Shy

Image by Simon Wijers from Pixabay

They were lost. Maddy was now certain they’d gone off the trail. “I’m sure the party is just ahead,” she lied.

“I’m not so sure,” Kensie said. “There’s something in the
trees. I keep seeing movement.”

Maddy had seen it too, but to keep from scaring her sister,
she hadn’t said anything. “What is it?”

“I don’t know. Whenever I look, it’s gone.”

“It’s probably nothing. Come on, the sun’s going down.”
Maddy set off away from the sunset. If they kept going east, they’d eventually
reach Coillte, even if they missed the lake party.

“There it was again!”

“Where?” Maddy scanned the trees.

“Oh my god, what is that?”

Maddy followed Kensie’s shaking finger but didn’t
immediately see what she was pointing at; the tree was like all the others.

Except this one had a pale arm wrapped around it.

Ice formed around her heart. There were more too. The
peculiar spirits of the Wicklow Mountains. “The taibhse cúthail,” she
whispered.

“What?”

“Shy ghosts. I didn’t think they were real. Legend says they won’t come out while you’re watching. Don’t look away.” She scanned the forest and soon found more of them in front of her.

She needed to watch them, but the sisters had to get out of there before it got too dark. “Grab my hand. Don’t take your eyes off them.” She reached back and took Kensie’s hand, then hurried on.

“Maddy?”

“What?” she said without looking back.

“That’s not my hand.”

Maddy looked down at the pale hand gripping hers, and up at
her sister. The arm came from somewhere over Kensie’s shoulder. She locked
terror-stricken eyes with her sister’s as a second hand wrapped around Kensie’s
waist.

She felt an arm slip around her own midsection, then
something whispered in her ear.

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