geode to the picture, and saw distinct similarities. Now that we’re here, the Goblin Cave seems like the place to look for this treasure.”

“Why would Niall paint that cave in his picture?” Donal was still frowning.

“It may be a sort of clue,” James said. “Perhaps he wanted to help his daughter, sir—and his father. Perhaps he wanted to lead you to the treasure, so that you could both be free.”

“Oh, Grandda,” Elspeth said, tucking her hands in the crook of James’s arm. “Oh, what if James is right? My father may have meant this to help you one day, knowing he might not be with you.”

Donal sighed aloud, sighed again. “So you think Niall left us a map? Huh,” he said. “But there is nothing inside that cave but more rock, and some signs of the smugglers who come here now and then. And the fairy portal is there, invisible to all, but dangerous. We must stay away.”

“Nonetheless,” James said, shouldering his pack and grasping his walking stick, “I intend to go inside.”

“For the rocks?” Donal asked.

“For the promise I gave Elspeth. You two wait here.”

“I am coming with you,” she said.

“If there is any real danger in this situation,” he replied, sounding unconvinced of that, “it is to you, not me. Wait here, or go back with your grandfather, and I will meet you later.” He kissed her brow and turned away. Elspeth grabbed his coat sleeve.

“I will come with you. Grandda—” She turned, the rain now pattering the slope.

“Go ahead,” Donal said. “Go with him. Keep the stone with you,” he said, for she still held it. “You may need its power. I will wait here.” He tugged his flat blue bonnet lower and drew his plaid up over the shoulders of his worn jacket.

She could not bear to leave him sitting there alone in the rain, but she knew he would not come with them, once he had refused. “Go back, Grandda,” she said. “Do not wait here for us, in the cold and the rain. We will be fine—but I do not know how long it will take us in the cave, with James collecting his rocks, and having to search for any hidden treasure. Walk back, and we will meet you at the ferryman’s house.”

He shook his head in protest. Then suddenly he
sighed out. “Perhaps it is best if I do not stay here alone for the Fey to find me. But you are in more danger.”

“Not until my birthday,” she said with a brightness she did not feel. “I am safe until then, and I am safe with James. Go on.” She hugged him and stepped away.

“Eilidh,” he said. “Guard yourself the best way you can.”

Surprised, she turned. Her grandfather had rarely used her Gaelic name, claiming it had an unpredictable power if spoken aloud. “What do you mean to say?”

“I wish you were married to the man already. He is a good man, and your love will protect you both. That way they can have no hold over you. But there is an even stronger bond that they can never break, and that is a love that is not only devoted but united. If only you had married him before this,” he said again, shaking his head.