Emerald Isle (24 page)

Birdie said, “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”

Aedon stepped over to a service cart and poured himself a cup of tea. Offered Birdie some. She declined.

“The challenge, with Tallulah. I have a feeling I know who will emerge the victor. Not only between the two of you, but between your grandchildren as well.”

Birdie cringed.

Aedon rushed to say, “Oh, don’t get me wrong. All will be handled in the strictest sense of the rules. Only fair play, under my watch. I offer only one piece of advice.”

“What is that?”

“Just use everything you used against her the last time.”

Birdie nodded, understanding. Her phone chimed then, and she checked it. Chance was calling her.

How odd.

“Excuse me, Aedon. This could be important.”

Aedon said, “Of course.”

As Birdie hurried out the door, he called, “Just remember, Birdie, whoever wins the lead will be in charge of the quest. Your child’s life in their hands.”

As I lay on the muddy bank of the lake, I remembered that the goddess had told me to present an offering if I needed help from the Fae. She had said they liked sweets, so I reached into my pocket and tossed out a peanut butter cookie.

Instantly, I was sucked into the web.

I pried open my eyes to find Danu staring at me. “Hello, Stacy Justice. Have you found my cauldron?”

Pickle was sitting in a fluffy pink chair, eating his cookie. He smiled and waved at me.

I rubbed my throat, practiced a few deep breaths. “Not exactly,” I coughed. “I will, but I’m having some trouble.”

“What is the problem?” Danu was draped in a shimmery gown that changed colors with her every step, depending on how the light touched it.

“A spirit is trying to kill me.”

Danu frowned. “I was under the impression you were a necromancer.”

“Yes, well, apparently this one isn’t…er…romanced by me.” I lifted my head, pointed to my neck. “Are there marks?”

Badb crossed over to me, stroking a rabbit so white, it glowed. She was wearing a glittering black cape over a tight leather catsuit. She looked like one of the Avengers.

“They can touch you?” she asked, surprised, inspecting my throat.

“Yeah, it kind of freaked me out the first time it happened too,” I said.

The goddesses shared a look.

Danu said, “Unusual, but not unheard of. There is something.”

She crossed over to a wall of jars filled with potions. “Two drops of this, one in each eye, and no spirit will be able to touch you for one earthly sun rotation.”

One day. I took a deep breath. “Great. Thank you. For some reason, I can’t see the spirit either. Can you help with that?”

Badb said, “Why don’t you just use your sword?”

“How?”

She looked at Danu and was about to say something, when I interrupted.

“I swear, Badb, if you say ‘really, this one?’ one more time, you’ll never see that freaking cauldron again.”

She smirked and waved her hand over my sword. It sparkled to life. “It’s fully charged, always, so long as no one else ever touches it. Just wave it when the spirit is near, and the apparition will be visible to you.”

“Thank you.”

She answered with, “humph.”

Danu grabbed the potion. “It’ll sting momentarily, but that will pass.”

“Okay.”

She tilted my head back and dripped the juice from the vial into each eye.

“Aghhhhh! Holy nutfugget! That burns! A lot!” I rubbed my eyes furiously as I bounced around the room, searching for water to flush them out.

Danu said, “Perhaps it’s harsher on humans.”

“Aghhhhh!” I stomped my foot repeatedly until the pain subsided.

After what seemed like an eternity, I opened my eyes.

To nothing. I couldn’t see a damn thing. “Oh my god. Oh my God. You blinded me.” I was bumping into chairs, tables, and what was most likely Pickle, judging from the high-pitched scream and the peanut butter breeze that blew by me.

Danu said, “Do you think it expired, Badb?”

“What? What?” I screamed.

Badb said, “No. It’s an occasional side effect. She’ll be able to see when we send her back.”

Danu said, “All right, then. Ready to return?”

“Are you serious? I can’t see. You have to do something.”

Badb said, “Nonsense, you’ll be perfectly fine once your horse breaks through the barrier to your realm.”

