That night, Tori and Erzulie crept out of the pub. They could see the high cliffs of the isle in the distance. They could just make out the shape of the stone circle, which glowed orange from the festival bonfire. Just before they set off, the two women heard a familiar voice.
"Bonnie luck tae ye, guid lassies," said Old Hamish, who had appeared in the door frame of the pub.
"Oh, Hamish," said Tori as she recovered from the shock. "Didn't see you there."
"Ah didnae mean tae frighten ye," said Hamish, "but ah ken whaur ye'r gaun, 'n' ah wanted tae wish ye weel. Please let th' mistress o' this unhappy isle dae ye na harm, 'n' fin' oot whit became o' mah Fiona if ye kin."
"We will," said Tori.
"I still don't get how she could drink the blood of a girl out in the open at every festival and get away with it for so long," Erzulie mused. "Someone visiting from the mainland would eventually notice."
"She changed her wey o' daein' things efter she teuk mah Fiona," Hamish explained. "Noo she juist escorts th' sacrifice intae th' castle. Ah'd jalouse she bites thaim in thare."
"Just what we fucking need," Tori grumbled. "A leech who can learn from her mistakes. Well, bye, Hamish. We'll see you again after we've dealt with the Moon's Daughter." With that, the two raced off towards the cliffs.
"Nice guy," said Erzulie. "Pretty damn hard to understand his accent, though. What the fuck does it mean to 'jalouse' something?! To be jealous of it?"
"According to my Scots/English dictionary," Tori answered, "it means 'to suspect.' Damn, I hope Fiona isn't a vampire now."
"I wouldn't get my hopes up for that," said Erzulie. "Not the way Hamish told the story."
"Shit," Tori muttered. "Any hope for her at all then?"
"Well..." Erzulie mused, "there are certain witch spells that can cure vampirism, but they'd test the upper limits of my skill in the Craft."
"For Hamish, we need to try," said Tori. "So be prepared to work some serious hoodoo, 'Zulie."
"Got it, babe," Erzulie nodded.
"I gotta say," said Tori, "this case is progressing way faster than I expected. We're weeks ahead of schedule. Aunt Kim will be pleased; I can get to the Beck case that much faster."
The two monster hunters found themselves nearing the Muckle Men of Ronay Peak. The ring of enormous monoliths formed a ring on a stark peak overlooking the sea. The Muckle Men looked almost like a gathering of looming, grey-skinned giants waiting to devour Tori and Erzulie. Most of the village appeared to be crowded inside the Muckle Men. They stood around a bonfire that burned as high as the monoliths themselves. Creepily, every single one was wearing a mask depicting some sort of animal.
Tori and Erzulie crept into the crowd. They spotted a deathly pale woman with silver hair dressed in a soft green robe standing at the foot of a bonfire. Two burly men stood on either side of her carrying drums Another man stood directly behind her playing the bagpipes. As the musicians played, the crowd sang:
"When daffodils begin to peer,
With heigh! the doxy over the dale,
Why then comes in the sweet o' the year,
For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale.
The white sheet bleaching on the hedge,
With heigh! the sweet birds, O, how they sing!
Doth set my pugging tooth on edge,
For a quart of ale is a dish for a king.
The lark that tirra-lirra chants,
With heigh! with heigh! the thrush and the jay,
Are summer songs for me and my aunts,
While we lie tumbling in the hay."
"'The red blood reigns,' huh?" Erzulie scoffed. "The Moon's Daughter isn't exactly being subtle."
"You know how fucking arrogant the bloodsuckers are," Tori whispered. "Those idiots think they can say or do whatever the hell they want, and we humans'll always be too goddamn stupid to catch on."
"Mother Night!" the Moon's Daughter cried out as the hymn ended, holding a ceremonial bowl and dagger over her head. Her voice carried a slight Austrian accent. "Bless us alvays vith Thy unearthly magicks!"
"So mote it be!" called the masked villagers.
"Lady Moon!" the Moon's Daughter continued. "Smile upon every vomb in this village and fill it vith Thy power!"
"So mote it be!" the villagers called again.
"Horned King!" the Moon's Daughter proclaimed. "Fill all men in our village with Thy most potent seed!"
"So mote it be!" the villagers called.
"Grandmother Earth!" The Moon's Daughter shouted. "Let our fields grow bountiful and our harvests be blessed by Thy plenty!"
"So mote it be!" the villagers called.
"Bring forth the Maiden!" ordered the Moon's Daughter.
Some large, muscular men in ox masks nodded and dragged forth a young woman dressed in a sheer white gown and a garland of flowers. She appeared more than a little nervous.
The Moon's Daughter looked the Maiden in the eye. "Megan Swanson, thou art chosen to be the Night Maiden, who reneweth our covenant with Mother Night, Lady Moon, and all gods at this high holy day. From this night forth, thou dwelleth not with mankind, but in the company of gods and immortals. Dost thou accept this most holy charge?"
"I... do?" Megan mumbled nervously in an American accent.
"Then Bodhmall nic Ṛnaighach I do name thee!" The Moon's daughter proclaimed. She then used the dagger in her hand to cut the dress from Megan/Bodhmall's body. The young woman blushed furiously and desperately tried to cover her exposed breasts and vulva with her hands. "Come thee now vith me!" the Moon's Daughter declared as two of the burly men grabbed Bodhmall. The Moon's Daughter made her way out of the Muckle Men and towards Breanish Castle, Bodhmall and her ox-masked captors following close behind.
"Damn," sighed Erzulie. "That was messed up. And that's coming from a Voodoo practitioner; I've seen my share of weird rituals. Why'd the Moon's Daughter rename that poor girl?"
"That's what vampires do," said Tori. "They always give a fledgling a new name upon induction into a clan. Nic Ṛnaighach must be what she's calling the clan she's started up her. It means 'daughter of Ronay' in Gaelic."
"Did that seem like Drusilla von Wisborg to you?" asked Erzulie.
"She matched Great Grandpa's description pretty well," said Tori. "She certainly had the right accent. Well, got any good hoodoo magic we can use against her?"
Erzulie thought about it. "A few, but they all require getting our hands on a personal possession of hers. We could always poke around the Muckle Men and see of she dropped anything, or we could head straight to Breanish Castle and see what we can find in there. Just remember, if she really is Drusilla, then she's a seer and could find out what we're up to at any time."