Kelpie Curse: A Feyland Urban Fantasy Tale (The Celtic Fey Book 2)

by Roz Marshall

  At the front sat a wooden spinning wheel with a pile of silvery material on the floor beside it and a skein of glistening thread wound onto its bobbin.

  Urisk pointed a long, thin arm at the spinning wheel. "I need to fill my bobbin with silver thread before I can catch the water horse. Will you assist me, fair maid?"

  -::-

  Elphin hummed to himself as he hurried down the dirt path through the scree-filled lower slopes of Schiehallion, a woven willow basket over his arm and his cloak billowing behind him. High above, the snow-covered upper slopes of the conical-shaped mountain were wreathed in wispy white clouds; down here, the chill from Cailleach's cave was slowly lifting as the sun's rays warmed his leathery skin.

  Clumps of purple heather began to line the track as the barren slopes of the mountain gave way to the more undulating terrain leading to the faerie wood. Yellow-sprigged gorse peppered the peaty ground, and a few yards later, a small blue bird with a white face hopped onto a nearby bush and cocked a head in Elphin's direction.

  "Hello, my friend," he said. "Time for a duet?"

  The bird gave a chirrup in reply, and with a flutter of tiny wings, he was joined by another white-faced bird, red this time.

  "A trio!" he laughed, and cleared his throat. He began to sing a folk song he remembered from his studies at the Conservatory; a rhythmical tune with onomatopoeic lyrics, which evoked the sounds and cadences of tweed weaving in the Scottish islands.

  As the tune filled the air, the little birds sang a counterpoint to his melody, hopping from bush to bush and then tree to tree as he strode along the path and into the faerie wood. As they travelled, other birds joined their chorus until he had a veritable choir in accompaniment as he reached the end of the final verse.

  "Well sung, my friends." He opened his arms like a conductor in front of an audience, and gave a bow. "But now I need to attend to my task and collect some supplies. I will sing with you again very soon, I promise."

  The rainbow-coloured flock cheeped their farewells as he turned to the stream that crossed the path in front of him, and eyed up the stepping stones. They looked sturdy enough to support his weight, and on the far side he spied some mallow root—one of Cailleach's favourite delicacies. Time to forget pleasure and think about work.

  -::-

  After an hour, the tips of Corinne's fingers were starting to burn from the effort of teasing the silk into a thread and feeding it into the spinning wheel. But more worrying was the fact that the pile of raw material had dwindled to nothing, and Urisk had disappeared without saying where he was going. He'd only offered the vague instruction that if she needed more silk, she should collect it from the webs in his cave.

  His spotlessly immaculate cave.

  How am I ever going to find a cobweb here? She stopped pushing the wooden foot pedals that turned the wheel. Flexing her cramped fingers, she stood up. Maybe outside? The sooner she finished Urisk's spinning, the sooner she'd be able to search for the minstrel.

  Birdsong filled the air as she stepped out from under the waterfall and onto the ledge.

  Spotting a figure on the stepping stones at the other side of the pool—Elphin, her friend from her last visit to Feyland—she raised an arm and waved to catch his attention.

  But the sudden movement made her lose her footing on the slippery rock, and with a stab of panic she slid off the ledge and fell helplessly towards the icy depths of the pool. Plunging down, she had time for only a single, terror-filled gasp before the dark water closed like a coffin over her head.

  CHAPTER 7

  ELPHIN WAS NEGOTIATING the last stepping stone when there was a yelp of alarm followed by a large splash in the pool to his left. He knew who it was before he saw her, and was tearing off his cloak and boots before Corinne had breached the surface. But instead of swimming or floating, she flailed her arms and started to sink again. Without thought for his own safety, Elphin took a deep breath and dived into the pool, aiming for the spot where she had gone under.

  The seemingly-still pool was far from it, underwater. Eddies and rills from the nearby waterfall disturbed the depths and caused the pondweed to ripple and flail like a forest in a hurricane. But the water was pure and clean, and Elphin caught a flash of Corinne's archer costume descending rapidly near the far bank.