“Horse? What horse? I’ve never ridden a horse.” Panic was setting in.

“Horses have the ability to pass seamlessly between worlds,” Badb said. “He’ll do all the work.”

“We have you to thank for it, really, Stacy Justice. After the snafu we hit last time trying to send you back, Pickle suggested this method.”

I heard the
clickety-clack
of hooves. “I’ve never ridden a horse,” I repeated, louder.

“Not to worry. The horse will take care of everything,” Danu said. “Lightning, meet Stacy Justice.”

Lightning whinnied.

I said, “Lightning? Wait a second. Do you have one named, I don’t know, Turtle or something?”

This made Badb groan.

Danu said, “Don’t be such a baby. Lightning was one of our first recruits, and when he heard your name, he became rather excited.”

Lightning pawed at the ground. Then he bit me.

“Ouch!” It was just a nip, not hard, but it startled me.

Then something flashed in my mind, a not-too-far-off memory.

I stepped forward, ran my hands along the body of the horse, and felt a familiar energy. “What does he look like?”

Danu described the ebony horse with the streak of white down his nose.

I couldn’t believe it. “Mini Thor?”

The horse whinnied and licked my cheek.

“I’ll be damned,” I whispered.

This was my first familiar. He had been a Chihuahua then, but I had released his spirit from being bound to me, and he had chosen to inhabit the body of a horse.

The goddesses hoisted me onto the horse that was my first familiar, and tucked my sword under my right arm.

A thought occurred to me then. “One more thing. What if the ghost tries to harm me by throwing things? He likes to throw things.” Like my own five-pointed star, for example.

There was a moment of silence.

Then Badb said, “Duck.”

“Duck? That’s all you’ve got? Duck?”

Five thousand years, and she tells me to duck?

I heard the slap of an ass and decided I should begin practicing their suggested defense strategy. I grabbed Mini Thor’s mane and lowered my head, sword clenched at my side, as we headed for the boundary line between this world and the other.

Chance had phoned Birdie six times in the last few hours, until finally she felt she had no choice but to lie to the lad.

Yes, she had told him, Anastasia was fine. She had had an allergic reaction to something she had eaten, and she was now resting comfortably. Birdie wasn’t sure if he believed her or not, but at least he stopped calling.

So now where was the girl?

From the description Chance had provided—the manner in which Anastasia had clutched her throat, stumbling, gasping—Birdie feared that what her granddaughter had told her earlier about an odious spirit was true. There was only one way to dispel such an energy, and it required a handful of dirt from an ancient graveyard. Luckily, there was no lack of those on the island, and Birdie had sent Lolly off to fetch some.

When her oldest sister returned, however, Anastasia still hadn’t, and the Mage challenges had already begun. Birdie had completed two rounds and was tied with Tallulah. Soon, the
Seeker contest would start, and without both Seekers, Aedon would have no choice but to call the games. Anastasia would be forced to forfeit.

Fiona was standing on the sidelines, monitoring the girl’s familiar. The dog was thoroughly spent. Birdie presumed he was worn out from tirelessly searching the area for his witch.

The loudspeaker roared to life. Elizabeth’s voice blasted through the air. “The next challenge is worth twenty-five points and will decide the match.”

Tallulah cast Birdie a sinister smile. Her grandson was suiting up behind her, his horse saddled and ready for the Seeker’s jousting match. Birdie and her sisters had every intention of preparing Anastasia for her contest, but the girl had simply vanished. Even if she were to return in time, she likely wouldn’t have an inkling of how to defeat Tallulah’s smarmy grandson.

The young man she was looking at didn’t seem like the same one who’d slouched in the Court of O’Conor earlier. Ethan was stretching, examining his jousting stick, checking the horse’s hooves.

He seemed determined. And that frightened Birdie.

Elizabeth unfolded a piece of paper and boomed, “Mages, here is your next challenge.”

