“Perfect, because we’re going to slide down it rather quickly, like skiing. All you have to do is stay upright.” He reached out his hand. “Are ya ready?”
I probably grabbed his hand a little too eagerly, and as I did, a delicious shock reverberated through my entire body. “R-r-ready,” I answered in my best Scottish accent, slightly rolling my r. He smiled at my pathetic effort.
“The trick is to just keep going,” Gavin said, “and stay a little ahead of the slide.”
The first step was beyond scary, because the ground seemed to slip away from under my shoe, but I figured out that as long as I picked up my feet every once in a while to control my balance, and stopped whenever I could, it was actually not too bad. And once I made it halfway down without wiping out, it got fun. The thrill seemed to echo down from the pit of my stomach in a tingly, happy way.
Gavin began showing off, scree-ing backward, and doing little circles around me. “Come on,” he laughed. “Give it a good go. Show me what you’ve got.”
He didn’t know I’d grown up ice skating on the knobby frozen ponds near my house. If I wanted to, I could deliver a wicked hockey stop. And I wanted to.
I waited until he was in front of me, then dug in for an abrupt, angled skid that sent a shower of rocks spraying over him. He opened his mouth in surprise, and when the deluge stopped, he grinned and spat a pebble out in a tiny arc. I laughed so hard, I thought my sides might split. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d actually laughed like that.
“Will ya look at that?” he marveled. “She’s happy. Deep down, honest-to-goodness happy to her bones.”
I continued to laugh, grateful for the joy that seemed to spread to every part of my body. Joy that wasn’t tainted with even the slightest bit of sadness or guilt. Finally! I gulped it down greedily.
We continued our rollicking descent until we were enveloped in the cool, speckled fog. The scree ended abruptly, and we hopped onto a grassy path, stumbling for a few steps, and holding on to each other for balance.
“That was amazing!” I breathed.
“Ach, no,” Gavin answered. “‘Amazing’ is just round the bend.”
CHAPTER 11
Standing in the fog was like standing on another planet. The damp gray engulfed us on all sides, blocking out the sun, giving everything a muted glow. White clouds, perfectly compact and cottony, rolled around our feet and floated past our knees like lost sheep.
As we walked, I lost all sense of direction. I could see we were following a faint path through the grass, but the landscape more than an arm’s length away was obscured. The fog also seemed to mute all the sounds of the world. The eerie silence kick-started my serial killer sensor. Why am I stupidly following a stranger into the mist in the middle of nowhere? If he turned on me, they’d probably never even find my body . . .
Just as my brain started to peak with panic, his beautiful accent wafted through the air.
“Nearly there,” he said, and a warm peace settled over me once again.
A gigantic, flat, sharp-edged column of rock twice as high as me appeared on the side of the path like an ancient signpost. It was shaped like a rounded headstone, with a bit notched out near the top left. The dark, wet stone was speckled with bright orange lichen that curled around an elaborate engraving of a cross.
“Right,” he said, “we’re about to cross over.”
I peered down the path and saw nothing different from where we were standing.
“This is your village?” I asked.
“No, this is just the entrance,” he answered. “You won’t see anything until we cross over, which you can do thanks to your necklace, and the fact that you’re with me.”
I was not convinced. “How does this work again?”
He sighed, as if exasperated to have to explain himself to such an idiot. “There are dozens of different dimensions in the universe,” he began. “Humans can only experience four: your three-dimensional idea of the world and time. You can enter another dimension with me, but your wee brain—ahem, I mean your human brain—wouldn’t be able to handle it.”
I clenched my teeth as my wee brain exploded with a million insulting comebacks.
“Your Abbey necklace has a touch of angel essence embedded in it that acts sort of like a translator,” he continued, “so you can perceive the experience. Make sense?”
Nope.
“Yep,” I said.
“I’ll just be needing your hand so I can transfer my energy to you, and we’re off,” he said. He extended his palm to me and waited for my permission.
I slipped my hand into his. Fireworks exploded under my skin. I was ready to pretend I could see his imaginary village just for the thrill of holding his hand, when the necklace suddenly got heavier. And hot.
“What is that?” I asked, grabbing at the pendant with my free hand.
“Nothing to worry about,” he assured me. “Just the necklace working. The sensations will calm down once your body acclimates.”
In a few steps, my neck cooled, and the tingling feeling subsided.
I smelled the village before I could see it: wood smoke and something delicious being cooked over an open flame. A few more steps, and the fog miraculously dissipated, revealing a low, stone wall and the straw-topped roofs of small buildings. Men’s voices and the sound of children laughing drifted over them.
We turned a corner and found a woman standing in the middle of the path, blocking our way. She had been waiting for us.
Gavin unceremoniously dropped my hand, and galloped up and gave her a big hug. With his arm still around her, he introduced us.
“Maren, meet Rielly.”
Rielly was in her late forties or early fifties; I couldn’t tell. Her face had the wrinkles of someone who lived and worked outdoors, but there wasn’t any gray in the brown hair twisted into an elaborate knot at the nape of her neck. She wore a long skirt made of the same plaid as Gavin’s kilt, with an oatmeal-colored blouse, and more plaid wrapped over her shoulder.
I held out my hand. “Nice to meet you.”
She took my hand in both of hers, and held it up to her heart. “Och, she’s a bonnie lass, ain’t she? More beautiful ’an a sunset! You were right, Gav.” He blushed. He told other people about me? And apparently told them I was pretty? I could have fainted at the revelation.
“You’re only missing one thing,” Rielly continued. She lifted a thick ring of flowers and ivy gathered together like a fairy crown, and placed it on my head. “Now you’re a proper maid! On to the festival!” She started toward the village, and we fell in step beside her.
“There’s a festival?” I asked.
“Aye.” Gavin smiled. “It’s kind of a regular thing around here.”