The Gossamer Crown: Book One of The Gossamer Sphere (16 page)

The Isle of Wight

Felicity seemed like such a kind-hearted and wise woman, despite her familiarity with the shotgun, that her distressed pacing around the big room made Lizbeth uneasy.

“That horrible thing!” Felicity cried.  Lizbeth had never seen someone literally wring their hands before.

Zach leaned towards Lizbeth and asked quietly, “What, the crown?” but Felicity heard.

“
Yes
, the crown!  It ruined her life.  Everything she does is in service of that bloody crown.  I thought she was finally rid of it, but now you say it has enslaved her again-” She broke off, stomped around a bit more and then stopped in the middle of the room.  She inhaled and let it out slowly.

“If only we knew who had it, then the Cú faoil could help her find it.”

“What’s the Cú faoil?” Zach asked.

Felicity took another calming breath and said, “Let me tell you a story.”

Lizbeth was looking at Felicity and projecting an air of polite interest, but she suspected Zach had performed his signature eye-roll, because Felicity said, “Don’t fret, it’s a short one, and it might help you understand why Caitlin likes to go it alone.

“Wolfdogge’s kind are the Cú faoil, bred for their bravery in battle and cunnin’ at huntin’ wolves.  It’s said his ancestor was the Cú Sith, a monstrous, red-eyed supernatural dog from the Scottish Highlands, dreaded by all.  Me family’s been raisin’ these hounds for centuries. 

“Wolfdogge doesn’t need to get the scent off what he’s searchin’ for, you see, because unlike other dogs, he hunts by sight, and because of his ancestry, his sight is keener than what he can see with his eyes, if you know what I mean.

“The Cú faoil were bred for kings – by law, none other were allowed to keep them.  When he was a young man, Victor raised a fine specimen from a pup.  Ooch, how he loved that dog.  But the dog was meant to go to a noble household, and go it did.”

As Felicity’s “short” story stretched on, Zach shifted from foot to foot next to Lizbeth.

“The great estate that got the dog was nearby Victor’s ancestral lands, and the dog, well, he kept escapin’ his pen, much like Wolfdogge.  They’re hard to contain, they are, bein’ as how they’re so intelligent.  At any rate, one day Victor was leadin’ the dog back to its home when he saw a certain beautiful young redhead runnin’ across a field, chased by an armed man on horseback.  Victor didn’t know what she’d done, but he feared for her, and told the dog to attack.  It pulled the horseman from the back of ‘is mount midstride, for that’s what they were bred to do in battle, don’t you know. 

“The nobleman was furious, as it turned out Victor had set his own dog on him.  ‘Get her, you fool, she’s a thief!’ he shouted, but when Victor set the dog to follow her, it went barkin’ after a poor sheep mindin’ its own business in a nearby field.  Victor had never seen the dog do such a thing, and the nobleman thought it had gone daft and told Victor to take it back, which he was quite pleased and willin’ to do.”

Lizbeth noticed that Zach was no longer fidgeting.  He’d given Felicity his rapt attention.

“All that week, Victor thought of nothin’ but the beautiful girl, wonderin’ who she was, what she’d done, where she’d gone.  He was so besotted that he even sketched her likeness, rememberin’ every detail of her face and hair.  Then he sat with the dog and showed it the drawin’ and set it the impossible task of huntin’ the girl down.”

Felicity went into the kitchen and began washing dishes as if she’d finished the story.

“Is that it?” Zach asked.

“Well, you know me great-grandfather and Caitlin ended up together,” Felicity said, and Lizbeth saw her lips curl in a devious little smile.

Zach yawned and ran a hand through his hair.  “What’s the point of the story, though?”

“The point is:  Wolfdogge can find anyone.”

“And Caitlin knows it,” Kevin said.

“Exactly.”

“So why didn’t she take you up on your offer to have Wolfdogge help her?” Lizbeth asked.

“As I said, the Cú faoil are sight hounds,” Felicity replied.  “It’s a special kind of sight, but they need to know who to look for.  Caitlin wouldn’t be likely to ask for help anyway, for the same reason she’s gone and left you three here with me.  She knows how much I love Wolfdogge and wouldn’t want to put him in danger.  The stubborn wretch.  Please understand that Caitlin has seen so many of her friends and family die, many of them to violent ends, like-”

She stopped and concentrated on scrubbing a dish that looked perfectly clean to Lizbeth.

“Like Victor?” Kevin asked.

“No.  Me great-grandda was an old man when he passed.  Caitlin stayed with ‘im ‘til his final hour, aging herself to match him wrinkle for wrinkle.”

Lizbeth had a feeling she knew who Felicity had been about to mention.  “How did my father die?  Mom told me it was in a car crash.”

