A/N: This was inspired by the author's trip to Scotland. The tour guides lines are written in vernacular, so if it doesn't make sense, try sounding it out. An interlude comes next, once I can convince Kailla to aide me in writing it.
Disclaimer: Star Wars and all attendant characters belong to Lucas. Shallow Grave to whoever produced it and Highlander and all 5000-year-old immortals to Rhysher.
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A cold wind was blowing through the heart of Edinburgh almost a month later. Three flat mates were playing tourists on the Royal Mile up to Edinburgh Castle.
"And to your right," Sarah said loudly for the benefit of the video camera she held in one hand, "is an authentically genuine Scottish shop." She turned to Alex, making sure his boyish skin filled the view screen. "So, Alex, how are you enjoying your holiday so far?"
"I'm freezing my bloody cuddie off…"He might have continued but Lia ran up, her hands suspiciously behind her back.
"Alex!" she exclaimed happily. "I've got something for you! You're going to absolutely love it but you have to close your eyes…"
Suppressing a giggle, Sarah made sure to keep the camera steady on her friends. This was going to be amusing.
Alex obliged warily, closing his eyes with a look of trepidation. Liath's grin grew wider and she pulled her gift from behind her. It was red, blue and yellow plaid "Musical Jimmy" hat, complete with fake, flaming red hair. Technically it looked like a golfing hat. She pulled it over his head, the fake and real hair mingling into a rather horrid mess and pressed the button.
He'd flinched a little as she put it on him but as the knowledge of what she'd done sunk in along with the cheap-beep version of the national anthem, a look of complete despair spread across his features.
Sarah started to laugh. The image was way to amusing. "And I've got it on film!"
"You…let me see!" Sarah stopped filming and rewound to when Liath had just put the hat on him. For a moment he looked upset but then he began to laugh. "C'mon, we're going to miss the bus up to the castle." Alex ushered them on board, while surrepticiously removing the hat from his head and relegating it to his back pocket. The driver glared at him as he fumbled for 70 pence, took his ticket and stumbled to the back, where he was forced to stand.
It was the end of October, Halloween to be exact, and Edinburgh was in a festive mood. The girls had forced him to declare a holiday and accompany them to the heart of the city. He had never seen the castle or its' surrounding sites – that he could remember. With Liath and Sarah along, it was sure to be a memorable visit.
In the past couple of weeks he had discovered many interesting facts about his new mates. For instance, their ability to cook was limited to how many dishes needed cleaning afterwards. And their sense of humor was decidedly odd. An example was the skull (real or fake he didn't want to know) they placed in the center of the table then covered in post it note reminders or the way they changed the answering machine message to lightsaber noises. He jumped every time he heard it. In short, they had their quirks but so did he and if he could just find another flat mate of their caliber, everything would be all right.
The thought triggered a panic in him. Images appeared; his hand holding a severed braid, a knife embedded in his shoulder and the laughter of a long forgotten but evil face. He leaned against the pole banishing the images to the back of his mind. This was not going to happen. He was on holiday with his friends and everything would be all right. Alex realized he was grinding his teeth together and stopped.
The bus pulled into the parking lot of Edinburgh Castle.
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There was an old fashioned pub with an upstairs dining room down the street from the castle. It had good ambience and the food wasn't half bad. Their diner was interrupted once or twice by the footballers celebrating yet another victory. They finished up their meal and pushed their way through the heavily crowded downstairs. Lia paused to flirt with a Scot in a plaid kilt but Sarah jerked her onward.
"Are you daft? We're going on the City of Terror Midnight Tour, remember?" Lia gave her an amused look.
"I was only teasing. A horror tour of Edinburgh is much more important than my social life." Her smile took away any sting the words might have had. Alex seemed a little stressed though.
"Just stop stalling and let's get on with it!" he snapped. They both stared at him.
"Are you okay, Alex?" Sarah asked. He looked at somewhere past their heads and sighed. His hand reached up to play with some nonexistent bit of hair he must have had, then jerked his hand down again. Neither of them mentioned it. The last time they did, he had almost thrown them out.
"I shouldn't be here!" He burst out. Some passersby stopped to stare at him but Liath gave them an evil look that got them moving again in a hurry.
"What?" Sarah asked, puzzled by this mood swing from the happy lad they'd spent the day with. He looked rather confused.
"Uh…sorry. It's nothing."
"Your positive?" Sarah persisted. "We could just go home…" Lia glared at her but Alex shook his head.
"No. If we're playing tourists, then we have to go all the way and that includes a tour of haunted Edinburgh." With a determined look, he offered both his arms to them and they began to walk up the steep hill. Sarah resolved to herself to keep and eye on Alex until they got home.
