Tuesday Tales: From the Word MEET

As the song says, the heat is on. Welcome to this week’s episode of Tuesday Tales. I’m continuing with Listen to the Stones. In this week’s post, I’m going to backtrack to an earlier point in the story when Marina was visiting the Edinburgh vaults. Remember those two hours she thinks she lost? She didn’t lose them, but it isn’t time for her to recall them just yet.

Mab pulled her along the cobblestone hallway, deeper and deeper into the warren of passageways and vaults. The air grew colder and damper, the scent of mildew stronger. She shivered.

The woman stopped so abruptly, that Marina almost knocked her over.

“Here we are,” Mab held her hand as she spoke into the darkness. “I’ve brought her to you as requested.” She turned to her. “It was a pleasure to meet you, my lady. No doubt we’ll meet again someday. I’ll leave you now.”

“Leave me?” Marina screeched. “Here? Alone?”

She would never be able to find her way back on her own.

The small woman smiled, “You aren’t alone. It’ll be fine. Raven knows what to do.”

Had she fallen for a scam? Would someone come and rob her or worse? Kill her and leave her body down here to rot or feed the rats? Was it possible that whoever wanted Fraser Hall had arranged for her to disappear here, paving the way for him to acquire the land?

Before she could say anything, Mab released her hand, turned, and walked away, leaving Marina alone in the room devoid of light.

“Don’t go,” she cried, but within seconds, all traces of the light the woman carried vanished.

“You’re never alone, Marina Fraser.”

She jumped at her name. “Who said that?”

“I did. I am Raven, the master’s servant.”

A red candle flickered on, the only light in the darkness, but Marina couldn’t see anyone or anything else.

“Show yourself and tell me what you want,” she demanded, her voice trembling.

If that candle went out, she was going to scream bloody murder. Would anyone hear her if she did? She was in the bowels of some kind of catacombs.

“I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

The voice laughed. “We all die, my lady, some sooner than others.”

That wasn’t very comforting.

“Don’t be afraid, my lady. I’m simply going to tell you a story—your story. You used to enjoy sitting with your grandmother as she read to you from a book of imaginative folktales. But not all of the tales are fanciful myths and legends. Many are steeped in truth, and it’s those fables that teach us powerful lessons, teachings we would be wise not to forget, or repeat.”

“My story? How can you know my story? We’ve never met,” Marina argued, growing bolder. No matter what was going to happen, she wouldn’t give up without a fight.

That’s it. Come back next week for more. Don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.