Mary Robb - Down the Rabbit Hole

Her hand flew to her mouth. “That’s why I was being warned to be indoors before dark. We are drawing near to the new moon.”

“It is, in fact, upon us. Through the years many have spotted the great stag, known as the Beast of the Highlands. Many more have heard the fearsome sound of hooves racing through their villages. All who live here avoid going out after dark, especially on the night of a new moon. And each time, I am prepared to die. But this time, more than ever, I am convinced of it.”

“There must be something we can do.” She pushed away from him and began to pace. “What if I were to tie you up? Or lock you in the stables?”

He reached out a hand to stop her pacing and drew her back down into his arms. “Do you not think I have tried such things? But I am helpless to evade this curse. I am compelled to kick and bite and free myself, even though I know I should not. I am helpless to stop the curse. And tonight, at midnight, as the new moon rises, I believe I will face my final hunter. My executioner.”

“Darda’s son, Ian.”

He nodded. “Or one of his accomplices.”

Beth wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly to her. Against his temple she whispered, “This can’t be. None of this makes any sense. There has to be a way to stop this madness.”

“There is none. But until midnight, there is a way to distract ourselves from the horror that is to come.” He laid her down and kissed her with a tenderness that said, more than any words, just what he was feeling.

And then, with a desperation born of the knowledge that this could be their last time together, they took each other beyond the fears and doubts and pain to a place of peace and tenderness.

A place where only lovers can go.

Beth lay in the darkness, feeling Colin’s arms around her, his heartbeat as erratic as her own. During their time together they’d pushed away the fear in the only way they could. Now there was nothing left to do but face the fate decreed by Darda’s curse.

Beth had shared with him every scheme she could imagine to evade this cruel outcome, but he’d assured her that he had already attempted everything imaginable through the years. Darda’s curse was unbreakable.

As the new moon began to rise over their balcony, he brushed a soft kiss on her lips and slid from the pallet.

“Wait. You mustn’t go. I can’t let you.” She caught his hand and clung fiercely.

His voice was an urgent whisper. “Understand, love, the call is so fierce, I would crush you beneath my hooves in my haste to get to Stag’s Head Peak. Now that the time is upon me, nothing can stop this overwhelming need.”

Tossing a cloak over his plaid, he strode from the room without a pause.

As the door closed, lightning streaked across the sky, followed moments later by a crash of thunder so close, it shook the rafters.

Chilled, Beth pulled on the woolen nightgown that had been left on the chaise. Turning to the fireplace, she stirred the ashes and added a log, but even the sudden blaze of flames couldn’t warm her. The thought of what was about to happen to Colin left her chilled to the bone.

Shivering, she ran to the balcony, hoping for one last glimpse of his beloved face.

Lightning streaked, illuminating a great stag, its antlers as wide as a longbow as it raced across the courtyard and fled into the countryside beyond. Lightning flashed across Stag’s Head Peak in the distance.

After a day watching the hunt, Beth knew that the landscape was every bit as wild and rugged as the tales her Gram had told. Looking out over the bleak countryside, she chewed her lower lip, considering her options.

Colin was convinced that nothing could change his fate. But she refused to stand idly by while he went to certain death. There had to be a way to intervene in Darda’s hateful curse.

A search of the room found little to help. Beth’s gaze was arrested by the ancient sword and knife hanging above the mantel. Standing on a settee, she was able to reach the sword, but when she tried to remove it, she realized that it probably weighed more than she. That left her no choice but to help herself to the knife, which she tucked into the pocket of her nightdress.

She had no plan in mind, except to find Colin. With that thought playing through her head, she snatched up a coarse woolen cloak and opened the door to her chambers before racing headlong down the stairs.

Once outside, she pulled the cloak over her and hiked the skirts of the ridiculous nightdress as she started walking, keeping the high peak in the distance clearly in her line of vision.

Maybe she really was crazy, she thought. What other explanation could there possibly be that would have her sneaking away in the middle of the night, crossing the wild, dangerous Highlands barefoot, and hoping to stop a dangerous hunter from killing the fictional Beast of the Highlands?

As if the wind blowing across the countryside wasn’t enough, Beth’s bare feet kept sliding over damp moss and slippery rocks, making her feel as unbalanced as many at Stag’s Head Lodge believed her to be.

The climb to the peak seemed an impossible task. The howling wind was threatening to blow her away. Each lightning bolt, each boom of thunder, had her questioning her sanity. Still, she refused to turn back.

She scrambled from rock to rock, low branch to low branch, and found herself struggling for every breath. She’d never dreamed the climb to the top of these Highland peaks would be so daunting.

At the keening of the wind, the sky turned so dark, she looked up and saw the moon covered by a wall of thick, dark clouds. Perhaps she should be grateful for the wind and the clouds. Without them, she would have been as visible as if she were carrying a lantern.

As she came up over a rise, a sudden flash of lightning gave her a clear view of the scene before her.

A great stag stood on a shelf of rock, head high, standing as still as a statue.

Seeing a slight movement to one side, Beth caught sight of a man wearing a hooded cloak. In the blink of an eye he lifted his hands. Another flash of lightning showed an archer’s bow in one hand, an arrow in the other.

As he took aim, she shouted, “Behind you!”

The night went dark, and she feared her words had been snatched away by the wicked wind. Straining, she thought she heard the flight of the arrow as it sang through the air. In the same instant the stag leapt down from the rock.

Instead of hitting the stag’s throat, as intended, the arrow landed in the moving animal’s side.

With a cry the great beast staggered and fought, rearing up on its hind legs before dropping to the ground, writhing in pain.

With a muttered oath at his bad timing, the man stepped out of his place of concealment. Following behind him was a woman dressed in an elegant fur-lined cloak.

The two headed toward the animal, prepared to finish the deed. In the man’s hand was a sword. In the woman’s hand, the razor-sharp blade of a knife glinted in the moonlight.

“No!” With a look of absolute horror, Beth raced across the distance that separated them and knelt beside the wounded creature.

With a look of surprise, the man halted for a moment.

Edwina took the lead and started forward. “Move away, woman, before you join the beast in death.”

“You think to kill us both so no one will know the evil thing you did here?” Beth got to her feet and faced the man and woman.

“No, you fool,” Ian shouted. “The Beast will take care of that for us. Before he dies, his antlers will rip you to shreds. If that isn’t enough, those great hooves will crush you.”

“Then you’ll have your wish, won’t you? The only witness to your cruel deed will be eliminated.” Beth fixed them both with a look of fury. “What happened to the hunter you paid to do this evil thing?”