Page 80 of Loched in Love

I pull Elena close and wrap a broad arm around her shoulders as we step toward the shimmering translucent wall of water that seals my lair. The shifting iridescent veil of magic that keeps the crushing pressure of the loch from flooding my home.

As we walk through the barrier, a strange breathless sensation washes over us, and the air thins before we break through the other side with a soft pop—like the breaking of a bubble.

Instantly, the glow of the cave is replaced by the deep and dark depths of the loch itself.

Holding the trident out ahead of me, its magic flares to life and carves out a dry seabed to walk through the heart of the lake.

The dark water churns behind us, two walls of impressive height held in place by magical barriers as the heavy mist keeps my magical doings hidden.

I guide Elena along the clear path as we head out of the loch and the towering walls of darkness give way to pale and misty gray morning light. We approach the shallows, the parted lake collapsing behind us as we walk out onto a secluded pebbled beach hidden by thick patches of trees and ferns.

Tapping the butt of the trident against a stone, it vanishes back into the ether, safely tucked away until I need it again. I shake the stray droplets from my hair and breathe in the clean scent of Scottish dew. My phone chimes cheerfully as it connects back to the network towers.

Holding Elena’s hand, I lead her up a winding dirt path that cuts through the steep hillside. The morning air is cold and biting at our cheeks but the promise of food in the air quickens our pace. After a short walk uphill, the trail opens up behind a stone walled cafe that appears nestled inside the right side of the cliff edge, overlooking the expanse of the beautiful Loch Ness below.

The morning sun is just starting to burn through the thick layer of fog as we bypass some of the more crowded, by the looks of its indoor booths, and head straight for the light pine picnic table on the outdoor patio. As the scent of sizzling foods and brewing coffee drifts through the air, my stomach lets out an almighty growl of discomfort.

“Boy does it smell like breakfast is going to be good this morning. I’m looking forward to food that doesn’t come out of Maren’s magic cooler, aren’t you?” I ask as we sit down at the bench, completely out of doors and surrounded by the wild highland heather and open sky.

“Yeah, it does smell really good,” Elena replies.

I pull out my phone, determined to message Maren before the want to hurl Frank’s credit card into the lake wins out, but my fingers, unfamiliar with the small buttons of the thing, betray me. I type out a simple ‘Do you still do bounty exchanges’ but my big thumbs manage to smash three keys at once, turning the text into a mashup of words that make no sense.

Elena lets out a soft laugh and leans across the picnic table to gently pry the device from my hand. “Here, let the person with human capabilities do the typing before you accidentally break it.”

“The buttons on the thing are entirely too small. I sometimes had to get Connor to help me with it,” I grumble, though I relax, my heart warming a bit when she easily corrects my mess and shoots off the message. “Thank you, my flower.”

Our talk is cut short as a cheerful young waitress approaches the table carrying a notepad and a steaming pot of coffee. “Good morning folks, what can I get you started with on this lovely morning?”

“Two full Scottish breakfasts,” I say, as the rich aroma of frying vegetables and breakfast meats from the kitchen greet my nose and make my stomach growl in the process. “And a couple of mugs of that black coffee, please.”

“Coming right up,” she says with a bright smile, jotting it down before heading back inside.

As she walks away, I realize I’ve still no money as the harsh reality of the current financial situation hits me, and the knowledge that I’m going to have to use Frank’s card one last time. “I’ll use it this last time till Maren can help get us sorted, aye?”

Elena, as if sensing my inner turmoil, places her hand over mine and gives a reassuring squeeze, but before she can speak, the phone on her hand begins to buzz.

She smiles warmly, her thumb tapping on the screen of my phone as it vibrates again. “Well, it doesn’t look like you’ll be having to wait long. Your cousin just replied.” She turns the screen toward me.

Maren: I can pop by in a couple hours actually. I’m already heading north for a delivery later and can meet inside the loch. Bring coffee.

I let out a low sigh of relief and nod. “Inside the loch. Aye, good. That’ll keep the gold out of human sight at least.”

Elena hands the phone back to me and as the screen lights up in my palm, I notice a couple of icons flashing at the top.

Now that I’m topside and reconnected to the internet, the notifications are finally trickling through and as I swipe down with a careful thumb, I see a missed call and a single text from Whitley. I open the message, bracing myself for some sort of supernatural emergency, but a wave of affection washes over me as I read her words.

Whitley: Just wanted to check in and see how you and Elena are settling in. I hope you guys made it safe and are well.

I chuckle softly under my breath, shaking my head. She doesn’t actually need anything at all, but simply looking out for me, making sure her friend made it back to his home in one piece. It’s a strange and touching feeling to realize how many people care about us now, and I slide the phone away, deciding to give her a proper message once my stomach is full.

Before I can worry more on Maren’s visit, the waitress returns, carrying two heavy steaming ceramic plates she sets down on the picnic table, the rich, savory aromas of the Scottish breakfast filling the chilly morning air.

The eggs are scrambled to a perfect golden yellow, sweet and buttery, resting right alongside the array of meats, smelling of perfection.

“Enjoy your breakfast and let me know if I can get you anything else,” the waitress says with a friendly nod before heading back toward the cafe doors.

I stare down at the steaming food and then back at Frank’s black card sitting mockingly beside my plate, and reach out to pick it up, my chest tightening with the stubborn ache of old fashioned pride.