Felicity bobbed her head up and down several times.  “With the crown at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, she was finally free of that crushin’ obligation.  Then they began salvagin’ Titanic, and she became obsessed with findin’ it before anyone else, for obvious reasons.  She asked your da to help her.  He did die in a car wreck, on his way to the airport.  Your mother never forgave her.”

“Mom told me she was dead.”

“I’m not surprised.  I’m sure your mother had her reasons, but I still remember how she treated your granny, her own mother, at the weddin’.  Your granny dressed herself in a perfectly lovely gown, quite colorful, it was.  I overheard your mother beratin’ her, shamefully, about how her choice of dress was too flamboyant.  And this from a daughter of the fae.”

“What do you mean?” Lizbeth asked.

“Caitlin was certain your granny’s got a bit o’the blood in her.  Makes you extra special, I think.”

Lizbeth thought about her grandmother, recalling the other evening when Granma, too, felt the electric sensations from the aurora.  Granma had always said Lizbeth was destined for great things. 

She looked over at Zach, who’d picked up a dishtowel.  He selected a plate from those Felicity had set in the rack.  As he dried it, he asked, “When Caitlin mentioned to you that something had been stolen, didn’t she say it could stop the destruction?  Wouldn’t that tell you what it was?”

Felicity’s lips puckered in offense.  “Not at all, young man.  The crown has no other power but to turn ordinary souls into fae folk.  None that I’m aware of, that is.”

Lizbeth felt sorry for Zach as he sputtered an apology, but Felicity’s good nature prevailed and she said, “Never you mind.  We all know Caitlin keeps to herself.  If she withheld information, we’ll just assume she felt she had a good reason.”

After the dishes had been washed and dried and the food put away, Kevin mentioned he was famished.  It was the sort of awkward thing Lizbeth had come to expect from him.  When he’d eaten and his dirty dishes were resting unwashed in the sink, Felicity assigned them each a place to sleep.  Kevin got the couch, where he’d taken his restorative nap.  Zach got an inflatable twin mattress that was too short for his height and was located in a spare bedroom jam-packed with junk.  Lizbeth, to her discomfort, was told she’d be sleeping next to Felicity in her musty queen-sized bed.  It was apparent from Felicity’s casualness about the arrangement that she didn’t see any reason why Lizbeth would balk at bunking with her.

“Here’s a nightdress for you, dear,” she said, handing Lizbeth a long, white cotton gown.  “The loo’s right through there.”

Lizbeth took the opportunity to take a quick shower. When she removed her jeans, she felt something in her pocket and remembered Kevin’s nugget.  She’d tucked the little box Felicity had given them into her pocket for safe-keeping.  She pulled it out and set it on the back of the toilet, then turned on the bath faucets, adjusting the hot and cold until the water was comfortable.

She hadn’t ever really gotten a good look at the nugget.  Figuring there was no harm in looking, she lifted the box and flipped the tiny hook.  The lid came open faster than she’d anticipated, and the box slipped between her wet fingers.  In a reflex reaction, she jerked her hand to keep the box from falling and the nugget popped out.  Her free hand shot out and caught it before it dropped into the open toilet bowl.

With shaking hands, she placed the nugget back in the box, fastened it, and set it back down before closing the toilet lid and stepping under the shower spray.  She scrubbed her hand with a bar of Felicity’s sweet-smelling soap until it hurt.

Once she joined Felicity under the crisp white sheets, she laid face up, stiff and uncomfortable until the old woman began to snore softly.  Even then she couldn’t relax, not because of the incident in the bathroom, which she’d firmly blocked from her thoughts, but because her mind insisted on poring over the other events of the day.  Not that she blamed it. 

So much had happened.  So much had changed, illustrated by the fact that Zach had been in a life-or-death struggle today and they hadn’t even talked about it.  And who knows what would have happened to Kevin if they hadn’t realized the nugget was making him sick?  The truth was, while she was safe in this strange bed, people all over the world were
dying
.  Lizbeth, Zach, Kevin – any one of them, or all three at once, could be next.

Caitlin was out there trying to carry the weight of the whole world on her shoulders, while the three of them just…waited.  Suddenly it became essential that she convince the others to go find Caitlin.  What if she was in trouble?  Were they going to just passively wait for her until the world ended?

Lizbeth slipped out from under the covers and made her way down the dark hallway to the spare bedroom.  The door knob made clicking noises and the hinges squeaked as she entered.  She stubbed her bare toe on a box and swore under her breath.  She heard the soft sound of Zach’s laughter.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

She shut the door and felt her way in the dark to the mattress on the floor.  It was chilly in the room.  “If Caitlin isn’t back by morning, we need to go find her.”

“I know.  I was just thinking the same thing.  Is that your teeth chattering?  Sounds like you’re typing on a keyboard.  Come here.”

