Chapter Text
Brianna needed to get out of the house and just… away. She couldn’t stand to look at her mother just then and when she’d turned to Roger she’d been disappointed by what she found there. She’d thought they understood one another, thought he’d be on her side – the reasonable side.
But there had been something in his face as he looked at Claire Randall. If not outright belief in the ridiculous story she’d concocted to cover up an affair, then he’d at least been looking at her mother like he wanted to believe her.
And that was the last thing Brianna wanted right then.
It was Roger’s car. She’d seen him drop the keys in a bowl on the counter when they’d arrived. She looked at the gauge and saw there was a little less than half a tank left. She’d be good for a while. Not that she knew where she was going to go. It just had to be away – and preferably somewhere she could scream where no one would call the police.
Taking Roger’s car would slow them down if they tried to follow her.
Not if. When.
She didn’t mean to make it easy for them to find her.
As soon as she reached the main road, she headed in a direction that would take her away from town and began repeating aloud, “Left side of the road, left side of the road.”
The need to focus on fighting her American instincts and keep from drifting to the other lane actually helped her to calm down. A little.
She slammed on the brakes when she saw the sign, wincing when a horn blared behind her and another car flew past.
But then she was along and the rage returned. Craigh na dun. It was absurd that anyone could believe what her mother had said. It was absurd that the very thought of seeing the place was twisting her stomach into knots.
Gritting her teeth, Brianna put the car back in gear and sped in the direction of the signs. She would see these stones for herself if only to quell that feeling in her stomach, to be able to return to her mother and Roger and give them another telling off.
It was falling dark as Brianna reached the bottom of the hill and she could just make out the moon peeking between the low tree branches and the standing stones. The bravado of the drive shrank at the eerie sight.
But there was a stubborn streak that kept her feet moving toward the stones.
Her ears began to ring and her head to spin as she reached the center of the circle and touched the largest stone.
Pain. In her hand and arm and head. The buzzing in her ears became a scream and it was only as she felt her throat ache she realized she was the one who was screaming.
Her last thought before passing out was that her mother’s description of it all had fallen woefully short.
She wanted to throw up from fear as much as the nausea in her belly and the ringing headache that threatened to send her back under as soon as she tried to sit up.
Brianna scrambled backward, away from the stone, to the edge of the circle. The moon still shone in the sky and the stars seemed brighter too.
A few deep breaths helped to steady her enough to get to her feet. She brushed away grass and dirt that clung to the corduroy of her skirt.
Turning on her heel, she carefully made her way down the side of the hill in the direction where she’d left the car. With every step she scolded herself for being ridiculous and gullible enough to have let her mother’s tales affect her in such a way. With every step the buzzing and nausea faded and it was easier to tell herself that she had imagined the whole thing.
She’d taken too many steps. She should have reached Roger’s car by now or at least the solidity of the paved road.
Brianna turned around, peering into the darkness. Maybe she’d gotten herself turned around and had come down the wrong side of the hill. Making a quarter turn and referencing the gentle incline of the hill, she did her best to circle the hilltop.
It only made her feel more lost. She would have to wait until it grew lighter to complete her investigation of the hillside. In the meantime, she was getting cold and any chance of a blanket or additional protection from the elements was in the impossible-to-locate-in-the-dark car. (Why did Roger have to own a brown car? Why couldn’t it have been white and reflective?)
She couldn’t just lie down in the open. Looking around, she saw a faint light in the distance and made her way toward it. It didn’t appear to be moving, so not a car. It was dim, muted, so maybe a house with its curtains closed. But she didn’t think there were any houses this close to Craigh na Dun. She hadn’t noticed any as she passed to get there, anyway, but she was hardly an expert on the area and who lived there or where. She just needed someone who could loan her a flashlight or who had a telephone she could use (worrying her mother and Roger a little was one thing but she couldn’t let them go the whole night wondering where she’d gone).
Drawing nearer, Brianna was confused. It wasn’t a house – it would barely qualify as a shack. There was no door – well, no door left but old fashioned hinges clung to the frame to show there had been a door at one time. The roof appeared to have partially caved in but on the opposite side from where a short chimney stuck out with a faint trail of smoke rising from it.
Someone must be inside if a fire was lit but was it safe to casually announce her presence?
“Hello?” she called softly, approaching slowly now. “Anybody home? I uh… I’ve gotten myself a bit lost and can’t find the car in the dark – accidentally locked my flash – my torch inside. Do you have one you might… let me… borrow?”
