Page 13 of Wendy Meets the Highlander Hamish (Scottish Highlander I Never Knew #5)
Artair stopped, his fork halfway to his mouth. “Wait, did you say they can appear human?”
Wendy nodded. “I did. But what I found most intriguing in the book I was reading, was that they can be captured, albeit with great difficulty."
Hamish's brow furrowed. “Is that nae what we’re doing with the bridle, lass?”
“It doesnae seem very helpful information, except that we may now be looking for a human,” Crisdean added.
"That’s true, but from what I read of the ones who have been captured in the past, they were forced to act as beasts of burden for their captors, unable to shift or change forms for a long period of time.
Eventually though, in every story of them being captured they always found a way to escape.
And when they do, they take a particularly malicious form of revenge. "
“So what are we to do, lass? I doubt the kelpie will be able to free itself from the bridle, and we donnae wish to put it to work, merely send it back to the Fae realm and stop it from harming any more of our people,” Hamish replied.
“I suppose if we found it in its human form, we could ask it nicely to stop, but I donnae believe that it will do what we ask, so I am open to suggestions if’n you’ve got one. ”
Wendy sighed. “I don’t know. I’m still working on that.”
As they returned to their meal, their conversation turned to strategy and preparations for their encounter with the kelpies. As they chatted Wendy’s mind caught on something Hamish had said about asking the kelpie to stop. Was it possible to talk to them? Could she try?
"Hamish, has anyone tried to communicate with the kelpie? To understand why it has become aggressive after so many years of peaceful coexistence in the ruins?" she asked. Maybe there was some reason that they’d yet to see for it attacking humans after so long.
Hamish scratched his chin, his eyes narrowing in concentration. "Nay, lass, not that I'm aware of. Folk here tend to steer clear of the kelpies, not engage in conversation with them."
Undeterred, Wendy continued, "What if we could find a way to communicate with it? To understand its grievances, if there are any, and maybe find a peaceful resolution to all of this?"
Hamish raised an eyebrow, amusement and skepticism playing on his features. "You want to talk to the kelpie? That's a bold idea, lass. But how do you propose we do that?"
An idea was forming in Wendy’s head about that. "We could try to summon it, make an offering to it or something. If we can communicate with the kelpies, we might find a way to appease them without resorting to capturing the main one in iron."
Hamish and his brothers chuckled, clearly entertained by Wendy's audacity. "Summoning a kelpie, now that's a notion I've nae heard before. You have a daring spirit, lass. But you should know, dealing with Fae creatures is unpredictable and risky," Hamish said.
The more Wendy thought about it, the more determined she was to at least try. "Sometimes, risk is necessary, especially when faced with the unknown. We won't know unless we try, Hamish."
“We shall see, lass. If it tis possible, then we’ll try it, but I donnae think it t’will work.”
“All I ask is that we try,” Wendy said with a smile as they finished their meal.
Thirty minutes later they were back on their horses and headed toward Loch Finlaggan and the old Donald Castle ruins.
Hamish rode at the forefront, leading the way.
Wendy followed; her senses heightened by the ideas flowing through her mind.
Artair and Crisdean were close behind, the clippity-clop of their horses’ hooves sounded like a chorus surrounding her.
Finally they arrived at the ruins on the shore of Loch Finlaggan. They set up camp within the somewhat protective embrace of the crumbling walls, though Wendy voiced her fear that they might all come tumbling down upon their heads at some point.
“We’ll be fine, lass,” Hamish assured her. “These walls will nae be comin’ down anytime soon and will help protect us at night from the Highland winds that bring a mighty chill.”
“Are we going to go looking for the kelpie today?” Wendy asked as she noticed the sun was getting lower in the sky. It had to have gone well past three or four in the afternoon. The sun normally set a little before eight these days as spring moved into summer.
“We’ll keep watch, but nae, I think we’ll stay around our camp for now, give you a chance to think on your strategy for speaking with the kelpie,” Hamish replied.
“I’ll keep an eye upon the loch for any movement,” Crisdean said, striding toward the opening in the wall.
“And I’ll gather some wood for a fire. Hamish, why donnae you an’ Wendy prepare a meal for us?”
“Tis a fine idea, Artair,” he agreed.
Wendy and Hamish worked together pulling things from saddlebags and getting not only a meal ready to cook over the open campfire, but also laying out bedrolls and setting out lanterns they’d need to light once the sun went down.
Wendy noticed that Hamish had laid his bedroll out directly next to hers, while Artair had spread his on the other side of the fire and Crisdean’s was close to his, but not as close as Hamish’s was to Wendy’s.
She hoped it was because Hamish wanted to have her close to him.
Later that night, in the quiet moments before sleep claimed her, Wendy's heart echoed with the enchantment of the Highland night. The ruins held secrets, and the loch whispered tales of things she’d only dreamed of knowing in her time.
As she succumbed to the embrace of slumber, visions of the kelpie and the mysteries that awaited them danced in her dreams, entwined with the presence of Hamish, her silent guardian in the velvety tapestry of the Highland night.