It turned out that they couldn’t get a flight for another three days. There were no direct flights from London to Kirkwall, the small town that passed for the capital of the Orkney Islands. They had to fly through Aberdeen then get a connecting flight to Kirkwall that only ran twice a week in the winter.
At least finding an Airbnb proved easy enough. From what Della read on the internet, Orkney enjoyed a brief period of tourism at the height of summer. At other times of the year, with long nights, cloudy and cold days, and nearly constant rain, the only people visiting were people who absolutely had to.
That, unfortunately, included them.
At least she got a breather from normal life. She went to lectures, read in the library, and tried to pretend everything was all right.
That worked for all of a day before Sebastian called again. He wanted to meet for lunch at an inexpensive dumpling place on Little Clarendon Street. The cheerful Chinese owners, a husband and wife team, always had a friendly greeting for everyone. Della wondered how people could have such sunny dispositions in a world filled with evil. Ignorance was bliss.
Della couldn’t figure out a way to say no, so she said yes.
It helped that Sebastian was offering to pay. The flights to Orkney weren’t cheap, even at this time of year.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” Sebastian told her after they had sat down with their food. It was the lunch rush, and the buzz of conversation around them ensured their privacy. “I think perhaps there is something more to this than I see.”
Della stared at him in surprise. That was sudden. She thought she had scared him off with that conversation at The Eagle and Child. Apparently he really had been giving it some thought.
Wait. He’s not trying to get back together with me, is he?
No, you idiot. You don’t even want that.
Right?
“There’s a lot more to this than meets the eye,” Della said. “I could give you some books to read, if you like. Not everything in them is true. Much of it is nonsense or pretty far from reality, but there are a lot of people, including some really bad people, who believe every word.”
Aunt Mary had lent her some introductory books to ease her into this new world and had said the very same things to her.
Of course, it turned out that most everything in those books was completely true. A little white lie. Della could forgive the kindly old woman for sparing her sanity, at least in the short term.
“I have enough of a reading list this term,” Sebastian said. “I’m more interested in the kind of people who do these things. That day you caught… that day you saw me at The Knight Errant, you were speaking with Richard Camilo. Do you see him often?”
“He’s become a friend.”
“Maybe, um, maybe I should speak with him. He approached me about it once or twice, and I gave him the cold shoulder. He sounds knowledgeable, though.”
Another surprise. Even more, Sebastian looked guilty as hell for suggesting it. Was he interested in more than just occult knowledge?
Della couldn’t figure out what she thought about that. Jealous? Not quite. Outraged? If he was trying to get his ex-girlfriend to hook him up with a man, she would have every right to be. Suspicious?
Yes, a bit suspicious, although she couldn’t put her finger on why.
You’re getting paranoid, she told herself. This is just a good man, a confused but good man, stumbling toward the truth.
And you’ve been doing plenty of your own stumbling lately, so don’t judge.
“I could give him your number.”
Sebastian made a face. “I wouldn’t want him to misunderstand.”
“I could explain it to him.”
“Perhaps we could all meet together?”
“Sure, sometime. I’m going to be… going away for a bit.”
Sebastian looked startled. “Going away?”
“For a few days. Maybe a week or two.” Or a month. Or a year. Or I might die.
“Where?”
“To Orkney. You know, those islands to the north of Scotland?”
Sebastian nodded. “I know them well. I’ve been a couple of times. An old school chum lives up there. Why in the world are you going up there? Some new excavation? It hardly seems the time of year to do that.”
Della blinked. He had been to Orkney? What were the chances? Richard and Lucas were always talking about synchronicities, strange intersections of events that pointed out hidden connections between people.
“How well do you know the place?” she asked.
Sebastian shrugged. “Well enough. The first time I spent a couple of weeks. The second time I spent a month. It’s quite lovely in summer. Peaceful too. A good place for quiet study. You’d love the archaeology, and there are some incredible landscapes and wildlife. But the winter is a wretched time to go.”
She heard the question in his voice. She ate a dumpling and sipped her orange juice as an excuse not to answer at once.
“I’m going with Richard and… Lucas, another friend. I think I mentioned him.”
“Oh. Is this some sort of paranormal investigation?”
Della studied him. There was no hint of a joke in his tone. In fact, there was a little tremor of fear. She sighed. “Yes. I don’t know how long we’ll be gone.”
“Can you tell me about it?”
