Page 42 of Blood & Claw

The road continued north around a furlong east of Loch Lethe now, although they’d left the highway to make camp. Dale had pointed out that it was foolish to rest within sight of the road. Their fire would attract other travelers, some of whom might not wish them well. Instead, he’d chosen a secluded spot, surrounded by a growth of willows, the last of their dying leaves gilded in the setting sun.

The air grew cold, and she was grateful for her thick cloak.

Gateway was just a day away now—she’d even heard people muttering about it in Cleghorn. They’d need to find lodgings the following night, with a roaring fire and a locked door. Even though the Slew no longer terrorized the night for most of the year, they—and other spirits and malevolent faerie creatures—still ventured out at Gateway. The veil between the living and the dead was thinnest then.

And only a fool would sleep outdoors.

Hopefully, Gateway would slow those men down too. Maybe they’d end up staying in the same village. It was possible, especially now that they were drawing closer. They rode fast horses, but Rùn was swift too.

Boots crunching on smooth pebbles, Ailsa continued down the shore, gathering wood as she went.

The setting sun sparkling off the loch’s mirrored surface made the tension knotted deep in her chest ease. Just a little. Hold fast, Kayla. I’m coming.

Picking up another stick, she viewed her armload. This would be enough to get the fire started at least. Although she’d collect more.

She was about to turn and make her way back to Dale and Rùn when a pony’s soft whicker drew her attention. Glancing left, her gaze settled upon a garron. It was a pretty pony with a long mane, a tail the color of a raven’s wing, and a sleek liver-colored coat. But surprisingly, it was wearing a saddle and bridle, as if someone had just been riding it and left it there.

Disconcerted, Ailsa glanced around.

There was no one to be seen.

The garron was unaccompanied.

Temptation quickened in her belly. She needed a mount of her own, a measure of independence. Riding with Dale was awkward to say the least, and when they rescued Kayla, they could ride double on this sturdy pony. It would carry them all the way home to Braewall.

“Good eve, my beauty,” she murmured, taking a couple of steps forward.

The pony watched her, nickering gently once more.

A smile curved Ailsa’s lips. She’d always wanted her own horse. Dale could teach her how to ride. She would—

“Don’t take another step.”

She stiffened, freezing mid-stride.

Dale’s voice was soft yet held a warning. She hadn’t heard him approach, for she’d been so focused on the pony. “That’s an aughisky.”

She stilled, her hand lowering.

“You really have led a sheltered life, haven’t you?” Incredulity laced his voice, and she flushed hot.

Fuck. She should have known better.

She knew what an aughisky was. A malevolent water spirit that lurked around lochs and rivers, waiting for the unwary.

Nausea rolled over her then. What had she nearly done?

“Aughiskies often take the shape of horses,” Dale went on. His hand then closed around her upper arm, as if he was worried she wouldn’t heed him. “Touch one, and it’ll drag you into the loch.”

Ailsa nodded.

She recalled the gruesome tales then. A fishwife in Braewall had once told her how aughiskies pulled their victims under the water and then feasted on their entrails. The story had terrified her at the time, but then, as she’d gotten older, part of her hadn’t believed it to be true.

But she wasn’t going to ignore Dale’s warning now.

Clearing her throat, she moved away from her bodyguard, forcing him to let go of her arm, and away from the pony that watched them with dark, intelligent eyes.

“Right then,” she said with forced brightness, even as her skin prickled. “Time to get a fire going.”