Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

Orla

T he Auld Mill property was beautiful, just as Derrick had mentioned, and I leaned against my lorry and studied the building for a moment, assessing the situation. Situated on the banks of Loch Mirren, the cream stone building jutted out from the land, a small waterwheel attached to the side of the building where a burn flowed to the loch. Green hills, alight with the first wash of spring, hovered over the mill, strong sentinels ever on watch. Loch Mirren itself lay flat, hardly a ripple in her glass-like surface, and I was drawn to her shores to look out toward the small island that held one of the most powerful items in the world.

Icy cold gripped me, like a frozen corpse scratching at my heart, and I gasped for breath, whirling to look at the building. A shadow shifted in the bottom window, evil oozing out, like an oily blackness slipping across the uneven ground toward my feet. I froze, caught in the hold of whatever darkness seeped toward me, and it was only because of this being's stealthy power that I missed the shrieking behind me.

It was too late.

I was just too late.

An icy wall smashed into me, water crashing over my head, the force of the power thundering over me and dragging me into the frigid waters of Loch Mirren. I had one moment to gasp for breath before I was tumbled under the waves and tossed about, like a sock in a washing machine, and held under.

I wasn't sure if it was the icy water or the fact that I couldn't swim, but for some reason, I didn't fight. Instead, acceptance filled me as I was tossed about in the water, drifting into darkness, my body going numb as my need for air began to tighten my lungs. Blinking my eyes open, I strained to see through salty murky water, trying to gauge which way was up. Kicking out, flailing, my head popped briefly onto the surface, and I gasped for air just as another wave careened over my head.

But not before a pirate loomed, riding the wave toward me, his hand outstretched.

Surely I was hallucinating from lack of air and sheer panic.

In fact, seeing a pirate ride a wave, his mustache billowing in the wind, forced a giggle out of my lips, and for the fun of it—I put my hand out to him.

I mean, of course there wasn't really a pirate about to rescue me from an attack. I was delusional, slipping into the murky depths of Loch Mirren, knowing I didn't have the strength or acumen to fight the evil being from the Auld Mill on my own. I didn't really know, nor did I have the air or the mental capacity to understand what was happening.

Life-changing events really do happen fast. People always talk about what they would do in an emergency, but the reality is, you have moments, if not seconds, to make decisions that will change an outcome. And I, sad to say, couldn't quite get my legs or body to work well enough to claw my way back up to the surface of Loch Mirren.

Swimming lessons hadn't exactly been in my budget growing up.

A hand closed over mine and I was ripped from the water, propelled forward across the surface, and deposited in a heap on the beach, gasping for air. I didn't look up, didn't care what I would see, and instead crawled across the beach, forcing my body to move, move, run , away from the edge of the loch. Tremors shook me as I scrambled, clawing my way up the side of the hill, until I landed in a heap next to my lorry, my back resting against the tire as my entire body shook with adrenaline.

Footsteps crunched closer, and I wiped the water from my eyes, raising my head.

"Well, now, honey. I can't say I much enjoy swimming either, but if I'm going to do it, it'll be in that pretty turquoise sea right outside my doorstep at home in the Keys, not in this dark and dingy water."

A woman stood before me with luminous brown skin and wise eyes, wearing a tartan caftan with sparkles and feathers at the hem. A silky black turban wrapped her head and at the center winked a jet-black stone. I hadn't even known that caftans could be made with tartan, let alone sparkles and feathers, and I gaped at the woman.

The pirate hovered over her shoulder.

A ghost.

He was a ghost pirate, and somehow, he'd managed to help me from the water.

"I love seeing you swim, my lovemountain," the pirate all but purred.

"You just like seeing me in my bikini, Rafe." A loud chuckle reverberated from the woman, the sound filling me with warmth, and I tried to gather my thoughts.

I still wasn't entirely sure that I wasn't dead.

Movement caught my eye, and I angled my head, peering behind the woman's caftan to see three husky men in kilts, with their shirts off, mind you, leaning against a car. Their muscular arms were crossed over their burly chests, and they waited, a mix between male strippers and beefed-up security guards, and I blinked at them.

Right, I had to be dead. Was I a ghost now?

"Am I…dead?" I asked. Wiping water from my face, I tried to fight through chills that wracked my body. My teeth chattered together, and I didn't think that my teeth would still chatter if I was dead.