She moved closer and felt his hands at her hips.  He guided her down onto the mattress and tucked her under the covers.  She lay on her side with her back to him and he snuggled close with one arm around her mid-section.

“I’m just going to sleep,” she said, although she knew he didn’t need the clarification.

“Well, whatever you’re wearing would make anything else impossible.”

She giggled a little and relaxed into the warmth of the cocoon they’d created.

“Goodnight, Lizbee.”

She didn’t even ask him where he’d come up with Granma’s nickname.  “’Night.”

The Isle of Wight

When he woke the next morning, Zach knew right away he’d slept in one position all night.  He couldn’t feel his right arm at all, and a slight turn of his head told him he had a crick in his neck.  Lizbeth had rolled towards him at some point and was sprawled all over him; her head rested on the numb arm, her hand was on his chest and one leg hooked around his legs.  As soon as he realized that in order for her leg to get that way, her nightgown must’ve ridden way, way up, he decided he’d better sever all contact and find a cold shower – fast.  She obligingly rolled away when he tried to extricate himself, and he was glad, since he hadn’t known how he was going to get the dead limb out from under her.

He shook his arm and flexed his fingers as he walked down the hall, soon discovering that Kevin had beaten him to the bathroom.  It looked like that cold shower was a reality whether he liked it or not.

Once he’d finished up and redressed, he headed for the main room, passing Lizbeth in her white nightgown on the way.  She gave him a shy smile and he returned it.  He hadn’t so much as kissed her, but somehow it felt like so much more had happened between them.

“Mmm, something smells good,” he said as he entered the kitchen.

Felicity glanced up.  “Eggs and sausages.”

He sat at the table across from Kevin and studied his face.  The whites of his eyes were almost normal.  “Dude, you used up all the hot water.”

“That’s not his fault,” Felicity said.  “The water heater is old.  We should be grateful the plumbin’ hasn’t burst with all these earthquakes.”

Zach was grateful Felicity didn’t say anything about Lizbeth sleeping with him.  She had to have noticed Lizbeth’s side of the bed hadn’t been slept in.  They were lucky Felicity hadn’t panicked upon finding her missing and searched the house for her.  Just thinking about it made his face burn.  He wanted to tell Felicity that nothing had happened, but there was no way he’d do it in front of Kevin.  Not that he wanted Kevin to think that something
had
happened.  He just didn’t want him to know at all.

Lizbeth came out just as they were digging into the hearty breakfast Felicity laid before them.  “Just eggs and sausages” turned out to include potatoes, brown bread, fresh strawberries and a rich coffee with heavy cream.

Over breakfast, Lizbeth broached the subject of finding Caitlin.  To Zach’s surprise, Felicity was all for it.

“I assume you know where she went?” she asked.

“Sure,” Zach said.  “Simon’s house.”

“And where exactly might that be?”

Zach looked at Lizbeth; she shook her head.  He looked at Kevin, who shrugged.

“Ahh, well, we…were there, but none of us knows how to get back or what the address is.”

“That settles it, then.  You’ll be taking Wolfdogge,” she said with a finality that did seem to settle it.

Once they’d eaten, Zach sat at Felicity’s computer and opened Seamus the Bard’s website.  He’d lain awake last night, holding Lizbeth, thinking about how awful it would be if she died and trying to come up with some other way to stop the sphere.  What if the crown was lost to them forever?  Were all of Caitlin’s abilities—the shapeshifting, the mind-reading, the electrical bursts that came in so handy whenever they needed to steal a car—useless without the crown?  Would the whole quest be a waste of time if they couldn’t find it?  He thought not.  What was the point of them having all these impossible powers if they couldn’t use them to shut the sphere down?  He’d formed a nebulous plan after Lizbeth’s breathing became soft and regular in sleep.  Caitlin may have spent her long lifetime keeping her secrets, but maybe it was time to abandon that mindset.

On Seamus’ home page, Zach read the lines below the prominently displayed heading, “Children of the Boar:  Cast off your Shrouds and Come Forth.”  The message was short and cryptic:  “The age of hiding is done; the time for action is nigh; we must come together as one; Sound the battle cry!”

He clicked on Seamus’ link labeled “Contact Me,” made note of the email address, and opened his own email provider.  Felicity was bustling around preparing for their departure, so he had to hurry, but he’d already mentally composed his message:  “Dear Seamus, you probably won’t believe this, but I’m in England right now with the last Noble looking for the crown.  It was stolen from her a long time ago, probably by the Guild.  It’s the only thing that can stop the gossamer sphere.  Can you help us?  Do you know of anyone who claims to be the descendant of a real shapeshifter?  Please answer ASAP.  Zach.”  He included a link to his YouTube page and after a brief pause to consider the ramifications of going behind Caitlin’s back, hit send.

