Skara Braens

Part 36

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Okay then.... Onward!

"I mean," you muse.  "I saw standing stones, so to a standing stone we must go, I think.  Let's go to Mor Stein."

"Mor Stein it is," Artair says.  He turns to Mordina, who is barely paying attention to the conversation.  Instead, she's scanning her surrounds, scowling.

"You alright?" you ask her.

"I don't like it," she growls.

"Don't like what?" Drest asks.

"It's silent here."

"I hear the sea, the wind, the birds...." Drest's list fades away as he notices David stiffening.

"No," the soldier says softly.  "She's right.  This was the locus of the breakout.  There should be infected all over the place."

"Maybe they've just rotted away," Artair says.  "You can't move if you don't have muscles to pull you around."

You remember your vision, and the skeletons in furs who were wandering, lost; the child, bow-legged and heavy browed, who pleaded for your help.

"I wouldn't be so sure," you murmur.

"Something doesn't feel right," Mordina says.  "I don't like it."

"No," David said.  "I agree."

"There's nothing for it now," you say.  "Unless you want to go back."

"That might be wiser."

"But would get us nowhere," Artair notes.

"No.  To Mor Stein we go," you say.  We'll handle whatever comes up."

"I don't like it," Mordina says.

"How far to Mor Stein?" you ask Artair.

"An hour, cross country."

"We should get going, then."  You lift your pack and slip your arms through the straps.

Mordina growls, but does not complain further.  In silence, the group follows your lead.  Moments later, you're following Artair away from Balfour to the west.

With everyone in relatively good shape, a break is not needed.  You walk the full hour to Mor Stein, through overgrown fields that once held crops, you're certain.  As you walk, you note how odd it is that there are so few trees on the island.  Most of the ones you could see were beside small farmsteads that were in various stages of disrepair.

"They were all cut," Artair mentions.  "The entire island was farmland at one point.  There was no room for trees."

"Shame," you note, wiping your brow.  "We could use some shade."

"Aye," Artair agrees.

You continue on in silence until Artair speaks again.  "Well, here it is."

You look past his broad frame to spy a single, upright menhir, standing forlornly surrounded by spindly, shrubby-looking strands of grass.  In your mind, you expected an enormous stone, towering over the landscape.  Instead, this single, roughly rectangular rock sticking out of the ground seemed... disappointing.

"That's it?" you ask.

"Mor Stein, aye," Artair answers.  He moves forward until he is standing immediately before the stone.  "Is this like what you saw in your vision?" he asks as you approach.