LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND
The Past - Greystone Castle
Early morning light slivered around the edges of the tapestry hanging askew over the window into the room. The heavy material ruffled lightly in the cool morning breeze.
Sitting up, Paige pushed her hair from her face and looked down at Gavin. His eyes were shut but his lips were parted slightly in sleep.
She watched the rise and fall of his chest with each breath he took to reassure herself he was indeed breathing.
“Good morning, my love,” she said softly, and lightly stroked her fingers over his brow to smooth the crease that had gathered there.
“I wish you would wake up.”
Still, there was no response.
Not that she thought there would be…but she still hoped that one day she would wake up to find him looking at her, instead of the other way around.
Rousing herself, she stretched and stifled a yawn.
The tapestry made a snapping sound in the breeze, bringing with it a bout of nostalgia from home when she was younger. The sound reminded her of when her Gran’s would hang sheets out to dry on the line in the morning.
Letting out a sigh, she pulled the furs back and climbed from bed. There were chores that needed to be done here as well. There was fresh water that needed to be fetched, more wood to collect; also she would eventually need to set the kitchen to rights so she could start making some kind of food when the men returned.
Unfortunately, she had no idea how long they had been gone at this point. Each day seemed to blur into the next. It may have been a week or more and if not for Elvis she would have felt …
“Oh No!” Paige suddenly remembered Elvis and the creepy noises from the previous night and the mysterious appearance of that retched dagger. She knew that she had put in the trunk. So how did it end up on the floor?
Now, in the light of the day, she knew she was not imagining it. Just to make sure, she went to check behind the stone. The hideous dagger was still there.
Somewhat relieved by this, she put the stone back in place and as another precaution, she grabbed a stick from the pile of wood to use if she had need of a weapon. Granted, the dagger probably would better serve as a weapon than the stick, but the dagger genuinely freaked her out. It seemed evil somehow and was not something she wanted near her, at least not now.
Walking to the door, Paige looked over her shoulder back to the bed. “I’ll be right back,” she told Gavin’s still form.
Trying to be as quiet as possible, she lifted the bolt. The door made a waning groan as she eased it open and looked out into the hall.
Elvis wasn’t on the floor outside the door like he normally would be and her heart deflated. As she stepped out into the hall, her worry for the dog increased. If something happened to him, she would never forgive herself.
“He’s probably just sleeping.” Even as she reassured herself, she couldn’t help the niggling little voice in her mind telling her that something was not right.
Holding tightly to the stick, she descended the stairs to the great hall. The room did not have windows, so it was pretty dim even during the day. That was why kept the door open most days and to air the place out.
Standing at the bottom of the stairs, she waited for her eyes to adjust to the dimness.
“Elvis,” she called and added a two-fingered whistle, which usually brought the dog bounding from wherever he was. However, this time, Elvis didn’t come and the worry she had been feeling increased even more.
“Oh, Elvis…” she cried out, about to break down into a fit of tears.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, came the familiar sound of nails biting into stone as they rushed forward from down the hall. “Elvis!” She ran forward, hoping she wasn’t hearing things.
The dog skidded to a halt out in the middle of the room. His coat wet, and his teeth barred.
Relief and fear simultaneously washed over her.
“Elvis,” she said his name with more conviction.
The dog growled and got into a defensive stance.
Paige took a reflexive step back.
“Hey—HEY, buddy,” she said calmly, trying to keep the quivering edge from her voice.
Elvis whimpered suddenly and dropped to the ground.
He lay there twitching.
Her heart lurched in her chest. “Oh, Elvis…” she cried. “What happened to you?”
She took a step forward and then another.
Elvis lurched haphazardly to his feet and began growling once more. This time he wasn’t looking at her though, he was looking down the hall at something that she couldn’t see from my vantage point.
“Who’s there?” she called out harshly. “I have a weapon.”
Elvis swung his head around, barring his teeth once more.
Paige didn’t know whether to try to approach him or run back up the stairs. It almost seemed as if the dog was warning her to stay away, but from what, or who?
Fighting back another wave of dread, she took another step forward, trying to get a better position to see down the hall. As soon as she moved, a sharp noise split the air and continued getting louder. It sounded like a heavy piece of metal being dragged against stone. “What the…?”
The dog let out an ungodly sounding howl in agony or anger, she couldn’t tell which.
Stupidly, she leaned forward to look around the corner.
There was a person covered from head to toe in a long flowing cloak that was headed her way. That in itself wouldn’t have been that bad, but the person was dragging an axe. Sparks of orange and red flew out from the sides as the metal scraped against the stone.
Fear ripped through her body.
Paige grabbed hold of her skirts and ran back to the stairs.
“Elvis, come on,” she yelled out over her shoulder, taking the steps two at a time as she raced back towards the modicum safety of the room she shared with Gavin.