“I’m not sure I should.” You might think I’m absolutely crazy.
“You can trust me.” When Della gave him a look, he hastened to continue. “I mean, I’m not going to tell anyone or judge you. I know I’m on the Permanent Register of Despicable Boyfriends, but I worry about you. You’ve seemed terribly stressed ever since meeting these people.”
“True enough,” Della grumbled, spearing another dumpling.
“So tell me.”
Oh God, he’s giving me that puppy dog look with those big brown eyes of his.
Della caved, at least partly. “Oh, all right. It’s another cult. Richard was friends with an occult bookdealer, the best in the country. The man… died. Richard was left with the responsibility of selling off the estate. Now every occultist in the United Kingdom is after the books. They’re worth a fortune, and many of them are one of a kind. There seems to be a group up in Orkney who are behind it all.”
“So why not call the police?”
“Because we have no proof.” Spotting a fire demon does not constitute proof in today’s legal system. Funny how the Middle Ages was actually more advanced in some ways.
“But you know they’re behind it.”
“Yes, from the way they operate. Certain types of magicians perform their rituals in certain ways. Some focus on different schools of magic while others use rituals particular to a specific region. The ones we’re seeking are performing rituals only known in the Orkney Islands. So we know it’s them. We need to go to Orkney to gather evidence against them.”
Sebastian snapped his fingers. “Bjorn might be of help.”
“Who’s Bjorn?”
“The friend I mentioned. He’s a graduate student at the Institute for Northern Studies there. He studies the folklore of the Orkney and Shetland Islands.”
Della leaned back, stunned. “He sounds perfect.”
“He’s perfect in many ways. I think you’d like him.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“He’s a keen student, just like you, and while he specializes in folklore, he has an interest in archaeology. Quite the looker as well. And straight. That’s certainly an advantage.”
Della’s brow furrowed. “Are you trying to set me up with your friend?”
Sebastian spread out his hands and gave that ironic smile she used to like so much.
“I will never be done apologizing to you. Perhaps this will go a little way toward me being forgiven.”
“I’m not looking to hook up at the moment, thank you very much. But give me his number. He could be useful.”
“I can introduce you in person.”
“He’s here in Oxford?”
“No. I mean I want to come up with you.”
“What?”
“You’re going into danger. I can’t let you face it alone.”
“I won’t be facing it alone. I’ll have Richard and Lucas there.”
“I mean I can’t let you face it without someone rational by your side.”
“They’re rational!” Sort of.
Sebastian made a calming gesture. “Maybe so. They sound like they’re too far into this to see clearly, though. At least that’s the impression Richard gives.”
“You barely know him.”
“Please let me do this, Della. I could never forgive myself if I sat by and you got hurt. If these Orcadian chaps are anything like Dr. Olding’s friends, you are going into serious danger.”
“What about your coursework?”
“What about yours? This sounds more important. I mean, your safety. I’ll reserve judgment on wizards and fairies and leprechauns. I can be of help. I know the area and I’m good friends with Bjorn. Think about it.” Sebastian checked his watch. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a lecture to attend. If I’m going to be skipping a week’s worth of them, I’d best go to all the ones I can. Please think about this.”
“I will.”
As soon as Sebastian left, Della called Richard and told him all about the conversation.
“This is perfect! He must come. Can’t you see the connections building up one on top of the other? He called you just at the right time. He wants to speak with me. He even has a contact in the remote part of Scotland we need to go to!”
“Where will he stay?” Della sure didn’t want to share a room with him.
“Oh, another synchronicity. I just rented an Airbnb in downtown Kirkwall, near the Folklore Society, and it just so happens to have five bedrooms. I got it dead cheap because of the time of year. The lady I spoke with only had a three bedroom and a five bedroom, and since I didn’t want you and Lucas to keep me up all night with your loud lovemaking, I got the five bedroom.”
“Wait. Why wouldn’t the three-bedroom place have been enough for us?”
“Because Cassandra is coming.”
Della groaned. Richard did not help matters by cackling.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Della said.
“Cassandra is an accomplished mage, and she specializes in water magic. That might be helpful on an island.”
“I meant bringing Sebastian with us.”
“He has the Talent, darling. I’d bet a thousand pounds on it. And what are the chances that, when the whole Dr. Olding affair blew up, Lucas and I would find not one but two people with an affinity for magic?”
