Page 14 of Wendy Meets the Highlander Hamish (Scottish Highlander I Never Knew #5)

T he group spent the entirety of the next day searching for a sign of the kelpie, but none came.

It wasn’t until well after they’d eaten their evening meal that Hamish had the idea to watch for the creature to come out of hiding in the moonlight.

So they were sitting vigil among the bushes and various shrubs in the chill of the evening air, waiting.

Wendy was cold and about ready to call it a night when suddenly, from the depths of the loch, emerged the large kelpie she’d seen before in its equine form.

It was a creature of ethereal beauty, its coat as dark as the midnight sky, it moved with a grace that belied its deadly nature.

Its eyes gleamed like phosphorescent orbs, capturing the essence of the moonlight.

With a swift motion, Hamish and his brothers lunged forward, attempting to capture the elusive creature. The air crackled with anticipation as they closed in, their weapons glinting in the ghostly radiance.

The kelpie, however, proved to be a master of evasion. It danced on the edge of the loch, slipping through their grasp like a wisp of smoke. Each attempt to ensnare it became a desperate chase, shadows playing a game of tag with moonlit reflections.

In the chaos, Crisdean, a silhouette against the shimmering waters, found himself ensnared by the kelpie's mystical grip. The night took a sinister turn as the creature plunged beneath the surface, dragging Crisdean into the inky depths.

Wendy's breath caught in her throat as the waters swallowed his form. Panic surged through her as she screamed, “No! Crisdean!” There was a desperation in her voice that she’d never heard before.

She couldn’t allow that kelpie to take Hamish’s brother.

It would break him and Artair to lose him in such a way, but she didn’t know what to do.

Wendy's cries pierced the air, a desperate plea for respite. And as she cried out, the kelpie stopped. Pausing its descent into the water, it turned its head toward Wendy as if it was curious about her cries and her pleading. She moved to the water’s edge, still pleading with the kelpie.

“Please, please let Crisdean go,” she wailed keeping her distress high in her voice so that Hamish and Artair could mount a rescue mission for their younger brother.

With a sleek and sinuous motion, the kelpie forgot about Crisdean and glided toward her, eyes ablaze with an otherworldly intelligence.

Fear gripped Wendy's heart, and she fumbled for a defense.

In her hand, she clutched the small iron knife, a glimmering sliver of protection against the spectral menace approaching her.

She brandished it, unsure if such a weapon could deter a creature of magic, but she hoped it would see she was merely planning to protect herself, not harm it.

The kelpie watched her and instead of aggression as it came toward her, it halted its advance and fixed its gaze upon her.

“Lass, donnae move,” Hamish said.

Wendy kept her gaze on the kelpie. It was as though it was trying to communicate with her.

She could feel it. It was as though she could feel its thoughts against her skin, prickling along it, raising the hair on her arms. It was curious about her, as though it knew she wasn’t from this time and place and recognized that she meant it no harm.

Wendy decided to try talking, voicing her question to the creature in hopes it might be able to reply in some way she’d understand.

"Why have you been on this rampage? Why are you hunting these humans?

What can be done to satisfy your anger?" she implored; her words seemed to be carried by the night wind that rippled the surface of Loch Finlaggan as she spoke.

They almost felt alive with magic, transformed as she spoke them into a message the kelpie could understand.

The kelpie, a vision of dark majesty, responded in enigmatic silence. Its form, a charcoal black horse of ethereal and powerful beauty, seemed to absorb the moonlight, rendering it an otherworldly attractiveness that both captivated and unnerved its beholder.

Despite the protective barrier of iron she held in her hand, the creature advanced, slowly, each step deliberate and laden with an otherworldly grace.

Wendy, her senses heightened, tensed as the Kelpie closed the distance, but she remained still, not raising the iron in a threatening manner.

Tension hung in the air, the uncertainty of the creature's intentions played up and down Wendy’s spine.

The kelpie turned its head slightly meeting Wendy’s gaze and she saw ancient sorrow in its gaze. It could not speak but what it conveyed was sadness and pain.

“I want to understand, please, let me help fix this for you. For all of us,” Wendy murmured to it.

As the kelpie, its eyes pools of liquid darkness, regarded her, Wendy held her breath, caught in the liminal space between fear and fascination.

She could feel that the kelpie was looking for a way to communicate, a way to answer her questions, she just needed to be patient, but suddenly as there was movement to the right of her, the kelpie caught sight of Hamish and his brothers, their iron swords gleaming malevolently in the moonlight as they ran toward her.

It shattered the delicate rapport that had begun to form between her and creature.

With a wild and mournful neigh, the kelpie recoiled, its ethereal form quivering.

Like shadows dispersing before the dawn, the creature retreated with a grace that defied the mortal realm.

Its swift gallop carried it back into the water, and with a haunting farewell, the kelpie vanished into the depths, leaving only ripples on the moonlit water as evidence of its ephemeral presence.

Wendy felt the connection between them severed, and her opportunity lost. Hamish, his face etched with determination, surveyed the scene with guarded eyes.

Wendy's heart held a wistful ache. The kelpie, with its inscrutable motives, had slipped away, leaving Wendy with unanswered questions and a sense of longing for the connection to reappear. “Damn it,” she muttered.

The moon cast a silvery glow over the ruins as Hamish, his face etched with concern, approached Wendy. "Are you hurt, lass?" he asked, his voice full of worry.

Wendy replied curtly, "Not a scratch, Hamish. But you did interrupt something crucial." Her obvious frustration at him could be heard in her tone.

"Should've never brought a woman along," Crisdean grumbled.

Hamish shot him a stern look, a glint of annoyance in his eyes. "Mind your words, Crisdean," he admonished. "It twas Wendy who provided the distraction that allowed us to rescue you from drowning. Be more grateful for the hand that aided you."

“Aye, sorry, Wendy, just frustrated I was nearly drown and we didnae capture the creature.”

"I was close to learning something, Hamish. The kelpie seemed to respond to me. I could feel its sorrow and pain. Something happened to make him start attacking people. Now, who knows when we'll have another chance like that?"

“I’m sorry, lass, but after what it did to Crisdean, I afeared you were in its trance as you didnae respond when I called out to you.” Hamish dragged a hand through his hair.

Wendy’s brow furrowed. She hadn’t heard him calling out to her. It was almost as if she had been in a bubble of magic at the time, but she didn’t know how to explain it.

"Enough for today. Let's go back to camp, see to dinner, and rest. We'll try again if it appears tomorrow," he declared.

His brothers agreed and the three of them started back toward the ruins.

However, Wendy remained at the edge of the loch, her gaze fixed on the dark waters.

The moonlight played on the ripples, creating an ethereal dance.

As the others faded into the shadows, she stood alone, wrapped in the cloak of contemplation.

In the stillness, Wendy experienced a moment of inner reflection.

A quiet certainty settled within her; a sense that she was right in her approach.

There was something amiss with the kelpie, and the way it had responded to her hinted at a deeper connection between them.

A connection that begged further exploration, a mystery waiting to be unraveled in the moonlit tapestry of Highland magic.