Chapter 6
Over The Sea To Skye
The trip to Skye pasted uneventfully. Perpetual thunderclouds loom in the sky, but the threatened storm never broke. By the time they past Drumgask, the halfway point between Edinbrugh and Kyle of Lochalsh, Lori and Michael were sound alseep. With Shannon snoring like some angry god about to reign down thunder. When they finally made Kyle of Lochalsh--a small fishing villiage with a population of some 550 souls--most of the group was out cold. At 2:30 in the morning, the air was freezing. Five minutes out in it could wake even the dead.
"Wake up, everybody." Kyle yelled to the back. Sharon was asleep in the bucket seat across from him. "We're there."
Her eyes flickered open from the glare of the street light. It was night, she knew it was. There was no sun, but her natural low-light vision helped her along. Sharon stretched considerably.
"There?" Someone mumbled, almost slurred. "Where's there?" It sounded a lot like Shannon, but Kyle couldn't be sure if it was or not.
Remy peered through the windsheild and saw Kyle had parked the hovertruck across from a small motel. The rooms looked inviting even though Remy could only see the doors. "Good thinking, shorty." A fairly heavy mist was also beginning to settle on things. Remy turned back to Lori whom still had the gym bag slung around her by the strap. Unconciously he switched his cybereyes over to thermographic imaging. "Lori, hand me some of that money." Lori snorted abruptly and fell back into timeless slumber. "And Shannon." The troll was awake. "Stash the the stuff so no unlucky bystander gets a good look inside the window and sees it."
Shannon nodded and began putting the weapons out of plain view.
"Lori?" Remy looked at her. Her twenty-year-old body was sprawled out on one of the benches in the back of the hovertruck. She breathed lightly. Michael was out cold in a bucket seat just to Remy's left and a few feet back. Fulcrum was sitting plainly in the bucket seat across from him. Lori, it seemed, had used the troll as a pillow. Shannon didn't complain. Not too much anyway.
Sharon pushed away some of her long hair from her eyes. "Looks like she's alseep, Remy." She reached for her credstick. "I'll pay for some rooms." She added as she reached for the door.
Remy grabbed her hand before she could step outside. "No, Sharon, no credsticks. They're traceable. To much for my comfort." He tapped Michael on the bill of his cap that was concealing his eyes. Michael moved groggy and his reactions were slow.
Finally he managed to slur out a singal word. "What?!"
Not loud enough to wake Lori. Kyle and Shannon opened the doors and stepped out into the freezing air. A cold rush of wind forced the air inside the truck.
Remy instructed Michael. "Get one of those wads of notes from Lori's bag."
Michael nodded and moved slowly for the bag. He removed the money without even a sound of the zipper opening and closing on the bag. Not even shifting the weight of the cyberdeck inside.
"Weapons, Remy?" Fulcrum wondered.
Remy thought about, then checked his Predator II in the concealed holster on his thigh under his lined coat. "Not yet. We'll go inside and get some rooms. You can stay here with Lori and Michaal. We won't be long."
The second Remy stepped outside with Sharon, he regretted it. The air was too cool for his comfort and his adjusting cybereyes could only delete part of the mist that cloaked the street. Silently, he stirred; motioning for Shannon to hang around the truck and Kyle to follow him and Sharon inside. Together, the three of them stepped into a rustic lobby. Behind a desk a bulky female desk jock watched a small trid screen on the table. Kyle of Lochalsh must something for the tourists. The lady hardly ever took her eyes off that screen when Remy requested a room and parking.
Remy found out that individual rooms would be expensive. The weapons and gear and rental had already taken up a large portion of the team's cashflow. If Michael did not find that score at the flat, they'd be in serious money trouble by now. Sharon reminded Remy that the team could double up rooms. They would have to double up anyway because there weren't very many free spaces left. Plus parking for the hovertruck. He found out that would run them thirty-five pounds alone. Seven people per nights would add up to about seven-hundred pounds. Fortunatly that price included breakfast and supper. That was seven-hundred and thirty-five pounds a night. Remy decided that he couldn't afford to stay long here at this motel, but it was still relatively cheap. Plus they had just six days left before they would have to start paying daily for their rented vehicle. They could make the trip to the Isle of Skye in the morning via ferry. Remy eventually obtained four rooms of which he would split among each of them. Shannon, being the largest of the group, would get a room by himself. Besides, who wants to sleep in a room that's got a snoring troll in it?
