gargoyle legends. Most were guardians of man. Some were evil,
while others remained neutral. But all suffered the same fate at sunrise. No
matter where they were or what they were doing, they turned to stone.
Would that be Struan’s fate? Would he return to stone every
day at sunrise?
Caledonia paced the dock. When had she accepted this curse
as truth? She snorted. She knew when. Between the appearance of Mary, her
convincing story and Momma’s beliefs that anything unexplainable was possible,
she’d been suckered into this mystical realm of distorted magic. She stared out
over the loch.
In the distance she saw two fishing boats bobbing on the
water. She knew her parents were in one of those boats, spending the late
afternoon into the early evening, spinning tales and drowning bait with some of
their lifelong pals. Poppa always said Momma was a true one of a kind when he
met her. On their first date, they went fishing and still routinely fished the
loch together.
Caledonia knew her mother planned this sudden fishing
afternoon to get Poppa out of the way. In case the curse were true, Aileen had
whispered to her right before they left. She also knew the tradition of their
fishing jaunts ended by docking at the Thistle Pub for drinks and dinner. Those
two wouldn’t be back until long after the sun went down.
A half-smile twisted her lips as she shook her head and
released a soft sigh. It was good to be home, doing what she enjoyed with the
people she loved. She turned on her heel and couldn’t help but level her gaze
on the statue. From where she stood, it looked like a heap of stone, its
features undistinguishable in the growing shadows of the fading day.
Earlier, after the final cleaning of the statue, the men
took the afternoon off and left her alone. Poppa and the O’Reillys hadn’t
understood her desire to wait a day or two before contacting the press. But
they’d respected her wishes. Hell, she didn’t even understand why she held off.
If she were Kip…
She hugged herself tight against that thought, knowing she
wasn’t like Kip. He’d have plastered his find on the antiquities websites,
notified an auction house and scoured the world for the highest bidder. Finding
relics was a joy to be shared as a part of history, not hidden in some rich
man’s collection. Caledonia shivered though there was no wind.
“It is almost time.” Mary’s whisper came across her right
shoulder and made her jump. She should have known the spirit was near when she
felt a chill and shivered. But she’d been preoccupied. She shook Kip from her
thoughts and faced Mary.
Through the spirit’s transparency, she saw the sun sink low
on the horizon. She was an eerily beautiful picture, a vision from the past in
all her elegance highlighted by the vibrant colors of the fading sun. Caledonia
simply stared. Soon the last rays of light would disappear and they would learn
if she’d spoken the anti-curse correctly. If such an event should
happen. Caledonia released a heavy breath and turned to walk to the shed.
“No reason for anyone to see this,” Caledonia said as she
grabbed one of the large doors to close it. If anything actually happened. Doubt taunted her system and chilled the blood in her veins. What if she’d
wasted a day because of some spirit with a misguided conception of love?
After she closed the other door, Caledonia switched on the
lights just as the last stream of sunlight disappeared. Seconds passed and
nothing happened.
“Say it again,” Mary whispered. Caledonia couldn’t believe
she was doing this. Nothing happened. It was just a statue, not a cursed man.
Seeing the anxious look in Mary’s eyes, Caledonia cleared her throat and tried
again just to appease a ghost.
“ Ceum saor de clach. Be ye biast air duine. Tis gaol dara
slighe. Ge ye be mèinne. Dh’oidche mur dh’là. ”
The last word barely left her lips when the floor shook,
causing her to step backward. A low rumble reverberated from the
while others remained neutral. But all suffered the same fate at sunrise. No
matter where they were or what they were doing, they turned to stone.
Would that be Struan’s fate? Would he return to stone every
day at sunrise?
Caledonia paced the dock. When had she accepted this curse
as truth? She snorted. She knew when. Between the appearance of Mary, her
convincing story and Momma’s beliefs that anything unexplainable was possible,
she’d been suckered into this mystical realm of distorted magic. She stared out
over the loch.
In the distance she saw two fishing boats bobbing on the
water. She knew her parents were in one of those boats, spending the late
afternoon into the early evening, spinning tales and drowning bait with some of
their lifelong pals. Poppa always said Momma was a true one of a kind when he
met her. On their first date, they went fishing and still routinely fished the
loch together.
Caledonia knew her mother planned this sudden fishing
afternoon to get Poppa out of the way. In case the curse were true, Aileen had
whispered to her right before they left. She also knew the tradition of their
fishing jaunts ended by docking at the Thistle Pub for drinks and dinner. Those
two wouldn’t be back until long after the sun went down.
A half-smile twisted her lips as she shook her head and
released a soft sigh. It was good to be home, doing what she enjoyed with the
people she loved. She turned on her heel and couldn’t help but level her gaze
on the statue. From where she stood, it looked like a heap of stone, its
features undistinguishable in the growing shadows of the fading day.
Earlier, after the final cleaning of the statue, the men
took the afternoon off and left her alone. Poppa and the O’Reillys hadn’t
understood her desire to wait a day or two before contacting the press. But
they’d respected her wishes. Hell, she didn’t even understand why she held off.
If she were Kip…
She hugged herself tight against that thought, knowing she
wasn’t like Kip. He’d have plastered his find on the antiquities websites,
notified an auction house and scoured the world for the highest bidder. Finding
relics was a joy to be shared as a part of history, not hidden in some rich
man’s collection. Caledonia shivered though there was no wind.
“It is almost time.” Mary’s whisper came across her right
shoulder and made her jump. She should have known the spirit was near when she
felt a chill and shivered. But she’d been preoccupied. She shook Kip from her
thoughts and faced Mary.
Through the spirit’s transparency, she saw the sun sink low
on the horizon. She was an eerily beautiful picture, a vision from the past in
all her elegance highlighted by the vibrant colors of the fading sun. Caledonia
simply stared. Soon the last rays of light would disappear and they would learn
if she’d spoken the anti-curse correctly. If such an event should
happen. Caledonia released a heavy breath and turned to walk to the shed.
“No reason for anyone to see this,” Caledonia said as she
grabbed one of the large doors to close it. If anything actually happened. Doubt taunted her system and chilled the blood in her veins. What if she’d
wasted a day because of some spirit with a misguided conception of love?
After she closed the other door, Caledonia switched on the
lights just as the last stream of sunlight disappeared. Seconds passed and
nothing happened.
“Say it again,” Mary whispered. Caledonia couldn’t believe
she was doing this. Nothing happened. It was just a statue, not a cursed man.
Seeing the anxious look in Mary’s eyes, Caledonia cleared her throat and tried
again just to appease a ghost.
“ Ceum saor de clach. Be ye biast air duine. Tis gaol dara
slighe. Ge ye be mèinne. Dh’oidche mur dh’là. ”
The last word barely left her lips when the floor shook,
causing her to step backward. A low rumble reverberated from the
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