“He’s on the Expanse, helping Quiet with something, I think,” Trin answered.
“You have a cyborg dog?” Tiffannee asked in disbelief. “This place keeps getting weirder and weirder.”
“We recruited you to help Father Time’s assistant assimilate his personality, and you think this is weird?” Sophia had to question.
“I get that we’re newlyweds, but you’ll have to try harder to learn about my life if this is going to work,” Evan joked.
“It’s not going to work,” Tiffannee said snottily. “I’ll help you get the thistle, but then I’m out of here. I can’t spend any more time with you freaks.”
“Out! Out! Out!” Trin yelled as she threw her hands up and nearly pushed the mortal onto the floor.
Sophia, realizing she needed to intervene fast, jumped between the cyborg and Tiffannee, then ushered the doctor out the open Castle door. “We’ll be on our way. Sorry for disturbing you, Trin.”
Sophia was able to get Tiffannee out of the Castle and close the door before Trin tried to reach across her shoulders and strangle the mortal. Evan spilled out beside them, shock written on his face too.
Something had angered the cyborg about the situation, and Sophia had a hunch it wasn’t merely being offended by the psychiatrist.
Chapter Thirty
It started to rain on the Expanse as they crossed the grounds toward Falconer Cave on the far side of the Gullington. Apparently, the potential location was on the other side of those mountains, roughly a few miles away. That was convenient, but not a surprise. That side of the Gullington was full of mysterious surprises and portal locations where Sophia had many adventures.
Used to the rain, Sophia held her head up as rain splattered her cheeks, her shoulders braced against the howling winds that swept across the Pond.
“Do one of you have an umbrella?” Dr. Freud shielded her head and hair with her hands but did a poor job of it.
Sophia didn’t answer but instead studied the map. The thistle was most likely located on Holyrood Hill, on the eastern side. She knew the first big challenge was finding the location. Hoping that they didn’t have to comb through a ton of flowers and plants was another. The map simply had a star on the top of the hill that said, “Blather’s Location,” and beside it a large thistle.
Much like many of the magical books she referenced, Hidden Places led her to the right page based solely on her intentions. She hoped that it at least led her in the right direction based on the information that Bep had given her—or rather, not given her much of.
Evan held his chin up, seeming to enjoy the rain sprinkling his face. “We don’t need an umbrella. It would only get tangled in the wind.”
“But it’s raining,” Tiffannee complained and pulled up her collar to protect the back of her neck from the wind-spiked rain.
Evan stuck out his tongue and took a drink from the sky. “This isn’t rain. It’s merely spitting on us. A real Scotsman would never use an umbrella. That’s how you spot the tourists in the city.”
Sophia nodded, having experienced this when she’d gone into town for supplies on rare occasions. “We’re going between the hills and up.” She pointed in the direction of Falconer Cave after picking a trek that she thought the mortal could handle although she’d inevitably hold them up a little.
“How about I tell you some useful Scottish information to take your mind off the weather?” Evan offered thoughtfully and held up his arm as if he were going to put it around Tiffannee’s shoulders.
When she abruptly shook her head at him, he dropped his arm but still smiled.
“All right then,” Evan began cheerfully. “Do you know why bagpipers, or pipers as we call them, walk while they play?”
Tiffannee didn’t reply aloud but rather cut her eyes at him, annoyance written on her face.
“To get away from the noise,” Evan replied with a laugh.
Sophia grinned ever so slightly and took the lead. Her boots sank into the grass as they hiked deeper into the hills and away from the Castle.
“Do you know that we only get two seasons in Scotland?” Evan asked the mortal as the rain picked up a little and soaked their hair.
Sophia pulled her hood up and tucked her strands underneath.
“Oh really?” Tiffannee sounded intrigued. “I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah, we get June and winter,” Evan said with another laugh.
Tiffannee didn’t at all appear amused by this as she pursed her lips. “So not information on Scotland. Only jokes…”
“Well, you can learn a lot from jokes,” Evan argued and held out his hand as the water rained down heavier from the sky. “Now this is bordering on raining…sort of. We’d say it’s pissing down.”
“Can’t you magic me an umbrella?” Tiffannee hunched over to shield herself from the rain.
“Can’t,” Sophia replied before Evan could. “Not a good use of magic and we don’t know what we’ll be facing. Can’t risk depleting reserves.”
The psychiatrist sighed deeply. “I thought this was supposed to be an easy trip.”
“So far, it is,” Sophia related. “Haven’t had to pull my sword or fight an angry toad.”
Evan chuckled. “I remember that toad. Silly guy. Gave me great hallucinations.”
Sophia shook her head. “That’s because you tried to lick it.”
“Hey, I missed the seventies while stuck at the stupid Gullington,” Evan argued. “I heard that the hippies had the best drugs, like toads and stuff.”
“Now they have no brain cells either,” Sophia added and led them around the side of the hill and straight past Falconer Cave. The wind whistled past the stone structure, which Sophia was pretty sure was in a different place on that day. It, like many things in the Gullington, changed depending on mood and whatever else. “I think we have to hike up to the top of that hill there.” She pointed to a steep incline that peaked some five hundred feet up.
“Up there,” Tiffannee complained. “Again, this isn’t as easy as you promised.”
The psychiatrist wasn’t wearing hiking shoes but rather leather loafers that were now caked in mud. Sophia felt a pang of remorse for the mortal, but it was short-lived when she went back to complaining about the rain and cold.
Sophia trudged ahead and kept her annoyance to herself. She always subscribed to the notion that things were as easy or as hard as one wanted them to be. It so happened that too often, people liked to think of them as difficult so that was their experience.
“Hey, I have a story for you, Tiff.” Evan earned an irritated expression from her. “There’s a Scotsman hiking through a field, much like how we are right now. He sees this man who is about to drink out of a burn—”
“A what?” Tiffannee interrupts.
“A creek,” Sophia supplied over her shoulder.
“Yeah, we call creeks burns,” Evan said. “Anyway, the Scotsman, being a kind and gentlemanly bloke, rushes over to warn his fellow Scot. He says, ‘Hey, ya can’t drink dat. It’s piss. The guy frowns at him and scratches his head and says, ‘Sorry, I didn’t understand you. I’m an Englishman.” The Scotsman nods and smiles and talks clearly this time, saying, ‘I said, enjoy your drink. It’s good water.’”