"Lads! A blanket for this woman." The lady in the tartan caftan snapped her fingers, and then snorted, leaning over to whisper to me. " Lads . Don't you love saying that? I do. Sounds so proper. And here I am taking myself on a tour of the Highlands. Never thought I'd be one for a man in a kilt, but I have to say, I can see the appeal."

I goggled up at the men who approached, all muscles and bare skin, and one crouched to wrap a blanket around me.

My eyes widened.

Listen, I've lived in Scotland my whole life. It wasn't unheard of to catch a glimpse beneath a kilt on a windy day here or there. But when a man crouches in front of you, wearing a kilt, while you're sitting on the ground, let's just say…it was enough to bring the heat coursing back through my body.

"Th…th…thank you," I stuttered, accepting the blanket, and the woman grinned at me.

"What's your name, child? I think we need to have a chat about that nasty bugger that just tried to kill you."

So she'd seen it too. And didn't seem much bothered by the darkness. Interesting.

The woolen blanket helped ward off some of the chill, and I tucked it more tightly around me as I stood, glancing back out to the now placid waters of Loch Mirren.

"I'm Orla."

The woman threw her hands to her waist and grinned, looking me up and down.

"Isn't that just fine, then, honey? I'm Miss Elva. Look at that, Rafe. Elva and Orla. Sisters from another mister."

"She doesn't look anything like you, my lovemountain." Rafe, apparently the name of the pirate ghost, adjusted his hat and sneered as the half-naked men in kilts returned to the car. "Nice skirts, lads ."

The men clearly couldn't hear him, or I'm sure they would have corrected the pirate, as some Scots would—with their fists.

"She can be my sister if I want her to be my sister, Rafe." Miss Elva scolded the pirate, and his cheeks pinkened. "She's clearly messing with magick and can see ghosts. That makes her more my sister than most, doesn't it?"

"Of course, my beauty. You're right, she's obviously your sister."

Nobody had ever called me their sister before, and yet, the word warmed me in a way that I hadn't known it would. Granted, this woman towered over me both in height and size, not to mention the clear strength of magickal power that emanated from her, and I very much did want to be her sister. She felt safe to me. Pulling the blanket more tightly around my shoulders, I gave her a tentative smile.

"You know about magick?"

"Ooof, child. I am magick." Miss Elva threw her head back and laughed that rolling laugh again and waved a hand in the air. "Do you not see this fabulousness?"

"I'll admit, I've never seen a tartan caftan before."

"Do you like it?" Miss Elva preened for me. "I made it before the trip. I'm a fashion designer as well as a practitioner of magick."

"It's pretty fabulous." It was at that. I'd never be able to pull it off, but Miss Elva owned the look.

"Now, honey. Tell me what that was all about? If it wasn't for Rafe having a fit while we were driving by, I'm not sure we would have stopped in time."

"I saw you. Before I went under again. You… saved me. A hero." I turned to the ghost who sniffed and pretended to look unaffected.

"Can't let a pretty lady drown, can I? Though you don't hold a candle to my lovemountain, of course. Could use some more meat on your bones. Do they not feed you here? Oh, you must be poor. The poor were always so skinny in my time."

I raised my eyebrows. There was a lot to unpack, and I wasn't sure which of his comments to respond to.

"Rafe! Take the compliment and shut up. You can't be calling people out on their body size. Or their money. Ignore him." Miss Elva gave Rafe a sharp look.

"Well, I'm sorry if I'm just a bit annoyed having to ride around with them all day." Rafe fumed, raising a hand to the husky men by the car.

"You're just mad Rosita didn't come on the trip. Doesn't mean I can't have my fun."

"Nothing stops you from having your fun, lovemountain."

"Damn right, Rafe. Best way to live your life."

I blinked, staying quiet as they argued back and forth, certain this was one of the weirder days of my life. Clearing my throat, I interrupted a tirade from Rafe about the level of nakedness of their car companions.

"The Kelpies are a threat to Loren Brae, but we're working on subduing them. So long as you don't go in the water, you should be safe."

"Is that right? Huh. That's just fine then. But that wasn't a Kelpie that tried to kill you." Miss Elva raised an eyebrow at the water and shivered.

"It wasn't?" I mean, it had happened so fast, I couldn't really say.

"Similar. A water creature. Likely a nuckelavee."

"A what?" This was all new to me .

"Child, don't you know your myths? Nasty beast. Dark, dark energy. Creature of the sea, but often terrorizing those on land. Sometimes as a water horse as well. But not Kelpies. Kelpies were sometimes known to be helpful. A nuckelavee, ooooh, honey. Nasty, nasty beast. Mm-hmm."

