The Eldritch Lodge

Maise had lived on the mainland all her life. She had never traveled further than the countryside of the town she was born in. She never went to university, she never married. She still lived at home at the ripe old age of 34 - until today. 

When her father passed away last month, she found herself homeless, jobless and nearly penniless. There weren't many options for her in the small village. Thanks to her father, her reputation, by proxy, was far from stellar. On paper she had minimal education. She knew that it was time to leave the only place she had ever known. 

There had been an advertisement in the market for a live-in position at a lodging house on one of the nearby islands. It wasn't a grand hotel that would garner Maise any real world experience, but it offered room and board plus a small stipend. She once heard someone say that you can't learn to fly if your feet are on the ground so she called the number. 

*****

As she stood on the ferry watching the island come in view, her mind wandered. She was offered the position almost minutes after calling the number on the flyer. She explained about her lack of education and her reason for not having any work experience. The woman on the other end of the line was very understanding. 

Her duties were simple and not much different than regular household chores. There would be some light front desk work but Ms. Agnes, the manager, said that was easy enough to teach. Maise was not typically a confident woman but she felt strangely optimistic in her abilities, and this opportunity. 

*****

Ms. Agnes and Brodie, her grandson and head of maintenance, greeted her at the front doors. Although it was a few weeks into October, there were still porters working the docks. Ms. Agnes told her that what little luggage she had would be taken directly to her room. It would be the last stop on their tour. 

The Eldritch Lodge was the islands’ only accommodation. It was a small hotel, only having 12 guest rooms. There was a gourmet kitchen that would rival some of the finest in the country. It had a small dinette area for the staff. The main dining area was the only original part of the building. Built in 1745, the great hall of a long destroyed castle featured a long table that sat a total of 42 people. There was a small pub that sat just inside the front entry. Maises’ private quarters were located in a short hallway behind the front desk. It was more like a tenement flat than a hotel room, consisting of a small sitting area, a kitchenette with a fold down table for two and a bedroom with an en suite bathroom. 

After the tour, Maise and Ms. Agnes sat and discussed the responsibilities of the position. “While we are technically open year round, our winters can be tough. The bone chilling temperatures, gale force winds and frequent hail and sleet showers, usually keep any guests away from mid-November through the spring. 

“Brodie will be here through the winter to keep up with the maintenance and the grounds. You may or may not see him at all, his quarters are in the storage building towards the back of the property. He prefers to keep to himself but if you need him, you can get him on the walkie-talkie at the desk. 

“You will need to keep all of the rooms cleaned just in case. No need to change the bedding unless someone actually checks in. Just keep the dust to a minimum and any outside creatures, outside. If someone calls for a room, just note it in the ledger and drop the payment (cash or cheque only) into the slot under the register. The hotel offers breakfast and supper, so you will need to cook for anyone that is here. During the season, we lay out meats & cheeses, fruits & crackers for lunch but that is not required for you to do. 

“The island does have a market and a small library that are closed but you will have keys to both. If you need any personal items or would like to pick up some books, feel free to use them. Just make a note of your purchases and put the payment in the same slot with guest payments. You are more than welcome to use the kitchen and formal dining area so long as there are no guests. The ferry will close for regular business on the 1st but they will make special trips if needed, weather permitting of course. 

“And I guess that is all. I will leave you to get settled. Dinner will be ready at 7:00. We will start training tomorrow morning, bright and early!”

*****

After little more than a week of training, Maise was on her own. Ms. Agnes had taken the last ferry to the mainland this morning. For the first time in her life Maise was on her own. Well, yes, Brodie was somewhere so she wasn’t alone but she didn't have someone to tend to, someone to answer to. She could come and go as she pleased, within reason. 

She sat at the front desk for a long while trying to decide how each day should run. She had always liked having a routine, a schedule. She was not a fan of surprises, she liked to know exactly how every part of her day would unfold. With this new phase of her life, she wanted to make sure everything was right and proper. 

She decided that she would start every day at the front area making any notes and reviewing any from the previous day. She would have an early breakfast and then start cleaning the rooms. She managed to get each room down to 15 minutes during training, so she should be done with the cleaning part of her day before lunch. Leaving her afternoons to do as she wished. 

*****

The weather was bearable for the first few weeks of November, so Maise was able to walk down to the library every few days. As the temperatures started to drop, she decided to check out a large selection of books. She also made a stop at the market to pick up anything she might need over the next few months. She would make a list of everything she took when she got back to her room.

St. Andrews Day was just around the corner. It would be the first one that she had ever celebrated alone. Maybe there was a flag somewhere she could hang in the dining room. The kitchen stores were fully stocked with everything a single person could need for a lifetime. She decided that she would invite Brodie for a traditional dinner. 

Maise made haggis with neeps and tatties, cock-a-leekie soup, and even cranachan (with raspberry jam instead of fresh raspberries). Brodie showed up and shared stories of the island, past guests, and the history of the castle. They even shared a nip of whiskey. It was a good day. It was also the only time they shared a meal for the rest of the winter.

*****

As the calendar moved through December, the days began getting shorter. Most days, Maise finished her daily chores before the sun had fully risen. While the weather was getting too bad to walk to town, she could walk the grounds for a little after lunch and be back in the warmth of the kitchen before it sank back behind the awe-inspiring rock pillars. 

Maise found herself spending more and more of her afternoons in the formal dining room. It was the only room with a fireplace and what seemed to be an endless supply of firewood. Her first few attempts at lighting a fire were failures, but she had finally gotten the hang of it. She brought one of the sitting chairs from the lobby into the room so she could sit by the fire and read. It made her feel like she was transported back in time to a simpler life. That fire was becoming a companion in some ways. 