Sharon could decided who she should bunk with. Knowing that if she chose to stay with Fulcrum, Remy would say something unpleasent about it. On the other hand, she didn't know how Remy would react if she decided to stay with him. Sharon settled on Kyle since he was conisdered nuetral in the matter. Lori and Michael had already decided they where going to stay in one room. That left Remy with Fulcrum. For some reason, Remy didn't feel comfortable with the layout.
Before everyone went to their rooms for some sleep, Remy Corllien made certian that each of them had some type of firearm with them incase the police had gotten too close to them. Though he doubted the fuzz would because they had made it out of Edinbrugh now. Remy made sure everyone got a wad of pound notes of about 280 pounds of currency to spend on rooms and bribes, too. Kyle kept his concealable Ultra-Power with him. Sharon took a Manhunter and a little Slander SMG from the truck before Kyle parked it carefully out of sight. Shannon removed another Manhunter and a Smartgun with him. Lori and Michael both laid their claim to a pistol and a SMG. Fulcrum snatched a rather light Viper and tucked it away under his pillow for the night.
Michael fiddled with the sleek throwing knife as he lay in bed. The room had a lot of wood paneling and old pictures hanging on the walls. Even a trid and telecom. Most motels didn't have those devices standard. Must be tourist season. He looked at the floor where Lori had placed her Fichetti between the matress of her bed. Below rested his Sandler. What had happened? The group was now running for Skye and had no other leads. If they didn't turn up something here, where could they go. A feeling of hopelessness set in. In truth, Michael was lost in the dark. He didn't know where to go or who to turn to. This was Scotland, not Seattle. He didn't know anyone here. That was probably the least of Michael's worries, though. Surely Remy would lead them out of this mess. He knew what to do, didn't he? Everyone had put their trust in Remy Corllien to get them through. That was Remy's job. Just as Kyle's was to get them away from Edinbrugh and take everyone from point A to point B. Just as Fulcrum's and Sharon's job was to keep everyone safe from any kind of magical threats. Or Lori, whose job was to deck the Matrix. Shannon who simply had to shoot everything. What was Michael's job? All he ever did was break into things. That and pick the occasinal pocket. Why was he here? Had living in Seattle done this to him or was it by his own choice? Michael had to admit, though, he was a born thief and would always be a thief. He liked the work and would always remain a part of it. No matter what changed in his life, or what he discovered about himself.
Fulcrum found his mind wondering back to the flat and Cameron. It was such an inhuman way to die. Much like his family's. He hated losing them, they were all he had and now they are gone. It has been nearly a year and Fulcrum still could not forget his wife. She was mundane, but he didn't care. Love was what was important at the time. And they had been happy for nearly eight years before she died. Tess was her name. Actually it was short for Tessalute. Slightly foriegn. In the past, her face was so clear to Fulcrum. He could remember every detail. Even down to the color of her eyes and the shade of her skin. Now, that once clear picture of his beloved Tess had dulled. He found increasingly more difficult to remember what she looked like before she died. That was one of the reasons Fulcrum saw that he had to get out of Azltan. Away from his memories that he and Tess had there together. He devoted the rest of his life to learning his magic. Learning the eagle. That was all that mattered to him now. He turned himself off to the outside world. Forgot about what he owed, as a shaman, to it. When he came across Sharon in Tir Tiarngar, he was amazed at how much the two of them were alike. Even though one was hermatic and the other was shamanic. To Fulcrum the two of them seemed kindred spirits finally finding each other. There was someone who had faced the same thing that Fulcrum had and was now running from the passed and it reminded the both of them of.
Kyle was much too tired to care about anything but sleep. It had been a long drive even for him. He snored loudly even for his squat size. He couldn't help but wonder why Sharon had chosen to stay with him instead of Remy or Fulcrum. Surely it wasn't because of his sparkle of a personality. In the end, he thought that Sharon considered him as a friend that she could trust. One that was not interested in magic. Sort of a blocker from the rest of the world that she had to deal with. Kyle was that wall that stood with her. Yet he had only known Sharon for maybe around six months. He had heard Remy occasionally speak of her. The drawf had always treated her with respect. The obvious had to be admitted, though, the two of them were opposites in life.
