Brigadoon

Third Persons POV.
Brigadoon according to Wikipedia is a musical which features two American tourists who stumble upon a mysterious Scottish village that appears for one day every hundred years.

The party parked in an area set aside just passed the ‘curtain’ they had crossed through, about two miles from the main town.

‘We have to walk from here,’ Peter told Emma.

‘Yeah,’ Onan went on to explain. ‘The magic that protects this entrance means that motor vehicles aren’t effective very far in. So about fifty years ago we set up this area to park them in. For easy retrieval when we go back the other way.’

‘I… I thought Brigadoon was fictional.’ Emma exclaimed. ‘Wiki said it was made up in a film, and some poem by Burns.’

‘Modern media, the perfect way to hide the truth.’ Griffin dropped into the conversation.

‘Brigadoon is one of many gateway locations between the supernatural and human worlds. It isn’t visible in the human world, and humans can’t enter unless they are part of our world or have a special talisman. You are Peter’s mate, so you are part of our world.’ Onan continued.

As they explained the existence of Brigadoon to Emma the cars were unloaded and the party headed, on foot, towards the conurbation.

The path from the carpark to the town was more of a cart track, or farm track than a proper road. With dry-stone walls on either side, and a very narrow grass verge. Decebal was leading the way followed by Griffin, Jess, Emma, Peter, Onan and Barlas, in that order.

Jess suddenly stopped, and bent over, so Emma nearly ran into the back of her.

‘For fuck sake,’ Jess muttered. And straightened up with a blue shiny wrapper in her hand. ‘Middle of Scotland, and we still end up with discarded rubbish.’

‘Is it much of a problem?,’ Emma asked.

‘It gets worse by the year,’ was the response. ‘Mostly us travelling back with treats and littering on the way… you don’t usually get crisps in the supernatural world.’

That made Emma think about all the things she might no longer be able to have.

‘Please tell me you have decent coffee,’ Emma begged the group.

‘Yeah we do,’ Onan piped up. ‘Believe it or not most major towns have a Costa and a Starbucks… you would swear they were magic… if feels like you find them on every high street human or supernatural.’

Suddenly Emma stopped, turning to with a worried look. ‘Plumbing… oh my god… what about the plumbing? That place ahead looks positively medieval… Is Whitewater like that too?’

The rest of the party laughed. ‘Humans have had plumbing since the Romans you know,’ Onan informed her. ‘But with regards to the supernatural world there is water on tap, toilets you will recognise… it just works in a more sympathetic way with nature due to little magic in the construction… Next thing I know you will be say that you think the lights are from candles.’

The sun was getting lower in the sky, and lights began to sparkle in some of the town windows as they approached. For Emma it was a little unworldly, as if she was walking backward in time. She blushed. That was exactly what she had thought. But now she felt too embarrassed to ask about the light.

Still it won’t be long until we get there, she thought. And with the sun setting she felt sure their journeying for the day was almost over.
…
They made their way along the cobbled streets towards an inn. The long evening shadows now in full evidence. The streets lit by small glowing balls on posts… In the human world they would be electric streetlamps, but in Brigadoon they were specially enchanted white quartz balls.

Emma pointed at the lights, ‘How?’ she asked. Bemusement replacing her earlier embarassment.

‘The lights?’ Onan asks. ‘Enchanted quartz… Quartz is plentiful and robust; and the spell is a basic level one practiced by apprentices. This means that every city, town, village and homestead benefits from light in the darkness when they want it.’

‘When they want it?’ a puzzled looking Emma asks. ‘How do you switch off a glowing stone ball? There’s no switch!’

The party grins. ‘With a magic word of course.’

‘Are you lot yanking my chain?’ Emma demanded.

Peter pulled her into him and they stood together looking at the luminous spheres.

‘No truly, my love,’ he tells her. ‘For most household lights you say “Lux on” or “Lux off” …for town lights and others you wouldn’t want just anyone illuminating; they each have their own secret phrase, whereas public areas such as shops usually have the light function locked to specific individuals. The more complex the spell the more it costs, but if you own a business you don’t want some scallywag running in and turning the lights off on your customers.’

