He slung his sack on his back and once more began walking carefully and slowly toward his destination, amazed at how quiet his steps had become. However, as he began to hear the sounds of water, his heart pounded so loudly he wasn’t certain the soft-soled shoes would help at all.

Once I see her, I must not look away. Mustn’t make any noise. Mustn’t let her see me. Must snatch her up off the ground. Must require her to answer three questions.

He silently repeated the list as he walked, hoping that by making the instructions quite clear in his mind, he would be able to adhere to them without difficulty. He would have but one chance.

His heart ached as he thought of Sorcha waiting for him on the other side of the hill. She had waited alone for her family all those years ago, not realizing they had been unable to escape the monster as she had. He didn’t want her to suffer like that again. And he most certainly didn’t want to die.

His footsteps, silent under the influence of his borrowed shoes, took him closer and closer to the sound of water. After a time, the swishing sound of water being agitated joined the cacophony. That, he would wager, was the Bean-Nighe washing her terrifying shrouds.

Duncan searched the area, determined to know where she was so he wouldn’t accidentally give himself away. Closer and closer he drew. Nearer and nearer he came. A slight rise in the path afforded him a view of the entire loch—its pristine, luminous waters, the mountains on every side. And what appeared to be a haggard old woman hunched over on the shore, her back to him, washing.

The Bean-Nighe.

He stepped closer and closer. How he wished he could look down to make certain of his steps and avoid disturbing any rocks underneath his foot. But looking away meant certain death, so he kept his eyes on her.

She was muttering to herself, though not in any language he understood. Her voice was just loud enough to mask what little noise his footsteps made. He drew closer, keeping extremely quiet.

Don’t let her see you.

So long as he didn’t distract her from her gruesome task, she wouldn’t look in his direction.

Careful.

Quiet.

He was closer than ever, close enough to hear the clink of rocks hitting each other, no doubt being used to scrub shrouds.

Lift her off the ground, or the shroud will be mine.

He was so close. One more step. He held his arms out. He could not afford even the tiniest mistake. He swung his arms together and wrapped them around the twisted figure, lifting her immediately from the ground.