  With a couple of powerful strokes, he crossed the pool and lunged down to where a smear of green glimmered tantalisingly below him.

  Corinne had stopped fighting now, and her body was limp as he grabbed her beneath the arms and kicked for the surface. Fear for her safety threatened to paralyse his muscles, but with an effort of will he pushed away his worries.

  But his anxiety rekindled when, at the corner of his vision, he spotted something large and white swimming from the edge of the pool and heading in their direction. Another rescuer?

  Or trouble?

  Instinct told him it was the latter, so he kicked even harder for fresh air and safety.

  Seconds later, they broke the surface and he gulped a lungful of air. But Corinne lay slumped in his arms, not breathing, and his heart contracted again. Pulling strongly towards the side, he did not dare look behind him for fear of what he might see, but instead swam as fast and as hard as he could.

  It seemed to take forever, but he finally reached the shallower water at the bank. Heaving her out of the water and scrambling out himself, he glanced behind him just as a huge white shape turned and flicked away from the edge, back towards the middle of the pool. What was that thing?

  Something told him they had been lucky to avoid being caught by it, and he would have breathed a sigh of relief—but Corinne lay motionless on the grassy bank beside him. Still not breathing. His heart cramped. What if she had swallowed some of the faerie water? That would surely bind her to the Realm just as he had been bound, many years ago.

  Would that mean she could not save him? I cannot risk it.

  Dropping to his knees beside her, he pushed on her chest with the heels of his hands, hoping to dislodge any water she had ingested. But there was no change.

  He searched his memory. Somewhere in the distant past, he had seen a veterinarian revive a new-born lamb by breathing for it. Would that work with Corinne?

  He leaned over and opened her sweet mouth, cupping his lips over hers and sending a blast of life-giving air into her lungs. Her chest rose and fell with the breath he had given her, awakening a faint glimmer of hope in his breast. He tried another breath, and a tinge of pink returned to her cheeks. A third, and she suddenly pulled in a great draught of air for herself, then started coughing and spluttering.

  Rolling her onto her side, he thumped on her back as she cleared her lungs. "Did you swallow any of the water?" he asked urgently.

  "D—don't know," she gasped.

  "Spit it out if you can," he said, the knot of worry building again. "You should not eat or drink anything here or you may not be able to return to your own world."

  -::-

  Not be able to return? But who would look after Ghost? And what would Mother say? "I—I've got to return." Corinne said, propping herself on an elbow and looking up at her rescuer.

  "Did you get rid of all the water?"

  "I think so." I hope so. Her mind clearing, she looked from Elphin in his drenched clothes to the deep water of the pool and back again. Her mouth went dry. I would have drowned without him. She was lucky he'd been there. "Thank you for saving me, Elphin," she said, touching his hand. "I slipped. And I can't swim. I'm so glad you saw me."

  "Think nothing of it. I am indebted to you for saving me from the Wild Hunt."

  "Oh, that was more the unicorn than me." Some of her strength returning, she sat up properly and plucked absently at a blade of grass. "I thought I saw him again, in here, but it was just another horse. But you remember how he disappeared into the ring of trees on that hill, after we escaped the Hunt?"

  Elphin nodded.

  "Well, that night in real life, in the middle of a standing stone circle near my
house, I found a white horse. All on his own. No saddle or bridle." She met Elphin's kind orange eyes. "I—I think it was the unicorn from here. Though I can't explain how or why."

  Elphin sat back on his heels. "It could be… A stone circle can act as a conduit between worlds. So it does not surprise me that the unicorn would go to join you in your world."

  "But that's why I need to get home. I need to look after him. I can't stay here, even if I have swallowed some water. Surely it won't count if it was by accident?" Then logic kicked in. "Anyway, my time in the sim café will run out soon, and I'll be logged out. So I can't stay in the game."

  Elphin's brow creased in his leathery, careworn face. "What is this 'sim café' you speak of? You mentioned it the first time we met."

  "It's a place in town where you can rent a VR rig." At his questioning look, she explained further. "Virtual reality. Feyland is a game you can play, where your character enters a simulated environment. But you know this, don't you? You're a non-player character?"