“He doesn’t know what he’s getting into, and once he’s in it, he won’t want to be there, and he won’t be able to get out,” Della said, speaking from bitter experience.
“He already volunteered,” Richard said softly. “He’s an adult, and he can make his own decisions. His experience with Old Mother Shipton and Wayland the Smith was enough to give him a hint of what he’s up against. And this is also part of his awakening to his real self. Magical ability cannot stay dormant forever, and it often comes out at the same time an individual makes another major life change.”
Della thought about how her own magical ability began to manifest shortly after moving to a new country and getting serious with her career as an archaeologist.
“Is that what happened with you?” she asked.
“You mean did I leap out of the closet, sequins and tiaras flashing, at the same time I started shooting spells left and right? As a matter of fact, I did. It was a break from my old self, the one society tried to constrain me to. That’s what your dear little boy is doing now. He’s halfway there.”
“I guess I can tell him he can come,” Della grumbled.
“Your utter lack of enthusiasm fairly drips from every word.”
“I have a bad feeling about this.”
“He stomped on your heart in a most public and humiliating way. You have every right to steer clear of the chap. But he needs us. More importantly, I have a feeling we need him. Don’t let your emotions cloud your judgment. We’re up against some pretty dark forces, my friend.”
Della smiled, her heart warming. She had never had very many friends, and those simple words always meant so much to her. Silly that she would be in such a fragile emotional state at her age. She should have gotten over that in her angsty teens. Sadly, she had grown into her angsty twenties with all her insecurities intact.
Come on, she told herself. You’ve faced cults, ghosts, and fire demons. You’ve even been in a swordfight. When are you going to start feeling good about yourself?
If it were only that simple.
Perhaps confidence comes from force of habit.
“All right, I’ll invite my cheating ex-boyfriend along with us,” Della said.
“Good girl.”
Sebastian did not prove popular with the rest of the group. When they met at the airport for their flight to Aberdeen, Cassandra immediately tried to hit on him. Sebastian showed no interest and didn’t tell her why. Shocked at being ignored by a man she assumed to be straight, she fell into a sulk for the rest of the day. That was fine by Della.
Lucas also didn’t take a shine to him. Della didn’t see any real point of tension—the two simply did not exchange anything more than the common courtesies. But to do that for the length of an all-day trip spoke volumes.
On the other hand, Sebastian and Richard talked almost incessantly. They sat side by side on the flight. At first Sebastian tried to draw Richard out on occultism, but the older man told him he’d rather not speak of it in public, and Sebastian dropped the matter. Instead, Richard asked him to tell them about Orkney.
“Fascinating place,” Sebastian said. “A bit small, and the nightlife is all but nonexistent, but if you like country walks, nature, and archaeology, you’ll find it fascinating.”
“This isn’t exactly a sightseeing trip.”
“No. I’d like to learn more about what sort of trip this is exactly.”
“Later. Tell us more about Orkney.”
“Hmm, where shall I start? It’s easy enough to hire a car, so that won’t be a problem. And we’ll need one. The bus system is quite limited, although the ferries are good. There are also flights from island to island. With the winter winds coming along, I’d rather do the ferries, though.”
“I heard on some quiz show they have the shortest flight in the world,” Richard said.
“Yes, they’re quite proud of it. It’s between Westray and Papa Westray. There’s less than three kilometers between them, and the flight only takes a minute. Literally a minute. The chap who used to fly it has the record for the most takeoffs and landings of any commercial pilot.”
“You’re quite the font of information,” Richard said.
“Sebastian wins all the pub quizzes,” Della said.
“I can imagine. Sadly, we probably won’t be going on that flight. I think we’ll mostly be on the Mainland,” Richard said.
“Just Mainland,” Sebastian said. “That refers to the biggest island. If you say ‘the mainland,’ they’ll think you’re referring to Scotland proper.”
Lucas groaned, rolled his eyes, and returned to the book he was reading.
Sebastian didn’t seem to notice, or he chose not to notice. “There are about seventy islands in total.”
“Aha!” Richard said, elbowing him. “Something you don’t know. How can you win pub quizzes if you don’t know the precise number of islands in an obscure northern archipelago?”
“Aha to you,” Sebastian said, elbowing him back. “I say ‘about’ because it depends on your definition of an island. Some are skerries.”
“What’s a skerry?” Della asked.
