He pointed to a forest. Seemed a strange place to visit, but before I made a fool of myself by asking, I narrowed my eyes and concentrated on sharpening my night vision. After a moment, I could see a building soaring above the treetops. Spires ringed the huge, flat roof.

“Looks like a castle,” I said.

“Glamis Castle.”

“Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be What thou art promised. Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o’ the milk of human kindness.”

One of the cows mooed appreciatively. Trsiel arched his brows.

“What?” I said. “You recognize Bogart and Bacall but not the Immortal Bard?”

A shrug and a half-smile. “I’ve always been more of a cinematic angel. Shakespeare told some great stories, but I could never get past the boys in drag playing Juliet. As for the quote, judging by the locale, I’m guessing Macbeth.”

“Bingo. My one and only high school drama starring role: Lady Macbeth. I was a natural.”

Trsiel started to laugh.

I turned on him, finger raised. “Don’t say it.”

Trsiel grinned. “I don’t need to.”

I started forward again, still staring at those majestic spires, black against the blue-gray night. “So this is that Glamis?”

“This is the Glamis Castle that Shakespeare wrote about, though it had nothing to do with the historical Macbeth.”

We walked through a barbed-wire fence and onto a path.

“What’s the Nix doing here?”

“I’m not sure,” Trsiel said. “I saw the images through Amanda Sullivan, and I recognized the castle, but the only connection I can make is that it’s reputed to be the most haunted in Scotland.”

“Oooh, a haunted castle. I’ve always wanted to visit one of those. What’s the story?”

He smiled. “Which one?”

“The best one. The bone-chillingest one.”

“Well, the best one, I’m afraid, doesn’t involve a ghost at all, but a living, breathing monster. As for ghosts—”

“No, tell me the monster one.”

He glanced over his shoulder at me.

“Oh, come on,” I said. “Unless you can teleport us over to the castle, we have another mile to walk. I’ve spent ten hours sitting with Lizzie Borden. Entertain me. Please.”

He smiled. “All right, then. But I warn you, storytelling is definitely not an area of angel expertise. So, how to start…hmmm.”

“Once upon a time?”

He shot me a look. “Even I can do better than that. Let’s see…” He cleared his throat. “No castle would be a proper castle without a secret room or two. Glamis being a castle among castles, has three. There’s the one where Earl Beardie spends eternity playing cards with the Devil. And there’s the one where a Lord Glamis walled up a band of Ogilvies. But the best, and most…bone-chilling-est, is the one that contains the cursed Glamis monster.”

“Oooh, I love a good curse.”

“You want to tell the story?”