*****

Maise woke to a knocking sound… no, not a knock. What was that noise? A gurgle? She sat up, looked around and spotted a raven sitting on the armoire. How did he get in here? She put on her robe and walked to the bedroom door. The raven appeared to be following her. She walked through her apartment as the bird flew right beside her, out of her apartment and to the front door. But the bird would not fly out of the door. He turned and flew towards the dining room. 

Well there goes the whole keeping outside creatures, outside rule. 

She padded her way to the dining room and looked at the raven. He sat contently on the back of the carvers chair, like he was the master of the house and belonged at the head of the table. “Am I to make your breakfast, my good sir”? Did I just talk to a bird? Maise tried to remember when the last time she spoke out loud was. Brodie was the last person I spoke to. What was that, a month and a half ago? 

The raven made another gurgling sound and hopped onto her shoulder. “I guess we are heading to the kitchen”.

Maise put the kettle on for her morning tea and tried to recall any knowledge she had of birds. She was certain that this was a raven because of his large size. Plus crows make a caw sound not a croak. It didn't really matter as she couldn't remember what either one of them ate! Don't all birds eat seeds and bugs and berries? She made herself a slice of toast and put some dried fruits and nuts on a saucer for her new friend. 

*****

It had been raining for weeks. Now that she thought about it, it had been raining since the raven showed up. He had decided to make this place his home and the gale force winds made it hard for Maise to evict him. The day had been very grey but as the afternoon set in, the sun started sinking, and the temperatures dropped to freezing, the view from the window took on a blue appearance. 

Snow could be seen on the higher peaks around the island, making it look as though someone tossed a white blanket across them. She didn't need to walk outside to know that the ground would be frozen solid by the time the morning came. 

Maise tried to sleep but the hail on the slate roof kept her from dozing. She made her way to the dining room with the raven. She thought about naming him. They lit a fire and warmed the kettle for a cup of chamomile tea. Then they curled up in the chair with a book about old Scottish folklore. She didn't remember grabbing it from the library, she didn't usually care for folklore, but there it was on the pile. 

*****

Maise was walking behind the old hag. Her raven had left her and alighted upon the shoulder of the hag. Her face was veiled and she wore an apron that looked to be full of large stones. She had some sort of staff in her hand. 

Maise tried to speak to her but the wind was so loud she could not even hear herself speak out loud. She should have been freezing but her skin was warm to the touch. She watched as the woman tapped her staff upon the ground here and there. The ground that touched the staff visibly froze and spread to meet the next place she tapped. She raised a palm up to her mouth and blew although there was nothing in her hand. You could see the frost dance, whitening the landscape. It started snowing.

*****

Maise woke with a start, chilled to the bone. The fire was barely burning. Her blanket had fallen to the floor. There was snow falling outside. As she tried to shake off the dream, she saw the book laying open on the floor. 

The Cailleach is the ancient goddess of winter. She is the anchor of life, death, and rebirth. She rules

over the darkness brought on by Samhain. She carries a slachdan, using it to freeze the ground.

She is often seen with a raven serving as her companion and messenger. 

Sitting at the threshold of the spirit world,The Great Crone has the ability to travel through various thin places. As the host of these spiritual gateways, she has the ability to lift the veil and guide souls. 

She called for the raven. Brodie appeared from the kitchen hall. “I was bringing some more firewood up. There's a rather large front moving in and I wanted to make sure you had plenty.” 

Maise was still shaken by her dream. She wasn't sure where her bird had gotten off to. She didn't know how Brodie had gotten all the way into the kitchen without waking her. She couldn't help but to feel a little spooked by her dream. As she turned to thank Brodie, she couldn't help but notice how dark his eyes were, almost black and familiar.

*****

Maise found Ms. Agnes sitting at the front desk when she finished her morning rounds. It was still only February and she wasn't supposed to return until the first week of March. She said that there was an event she had to prepare for. 

The days continued as normal for Maise. She was a little more diligent in her duties, but still had plenty of free time in the afternoons. She and Ms. Agnes split the cooking tasks. Brodie even came down more often to share meals. 

Maise enjoyed listening to the old woman tell stories of past events as the three of them sat by the fire. The dining hall made a wonderful place to hold celebrations of all kinds and Ms. Agnes had been there for many of them. Her favorites were the sainings and the keenings. She said that there had been many births and deaths in this place and for as long as she could remember, she had been a part of them. 

Her stories were very comforting, her voice soothing like a cup of warm tea with honey. While they didn't know each other very well, Maise had grown very fond of her. Maise spoke of her gratitude for finding this place. 

*****

On one particularly chilly evening, Ms. Agnes asked Maise about the death of her father. The details had grown foggy in her memory. She knew that there had been a fire. She could still hear the sirens in her mind. Why were those sirens so loud?

Brodie came in with a bottle of whiskey from the pub. He poured a splash in the teacups. 

Her life had never been a happy one. She had never known her mother. Her father always seemed to be mad about something. 

She heard her raven knocking.

She remembered thinking that she could not go on living like that. She remembered arguing with her father about it. She wanted to leave him, leave their town, live a life that was her own. 

Ms. Agnes started to hum a rhythmic tune. 

Maise could hear beeping and a high pitched alarm, she could hear a hissing sound. There were voices. The sirens were wailing again. 

Was it sirens? 

Ms. Agnes started chanting, it was almost rhythmic. Was she singing? She recognized the word "mo chroí" , her father used to call her that. It meant my heart.

There was that knocking again. Brodie was gone again. The raven sat on Ms. Agnes’ shoulder.

The front doors opened wide as the sun crested the horizon. The ground was starting to thaw. 

Spring was here. A time of rebirth.