“A rock sticking out of the sea.”
“Aren’t all islands just rocks sticking out of the sea?”
“Yes, they are, and hence the problem. So what’s an island and what’s a skerry? Ask three Orcadians in a pub that question and you’ll get five answers. Believe me, I tried it once. Quite amusing. The traditional definition is that a skerry is unfit for human habitation, but in that case one would have to call most council estates skerries. Besides, there’s a skerry in Kirkwall harbor that was used as a prison in Viking times. They’d leave men stranded on there, and passing ships would toss them food. So it was a skerry but had a permanent, if small, population.”
“The Vikings were such charmers,” Richard said. “So, tell me about this Bjorn fellow. He sounds like a Viking.”
“More of a mild-mannered Danish graduate student. He’s on loan from the University of Aarhus to work on his dissertation on the folklore of the northern islands. He’s been all over the North Atlantic—Orkney, the Shetland Islands, even the Faroes. You’d like him. He specializes in the folklore related to ancient sites.”
Richard caught Della’s eye. The occultist was always talking about synchronicities. This was a big one.
“Yes,” Richard murmured. “I think I’d like to speak with him about that.”
They had a layover in Aberdeen airport, where they ate an overpriced and unsatisfying lunch then boarded a small propeller-driven plane for the final leg of their journey. The plane didn’t look like it could hold more than fifty people, and it was only about half-full. Della had never been on a plane so small. Rain drummed on the wings as they taxied down the runway.
As luck would have it, she got stuck next to Cassandra, who was clutching the armrest in a white-knuckle grip and staring straight ahead.
Della had the window seat and glanced out. The airport had faded into an indistinct smudge. The runway was awash with rain.
The motor revved as they picked up speed. A strong wind buffeted the plane, shaking it back and forth as it headed for takeoff.
Cassandra turned pale and gripped the armrest tighter.
“You all right?” Della asked.
“I hate flying in rough weather,” Cassandra said through clenched teeth. “It’s beastly out.”
“We’ll be all right,” Della said, as much to reassure herself as her travel companion. She wasn’t a nervous flier, but with weather like this, she hardly felt relaxed either.
The plane rose into the air, bucked, lost altitude—eliciting a hiss from Cassandra— then steadied out and began to climb.
The runway, the airport, and the earth itself disappeared into a gray soup. The plane lurched to the side as it got slammed by a crosswind and lost a bit of altitude then continued to rise. A moment later, it was hit by a series of quick jerks as if it was a car with bad shock absorbers going over a series of potholes.
Cassandra was beginning to turn green, actually green. Della watched her with fascination. She had always thought that was a figure of speech.
“How are you doing?” Della asked.
“Urg.”
That wasn’t exactly the most eloquent statement she had ever heard pass Cassandra’s lips, but Della felt sure it neatly summarized the mage’s feelings at the moment.
The airplane dropped again, sending their stomachs to the ceiling, before leveling out.
“Unnngh.”
Cassandra doubled over, clutching at her mouth.
Della grabbed an air-sickness bag, opened it, and shoved it into the woman’s hands.
Just in time. Cassandra retched, coughed, then spewed into the bag.
Serves you right for flirting with my ex-boyfriend, Della thought.
A second later, the cabin filled with the terrible stench of Cassandra’s half-digested airport lunch.
Now it was Della’s turn to feel sick. She held her hand over her nose, trying and failing to keep out the smell. She searched for her air-sickness bag in the seat pocket in front of her, only to remember that she had given it to Cassandra. The woman was still hunched over, losing the last bits of her lunch, so Della couldn’t reach into Cassandra’s seat pocket and get her bag.
The plane bucked and danced, tossed about by the wind and hammered by the driving rain. There was nothing to see out the window. Della hoped they had gained some altitude. Weren’t there tall mountains in northern Scotland? What if they slammed into one? A little plane like this still had radar, right?
A stewardess came along the aisle, walking with a bowlegged gait and holding onto the seats to either side. She stopped and leaned over Cassandra.
“Are you all right, ma’am?” she asked in a matronly Scottish accent.
Blurp. Another bit of lunch dropped into the bag.
To her credit, the stewardess didn’t bat an eyelid.
“I’ll just take this,” she said, gingerly relieving Cassandra of her now-full air-sickness bag. Cassandra immediately grabbed the spare one and opened it.
“Excuse me,” Della said. “I could use—”
But the stewardess was already gone.
