We devour our meals quickly, but the sun is already sinking low on the horizon.
“Should we wait until the morning to go?” I ask.
“Nae, let’s go by the cairn before we head to my place. There should be lights at the site, and we can use the torch I keep in the truck,” he replies.
But I’m not too sure how comfortable it makes me to explore an ancient burial site in the dark. That’s a bit creepy.But the possibility of finally getting answers on this mysterious family relic looms over my head and tips the scales in that direction.
Briefly, I close my eyes to try some mindfulness, wrestling with the anxiety and a feeling I can’t quite grasp but is steadily building. Guilt floods me, and I realize just how much I miss Gran. I do my best to recognize the emotion and imagine setting it down, figuratively, in my mind. I breathe in, hold it, and exhale on a four-count to try to ease the feeling.
Lachlan reaches over and caresses my arm. “Ye alright, Key?”
The use of my nickname releases some of my tension, and a smile breaks my concentration. “I’m just a bit nervous for some reason.”
“Ach, no need to be nervous. If we dinna find answers, we keep looking, okay?” he replies, misreading my worries.
I don’t correct him. “Sounds good, Lach.”
The sun has set, darkness seeping over the land as Lachlan pulls over in front of a nondescript cattle gate. The burial mound is a shadow barely visible past the wire fences in the middle of a pasture.
“Um, don’t we need to go to the tourist center and get tickets?” I ask, pointing to the visitor’s center signs up the road from us.
Lachlan unbuckles and opens his door. He rolls his eyes. “That’s such a tourist thing to say, Key, just get out. Ye can hop a fence, right?”
My eyes widen, and my jaw drops in shock as I sputter, “This is an archeological site!” I inhale sharply. “This is breaking so many laws! There are literally Viking runes carved in there!”
Lachlan merely laughs as he shuts the door and walks up to the gate, smoothly hopping over it and offering me a hand over the gate.
Grumbling, I exit the truck, but my ears begin that familiar ringing. It’s the same sound as before when I first spied thenecklace. The memory spurs me on, and I clamber, not nearly as gracefully, over the fence and grasp Lach’s hand.
The ground squelches underneath our feet; luckily, the rain has finally stopped, and I’m glad I went with my boots this morning. We make our way down the little path next to the fence that intersects the pasture. An eerie sensation washes over me, and the hair on my arms is beginning to rise, not just from the chill. I pause to glance around, and Lachlan comes to a stop right in front of me.
“Ye alright?” I can feel his eyes on me as he tries to read my expression in the dark.
“It’s kind of creepy out here. Like we’re being watched,” I reply. Thankfully, the ringing is still a dull hum. Goosebumps begin spreading along my arms.
Lachlan turns in a semi-circle in front of me. “It’s just a cow pasture, ach, I forgot the torch. Wait right here.”
He rushes past me and back the way we came before I can tell him that I’d rather go with him. The gravelly caw of a raven causes me to shriek, and I whirl around to look for the beast.
The light is completely gone, and darkness swallows the path.
Yeah, this is not a good idea.
“Lachlan!” I call out, fear drenching me, but there’s no response.
He couldn’t have gone too far already, but I can’t see or hear him at all. I’m so close to the cairn and figure there’s bound to be a light near the entrance. I stumble forward along the path to the mound and away from the sound of the raven. A twig snaps behind me, blocking my path back to the truck, and I freeze.
“Lach, if you’re playing games, it’s so not funny!”
A flap of wings by my head startles me, but there’s a loud thud on the ground, like footsteps, that frightens me into action. Throwing caution to the wind, I sprint to the mound.
My heart pounds with each strike of my feet on the grass.The ringing becomes more shrill. I’m so tense with fear that it’s difficult to stay upright, and I stumble along the uneven path.
A misstep has me careening into the fence, and the wire rips through my sweater.
It stings, sharpening my terror, but I keep moving forward.
At best, it could just be a cow that’s about to run me over. At worst, my mind conjures up murderous men with axes or demons. My pace increases with each frightful image.
