The Ruin
We rode slowly over to the rowan tree. Even from feet away, I felt an energy pulsing outward from it, radiating with a palpable magic. There was a small patch of berries nestled within a few branches from the bottom, and I could have sworn a blue halo of light surrounded them as we drew closer.
“James, can you ride up next to the tree, close enough for me to pick the cluster of berries there?”
He nodded and guided the horse as close to the tree as possible, but I was too small, and with my injured leg, I wasn’t stable enough on the horse’s back to pick them.
“I can’t reach them,”I said, frustration filling my every word.
“I can,”he said, leaning forward and removing his gloves. I quickly thought back to the spell, trying to remember what it had said about howto gather them. I knew I had to keep them from the light once they had been picked, but there was something else. I watched as he leaned forward toward the branch, arm fully outstretched, when it dawned on me.
“Wait, no!”I yelled, stopping him just as he was about to pick the cluster from the branch.“You must not touch them with your hands.”
He stopped, pulled his hand back, and retrieved his gloves. After putting them on, he carefully plucked the cluster of berries, being careful not to drop any as he went. I opened my pack and retrieved a small earthenware jar, into which he carefully placed the berries. A wave of relief washed over me, knowing we had obtained the last ingredient to bring Gran out of her spell-induced sleep. As soon as I secured the berries in my bag, the storm began to show its fury once more, the snow coming down in thick flurries.
“I believe we should seek shelter. The night is swiftly approaching, and considering the storm and your leg, it seems unwise to venture back,”he said, guiding the horse northward.
“Are you certain? We risk freezing in this weather,”I replied, attempting to make my voice heard over the howling wind.
“Malcolm and I have traversed this path countless times on our hunting expeditions. A little farther ahead lies the ancient ruin of Drum-na-Drochit. The remnants of the settlement should afford us suitable shelter for the night.”
As the sun dipped behind the mountains, casting the world into twilight, we stumbled upon the ancient stone ruin. Nestled into the hillside, its weathered exterior covered in moss and dirt told a story of centuries forgotten. A natural overhang tucked into the earth on one end resembled a bear den. The front section lacked a roof and was filled with snow while the back end remained sheltered and untouched. James dismounted, tied the horse to a small tree, and walked over to inspect the ruin.
“You wait here; I’ll be right back,”he instructed, striding toward a cluster of pine trees. I watched as he skillfully cut boughs, gathering theminto a bundle. He arranged them against the opening on the sheltered side of the ruin, creating a makeshift barrier against the wind. Retrieving a hand axe from his bag, he set to work chopping firewood from a dead tree nearby. Each swing of the axe echoed through the quiet landscape as he gathered enough wood to last through the night. With an armful of logs, he disappeared behind the pine boughs, reemerging several times until a sufficient stack lay ready for the fire.
With the sun nearly vanished beyond the horizon, the cold tightened its grip on the land. James assisted me off the horse by slipping his hands around my waist and carrying me into the ancient ruin. I blushed at his touch, the pain in my ankle subsiding once more, only to be replaced by a fervent warmth spreading deep within me.
The inside proved larger than I had imagined, and he gently set me down on a short stone wall. Fetching the blankets, he returned to wrap them snugly around me. To the left, he kindled a fire, utilizing an opening for the smoke to escape. Kneeling beside the fire, he poked at the flames that were devouring the small branches and logs, coaxing more warmth into our shelter.
“How is your ankle?”he inquired, settling down beside me.
“It aches, but I’ll be fine,”I reassured him.
“Did you catch sight of what spooked the horse?”
“No, I turned around, but there was nothing visible,”I replied.
“It’s not the first time a horse has been spooked coming through that forest. Malcolm told me once of a man who was traveling through during a summer storm. He decided to take shelter in the forest, but once he dismounted, his horse became frightened and took off. Stranded, the man waited for the rain to slow before walking toward the loch when he came across a beautiful woman in his path.”James paused for effect, then carried on in a tone one uses for fanciful tales.“Her eyes were as mysterious as the loch itself. She smiled gently at the man and whispered,‘Your horse sensed the ancient magic lingering in these woods, for I am the guardianof secrets beneath the waters. What is it that you wish for the most?’”
“Riches, of course,”the man answered.
“With a mischievous smile, she offered the man a gleaming silver coin, promising it would bring him luck beyond measure. Grateful, the man accepted the gift, only to realize too late that the coin bore a curse. From that day forth, he found himself bound to the shores of Loch Ness, forever seeking treasure. Malcolm believes the woman was a fairy, but Addie says she was a witch,”James finished, standing to add another piece of wood to the fire.
“The poor fellow. What do you suppose it could have been?”
“I’m not entirely sure, but it reminds me of the stories my nan would tell me about kelpies.”
“You don’t believe it was fairy magic or witchery?”I asked, treading carefully into dangerous waters as I sought to understand his opinions on the matter.
“It’s possible, but I tend to lean on the side of more fantastical beasts,”he joked, trying to lighten the mood.
The story of witches and fairies set my nerves on edge, and I glanced nervously at my bag hiding the spellbook within it. What if he found it in my belongings? Would he see me as some sort of evil creature, like the woman in the story? I glanced down at my hands resting quietly in my lap, the very hands that had turned water into ice. I looked back up at James, realizing the vast chasm between us lay not only in our social standings but in these matters as well. As much as I longed to confide in him, to share every part of my story, I feared his reaction. If he were to discover the magic within me, he might condemn me to the gallows. The weight of sadness burned its way up my throat with the realization that my newfound gift felt more like a curse. Trying to regain my composure, I mindlessly leaned on my hurt leg, wincing as I moved. James caught sight of it and walked over, concern etched on his face.
“You’re in pain,”he spoke softly, lifting my leg and placing it uponhis knee as he sat beside me. His touch was gentle, and his hand lingered. With only inches between us, our eyes locked, and we held each other’s gaze. The firelight accentuated his sharp jawline and the rugged shadow of stubble that had grown over the past several days. My heart began beating rapidly in my chest, and I could feel my cheeks turn a bright hue of red as my thoughts began to wander.
“I’ll be fine,”I sputtered, reassuring him once again, but this time he paid no mind.
“It’s alright not to be. I sense your pain,”he said, leaning closer and delicately tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. Unable to break away from his eyes, I leaned forward as he pulled me closer. All my fears and worries melted away at his touch.
