Eternal Moon

Chapter 16: The Bandruí

Sorcha heard the footsteps heading towards her cottage before she heard their voices. Deep in a meditative state, her senses had sharpened while her mind rested. It kept her magic strong, especially as her body weakened. Even with supernatural help, two thousand years took a toll on a living organism. But perhaps... not for long.

She felt the Campbell girl distinctly. After discovering the truth of the girl's identity, Sorcha recognized even the sound of her breath. Smiling to herself, Sorcha lifted up from her chair and went to the front door. She was ready for them.

The pair of visitors jumped a little when she opened the door to greet them. Old Malcolm was clearly drunk - his cap was askew on his bald head and a few days' growth of beard covered his grizzled cheeks. He lumbered next to the girl, presumably there as a guide instead of for himself. Sorcha hadn't seen the codger in several years. But he still owed her and the guilty look in his eyes told her he was finally paying his penance.

"And what should bring these two visitors to my doorstep on this fine summer day?"

Jamie looked a tad unsure but stepped ahead regardless, trailing ahead of Malcolm. "I was told you could help me get out of here."

Sorcha caught Malcolm's glance; one of his feet circled the dirt.

"Aye. But I would have thought that you were warned about me. Some people in town don't have a very high opinion of me."

"So I've heard."

Sorcha did not try to hide the grin that came across her face. Her excitement grew.

Eyeing Malcolm, Sorcha stated, "I'll take it from here, old man. Ms. Campbell, you can come in and join me for a cup of tea."

Again, the young woman hesitated, but after a thank-you to Malcolm, she squared her shoulders and walked into the cottage.

Malcolm's shoulders dropped with relief and remorse; his old eyes sad and watery.

"Are we even now?" his hoarse voice croaked.

"That depends, doesn't it?"

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Like most of the few visitors who ever had the privilege to go inside the cottage, Jamie marveled at the size of the interior. From the outside, Sorcha's hovel looked like a one-room stone hut. Inside, a small kitchen, living room, and foyer greeted guests. Down the hall, Sorcha kept her own private chamber. And down the stairs, hidden near her chamber, were the steps to the dungeon. But Jamie would see that later. Depending on how the afternoon went.

Sorcha watched the young woman closely as she took in her surroundings. Petite but a good, feminine figure. Dark brown hair swept up into a ponytail. High cheekbones and dark green eyes that worked constantly. She could see the intelligence in them, their curiosity and investigative nature. This girl was no fool, but Sorcha already knew that.

"Sit," she invited the young woman as she prepared some tea and a tray.

Jamie gingerly took a seat on the worn sofa Sorcha had picked up sometime in the late '80s. It creaked under the woman's small weight.

"So, Ms. Campbell, how can I help you?"

Jamie eyed the steaming cup of tea in front of her warily and Sorcha laughed. "I promise, no secret ingredients in this one."

Jamie took the cup. "I guess I should thank you for the soup."

Perhaps, though it had not produced the results Sorcha had wanted. The gods knew better though. Sometimes.