"We need to talk." I hobbled toward him, refusing to cower, even as he rose to his feet, brandishing the knife.

"I said go away!"

"You want to stab me? Go ahead. I already owe you my life, it's yours to take back if you want it. But I'm not leaving until I get some answers."

He stared at me for a god-awful minute, then lowered the blade, slipping it back into its leather sheath as he fell slowly back into his rocking chair. "Whit is it ye want?"

"Seventeen years ago, when you saved my life, you knew the creature that attacked me was afraid of bright light. How did you know?"

"I served as water bailiff a long time. I ken whit I ken."

"What else can you tell me about the creature?"

"Nothin'."

"It's trapped in Loch Ness, isn't it?"

The old man looked up at me then, his expression of concern confirming my suspicions. "Go ask yer rabbittin' faither, seein' as he's the one that's been fillin' yer heid."

"You're wrong about Angus. He refuses to tell me anything, and it's his life that's at stake."

MacDonald scoffed.

"What was the sworn mission of the Black Knights, Mr. MacDonald? How does it relate to the creature?"

He stood, his patience shot. "I think it's high time ye were gone."

"I'll go, but those monster hunters won't be leaving. This time they'll stay until they've captured the creature, or are forced to kill it. Either way, it'll be on your head."

I hobbled out of his chamber, then out the lodge to the Harley. I climbed on the bike and was about to gun the engine when I saw the old man emerge.

For a moment, I wondered if he meant to talk or stab me.

"I have yer word as kin o' Sir William Wallace that ye'll no' speak o' this tae anyone?"

"Yes, sir."

He fidgeted, still contemplating his decision. "Dinnae ask me again aboot the Black Knights, that I take wi' me tae the grave. As tae the monster, I dinnae ken whit she is, I've only caught glimpses o' her twice, a' I ken is she's the last o' her kind, though whit kind, again, I cannae say. She's big, though, bigger'n any afore her, an' that's 'cause she's been trapped a long time, unable tae leave the Loch Ness tae spawn. Nature took ower an' jist let her grow. Born in blackness, she'll aye prefer the deep, at least she aye did 'til jist this past winter. At first I thought it wis a' the blastin' at that damn resort that sent her topside, jist like it did when she attacked ye seventeen years ago. But I wis wrong. Somethin' isnae right wi' the Loch, an' it's affected her mind an' her appetite, jist as it's affected the eels. Lesions, ye say?"