Page 24 of The Last Kelpie

“That they are the monsters for doing this to you. You protected them for centuries, and they do this? Not just forget you, but demonize you. That is evil, Áedán. Not you.”

His expression softened. “I refuse to believe they're evil. They forgot, aye, but that happens. As for the lies, well, people like to be scared now that there's little for them to fear. Someone must have found my myth and thought to make it more exciting. Then other people read it and enjoyed it. It went on, with more changes, until the truth was lost. That has happened to humans many times before, and not just with myths. Your people have lost great knowledge in just that way.”

“You're being extraordinarily kind about what's happened to you.” I knew if it were me in Áedán's position, I'd be furious.

“I care aboot people, Ethan. I've seen such love, compassion, and bravery in humans. I cannae believe that humans have changed so much.”

“We haven't. Some of us are kind and honorable, all the things you admired. But others aren't. Some are even evil, like the man who would have hurt Moira's mother.”

“Aye, you're right. And maybe it was evil that twisted my myth. But I'd rather think it was carelessness or ignorance. People can be dafty, but that dinnae make them evil.”

My chest warmed as I listened to him. I'd gone to Scotland expecting to find a recluse or a loner. Maybe even a madman. Instead, I found a magical man who had lost everyone he loved but still found the room in his heart to be kind to those who had wronged him. He wasn't a creature without humanity. Áedán was more human than I, born of our imagination and bestowed with humankind's best qualities.

Moira was right. He was an angel of the water. Except this angel was in jeopardy of fading. It was time for humanity to save its guardian.

Chapter Ten

The next morning, I walked back to Áedán's cottage with a question at the forefront of my mind. Over the bridge and through the woods I went, until I stepped out of the trees into the field. The overcast sky turned the loch into hammered pewter. My heart sped up as I approached the stone building, and I noted smoke rising from the chimney in a thin, steady line. He was home.

Áedán opened the door before I could knock. He wore a dark sweater that looked handmade, with sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His hair was damp. “You're early.”

“I thought I might take you to breakfast in town.”

“Breakfast?”

“Yes, something more than cheese and bread.”

“Will they have tea?”

“Yes.”

He looked at me for a long moment. Then he sighed, pushed off the doorframe, and reached for a coat hanging by the door. “Fine, but if it's too loud, I'm leaving.”

The walk to the Village Rest took twenty minutes. Right on Pier Road, it was a restaurant in a quaint stone building, the gray rock walls spotted with rusty red stone. It stood behind an old, stacked rock wall half-covered in thick vines. Áedán walked in beside me with his hands in his pockets, his shoulders slightly hunched, as if he were trying to make himself smaller. Less noticeable.

Inside, the restaurant had a different aesthetic. It was modern but also homey. Tables dotted the main room, with folding screens standing between them for privacy. I led Áedán to the counter where glass displays held cakes. His eyes went wide as he stared at the sweets. I took two plastic-coated menus and handed him one.

I ordered a full Scottish breakfast while Áedán went for the vegetarian version. Then he pointed at one of the cakes. I chuckled and ordered him a slice. We also got drinks—a mocha for me and a pot of tea for him. Then we took a booth and waited for our food. The drinks came first, quickly followed by Áedán's cake.

“You don't eat meat?” I sipped my coffee and watched him inspect his tea.

He looked up. “Occasionally. I prefer fish to meat, though.”

“Interesting.” I wondered if it had anything to do with his horse form.

After pouring his tea, Áedán stared at his cake for a few moments before taking a bite. His eyes closed as he chewed. Then they popped open, and he took another bite.

“You see? There are some good things in the village.”

He nodded and chewed. “I will remember this place.”

I had a sudden image of him in London. I'd take him to Harrods and show him all the beautiful food. Better yet, I'd take him at Christmas. I imagined his expression as he looked at all the displays. Then I mentally shook myself. He wasn't my boyfriend. He was a myth who I had to save from fading.

“Ah, here you are now.” A woman set our plates down before us. “You liked that cake, did ya?”

“Aye.” Áedán smiled at her. “That went down a treat.”

“Very good, I'm chuffed you enjoyed it.” She left us to eat.