It was awkward. Well, for Skye anyway. Every time Damon looked at her, a cold shiver ran down her spine. She was not comfortable with him being here. Why couldn't he have just told them everything there!? It would have made it much easier on her if he had, that way he wouldn't need to be here. She now always on edge, making sure she watched his every move, trying to figure out his real motive; she knew it wasn't just to tell them stories that may or may not help.
It had been two days since their visit to his house, and they were still in the same spot as they had been for a few days now. It was practically killing Skye. She wanted to end this and as quickly as possible. Her friends were being pulled into danger, because of her. Well, not really because of her, just a very distant relative who in her mind, lost his. In all her seventeen years, she did not expect something that happened ten thousand years ago to come back and ruin her life. Unexplainable powers, crazy ancestors and a damned... Thing, which is linked to her because of both. Her life had changed drastically in just under a week and she hated it.
Damon was sitting round a burning orange fire that had been lite and was looking at each teen in turn as he spoke. They had all decided that early the next morning, they would finally head out towards Scotland and towards their final destination, Dragon Hills. To say that all the teens were over the moon about this would be an exaggeration, and a huge one. They wouldn't let each other know, but inside each of them spent their nights before sleep overpowered them, different scenarios that may happen would run through their mind, and they never ended well.
One a happier note, everyone was glad that Fred hadn't gone through what happened at the shop again, but once again, no-one told the other that, fearing that it would jinx it and it would happen again but worse. So far, Damon hadn't asked what had happened, he was just interested in getting there and seeing what happened. Right now, while the fire danced and the birds in the trees sang, Damon was explaining how they were to get to Dragon Hills.
"I think we might be able to apperate to the Scottish Border and to ensure we land in the same place and suggest we do side-along apperation. From there, we go on foot. It might be easier to do that anyway. As we get closer to Dragon Hills, Skye will be able to feel the dragons, hear them. So, after a while, she will be our guide. But, remember she cannot enter a certain part of the hills! She might be drawn to it, I don't know entirely, but if she acts weird and constantly wants to go somewhere, we must keep her away!"
Everyone nodded, but Skye was still feeling awkward. It had been like this since he had come with them, her friends were always asking him questions about her and he would reply with answers that she had heard Sahara give to him whenever he asked about her. Only now though, did she understand his fascination with her. She shuddered. She still couldn't believe her ancestor had been friends with one of his. Was this friend of Gabriel's as cold as Damon? Was she really like Gabriel? All these questions haunted her mind, and no-one had the answer to it!
"Skye?" George's voice rang through her mind, but it didn't occur to her that he was waiting for a response. Instead her mind continued asking her questions, questions that she didn't know the answer to, questions that to some extent, frightened her. "Skye!?" Her name was louder this time, but once again it didn't register. That was until a hand was placed on her shoulder and she jumped and turned to look at the person who was now touching her.
When she turned, she saw a very confused, and worried face of Roxy. "Did you hear any of that?"
Skye shook her head slowly. They were talking to her? Roxy shook her head and then explained what had been said. While she was off in her own little world, they had all agreed that during nights, they would each take turns on shift. Damon was worried that whatever called to Fred might have an army, people that will do anything to make sure Fred is alone so that no-one can stop him from going there alone. They also told her that once they were there, they would pair up during the night shifts as it would be an idiotic idea to leave Fred or Skye in a place where they might be tempted to follow what ever is drawing them in.
Skye nodded, and then without warning, yawned. Her eyelids were beginning to feel very heavy and she just wanted to sleep. Soon, everyone was yawning, even Damon and so, they all slipped into the tent, and closed their eyes, letting sleep hold them in a state of unconsciousness until the morning light tore them away from the land of dreams.
Morning came quickly and before they knew it, the tent was being pulled down and thrown into the charmed bag, the fire was put out after burning all through the night and they were finally ready to leave. The five had decided that Damon was going to be the one to apperate as he was the eldest and had probably traveled across Britain more times than they had entered a muggle London. Everyone held onto Damon's arm; Skye a little more reluctantly, but she did and she ignored the cold chill that swept through her body the moment her hand touched him. She was sure he felt it too, for as soon as she made contact, he stiffened and gave a side-ward glance to her.
This was it. Skye took a deep breath, they were finally going. Everyone was extremely nervous, even Damon would you believe. Skye had her eyes closed, and she was waiting for that uncomfortable tugging feeling on her insides and the faint 'pop' that she was getting so used to these days. It took a while for it to come, but when it did, her grip on Damon's arm tightened, sending her blood flow into a frozen stillness.
As soon as they hit land once again, she dropped her arms and sighed in pleasure as warmth seeped into her blood stream. It was refreshing and soothing and she was happy that she no longer felt as though she had been dragged through inches of snow.
Back at their old camp sight, someone walked in. They were covered in dirt and looked as though they had been walking for miles. Lifting their head into the air, they breathed in through the nose, taking in the smell. Then he turned to his companions and snarled in a horrid voice, a voice that sounded like he had swallowed a bunch of nails and his throat still hadn't healed. "They were here. I can smell it. They're already heading there."
His companions laughed evilly, happy everything was falling into place. The leader of the group of men, turned to face his companions. His face was not a sight for sensitive eyes. Grey skin covered his bony body, hollow eyes stared ahead, focusing on anything and everything, giving him a distant look. Scars covered his ill colored face, his mouth nothing but a thin line and his nose was long and crooked, bending over in a hook. His body was covered in rags. Dirty white rags that had been ripped and torn and hung off his body. He wasn't even the worst looking out of everyone there.
He bent down and touched the ground, lifting it to his make-shift mouth, tasting it with a pointed black tongue. "They haven't long left. We must tell Master they are their way!" And with that, the air began to move around them, fading them into nothing until the place was once again uninhabited.