Felicity gave them all the cash she had on her and brought Wolfdogge in from his kennel.  The dog looked to Zach to be as tall as a Shetland pony.

“Here’s his food,” she said, handing Zach a heavy knapsack.  “Be sure he has access to plenty of water.  There’s a picture of Caitlin in the bag.  Show it to him once you get across the Solent, tell him to ‘find,’ and be sure to keep a tight hold on his leash.”

Wolfdogge sat calmly by his mistress, tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth.  Zach said, “I don’t get it.  We’re going to have to take a taxi-”

“He’ll tell you which way to turn,” Felicity said.

Despite her assurance, he remained skeptical and hoped the dog didn’t turn out to be one big hairy, slobbery obstacle.

“If he can find Caitlin that easily, why can’t he find the crown?” Lizbeth asked.

“Even if a picture of the crown existed, he can’t find things, just people.”

Zach thought about his laptop with the digital image he’d created.  It was either at the bottom of the sea, or floating in the burnt-out hulk of
The Gossamer
.

“It was silvery, and had,” he said, walking around one of the huge wooden posts in the living room, “one of these in the center of it.”  He tapped his knuckles on a triple-spiral symbol carved into the age-darkened wood.

“The Celtic triskele?”  Felicity looked impressed.  “It’s one of the oldest symbols there is.  Scholars have speculated for centuries, but no one really knows what the symbols represent.”

Lizbeth came to stand next to Zach.  She ran her fingers over the spirals one by one.  “I feel like I should know what it means.”

“Ask Caitlin,” Felicity said.  “When you find her.”

The morning was cold, the sky an unnatural brownish grey.  Tiny particles floated in the air; drifting volcanic ash.  Lizbeth had borrowed one of Felicity’s jackets, but the old woman had nothing suitable for Zach or Kevin.  After hugging them each as if she’d known them all their lives, she put them in Caitlin’s car.

“Drive carefully,” she said.  “Caitlin was afraid to be on the road in this car for good reason.  Griffey recognized the plates, so you must assume the police are lookin’ for it.”

Since Caitlin had the keys, they had to do their car-starting trick.  Kevin drove, but only because he’d spent marginally more time in England than the others, which somehow made him more qualified to drive on the wrong side of the road.  Zach sat in back next to Wolfdogge, who reeked of that pungent doggy odor, and his breath smelled like the sausage Felicity had snuck him for breakfast.  At least he was well behaved.  Zach petted him tentatively, and never once did the dog try to lick him on the face, even though they sat eye to eye.

The ferry ride was uneventful, but getting a taxi driver to agree to take what amounted to a small
horse
along proved more difficult.  The only taker was a friendly Indian man who lavished attention on Wolfdogge as soon as he saw him.

Zach felt like a complete idiot showing the dog the picture of Caitlin, but he surreptitiously held it up for Wolfdogge to see as soon as the driver asked them where they were going.  Nothing seemed to happen.

“Do you have an address for me?” The driver repeated.

Lizbeth, sitting in the front seat, suggested Zach roll down the window so the dog could get some air.  As soon as Zach complied, Lizbeth said, “Find!” and Wolfdogge thrust his head out and barked.  His nose pointed east.

“We don’t have an exact address, but we can direct you, if you don’t mind,” Zach said.

“Whatever you say,” the driver said in his heavy accent.

Just before every turn, Wolfdogge let out one bark and stiffened his body like a hunting dog giving away the location of its quarry.  Several times he threw himself across Zach and Kevin to get to the opposite window.  Zach kept intercepting amused looks in the rearview mirror from the driver, who said, “That’s one smart dog.  He knows the way home, doesn’t he?”

It was a long drive, but the landscape finally began to look familiar to Zach.  When they pulled up in front of Simon’s house, he looked at the scruffy dog sitting next to him and shook his head in amazement.  They paid the driver and got out.  As the taxi drove off, Wolfdogge began to pull on his leash and whine.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have come right up to the door,” Lizbeth said, sounding nervous.

The house was silent; the only sound the cawing of a nearby raven.

It sounded to Zach like the bird was saying, “Cú faoil, Cú faoil!”

At the end of the leash, Wolfdogge became more insistent.  Zach was strong, but the dog began pulling him toward the house.  Then the front door flew open and Caitlin appeared on the step.  Zach was so startled to see her looking pleasantly inquisitive that he relaxed his grip enough to allow Wolfdogge to pull free.  The dog bolted away, but instead of throwing himself at Caitlin, who stood twenty yards away, he disappeared around the side of the house.

“Zach,” Lizbeth said quietly, with warning in her voice.

“I know,” he replied.  “But we need to find out where she is, so let’s smile and pretend we’re happy to see her.”