Page 11 of Highland Ghost

Just as Ian turned to leave, he saw a glow from the other side of the room. Then he heard the distant sound of bagpipes. “God’s eyes, nay. No’ now.”

“I-it’s them,” cried Finn.

The ghostly image of their dead grandaunt appeared in the undercroft, flying toward them, screeching. Ian dove to the ground, but Finn just stood there frozen, his eyes transfixed on the apparition that passed right through him. Finn coughed and gagged, still clutching the bottles of whisky.

Ian saw the ghostly image of Bernard appear next. The sound of the dead piper’s bagpipes grew louder and louder. Then the shelves with the wine bottles started shaking. The sound of the music made them teeter back and forth, threatening to fall right on Finn.

“Finn, move, damn it!” Ian shot up and yanked his cousin out of the way just as the shelf with the wine bottles fell over, glass breaking everywhere.

Finn cried out. “God’s eyes, Ian, they are tryin’ to kill me!”

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” said Ian. Pushing Finn in front of him, they bolted up the stairs. Ian turned around to see the apparition of Sylvia coming up the stairs after them, so he slammed the door, hoping she wouldn’t follow.

“My heart is goin’ to fail if this keeps up,” said Finn in a low voice. “I dinna ken how much more of it I can take. Ian, we need to break the bluidy curse before those spirits break our spirit, no’ to mention our heads.”

“I’m workin’ on it.” Ian looked up to see Caitlin running out of the great hall with North and Nash right behind her. The men had their swords drawn.

“We heard a scream and a loud crash,” said Nash, looking one way and then the other.

“Is the castle under attack?” asked North, holding his sword tightly in two hands, ready to fight.

“Nay. Everythin’ is fine,” said Ian with a chuckle, trying to sound nonchalant. “That was just my fool cousin yellin’ because the wine shelf tipped over and the bottles broke,” said Ian. “It’s nothin’ to worry about, I assure ye.”

“I thought I heard bagpipes, too,” said Caitlin, hugging herself. Her eyes were wide with fright if he wasn’t mistaken. “What was that?”

“Bagpipes?” asked Finn. “Nay, it wasna bagpipes. It was . . . what was it, Ian?”

Ian threw Finn an irritated glance and then turned back to the others and faked a chuckle. “Och, ye must have heard Ailbeart and his damned flute again. I swear he never stops playin’ that blasted thing.”

“Nay, it was bagpipes. I’m certain of it,” Caitlin insisted, only making matters worse for Ian.

“Well, mayhap he’s taken up the bagpipes now as well?” Finn finished with a nervous laugh.

“Who wants Mountain Magic?” Ian held up a bottle, hoping to change the subject.

“Ah, now, ye’re talkin’.” Nash and North both sheathed their swords and each of them grabbed a bottle from Ian.

“I need some, too,” said Finn, uncorking a bottle he was holding and, lifting it to his mouth, swigged down the potent whisky.

“Where are yer manners, Finn?” Ian snatched the bottle away and handed it to Caitlin. “I’m sure our guests would like some first.”

“Nay, I wouldna. I never touch whisky,” objected Caitlin, making Ian worried. He needed her to drink and relax, quickly. If anyone was going to see the ghosts tonight, he was sure it would be her, since she was wearing Sylvia’s dress. She was already asking too many questions, and that meant she was aware of the rumors of the spirits in the castle.

“Just a swig willna hurt ye,” he told her. “Here, let me clean off the bottle for ye.” Ian took hold of his plaid and wiped off the mouth of the bottle, handing it back to Caitlin.

“I said, no thank ye.” She turned and headed back to the great hall. So did Nash and North.

“Why did ye clean off the bottle after I drank from it?” Finn glared at Ian. “I dinna have cooties.”

“I was just tryin’ to get Caitlin to relax. She is causin’ me more worry than the damned ghosts.” Ian lifted the bottle to his mouth and took a long draw. Then he let out a satisfied sigh. “That’s better.”

“Give me some.” Finn took the bottle from him, walking into the great hall, drinking from it.

Ian heard bagpipes coming from the undercroft again, and looked back over his shoulder and shook his head. They were going to need a lot more than a few bottles of Mountain Magic if they were going to make it through the night without his guests being scared off.