Shannon never really cared about the future, himself, personally. Though fairly heavily cybered, Shannon was massive even for a troll. He always took things simply and in a laid back fashion one day at a time. For a while, he was loyal to no one. The only people he cared about where his family. A large family, orgionally from the Confederate States, were scattered across the North American continent. There was a time, however, when their lives were threatened and there was nothing Shannon could do but sit back and watch everyone he had ever care for die. But there was someone there. Remy Corllien. He had come through and helped the family of metatypes when no other human would. Remy didn't care wether the people he was helping were trolls, orks, or even a sea monkey for crying out loud. Shannon admired that quality in Remy. The sort of easy going, noble, and often naive human. The pair naturally developed into best friends and Remy, eventually, became welcome in Shannon's family.
Lori tossed and turned in the bed. She didn't mean to be so restless. She probably wouldn't have been if she had slept so long on the way to the small village. Maybe the noise she was making wouldn't wake up Michael. Michael? In a way he was unique that she couldn't describe. There was something about him that everybody else on the streets in Seattle feared, but he'd yet to tell anyone what it was. Even go-gangs respected him. Surely Michael would have had to be in one at some time or another. But it wasn't that. The gangs more or less were warely of him than anything else. When she hit the streets for the first time, she had no where to turn to. If not for Michael, she would have never made it on her own. Now look at the situation that they were in. Following Remy's whim as a pack of dogs would the proverbial fox. Had they all put such blind trust in him? Lori had become more hesitant ever since Edinbrugh. Normally, she trusted Remy's leadership and common sense. She knew that nothing that Remy could have done would have prevented Cameron's death. That must mean that there was some reason for all this to happen for Lori was a firm believer in destiny seeks you out first. Not vice versa. So Cameron's death put them out in the country where none of them had ever been before in a place alien to them. All searching for a mysterious elf, Quicksilver, in the hope of finding him or at least what he left behind to be found.
Sharon slept soundly, in the process, the pondered over questions that kept coming up in her mind. She and Remy had once been serious about each other. Time has a habit of changing things, though. In a way, he was always shallow. Sharon saw Fulcrum as only a friend now. Remy saw Fulcrum as competition. At least, she thought he did, but Sharon wanted Remy to turn to as a friend as well as an ex-lover. They once had good times together. Who is to say if they will again. Only the future knows what it will be. Some poeple waste a lifetime waiting for something to happen. To the point that they don't even know when their chance is upon them. So what did her current situation have to do with Sharon's future? Obviously she had to make a choice instead of always sticking to the middle ground.
Remy was sound. The others looked to him for leadership. He was known for his coolness and quick thinking. He tried to be fair and force the others to use their individual talents to their fullest. Sharon and Fulcurm always distracted him. For Remy could remember a time when Sharon would have accepted an offer of sharing a room without a second thought. He had no choice on leaving her in Portland. At the time, his own life was at stake, knowing full well that if he hung around with Sharon she too could get hurt. It was for the best. In the past few months the two of them had grown closer together. Even with Fulcrum's presence. Remy never knew what kind--if any--a relationship the two Awakened beings had. One was elven and the human. One was a mage and the other a shaman. Yet there was something there that linked them. Sharon didn't stay with Fulcrum, but instead she chose Kyle. Sharon did not seem interested with Fulcrum even when Remy caught up with her again. It was as if she wasn't as certain of herself had she normally had been. Sharon wasn't just ready yet to open up to him, but a time would come. There is a time for all things. A destiny.
The next morning started a very busy day. The breakfast was exceptional. Smoked herrings, oatmeal cakes, real salted bacon, fresh eggss, and lashings of cold toast. A welcomed change from the so called synthetic food found in Seattle. The bacon was wonderfully prepared and fit for the king. It had been a long time since any of them could remember having real bacon or eggs that wasn't synthetic. Sharon and Lori lead out a shopping spree to pick up some of the village's local foods and supplies. They even purchased a few native clothes so the team could blend into a crowd. Later in the day Remy lead everybody to a ferry that would take them to the to the Isle of Skye. The trip itself was glorious. Peppered with the natural beauty of the landscape and restored forests of the land. There was a solid mist that stretched most of the coastline of the mainland. The water was so perfectly clear and fresh that it was a mirror of the sky above it. Some people had trouble telling where one sky ended and the other begian. On the Skye there is a castle that sits on a sickle line of shamanic power. The castle is a massive, moss covered structure called Castle Dunvegan. It serves as a home for the druids of the island. Dunvegan stands on a promontory looking sea, and tourists never set foot inside. At the foot of the promontory stands a stone circle some forty feet in diameter set with 30 stones each between five and ten feet high. As the shadowrunners disembark from the coach ride, Fulcrum noticed seven druids emerging from the castle and make their way toward the circle.
