Page 36 of The Fae's Gamble

As they got to St. Andrews, the closest city to Dunino Den, the tension increased in the car for an entirely different reason. They were nervous—everything was riding on them being able to catch a bean-nighe, if they even saw one.

“Let’s go over the plan.” Calum navigated through the St. Andrews city streets. They had gone over the plan a hundred times, but Fern knew he needed to hear it to feel better.

“Once we get down to Dunino Den, I’ll sit near the water’s edge and pretend to wash clothes,” Fern pointed to the bag of laundry in the backseat, “which should entice a washer woman spirit. If she makes an appearance and the lore is correct, she’ll begin washing clothes alongside me. You’ll come out of hiding, and if you snatch the clothes away from the bean-nighe, then she’ll have to answer your question.”

“We’ll see one.” Calum was deadly sure of that, even if Fern wasn’t. The last of the sun was disappearing behind the horizon as they pulled into a parking lot.

Fern surveyed their surroundings. “Do you want to tell me why we’re at an ancient-looking church?”

They both stepped out of the vehicle, and an eerie sense of calm came over her. There was no one around, and the church’s parking lot was empty except for the Aston Martin. She tossed the bag of laundry over her shoulder and took a deep breath to steady herself.

Calum started walking towards the church. “This is the Dunino Parish Church. Dunino Den is in the woods behind it.”

“Of course it is,” Fern fought the urge to roll her eyes, “because the ancient druid worship site has to be in the woods behind a creepy old church.”

“’Tis the Christian way. Find something pagan and claim it for your own.”

“Calum, your cane,” Fern stopped and realized he must have forgotten it in the car. She turned around to get it for him.

“No need,” he shook his head and kept walking, “I’m stronger in the woods.”

A million questions popped into Fern’s head about fae magic and the proximity to nature, but she held her tongue.

The church was a relatively small building, made of grey brick with four large windows along its side. There was a steeple at the far end, a tiny, weathered cross standing on the top of it. One corner was entirely covered in ivy, and there was a scattering of gravestones around the lawn. Fern shuddered.

Calum took a step closer to her. “It’s going to be okay, Fern.” His voice was coaxing. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She tried to lighten the moment. “Are you going to save me from the church? Or do you mean the bean-nighe?”

“I’m serious.” Calum stopped walking and held out his hand, grabbing hold of Fern’s arm and forcing her to look at him. Her breath caught in her throat at the intense sincerity on his face.

No one had ever looked at her how Calum Welsh did.

“I mean it,” he repeated himself. “You’re safe when you’re with me.”

“I know,” Fern answered automatically and was surprised at how much she believed it. She just knew that the safest place for her was next to Calum.

You can think through why that is another time. Preferably with your therapist.

Fern offered him a small smile. Calum squeezed her arm in a gentle, reassuring way, and walked past the church’s entrance. She followed him down a sloping hill, through more rows of gravestones, until they came to the wood’s edge.

Calum turned to face her, but Fern didn’t recognize him.

The proximity to the forest changed Calum. It was like looking at a clear image for the first time. She couldn’t describe it exactly, but he seemed to stand taller. There was a sharpness to his features that hadn’t been there before, and she could swear that the tips of his ears were elongated. His eyes were fully gold, and he stared ahead at the forest, unblinking.

“Calum?” she whispered, reaching out a hand towards him. Calum sprung back to life and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are you okay? If you don’t want to do this—”

“I’m all right. I’m all right.” He looked at Fern, and his voice dropped an octave. When he spoke, he was almost growling. “Listen to me. When we’re in there, you need to do exactly as I say. I don’t care if it makes little sense to you. If I tell you to do something, you do it. No questions asked.”

The authority in his tone sucked the air out of Fern. Her eyes went wide, and she could only nod in response.

“I need to hear you say it,” Calum pressed. “Out loud.”

“I’ll obey you.” Fern couldn’t decode his expression, but she followed him as he ambled into the woods.

It was a short walk to Dunino’s Den. The site comprised two large crags with a valley between them, and both of the cliff faces had runes carved into the rock. The moonlight illuminated the holy site, causing an eerie glow.

Once they stepped out between the crags, Fern almost dropped to her knees as her face contorted in pain.