Explanations completed, Peter and Emma turn and walk the last few yards to the public house, The Speak Inn, and enter through the big double doors.

The doors open into a large bar area, crowded with wooden tables, and a mismatch of chairs, stools and benches. The atmosphere is bustling and busy; but as the doors open the place falls silent as every occupant turns to see who has entered.

Maybe sixty sets of eyes rake over the group; weighing them, judging them. In under two seconds the decision made; noise levels rose again as everyone turned back to their previous occupations; eating, drinking, talking, carousing, serving, singing, playing, fighting.

A woman approached them. Her dark hair pulled off her face and piled on top of her head. Her dark brown eyes outlined by kohl. Her full lips highlighted with a bronzed red shade. Her skin is a light bronze shade. She was dressed in a white buttonless chemise, with an overtunic. The skirt of the tunic brushing the top of her button up ankle boots, and puffed out by the myriad of petticoats underneath. Over the top of it all is a pristine white old fashioned apron, tied at the waist and giving her an hourglass silhouette.

‘Ladies and gentleweres,’ she greets them. ‘Welcome to The Speak Inn. I am Ann, head of house. How may we serve you this evening?’

‘We require lodgings for the night, please.’ Peter replied. ‘Rooms for all of us… a single for Jess, a double for myself and my mate. For the other four it depends what is available, they can bunk together in two twins, or four singles, or some combination. Also we require dinner tonight and breakfast in the morning please.’

‘No problem sir,’ Ann said, walking across to a board of keys with fobs bearing room numbers. She passed out the keys, and continued. ‘I will organised a table for you all near the bay window. It will be ready in an hour, if you would like the opportunity to freshen up.’

With that they all disappeared upstairs and got ready for dinner. Showering and changing their travel stained clothes.

They reconvened a short while later and sat at the table indicated, which gave a great view of a small stage at the far end of the bar, and one of the doors.

A girl, much younger than Ann, came over to the table.

‘Hi, I’m Becki,’ she said, chewing and then popping gum, much to the party’s surprise. ‘What can I get ya? Food menu is on the board over there… we have steak and ale pie, stew, roast chicken or gammon on tonight.’ She continued reading from it.

The group ordered their food, with Emma and Onan choosing stew, Peter, Jess and Griffin pie, and the other two chose chicken. To drink they all had small ale… a weak beer popular in the middle ages, and the equivalent of a modern day soda… It was served in pewter tankards.

Just as the food came the house lights dimmed and a beautiful woman in a glistening green dress graced the stage. She sang a series of otherworldly songs, causing every unmated male to fixate on the gorgeous redhead, enspelled by her.

When the set ended Emma looked round at the men throughout the room shaking themselves out of the trance they had been ensnared in.

‘So what’s that all about?’ Emma asked. ‘The songs were okay, but they got a big reaction, how come?’

‘She’s a siren,’ Jess told Emma. ‘No unmated male can resist her song.’

‘What… you mean sirens are real! So there are werewolves and sirens, are there other supernaturals?’ she wanted to know.

‘Oh yes, there are various werecreatures and shifters, fairies and witches, dwarves and elves, trolls, goblins, vampires, naga, dryads, nymphs, satyrs, dragonkin, mermaids, and harpies to name but a few. Some are like you would expect from human mythology, and some are not. It is a case that the unbelievable truths are again hidden by believable lies.’

After the break a troll rock band took to the stage making conversation quite impossible.

Once the music was finished Emma found that she was feeling very tired, and looked across at Peter, and was about to ask him to take her to bed. When her gaze is drawn past Peter and across the room, as a face framed in dark brown hair peers through a large multi paned bay window. It is a face she hasn’t forgotten so soon; one she doesn’t believe she can forget; one which will haunt her nightmares for years to come. The eyes of the man looking in widen as he spots her.

All the colour drains from her face, and she points a shaking arm at the window. Much to the confusion of her companions. For a moment her voice fails her.

‘Burke’ she screams.