It was blustering out, so they kept their heads down. The wind made their coats stream out behind them. When they finally sat down at he meeting place, in the courtyard of an old church, they were freezing cold and rather damp. The two other people waiting avoided their eyes. In the silence they could hear the wind whistling through the church's upper spires.
It was one minute to midnight when their guide showed up-a dark haired woman in a black cloak that immediately sent pangs of jealously through Liath and Sarah.
"Why can't I have a cloak like that?" Lia whispered to Sarah, who elbowed her to be quiet. The woman took a look around at the meager turnout. She attempted to pull the cloak tighter around herself, while still placing her hands on her hips.
"It seems we may be getting' a wee bit 'o snow this ev'nin. 'Spose it must 'ave scared the crowds awee. There were at least thirty in the last group."
The two other tourists, Americans by their accents, murmured in agreement. Apparently they were beginning to regret staying away from their cozy B&B for so long. Alex and Lia snickered at their vacillation.
"Well, if ye'll gader'ound," their guide said, leading them over to a round monument in the middle of the courtyard. She reached into her satchel, pulled out a whip and commenced with the tale of a couple of English traitors and their punishment. Sarah and Liath shared a look of amusement. This was definitely their kind of tour.
They wandered the area of the Royal Mile, entertained at each stop by another gruesome tale. Alex seemed distracted and didn't even laugh at the morbidly funny parts, which having lived with him for the past month, they were sure he would. Lia tried teasing him to get a response but he shrugged it off, then hurried ahead of them down the steps to the crypt, looking very forlorn with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched.
"What is wrong with that man?" Lia asked Sarah, who shrugged.
"Who knows? Maybe he gets like this once a month…"They broke down in giggles but stopped when the echoes began to unnerve them. They hurried down the steps and waited at the corner with Alex for their guide to lead them down another slopping alleyway to the crypt entrance.
The whitewash was peeling off the stones around a metal, padlocked door. Their guide undid the lock and was about to open the door when it opened for her. The Americans jumped.
A gaunt, dark haired man in the cloak of a guide stepped out. His hair was gray despite the fact that he looked to be in his thirties and had a nose that in any other face would have been disfiguring. As it was, Lia gave Sarah an appreciative nudge and a delighted smile when he took over for their guide, with profuse apologies for her family emergency. Sarah noticed he looked tired. There was a good chance he had been woken up to take their little group.
He stood in the doorway and sighed inaudibly. Then he drew himself up and into character and Sarah blinked because for a moment he did look like someone right out of the eighteenth century.
Flourishing his cloak as any master magician might, he bowed to the small group and flashed a particularly evil grin. Liath gave an appreciative sigh and he began to speak.
"Good ev'nin ladies an gents. If I may welcome ye once more to that world o' honted Edinburgh. I am yer new guide, Ad'm McNamara, an' it'll ne me pleasure to lead ye all into tha crypt." He opened the door wide in one sweeping gesture and then continued. "If I me r'mind ye, we w'll be 'n verrry close qu'rt'rs. Ef ye're clostrephobic, I dinnae think ye'll appreci'te thas nixt p'rt."
No one spoke. The wind howled through the alley, moaning its' lament for the crypt. The Americans huddled closer together. Even Alex shivered and pulled his coat closer; suddenly wary of what might lie ahead.
Still, he offered his arms to the ladies and when they had taken them, stepped through the open door. The Americans followed and Adam told them to shut the door behind them.
Adam led them through another open doorway on the left. The floor was uneven and worn, and the ceiling, especially around any doorways, was very low. Everyone was forced to duck.
"Maybe there should be a height requirement," Lia commented. Adam glanced back at her.
"Aye. But den I wud nae be here telling ye stories." They shared a grin.
The party made their way through the halls, stopping now and again in one room or another. There was an eerie air about the place and the hollow sound of the wind overhead and the dank, musty smell that pervaded the air did little to comfort. Each room had a story, from body snatching college students to a menacing man that demanded all tourists leave immediately. The Americans huddled together and as close to Adam as his wicked grins and occasional booming "story voice" would allow.
Finally, they entered a large room that, judging by the rubble, used to have a lower ceiling. Adam cautioned them to keep back from the debris as he told them yet another tale.
As it came to a close, Adam looked around his handful of guests. The Americans seemed satisfied, if a touch frightened and the two girls seemed to be hanging on his every word. The grin he gave them nearly faded as his glance passed over the last fellow. He seemed to be fiddling with a non-existent piece of hair and ready to run at any moment. Worst of all was the look in the young man's eyes. Adam had seen that look before, and despite his desire to tell one more particularly terrifying tale, he thought it would be best to end the tour now.