"Fun to ride though," Rafe said, pretending to wave a fake lasso in the air.

"You didn't ride a nuckelavee, Rafe."

"I most certainly did!" Rafe exclaimed, fury thundering his face. "How do you think I got to her so fast?"

"Mm-hmm, wasn't what it looked like from the shore."

"You couldn't see. Tell her, Orla."

"Um, well, I was kind of drowning, so it was hard to see what was happening, but it did look like you were riding a wave toward me."

"See? She saw me riding something."

"You were surfing the wave. Not riding a nuckelavee. That beast would've sent you right back through the veil."

"This is nonsense! Nonsense! How dare you insult me?" Rafe whizzed off in a fit, winking out of sight, and I just looked at Miss Elva. I had no frame of reference for how to handle this situation.

"He's a bit temperamental. But then, most men are, aren't they? Fragile egos, most of them. Anywho, I'm thinking we need to pack this menace back to where he belongs, right, honey?" Miss Elva nodded toward the Auld Mill.

"You can feel it?"

"Child, I can feel that a thousand miles away. It is not good. Granted, you have all sorts of magick and beasties wandering about in Scotland, don't you? Some the likes I've never seen back home in Tequila Key, that's for certain. It's tough keeping my guards up or I'd be stopping every two seconds to see to one matter or another. But I'm on vacation, aren't I? I can't be responsible for solving the world's problems."

I didn't doubt she could. She was equal parts terrifying and soothing, and I had no idea how to proceed. Not that she seemed to expect much as she just steamrolled right over me and kept talking.

"Let's get this one fixed though, shall we? It's a nasty spirit in there and he needs to head home. Lads." Miss Elva snapped her fingers again and tossed a look over her shoulder at her entourage. "My bag."

One of the half-naked men strolled forward and hooked a large satchel on Miss Elva's arm. I was beginning to see the appeal of having these men at her beck and call.

"Um, what exactly is your plan?" I was dripping wet, the wind had been knocked out of my sails, and if the dark spirit inside this building was what had taken me down, well, let's just say I wasn't entirely pleased about trying to confront it. I had to imagine we looked quite the sight—me, scrawny, pale, my long red hair dripping down my back, and Miss Elva, large, powerful, tartan caftan billowing behind her. An odd pairing, indeed.

"Is that kelp down there?" Miss Elva nodded toward the shoreline where lumps of kelp and other seaweed tangled among the rocks on the shoreline.

"Aye, looks to be."

"Can you gather some while I get prepared?"

"How much?"

"Not much. Just enough for a spell. "

"As I've never done a spell before I'm not quite sure how much you'll be needing."

"Never done…" Miss Elva trailed off in surprise, looking me up and down. "I thought you were magickal."

"Um." Was I? Maybe after the ritual I was. It was hard to say really. I didn't really feel magickal.

"No problem. I got this. You're lucky Miss Elva came along when she did, let me tell you, child. Nasty beastie, hiding out like we can't see him lurking all gross and dirty in there. Just a handful of kelp should be enough."

Something shifted behind the windows of the Auld Mill and Miss Elva sneered.

"Yeah, we see you, beastie. You'd better watch yourself."

Lovely, just lovely. Miss Elva was threatening a sea demon.

This was more than a ghost, and way out of my element, and now somehow, I had to help banish it with magick when I'd never even done a spell before. Well, the Order of Caledonia ritual notwithstanding. Even so, I was out of my element to say the least, but that seemed to be keeping with the theme of my life lately. Taking a deep breath, I dug in my lorry for my tool belt, added my special hammer, and grabbed a canvas bag to collect kelp in. Clambering down to the shore, I took a deep breath. To say I was nervous after nearly drowning was an understatement. I could only hope the "nasty beastie" stayed in the Auld Mill, quietly growling at Miss Elva. I didn't love the water the first time, and I am not keen to go in again. I quickly gathered the kelp, the salty brine stinging my hands, the scent pungent in the damp air. I was also surprised that nobody in town had seen the commotion. Were they all hiding indoors today?

"You don't think those men are sexy, do you?"

I screeched at the voice at my ear, jumping to see Rafe hovering over me.

"Bloody hell," I gasped, almost dropping the blanket around my shoulders.

"I agree. That's where those lads belong. Look at them…trying to gain her affection. They might get her for a moment, but she's mine for a lifetime." Rafe stared after Miss Elva, adoration in his eyes.

