“We can feel lots of things we can’t see,” she says pensively. “Especially in a place like this.”
I look at the still, deceptive water. The loch that appears to be so quiet and yet, last night, released a killer mermaid upon us. “I suppose.”
“Witch!”
The word is shouted by a man from further down the bank of the loch, and it’s not called out in anger or hatred. Rather, with delight.
Opal and I turn to see who it is. A middle-aged man with grey hair is bounding towards us, his enthusiastic energy infectious. I watch Opal’s shoulders sag, possibly in relief.
“Angus,” she says, her voice a mixture of fondness and exasperation. “Can the museum spare you?”
“Oh, of course, it’s winter. Not our season. I’m so glad I caught you, Opal!”
“Angus, this is my niece, Ramya,” Opal says nonchalantly. “Ramya, this is Angus. He runs the visitor centre back in Drumnadrochit.”
The older man shakes my hand with ferocious gusto. “I know your grandparents well! And your aunt and her sisters, of course. How do you do!”
“Hello,” I say, vibrato in my voice from the power of his greeting. “Nice to meet you.”
“Did your aunt tell you about the beastie?”
“No!” I cry and Opal inhales.
“Because there isn’t one, Angus,” she says wearily. “I won’t stop you fooling boatloads of tourists in the summer, but you can’t bring those tales around here.”
“Your family taught me all about magic,” Angus tells me, happily. “Your grandfather and I would have long chats about it on this very bank while this one practiced enchantments.”
I look to Opal but she’s staring off into the distance, waiting for the conversation to end.
“You really think there’s a monster in the loch?” I ask, wondering if the fearsome creature that almost captured Marley is behind all the myths and stories.
“I know there is,” Angus responds, triumphantly. Opal sighs but he ignores her. “Too many strange occurrences. Too many accounts from the odd traveller, all of which match up. There is most certainly something in there.”
“Did you come all this way to tell us that, Angus?” Opal asks.
“No, I came to see if Isabelle is coming to bridge this Friday. I couldn’t get through over the phone.”
“She’s,” Opal glances quickly at me and then away again, speaking with slow intensity, “out of the country on important business. If you need any help at the bridge club, then you can come to me. All right?”
“Ah,” Angus says, understanding entering his face. “I see. Very good.”
I frown, a little confused.
“This your first time in Loch Ness, young lady?” asks Angus, affably.
“I was here when I was very little,” I admit, “but this is my first time back.”
“Well, Angus knows just about everything a non-magical person can know about these parts,” Opal tells me, warmly.
“And I get the rest from the Hidden Folk,” Angus adds, looking very pleased with that fact. “They know they don’t have to Glamour around me. I hear all sorts. Did you know that this loch is said to be connected underwater to another? To Loch Maree! Queen Victoria herself visited there, and they are believed to have their very own monster, too.”
“People love to make up fairy-tales about monsters of the deep,” Opal says wryly. “When they have real ones on their very doorstep.”
“Another loch with a whole other monster?”
I say, teasingly. “Wow. Shame Loch Ness gets all
the attention.”
“It is, rather,” Angus agrees, either missing my sarcasm or choosing to ignore it.
“We’re a little busy at the moment, Angus,”
Opal says, not impolitely. “I’ll drop in on you, if I get the chance.”
“There is, uh, something else,” Angus says, guardedly.
Opal arches an eyebrow. “Yes?”
“A few Hidden Folk have been in my cellar for a dram of Whisky and…well… there’s been some talk.”
“Of Fae?” I ask, perhaps a little prematurely.
Both adults stare at me. Angus looks shocked. “Fae?”
“Some were spotted in the area,” Opal says rashly, glowering at me. “Lock your doors and trust your gut, it should be fine.”
“Well. That’s… anyhow. Hidden Folk have been in, regular folk as well, if I’m being honest.”