"Anee quest'ns o' comments?" he asked simply and then with more malice, "O' per'aps a ghostly exper'ance of yer own?"
Everyone looked at each other with perhaps a hint of embarrassment at not having a tale to tell. Adam almost sighed. He should have known better than to ask such a small group. Even if someone had such an experience, most were loath to tell unless surrounded by people and the six of them hardly constituted a crowd.
Ghosts and the tales that went with them seemed and inevitable part of human life. He remembered believing wholeheartedly in such phenomenon when he was younger but his view had become much jaded since. Still there were things he'd seen…
He was snapped out of his revelry by a question from the dark haired girl.
"Are there any ghosts specifically in this room?" Back to the job.
"Well," he said slowly, his tone as dark as the sparkle in his eyes, "thar 'ave been a few inst'nces whar torists sich as yerselves 'ave seen a young lady in tha corner." He paused, pointing out a pile of rubble near some half hidden words on the wall. "Some say tha' she lays as tho' she ha' fallen. Othars say she es en a mang'l'd hep, weth t'rn an' bloody clothes but all agrae on one theng – tha' har throat es'lit clen across." Inevitably, their eyes followed his finger to the corner and the American couple's eyes widened. The two girls stated for a second, then grinned at each other. The lighter haired one mouthed, "cool". Their male companion, however, was not starring at the corner.
Adam watched as his eyes slide upward to the top of the pile of rubble. The boy turned slowly white and Adam could almost see his heart rate speed up. His friends noticed the change and one of them asked if he was all right. He didn't answer. Adam hadn't worked here for long but he knew the signs. They should get out of here now, and later, perhaps, he could ask the boy what he'd seen.
Before he could do so however the boy turned with a whimper of pain or fear, Adam couldn't tell, and ran out the door. They heard a slam. He must have chosen the nearest door, which Adam thought thankfully, happened to be the exit. Searching the crypt for a frightened boy at 2am was not his idea of fun.
His companions were clearly alarmed and followed their friend. This time Adam did sigh but motioned for his remaining charges to follow him out the door.
They exited into a tidy little bookshop but the kid was nowhere to be seen. His friends stood bewildered in the middle of the room. They could hear the traffic on the street above. The door to the outside was locked until the tourists paid their fare. That left only one place he could be.
Adam walked over to the long countertop and peered over the various paraphernalia to see the boy huddled in a ball on top of a pile of blankets. He could see the boy's lips moving but he was hardly making a sound. Adam felt sorry for the guy and started to say something soothing but then stopped. In his past experience, people in shock did not respond to kind words. He needed stimulation.
"Would you mind getting off my blankets?" His voice was sharp with his usual British tones as he dropped the thick Scottish accent he affected for the tours.
The boy stopped muttering and looked up at him, his intense gaze suddenly vivid and searching. Adam frowned at the way the kid's eyes seemed to see through him.
"You're blankets?"
"Yes, my blankets." His tone got intentionally sharper. "I'm sleeping here until I can find a bloody flat."
"You're sleeping on the floor of a crypt?" The boy was incredulous but Adam was relieved to see the amusement creep into his eyes, even if it was at his expense. He heard laughter behind him and turned to see the boy's companions shaking with mirth. This hadn't been done for their amusement. The dark haired one turned to her friend.
"No wonder his hair looked gray. The floor is covered in dust." They nearly collapsed in amusement, while their bewildered friend, two tourists and a guide looked on. The boy shook his head as if to clear it of the last vestiges of memories, then shared a look with Adam.
"The things those two find amusing." He commented, totally ignoring the fact that he had been about to laugh himself a few minutes before. The American's just kept looking confused.
Adam ushered them through the room and took the money for the tour, not even bothering to ask if they wanted the second half of it, which provided one, for an extra fee, with a cozy fireside chat and some ghost tales. Somehow he doubted they were interested.
That left him alone with the other three, who paid their fees quickly. The girls asked their friend in low tones if he was all right, obviously wanting to speak with him alone. But Adam just couldn't let them leave that easily.
"Wait," he looked down at the ledger, "Mr. Law. Can you…" He trailed off at the look on the kid's face. It would be painful if he continued for both of them.
"Nevermind," he finished lamely. Adam fully expected them to leave them but Mr. Law got a strange look in his eyes. He glanced at the two girls with a question in his eyes, then back at him. They shrugged.
Alex Law approached him then asked a very different question than Adam expected.
"We have a room at our flat. It's yours if you want it?"