If I have to throw up, I’ll throw up on Cassandra. She deserves it.
For another hour, the plane bucked and dove. Cassandra filled up another bag, the stench nauseating Della. Somehow, she managed not to spoil Cassandra’s dress. That was a disappointment. It would have made Della feel better.
Gradually the weather eased, and the plane got onto a steady course. The pilot came on the intercom and in an annoyingly cheery voice welcomed them to Scottish weather and announced it was clearing up ahead.
Della peered through the window. It looked the same uniform dark gray that it had been for the entire trip. At least the air circulation system had taken away the worst of the smell. Della’s stomach stopped threatening to avenge itself on Cassandra.
The plane started to descend. She cast a nervous glance at her travel companion. She looked drawn, but better.
The clouds began to brighten, suddenly opening up to a breathtaking view.
The plane had descended lower than Della had suspected, scudding over a brilliant blue sea crested with the white foam of choppy waves. Behind them, a rough landmass and sheer cliffs dwindled in the distance. The last of the Scottish mainland.
Up ahead came the first of the islands—a pair of small rocks jutting out of the sea, waves crashing over them.
Skerries, Della corrected herself with a smile. With Sebastian along, I have to be precise about everything.
Next came a proper island, a cliff-bound oval of green that didn’t look more than a couple of kilometers long. There wasn’t a single tree on it, but remarkably, she spotted a pair of cottages and a scattering of white dots she presumed to be a flock of sheep.
The plane descended farther, passing over the tiny island and coming to some more skerries, some jutting like stone fingers out of the sea, others barely humping above the surface and looking like the backs of motionless whales. The sunlight was out now, sparking off the blue water. They approached another island, a larger one this time, where waves crashed and foamed against a jagged shoreline of stones carved into weird shapes by the wind and surf.
This island took longer to fly over, its undulating green fields spreading out like a carpet below them. Still they descended, and a few little clusters of cottages stood out clearly beneath them. Della spotted cultivated fields and large flocks of sheep and cows.
Then they were past that island and once again over the glittering water, a blue sheen flecked with white and studded with skerries for a brief stretch before they came over another island. Green fields stretched as far as the little window allowed her to see.
“This is Mainland,” Sebastian said from the other aisle. “We’re almost there.”
The ground drew closer, a lush field of green. In the distance, Della spotted a town, the first she had seen since takeoff. Then the tarmac rushed up at them, and they touched down. Della felt sorry the wonderful sights were over.
Within a minute, the rain had started up again. A black wall of clouds swept over the airport and dropped a torrent of rain on the plane as it taxied to the terminal.
“I hope it’s not like this the entire time,” Cassandra said. She looked relieved to be back on the ground.
“I checked the weather for this week,” Richard said.
Cassandra turned to him. “And?”
“You don’t want to know.”
They took a pair of taxis from the airport to Kirkwall, shooting along a narrow highway buffeted with wind. Della shared a taxi with Richard and Sebastian. Cassandra and Lucas took the other, and Della wondered if the woman, having failed with Sebastian, was back to her old tricks.
The beautiful view from the plane had been all too brief. Now, as the rain flowed down the window in a continuous sheet, she could only see a vague outline of fields and the occasional building. Whenever a vehicle passed in the opposite direction, a wave of water thudded against the glass.
Sebastian pulled out his phone. “I told Bjorn we were coming. I’ll just ring him up and see if he can meet us.”
As he got on the phone and made small talk with his friend, Richard turned to Della.
“How are you feeling?”
“Relieved not to be sitting next to a puking society girl.”
“That stank badly enough on our side of the aisle. I can’t imagine what it was like for you.” He lowered his voice. “But I meant, are you feeling anything unusual?”
“I’m not as sensitive as you think I am.”
“Incorrect. You’re more sensitive than you think you are.”
Della sighed. On the last case, they had made her pass a hand over a map, looking for disrupted points on the ley lines. Oddly, that had actually worked. Right now, though, she didn’t feel a thing.
“You’re distracted by the flight,” Richard said, then made a little nod to Sebastian, who chattered away, oblivious. “And by some of the company you’re keeping.”
“I really don’t need all this drama,” Della whispered.
“Sor-ry,” Richard said in a singsong voice. “How about you clear your mind and focus for a bit?”
Della did as he asked and got sucked into another world almost immediately.