  Elphin's eyes dropped. "Something of that ilk."

  That was right, he'd said that before, when she first met him. "Well, anyway, the VR kit makes it feel like you're really there. Really here." She shrugged. "It's confusing. I can even smell the flowers. And nearly drown," she added with a wry smile, "so it's very life-like."

  "It is hard for me to understand. But you are getting cold." He pointed at her arms, on which goose bumps the size of duck eggs had appeared. "We need to get you warm."

  "Th—there are some blankets in Urisk's cave." She pointed at the waterfall.

  He jumped up. "My cloak is by the stepping stones. I will get that for you."

  -::-

  Negotiating the stepping stones with his cloak in his arms, Elphin's head jerked up when the scolding tones of a high-pitched voice reached him from across the pool.

  "Why have you stopped spinning?" A hairy creature with the body of a man but the legs of an animal was standing before Corinne; hands on hips and bearded chin jutting forwards. "Is the bobbin full of thread?"

  Hunched and shivering on the grass before him, Corinne's mouth turned downwards. "Not yet. I'm sorry."

  Elphin hurried the last few steps and draped the cloak around Corinne's shoulders. He addressed the creature. "She fell in the pool. And she needs to get home."

  "But she promised to help me fill my bobbin with silver thread."

  "Is this true?" Elphin addressed his question to Corinne.

  Pulling the folds of the mantle around her, she nodded. "I said I'd help Urisk. But I ran out of webs to spin, and came outside to look for more. And then I fell in the pool."

  So she had agreed to help this strange creature, and she would be bound by that agreement. "But you need to get home, to look after your… horse?"

  "Yes."

  Could he help her and still get back to Schiehallion before Cailleach would come looking for him? Maybe.

  "Urisk," he set his shoulders, "I will do this task for you, to free Corinne from her obligation. Show me what to do."

  -::-

  The roar of the waterfall receded as Corinne stepped along the path Urisk had pointed out. Only a minute's walk, he'd said, and it would lead to a mushroom ring which would log her out of the game and return her to real life.

  Then her steps faltered, as she remembered Elphin's warnings after he'd rescued her from the pool.

  If I can return.

  Had she swallowed any of the water? I suppose I'll find out pretty soon. Her shoulders sagged and her pace slowed even more. Feyland was nice—for a time. But she couldn't cope with living here forever.

  On the lower branches of a silvery birch beside the path, a tiny orange bird trilled a lyrical tune, a beautiful song that distracted her and made her forget her worries for a few moments. Its singing was so lovely it reminded her of the minstrel from her first foray into the game.

  The minstrel! She'd forgotten about the minstrel. Her dream about him had been the whole reason she'd come back into the game today, and she'd forgotten to even look for him. Next time, she told herself, and pulled the cloak tighter around her arms. I'm such a ditz.

  Stopping again, she looked down at the cloth between her fingers. Elphin's cloak. She'd forgotten to return his cloak. Where was her brain today?

  She stared back down the path, torn between her desire to return home and her guilt at keeping his cloak—his magical cloak, as she'd discovered on her first visit when they'd both hidden underneath it; invisible to the fey folk from the Bright Court who passed nearby. Would he miss it? Would he have loaned it to her if he needed it that much?

  The white-spotted mushrooms of the faerie ring drew her eye again. I'll return it tomorrow, she decided, crossing her fingers for luck as she stepped into the circle.

  Illuminated particles like fairy dust danced through the air as Corinne's archer avatar de-materialised. But as she disappeared back to real life, the woollen cloak slipped from her shoulders and sloughed onto the mossy grass in the centre of the ring.

  CHAPTER 8

  GHOST'S EYELIDS DROOPED half-shut as Corinne brushed his neck, the regular strokes buffing the hairs until his coat gleamed in the morning sunshine. But her attention was only half on her task, as last night's dream kept replaying through her mind like a video on repeat.

  There had been no running from the nightmarish Wild Hunt. Instead, the dream had been more static, more sinister. The blue-faced hag had featured again, sitting on a throne of granite in a dark cave, gazing intently at a large but shallow block of ice, which reminded Corinne of a film screen.

