Scarlet Vamporium: Vamporium #2 (22 page)

He needs me.

I need him.

We've locked our spirits together and to live fully we cannot exist apart. We're symbiots who will perish separated.

Without you I'm sure to die. We won't survive this.

The landscape behind him shifts, adjusting its weight to the other foot, and I blink at the strange phenomenon. Air warps behind him and immediately I realize he is not alone out there. Something...
someone
... is with him.

The sidhe of his ancestors?

Gulping in bitter wind I take a step closer and his expression changes, looking expectantly at me, but instead of staring at him I'm anxious as to what it is beyond him distorting the atmosphere like a warbled mirror.

In recognition of my acknowledgment and attention, the mirage behind him solidifies.

This time no power on heaven or earth can hold me back as I start sprinting to Douglas, keeping my focus riveted on the phenomenon.

He widens his arms, readying to catch me, bending at the knee for impact, and I run my legs off in true speed, into his arms, lifted and swung, comforting breath back in my neck when lips press their desperation into my skin.

When he puts me down, I tilt to stare behind him, seeing the enormous being.

He glances over his shoulder and pivots so fast I'm impressed he keeps his balance. “Crivens!”

It's tall. I thought it was the size of a horse, or like some people say, teeny tiny and small as a poodle. But no, none of that is accurate at all. It's gargantuan. There's no way it could exist in the forest which is where the legends say it hides. Now I understand. Only high up where there is only open land and rock, only up here where so few wander, only here can it survive.

Carefully, slowly, I lift my hand the way you let a dog smell you on first introduction. Tenderly touching the pink muzzle, it's warm and soft, the big golden eyes staring at me unblinking, its face a long V, his forehead much wider than the ratio we see on equines today.

It shifts, flexing powerful shoulder muscles, tolerating my inquisitive exploration and rude staring.

“I dinnae believe this. Ellie, it cannae be.”

“Look, the mane, each hair is like a mirror. It reflects the environment like stealth technology. That's how it hides, how it blends. You'd never ever see this against the sky or rock when it somehow uses that image and projects it like markings in its coat.

His enormous neck curves so he can stare at me. It's as if it knows I'm leaving and the thought is killing me, because it's giving me a gift no one in living memory has seen. He drops the camouflage and stands before us in all his beauty.

Our legends have this creature's description so very wrong.

His body is covered in a fine coat of pale agate blue, so pale it's not quite white and not quite silvery gray.

Every strand in his mane and tail is one white one black, speckled that way like the granite lurking beneath the subsoil, and long, reaching halfway to the ground. He's easily twenty feet tall.

His hoofs are shielded by a petticoat of long white fur and they're bigger than a tree trunk in girth.

Staring up at him, I whisper to Doug, “No one could ride this. He's huge.”

“Aye, but they weren't built tae ride, they were built tae remind us how little and insignificant we are. We're the ants who overrun the earth harvesting everythin' in sight, when in times forgotten all beasties were this big. The gods were huge which is why ancient temples have such high and wide doors, and dinosaurs were normal sized. But mebbe we dinnae learn from the past which is why all creatures become extinct.”

It shakes its head, whipping us with mane hair, and he sidesteps to face us again with those incredible eyes of gossamer gold.

“He's beautiful,” I gasp, still in shock.

Doug's arms wrap around me and he pulls me to lean against him, the two of us watching the legend posed before us. “This is Caledonia, Ellie. We still have prehistoric monsters swimming in the lochs and we know our god carriet the first hammer, long before any norse male god did. I can see Cailleach relishing these beauties running wild across her highlands. This is her land, the land of the fearless warriors, the land where the sidhe live in harmony with men.”

Silence falls between us and I dare to reach up and touch the unicorn again, knowing there is no uni to his corn, or his horn. There is no horn to speak of, instead it is a glow that reaches up like a beacon from his wide forehead.

We could never touch it because it's not bone or horn, but perhaps I can feel it if he'll let me.

Warm gentle eyes blaze through my spirit, stripping me of the sorrow that was destroying me, and I watch in amazement as he lowers his head, never taking his gaze off me.