"I mean, they are handsome. If you're one for those muscular types." I glanced away from Rafe's scrawny arms.

"You would say that. Looking like a drowned rat and all."

"Pardon me?" Not that I was going to fight a ghost, but the thought drifted briefly through my mind.

"Rafe, you leave her alone. We need to get moving or we'll never get dinner, and you know how I get when I'm hangry."

"Aye, Rafe, run along." Rafe zipped away and I tried to bury the annoyance at being called a drowned rat. I knew I was on the thin side, but I didn't need to be reminded about how unwomanly I looked next to a curvy goddess like Miss Elva. I was all muscle and sinew brought on by years of hard work and conserving my meals. Not exactly screaming sexy or womanly here, but that wasn't really the objective when I was busy hammering nails and building things all day, was it?

Stomping back up the shoreline, I stopped by Miss Elva, bag in hand .

"I think there's enough here."

"Too bad it's damp. We need to burn it. I'll just use a little extra magick. The tough part's going to be getting inside so we can properly do the spell. Let's go."

"Um, just go? Inside? With the nuckelavee?"

"Yup. It's going to try to scare us, but we're stronger than that, aren't we?"

Were we? Because it had come pretty damn close to killing me moments ago.

"I'm sorry, but how do you know how to do any of this?" I squinted at the stranger who had appeared from seemingly nowhere sparkling in a tartan caftan.

"Child. I'm Florida's strongest voodoo priestess. Voodoo isn't my only magick, it's just one of my favorites. If you run in the right circles, you'll likely have heard of Miss Elva, honey, I promise you that."

"And you're in Scotland why?"

"It's called a vacation. Ever taken one?"

"I haven't, no." The words were out before I could stop them, and I realized with startling clarity that I really had never taken a vacation before. It was a luxury I'd never been able to afford. An afternoon in the park or down by the water on a sunny day was the closest thing to a holiday that I'd ever taken.

"Is that right?" Miss Elva made a disapproving noise while she rooted around in her massive bag. "I highly suggest treating yourself. Though Scotland is a bit colder than I prefer."

"Warmest spring we've had in a while."

"So I've been told. And yet, I'm from Florida. Let me tell you…this weather would have our iguanas falling from the trees."

"Um." Did iguanas climb trees? Why would they fall in the cold? Before I could ask, Miss Elva brandished a bottle in her hand.

"Got it. Let's get started."

"What are we doing exactly?"

"First a protection spell for us. Then we'll enter the property, summon Mither, and have her deal with the nasty beastie. After that, we'll ward the place and I'll be on my way to get some food."

She made it sound so easy.

"Mither?"

"Mither o' the Sea. Mother of the ocean, basically, and the only one who can control this one in there." Miss Elva nodded toward the building.

"I don't know what I'm doing." Nerves hummed, causing my stomach to twist. "How am I meant to help? What if I screw it up?"

"Don't you worry. I'm used to working with people who mess up spells regularly. Just focus on the intent, draw on whatever power you can feel inside you, and align yourself with me. I'll lead the spell and we'll get rid of him quickly."

"You make it sound so easy."

"It can be, if you don't screw it up. No sudden movements. Don't step out of the circle. Stay focused. This one in there? Honey, he's going to put up quite a stink. He's having himself a good ol' time up here. He's not going to want to go back. Stay with me, stay focused, and we'll send him packing. "

"Right. Och, I'm nervous."

"Just channel that right into what we want to accomplish."

Miss Elva marched forward, and a soft wailing took up from inside the building, like nails scratching on a chalkboard, and the hairs at the back of my neck rose. Hurrying after her, I clutched the bag of kelp and hoped I hadn't gotten myself in over my head. Miss Elva muttered to herself, rustling around in her handbag, before turning and handing me a small burlap bag about the size of my palm.

"Into your pocket it goes."

"What is this?"

"Your protection."

"Right."

I shoved it in the damp pocket of my overalls, wishing I was at home curled up on the bed watching Goldie spin circles in her bowl. A lump formed in my throat as I thought about who would feed her if I had died today. Poor fish, reliant only on me.

"Basil and bay, protective herbs of might, in this mojo bag, they merge with light. By the guidance of spirits, this spell I weave, protection granted to all who believe."

At Miss Elva's words, a gentle wash of energy coursed over me, and I swear I could see a soft tinge of light surround us. Miss Elva stepped forward and knocked sharply on the door three times.

I gasped as it blew open, slamming against the wall, and the howling increased.