  Images flickered across the ice and, as the viewing angle shifted, Corinne saw that the crone was cackling as she watched the minstrel run through a forest, pursued by a huge white wolf. He appeared to be tiring, and the wolf seemed to be gaining on him, red eyes glowing like hot coals and saliva drooling from its snarling mouth. But before Corinne could find out what happened to the minstrel, she had woken up. I need to get into Feyland today. I've got to find out what happened to him.

  Footsteps on the cobbles jerked her back to reality.

  "He's enjoying that," said Phemie, appearing round the corner of the stone barn with a bucket of sheep feed, and nodding at the horse. "Must feel like a massage to him."

  "I suppose so," Corinne said, switching the brush to her other hand as her right arm was beginning to ache.

  "Is that you getting him ready for the show?"

  "Oh, uh, no." Corinne felt colour rising in her cheeks. "Just grooming him."

  "Entries close today, remember."

  "Mmm." She mustered her courage. Miss Irving might not like this, after her being the one that suggested they go. "I realised that I can't go after all. It's too far to ride, and there are busy roads in the way." Her heart had sunk when she'd worked out that they couldn't get there, and the disappointment had made her realise that she'd been looking forward to the show, to finding out how talented Ghost really was and taking the first steps towards her dream of becoming a show-jumper.

  Phemie's brow creased. "Do you no' have a lorry? Or a trailer?"

  "No. When I was in England, the farmer had a lorry and he took us to shows. And then, when Midnight got arthritic, I stopped doing competitions. So we never needed one."

  Placing her bucket carefully on the ground, Phemie scratched Ghost's forehead thoughtfully, and addressed her next comment more to the horse than Corinne. "I could give you a lift to the show if you want. Wi' my Jacobs. I've got the ram entered and a couple o' the ewes."

  Corinne stopped brushing. "Really?"

  "Aye." Phemie jerked her chin at the horse and picked up her bucket. "Just have him ready to leave at nine. The livestock classes don't start too early. But that should be in plenty time for your jumping."

  "Gosh. Thanks, Miss Irving. I'll have him ready."

  I can go to the show! A smile broke out on her face, and she re-applied herself to grooming with renewed vigour. Maybe if they did well, she'd be accepted into the 'in
crowd' by the other girls. And it'd give her the chance to see exactly what Ghost was capable of. She had a feeling that he would do very well.

  CHAPTER 9

  WHEN CORINNE HAD hurried off towards the mushroom circle and had not returned, a great weight lifted from Elphin's heart. He felt sure she had been able to return safely to her own world, despite nearly drowning in the magical pool, and he hummed happily as he worked; his feet rhythmically driving the pedals which turned the large spinning wheel and twirled the bobbin.

  Every few minutes, a small bird would fly into the cave and deposit a silvery spider's web onto the pile of fibres by Elphin's feet, then fly off whilst singing along to Elphin's tune. The birds were Elphin's secret weapon, which he hoped would help him finish the task and get back to Cailleach's cave in plenty of time.

  When Urisk had first shown him how to work the spinning wheel, there had been very little fibre in the raw material pile, and Elphin's first task had been to gather more. But Urisk had just asked him to collect webs and spin them into thread—he hadn't specified how. So, after the goat-man had disappeared off somewhere on 'urgent business', Elphin had recruited some of his feathered friends to help, and the bobbin was looking much healthier than it had when he started.

  "Not long now," he said to the next bird that flew in, and stood up to stretch his cramped muscles.

  Stepping over to the cave entrance, he peered out through the streams of water falling from the cliff above, and froze in alarm. How had it grown so late without him noticing? I will be in great trouble now.

  Eyes wide, he turned back to the spinning wheel. Would Urisk consider what he had done so far as sufficient to complete the task? If he left now, would Corinne be free of her obligation to the strange goat-man? And could he get back to Schiehallion in time?

  As he vacillated in indecision, the eerie howl of a wolf sent a chill through his bones. His gaze flew to the cave mouth. Can it be…?