Carefully I run my hand up the shelf between his nostrils to his eyes, hesitating in front of the pale blue beam. It shimmers like his pelt does, and I know this opportunity may never ever happen again, so I lift my hand and press a fingertip against the beam spiking out of his head. It lengthens, brightens, chasing a buzz through my finger, blasting my blood with euphoria.

The thud behind me alarms me, and I snap to face it, seeing Doug sitting flat with his legs underneath him, staring up at the enormous animal which must surely have been a steed and friend to the gods the ancients wrote about.

“The best part of this fer me is knowing that they cannae be hunted fer their horns. Ye cannae harvest light. Thank god one of our creatures is safe from mankind's greed.”

“Don't you dare tell a soul!” I demand, kneeling in front of him, beseeching him. “Please Dougie, this is special, it's a miracle shared with just us, please don't ruin it, don't cheapen it, never ever tell anyone. Not even Rod. Promise me!”

“Aye, I willnae. No one would believe me anyhow. Her secret's safe with me.”

“Her?” I look back up at the glossy gelding, positive it's male.

“Aye. Her companion's right behind her.”

Bolting into a stand, I peer around her, finally seeing the landscape warp around a shape a third larger than she is.

Wow!

This is outstanding! How many of them are up here, hiding on god's last outpost for the free?

I'm humbled and incline my head, bowing, placing my hands together in the universal symbol of thanks.

She blinks her white eyelashes that are longer than my fingers, and just like that we're alone. You don't hear them come and you don't hear them go. They are like ethereal alchemists who have truly become one with their environment.

My insides feel empty and weightless, as if I'm no longer solid. The entire experience is surreal and I turn to look at Doug where he sits in awed paralysis, staring after them with protective love in his eyes. He's staring after them the way he stares at me.

I know he'll always keep them safe. He's becoming a ranger and I know deep in my soul that Doug will dedicate his life to protecting them.

“They shouldnae be called unicorn. The name makes no sense.”

Nodding, I agree, but can't find the words, so instead I sink onto the stony ground and take his hand in mine, holding onto the sacrosanct moment. It's hallowed, special, magnificent.

Sitting in holy silence together with only the secretive wind and clouds as witnesses, we stare at the empty land above us, looking into the space with longing.

Tharaysel
.

It's whispered into my aura like a wish falling into a fountain.

Looking up, I think back,
Pardon?

We are not unicorn, we are tharaysel.

What does that mean?
I ask mentally into the air.

Not here, not there, but everywhere. Our motto, which may help you understand, is Light is Might.

I bow my head again, letting the wind sweep the ground with my hair in reverent thanks.

“Ellie?” whispers in my ear, his arms around me again.

“Yes,” I say, staring straight into his eyes.

“What is it? Yer eyes are glowin'.”

“She spoke to me.”

“What did she say?”

“They are not unicorns, they are Tha- ra- cell.”

He smiles as if he understands it intuitively. “Aye, that sounds about right. What else did she say?”

“Their motto to help me understand their meaning is Light is Might.”

He nods again, sharing his inner serenity with me in caressing strokes up and down my arms. “Ellie, the problem with mankind is they dinnae respect privacy. If yer patient, and respectful, eventually even the shy creatures come out of hiding. We can live in harmony if we respect each others needs and territory. That's our national animal, because here we treasure the rare creatures.”

Smiling wistfully at me, his eyes cheerful and captivating, he says quietly, “I've lived ma life with two feet in nature, och the things I've seen, there's no office I can work in. I would die stuck inside. This is ma world, this is ma home, I cannae bow tae the system which cages our hearts and minds. Only this place with the fresh air and the drizzle can satisfy me. I've seen things ye cannae believe, things I havenae told a soul. I'm just so grateful this time the magic happened with someone I love.”

He says it with his eyes wide and beguiling, slapping my spirit with his vulnerable stare, laying it flat out and warming it with his heart.

I believe him. I believe this land has so many secrets only the keepers witness them. And a true keeper of secrets never shares, never tells, instead they spend their lives protecting it from harm.