"I'll just be by the car," Rafe called from over our shoulder. "Making sure your friends are safe."

"Damn fool pirate," Miss Elva said, sliding me a look. " Too scared the demon will take him back through the veil with him."

"Would it be easy to do?"

"Oh, we've lost Rafe a time or two, I'll admit it. He's right to keep his distance. Come on then, stick close."

Miss Elva strode inside and I glued myself to her back, stopping short of holding on to her caftan like a child grabbing the hem of her mother's skirt. She stopped abruptly once inside and quickly sprinkled a circle of salt around us.

"Black salt, for protection," Miss Elva said.

Behind her, movement shifted, a dark shape shimmering into solidity for a moment, and my mouth dropped open.

It didn't have skin.

Thick veins, black with blood, corded yellow flesh, with arms that draped almost to the ground ending in claws. He was only solid for a moment, his strength waning as he faded into transparency, as though someone was sliding the button down on a photo editing program to make him more see-through.

"Bloody hell," I gasped.

"Stay with me, Orla. Intent is everything. Kelp?" Miss Elva ordered.

I dug in the bag and held out the damp kelp.

"Into the middle of the circle. We'll use our magick to start it on fire."

I dropped the kelp, making a loose pile between us, trying to ignore the wailing that was beginning to make my entire body shake again. Miss Elva shook a loose white powder on top of the kelp, and then using a blowtorch style lighter, she ignited it. The fire took, and a tendril of smoke drifted into the air.

The nuckelavee lost its mind.

Shrieking, it bounced around the mill, rattling against the walls, and threw loose rocks across the room.

"Gotta move fast now." Miss Elva grabbed my hands, forcing me to look up at her. "Remember. Intent is everything. Stay in the circle."

"Like I'm going to leave your side with this one running about," I muttered and Miss Elva grinned.

"In the name of Papa Legba, gatekeeper divine, let this sacred smoke cleanse and align. With this kelp, I banish all strife, warding off darkness, embracing the light. We call upon Mither o' the Sea, let this spell cleanse and set the Auld Mill free. No longer may the nuckelavee roam, sweet Mither, we beg of you, take his soul home."

A roaring sounded behind me, and I realized it was the waves thrashing against the building, the mill wheel creaking as it began to throttle and turn, the stream surging alongside us. I focused on imagining sending the demon home, trying to tap into that little ball of light I could feel deep in my core, which I likened to a battery. It must be my power source, my own little magickal battery pack, and I tapped into it the best that I could. The nuckelavee shrieked, one last long woeful cry, a sound I would never forget, before light flashed, and a window shattered. Glass flew across the room, narrowly missing us, and fell to the floor in pieces like an icicle exploding on the ground.

Silence fell.

I held my breath, my chest heaving with effort not to run from the building and never return, and Miss Elva squeezed my hand.

"Don't move until I close the circle."

"I don't think I could if I tried."

Miss Elva quickly ran through a ritual of closing the circle, and then she squeezed my hand once more before stepping back.

"Your spirits here are strong. But the good are just as strong as the evil. Mither was surprisingly responsive. Which is good, seeing as how I'm starving. Rafe!" Miss Elva shouted, and Rafe appeared, hovering outside the doorway. "Let's go eat."

"Of course, my lovemountain. Anything for you, my beauty."

"Do you want to join us?" Miss Elva asked, and even though my inclination was to decline, I was fascinated with this wayward traveler who had saved my life.

"Aye, I do."

"Before we go…" Miss Elva handed me another pouch. "Nail this above the door. Have them keep it there if possible."

"Nae bother." Pulling out my hammer and a nail from my tool belt, I secured the pouch by the door frame, happy to help keep this building free of darkness.

I stopped.

A vine of gold leaves was etched in a circle around the base of the wood handle that hadn't been there before. My eyes widened.

"Look at that. This is new."

"Mmm, child. It certainly pretties it up, doesn't it? I'd say the spirits are happy with your work. "

"I didn't do anything."

"Of course you did. I wouldn't have been able to pull off that spell without your power. It's rooted here, which is why Mither appeared so quickly. Don't doubt your own magick."

With those mind-blowing words, Miss Elva strolled out of the building, her caftan billowing in the wind.

"Oh, child? Where should we go for dinner?"

"Um, I'd recommend The Tipsy Thistle. I can meet you there. I'd just like to put some dry clothes on." And feed Goldie.

She needed me. And even more surprising?

Perhaps Loren Brae needed me too.