Day Eight

I've lost time again.

My night in the cabin seemed to go on forever; every creak and groan chilled me to the very bone.  The wind picked up sometime near midnight, and managed to find its way through the cracks between the boards, around the frames of the windows, sucking out as much heat as I could generate with the fire I had burning.

It made me worry what else could possibly have gotten in.

I'm not much good at protective runes.  Those are Eri's specialty.  But she's not here.

Just him...

I'm so sick of him.

It took me three days to find the caves.  Three days wasted while I searched.  I know I should have recorded notes prior to now, but...

Writing things down has never been one of my strong points.

The caves were a little farther away than I had expected.  Had I followed the creek to begin with, instead of the larger river, I would have found it quicker.  But it goes to show how time can change so many things... before the small hydroelectric dam had been put in, that small creek had been much larger, with a much stronger current.  But the wise people of Blackstone felt that redirecting the water away from the falls would make it easier to harness as a source of energy.  Perhaps they were right, I don't know.

I do know that getting lost in the wilderness in January is not much fun.  But he is always there, if not to mock me, then to at least keep me alive.

The caves were neither big, nor impressive.  I had to slither in on my belly, a chore made all the more difficult by the cold weather and snow.  I hate the winters in this part of the world.

I want to go home.

Inside the cave, amid the rubble, the mouldering leaves, and rodent feces, I did find what I was looking for.  Etchings on stone, primitive, but to the point.

A horse, white in colour, with a single horn coming from its brow.  A female figure standing beside it.  A dagger in her hand.

I don't get it.  There are no unicorns in our mythology.  Don't they come from the Celts?  We have hydras and cyclopes and serpents so large...

I'm beginning to wonder if this is another one of his tests.  I hate his tests.

I want to go home.

At least now I am in semi-comfort, in a little room at Blackstone Bed and Breakfast.  Much nicer than the cabin.  Warmer too.  And I can crawl into a real bed, rest a little, rather than sit at a table, my head in my hands, letting my imagination run wild with what watches from the dark.

I wish I could say it's because I read too many scary stories.  I wish I could say that I've watched too many scary movies.

I wish it wasn't because of what I've seen wit my own two eyes.

Tomorrow is another day.  I have my photographs and rubbings of the cave etching.  Now I need to find where I've seen it before.

I need access to a good computer, and high speed Internet.