“I promise tae always keep yer secret. Yer not human, and I didnae think I'd live tae witness the path my ancestor walked, but it happened.”

The emotion thickening his voice compresses my ability to breathe, and I have a lump jamming my throat again.

Tears have gathered in his eyes, and yet he smiles at me with such love even though I know it's being poisoned by heartache.

Gently framing my face with his hands, he says, “Tha gaol agam ort.”

His voice cracks, splitting his words into phrases both husky and gruff.

My mind heard it too this time, and I spill hot tears into his hands when I whisper his own words back, “Ha guel ahkhum orsht.”

“Take it with you wherever ye gae. Keep it safe in here,” he presses his hand against my chest. “No matter how far ye travel know that in there, where it matters, there's a man of flesh and bone who loves ye as much as he loves Caledonia and her beasties. I love ye forever Ellie. Ne'er ferget it, promise me.”

I nod, sobbing silently, because the most precious gift of any species is love. I've fallen in love with Doug and his land, his kingdom of moss and stream.

It is not here, not there, but everywhere.

My kind walk this world in secret with our begging bowls held out to strangers for love charity, always searching for a human to love us. I have one, and now I cannot stay, but I'll be back.

I will never ever give my heart to another human.

It's Doug, or it's no one at all.

He is my stone of destiny. My MacLeod; the brave and proud.

Tha gaol agam ort. (I love you.)

I promise to him, heart to heart, spirit to spirit, soul to soul, “Tha gaol agam ort.”

~The End~

Epilogue

Douglas:

“Ah'm just callin' tae see if yer okay?”

Staring at the wind chime hanging from the ceiling, I watch a magical breeze tinkle it, saying tae Rod, “No' really. I'm scunnered Roddie. I didnae think it was possible tae feel this way about anyone.”

“But ye have texting. She said she'd be back in time fer Samhain. Och mate, yer a sap and a half. Why dinnae ye come out taenight?”

“No thanks, it's ma turn tae cook taenight anyhow.”

I listen to him sigh, tapping my finger with agitation against ma phone, “Dougie, ye cannae hide away until she comes back.”

“I'm no' hidin'!”

“Ye are hidin' tae! Andrea keeps askin' efter ye–”

“Fer shite's sake Roddie, I dinnae want tae hear about bloody Andrea Robertson! I dinnae care if she runs through the streets stark naked, I'm no' interested!”

“Hang on...” he grumbles, and I'm tempted tae just hang up on him. “Allo?”

“What?” I snap back, fed up now.

“Selene asks, would ye like tae come out with us taenight?”

“Where tae?”

“I never heard of it. Some place called the vamporium.”

I get a wee bit lightheaded thinking of it, and I nod, ma mind made up, “Aye, okay. Tell her tae pick me up at nine.”

“Pick ye up? Ye cheeky lad, she's ma girl no' yer chauffeur!”

“And yer a ned,” I smile, hanging up.

Plodding tae the kitchen, I know the neeps and tatties ain't gonnae cook themselves.

Roderick MacDonald is in fer an education. He has no clue who he's dating.

This book is for the fairest land of them all...

O Fhlúir na h-Albann,

cuin a chí sinn

an seórsa laoich

a sheas gu bás 'son

am bileag feóir is fraoich,

a sheas an aghaidh

feachd uailleil Iomhair

's a ruaig e dhachaidh

air chaochladh smaoin?

Na cnuic tha lomnochd

's tha duilleach Foghair

mar bhrat air lár,

am fearann caillte

dan tug na seóid ud grádh,

a sheas an aghaidh

feachd uailleil Iomhair

's a ruaig e dhachaigh

air chaochladh smaoin.

Tha 'n eachdraidh dúinte

ach air díochuimhne

chan fheum i bhith,

is faodaidh sinn éirigh

gu bhith nar Ríoghachd a-rís

a sheas an aghaidh

feachd uailleil Iomhair

's a ruaig e dhachaidh

air chaochladh smaoin.

In these pages you will visit the home of the Brave. This is the flower of Scotland... the national anthem.

O flower of Scotland

When will we see

Your like again

That fought and died for

Your wee bit hill and glen