Birdie looked up toward the tower where Elizabeth stood.

Elizabeth said, “Without bringing harm to the intended, you must coerce another to do your bidding. Explain the challenge before you proceed. Scores will be based on ingenuity, degree of difficulty, and lasting impact.”

Birdie swallowed hard and flicked a nervous glance to Fiona. She had no spell for bending another to her will. Her mother had taught her that such witchcraft was forbidden.

“Tallulah O’Conor will be the first challenger,” Elizabeth said.

Tallulah stepped into the arena, waved to the council watching from the confines of the castle, and grabbed the microphone perched on the stand near her sideline.

“My intended is Oscar Sheridan,” Tallulah said.

Birdie’s stomach lurched.

So that was her plan.

“Oscar met me only this morning.” Oscar waved enthusiastically from Tallulah’s side of the field. “But I will prove that the power at my fingertips can turn a man’s heart in an instant.”

Tallulah waved back to Oscar. “Come, Oscar. Declare your undying love for me.”

Birdie had never seen the man move so fast, not even in his prime. He scurried forward like a squirrel with a nut and joined Tabby.

She said, “Now, how will you prove your devotion to me, my darling?”

Birdie was not the least bit surprised when the twit she used to be married to bent down on one knee, produced a rock the size of Gibraltar, and proposed.

Incensed, but not surprised.

Tallulah shot a triumphant look at Birdie, then shifted her gaze to the top level of the castle, where the council was situated.

Her smile faltered, and Birdie turned to see that the remaining members of the council were not as impressed with Tallulah’s display as she had expected.

Tabby recovered instantly. That made Birdie nervous.

She watched as her nemesis said, “You have me nearly convinced, Oscar. However, I may need further incentive to trust your devotion.”

As if he had rehearsed, although Birdie knew that he had not, Oscar reached into his inner pocket, rose up, and stepped toward the microphone.

He said, “I, Oscar Sheridan, vow to offer all my worldly possessions to the council in exchange for the hand of this incredible woman.”

Betrayer!
Birdie thought. She nearly fell over where she stood.

Lolly did.

Birdie knew that the council needed money to operate. The work they did—protecting the ancient secrets of the island—was costly, and with Oscar’s real estate holdings in their possession, they might have the option to reach across the pond, set up a satellite headquarters in America.

Were they above bribery? She hoped so.

Birdie saw Fiona rise from her seat, and put a desperate hand to Thor’s collar, trying to lock on to Birdie’s gaze.

Birdie felt the heat on her face. She concentrated on Fiona’s stare.

What?
The question floated through her mind.

Fiona flicked her eyes to Thor, back to Birdie, then again to Thor.

The dog had a leg flung over his shoulder and was treating his private parts like they were a pair of lollipops.

Then Birdie saw the faint impression of the locket sewn into his vest.

The spell—the one she had performed back at the family home to pull Anastasia out of the web—penetrated her brain.

Could it be? Was that where her granddaughter had gotten off to?

Tabby stepped out of the arena to the thunderous applause of the council. An idea formed in Birdie’s mind.

Birdie watched as her old enemy walked off, a smug look on her face. Behind her, Ethan was already leading his horse into the pasture. She saw an attendant speak with him briefly at the gate.

Birdie knew this was her one shot. If she failed, she might lose her daughter—and her granddaughter—forever.

She took a deep breath, walked up to the microphone. She glanced one last time at her middle sister. Fiona nodded, not with certainty, but rather with hope.

Aedon’s words ran through her mind as she stood there, gathering her strength.
Use everything you did last time.

Well, that included honesty, didn’t it?

“I have a confession to make,” Birdie said in a steady voice. “My granddaughter Stacy Justice is a reluctant witch.”

She paused as the council mumbled in shock and awe. Aedon gave a slight, encouraging nod.

When the murmurs subsided, Birdie continued. “She always had faith in her family, but not much else.” Birdie looked right at Tallulah. “Especially not in being Seeker.”