Fulcrum studied them intently. Making sure he knew everything he could about them. He especially eyed one of them, an elf, that looked to be the leader. Fulcrum could guess that the elf was anchored to the Eagle totem, just as he was. He possed a golden-sickle focus.
Remy watched as the shamans begian moving about in a hurried fashion as if expecting something to happen. This series of actions by the druids made Remy a little uncomfortable. This was understandable, of course, for a hardened samurai. "What are they doing?"
Sharon replied. "I'm not real sure with druids, Remy, but I'd say they are getting ready to perform some kind of ceremony."
Remy grimaced. "Now?"
"No, I doubt it. If they do, it will be nothing of any serious magic being worked."
Fulcrum stood to offer additional information. He felt that it would make Remy a little more comfortable. "The druids are shamans. Scot druids form loosely organized groups." Fulcrum pointed at the gray-robed elf he had spotted earlier. "But that elf seems to be their leader. What they are planning to perform is a ceremony. They celebrate it inside the circle." He gestured. "It's nothing of any real magical, as Sharon said."
So it is a show. Nothing more than dramatic gestures and recitations, though. The tourists clap and applause at the sight. Then give money in a small bowl placed near a fence.
Remy turned to Sharon as the druids were finishing. "We need to talk to them, Sharon."
"I would not suggest you lieing about anything." Sharon advised. "The may be druids, but they are also shamans. You must be completely truthful with them. There must be no fear or doubt in you mind. Otherwise they will seek it out. If they find it, you'll never learn nothing."
Remy nodded.
When the druids finished their little spectical, they were immediately prepared to return to the castle. Remy located the elf that Fulcrum had said was the leader and called out to him. The elf only waved him away with a weary expression. Remy was insulted, but he tried again, this time, however, he took a few steps closer to the elf.
Again the elf, one Finniaen MacNaughton, waved them away. Then he turned his attentions to Fulcrum. He seemed to be more focused on him and Sharon and looked away from Kyle and Shannon. It wasn't in a manner of insult since he didn't exactly give them a cold shoulder. Finniaen moved closer to Fulcrum, as if he was expecting Fulcrum to say something. Remy had noticed whom the elf was concentrating on.
Lori soon got bored with the eriee silence and spoke in Fulcrum's place. She stood slightly behind Fulcrum, in his shadow. "Uhm...nice show." She commented. "I liked it."
Finniaen kept his eyes pasted on Fulcrum. "Don't waste my time, what do you want?"
Remy adjusted his stance and motioned with his hands. "Do you know a druid named Fiona?"
Finniaen directed his reply to Fulcrum. It was as if Remy was a ghost. Remy didn't much like the idea of being ignored. "Why do you want to see her?"
This time Fulcrum did the talking. "She knows a someone by the name of Quicksilver, does she not? We need to speak with her concerning matters about him. This is very important, as I am sure you can understand."
Finniaen took a cold stare for them as he looked over his shoulder toward the castle. "Wait here." He instructed, then walked off toward Dunvegan.
Shannon grunted. "Talkitive fellow, isn't he?"
"I think it went well." Sharon told Remy.
Remy sighed. "Maybe if he'd give more attention to who was saying something to him. He deaf or something?" Remy looked at Fulcrum and Sharon. Then simled. "Yeah, I know. Just making sure you knew."
"Knew what?" Michael questioned.
"That he was addressing Sharon and Fulcrum as magically actives mages only." Remy spared a second look at Fulcrum. "And I can guess, with druids also being shamans from what I understand, that the elf was an Eagle. Am I right?"
"Yes." Fulcrum replied.
That is all of this story. It is incomplete. Try going back to the Fiction Index and find something else. Thoughts, rants, comments? Email me and tell what you thought about it.