There had been no sound, no sign of movement as she reached the door and decided to poke her head inside.
A low fire burned in a hearth that looked like it might collapse in on itself at any moment.
A figure was curled on its side on the dirt floor in front of the hearth. It was a boy – probably only a few years younger than herself. Maybe this was some play fort or campsite for him.
Brianna inched closer to the sleeping boy. “Hey… you,” she hissed but he didn’t stir. She gently nudged him with the toe of her boot.
Startled awake and confused, the boy rolled toward her with a threatening cry and a dagger in his hand, apparently ready to stab her.
“Whoa!” Brianna exclaimed, jumping back. “I don’t want trouble,” she promised. “Just looking for a little help is all.”
The boy calmed and relaxed as he woke further and realized he wasn’t actually being attacked.
“Ye scared the piss right out of me,” he told her, returning the dagger to a safe and concealed place in his belt.
“Who are you?” Brianna asked, stepping forward as the boy got to his feet.
“Ian Murray, ma’am,” he said, smiling and inclining his head toward her. “And what should I call you ?”
“Brianna, but you can call me Bree.”
Claire hadn’t gone to bed and so Roger hadn’t either (though, he had dozed off and on in his chair by the fire). She spend most of the night staring out the window, watching for any sign of Brianna’s return.
Around five, the light finally beginning to show signs of returning, Roger rose from the chair and stretched, back cracking as he yawned. He went to the kitchen to make tea and toast, returning with a simple tray to try and get Claire to eat something.
“She couldna have gotten far on thwart was left in that tank,” he explained. Brianna didn’t know how quickly the needle could drop from half a tank to empty. “It’s likely she ran out of petrol, pulled over and spent the night in the back. She’ll have to walk a ways to a phone or wait till someone comes along as can give her a ride.” He offered Claire a steaming cup.
She took it, forcing a smile and nod of thanks before blowing on it but neglecting to take a sip.
“I want to believe you, Roger, but I’m afraid Bree is very much her father’s daughter… both of them. That display of temper was all Jamie… the running away afterward…”
“That ye think she learned from Frank?” Roger suggested.
With a sigh and another nod, Claire admitted, “Unfortunately, yes. And the last time we had a fight and he stormed off into the night, he was killed in a car accident.”
Roger felt his own teacup tremble in his hands at the thought. He set it down carefully as he apologized to Claire. “Christ, I hadna thought – I’m so sorry. If I’d realized – I should ha’ called someone to help and we could ha’ been searching for her through the night.”
Claire shook her head. “No, I’m sure she’s fine, like you said. Going after her might have only made matters worse anyhow. Frasers need to wear out their tempers a bit before you stand a chance of getting through to them.” At last she lifted her cup and took a sip of tea, closing her eyes as she swallowed and visibly willed herself to relax.
“Well, if she doesna return by lunch and hasna phoned, I’ll see if I can borrow Fiona’s car and you and I can look for her,” Roger promised. “Like I said, she couldna ha’ gone too far.”
As Claire smiled her thanks again, the telephone rang. Claire moved to get it before recalling it wasn’t her house and deferring to Roger.
He moved quickly and, expecting to hear Brianna on the other end, he answered, “Speak of the devil.”
“Roger?” Fiona’s voice replied.
Roger covered the receiver long enough to whisper to Claire, “Wrong devil.”
“Aye, I’m here,” he said louder to Fiona. “Sorry, it’s just… early.”
“Aye, tis and I wouldna have called so early – I’m a bit relieved ye answered at all. I was afraid… but ye’re there.”
“Aye, why would a not be?”
“Oh… well… Ye mayna ken but – ye see, my gran was part of a… a group. They’re… caretakers, ye might say. And since she passed, I took her place in the group.”
“Caretakers of what?”
“The standing circle at Craigh na Dun,” Fiona explained.
Roger felt himself growing colder, thought he must be paler from the step Claire took towards him.
“We take it in turns to visit them and see any rubbish is cleared up, that they’ve no been defaced and the like,” Fiona went on at a nervous clip.
Everything around Roger seemed to be slowing, narrowing to a point as his gaze fixed on Claire.
“Anyhow, I had a call this morning from… another member of the group. They said yer car had been found abandoned near the stones. I worried something might have happened to ye, but–”
“Brianna,” Roger managed to murmur.
“Brianna Randall?” Fiona asked.
“Brianna borrowed my car last night,” he explained. “She didna come home.”
“Roger, what’s happened?” Claire asked, forcefully.