Night of the Dark Horse (An Allegra Fairweather Mystery) (5 page)

“Did you recognize the kid?”

“I didn’t get a good look at him, but it must’ve been Liam Murphy. He’s the only kid around here of the same age and build. Does he have something to do with the pooka?”

“Maybe.” Especially if he turned out to be a fairy.

Chapter Three

Next morning, I borrowed Ronan’s car and set out alone to visit the graves. Casper had an early morning training session with Aedan, but he’d promised to join me afterwards. Feeling a bit lost without him, I followed Siobhan’s directions until I reached an enormous oak near a triple fork in the road. I pulled over and parked.

The sun was shining and a light breeze ruffled the leaves overhead. I didn’t regret leaving my jacket in the car. Jeans, a T-shirt and sturdy walking shoes kept me comfortable as I hiked through the woods. I’d been walking for twenty minutes when my toe started to itch. It does that when I’m near anything paranormal. Don’t ask me why. It’s something I was born with, like red hair. Over the years I’ve adhered to a rule that rarely fails me. When in doubt, follow my toe.

The itch led me through the woods increasing and decreasing several times before I smelled a strange odor. Not the sulfurous scent of the pooka, more like cigarettes or weed or the smoke from a pipe. I’d never smelled that particular blend before, but I had a pretty good idea who would smoke it. I mean, I was in Ireland and even though leprechauns usually slept under hedgerows there was no reason one might not prefer the woods. So I had a choice. I could creep by without disturbing him or find out whether he knew the location of the graves. This was his territory, after all.

He was curled up in the fetal position, sleeping soundly. Reddish brown hair curled around his ears, providing a sharp contrast to his coat of shamrock green. His face was heavily lined and deeply tanned as though he spent vacations in Spain. In one hand was a hammer. Between his lips, like a pacifier, was a beautifully carved pipe. On the ground beside him lay a silver sandal that my fashion-conscious sister, Lily, would have killed for. He stirred as I approached and opened one eye. Before he could run away, I grabbed his ankle.

“Feckin’ hell,” he said. Although leprechauns are a type of fairy, they can live happily in the human world without aging prematurely. He was fit, despite his wrinkles, and I had to keep a tight hold on his ankle to stop him from escaping. He blinked emerald green eyes and asked, “Who the feck are ye?”

“Allegra Fairweather.” I’d have offered him my hand if I hadn’t been so busy hanging on to his ankle.

When he realized he couldn’t wriggle free, he demanded, “What do ye want?”

“Information. I’m looking for some graves. Three close together and another more recent one farther away. Know where they are?”

He snorted. “Sure, and there are graves all over these hills. Unless ye have a name I can’t help ye.”

“The inscription on one of the headstones might have been Irish Gaelic.”

“And ye think that makes it unique? We’re in Eire, for feck’s sake.” The leprechaun looked at me as though I was a few coins short of a pot of gold. He puffed on his pipe and exhaled a stream of green smoke.

“So you know nothing about the graves,” I said, giving him a chance to ‘fess up.

“Aye, that is correct.”

Shame I didn’t believe him. In one swift movement, I released his ankle and leaped forward knocking him backward and straddling his chest. “If you know anything about those graves, you’d better tell me.”

“Or what?”

“Or this.” I ripped the pipe out of his mouth.

He yelped, “Feckin’ hell.”

“Hurts to be deprived of your favorite blend, doesn’t it?”

He grunted. “You can sit on me chest all day and night, but I don’t know anythin’ about those graves. However, if you’ll release me, I can offer you a pot o’ gold.”

“Oh please, that’s a load of crap for gullible tourists. But if you genuinely don’t know the location of the graves, I’ll settle for that pair of silver sandals. My sister would love them.”

His face reddened. He spluttered, so angry that at first he couldn’t form words. When he finally got his tongue under control, he said, “I make shoes for the delicate feet o’ fairies not human clod-hoppers. Now get off me.”

“Not a chance, buddy.”

He looked longingly at his pipe. “What can I offer in lieu of the graves? Let me see. How about a wish?” Did leprechauns’ wishes really come true? I had no personal experience, but if they did come true, I could heal Casper. The thought of bringing him back to peak fitness made my stomach flip with excitement.

“Okay, but I want
ten
wishes.” Might as well start the negotiation high. With ten wishes I could heal Ronan, bring some luck to Unlucky Aedan and—oh, there were so many lovely possibilities.

“Two,” the leprechaun offered.

“Eight,” I said.

“Three.”

“Seven.”

He snorted. “Ye’ll not find a leprechaun in all Eire who’ll give ye more than three. That’s me final offer. Take it or leave it.”

Hmm. “I’ll take it.”

“Good choice.” He held his hand out for the pipe.

“Wishes first.”

He sighed and grumbled, but when I refused to move, he deposited three smooth white pebbles into my hand. I got off his chest.

“Give me the feckin’ pipe,” he said.

“Oh right, here you go.”

After several deep inhalations, he asked, “Do ye know the rules of the wishes?”

“The usual, I guess. Can’t wish for more wishes, can’t wish for someone to fall in love with me.”

He nodded. “Love must be given freely.”

“Okay, I understand the rules. Have a great day.” I turned away. I had some graves to find.

“Wait,” he said, “there’s more. The wishes won’t work on my kind.”

“No problem. I don’t expect to meet any other leprechauns.”

“I meant the Fae.”

“Right, got it.”

He exhaled smoke in my face and went on. “The wishes aren’t strong enough to change the world. They’re only useful for small personal things. You could wish for you own house, but make it a modest one. Lavish wishes never work.”

Hoping that healing Casper couldn’t be categorized as a lavish wish, I said, “Okay, got it. Thanks, leprechaun.”

“My name is Padraig O’Shaunnessy.” He grinned showing tobacco-yellowed teeth. “Enjoy your wishes.” He exhaled an enormous cloud of green smoke. When it cleared, he was gone. I wandered back through the woods but my toe no longer itched. My detour to find Padraig had destroyed my sense of direction. It wasn’t long before I had to admit I was lost. I could’ve used a wish to find my way through the wood to the graves, but why waste a wish when you can summon an angel. By now he should have finished training with Aedan.

“Casper,” I called. “I might need a bit of help here.”

He took a long time to appear. In the past he’d done that to tease me, but teasing was no longer the reason for his tardiness. It was a relief to hear the beating of his wings overhead. He landed awkwardly and lost his balance. I steadied him with an outstretched hand. Usually he was able to remove his wings easily, but now they seemed to weigh him down. I turned around giving him privacy to shrug them off.

“How did the training session with Aedan go?”

“Not bad for the first time. He’s got more ability than I expected.”

“Think he’s got a chance of beating up Colum?”

“I’m training him to defend himself, not beat people up.”

“Then let me rephrase. Do you think he has a chance of ‘defending’ himself against Colum?”

“We’ll see.” He leaned against a tree. Not trying to look cool, trying to stay upright. “Why aren’t you at the graves?”

“Don’t you know? You’ve always kept tabs on me before.”

“It’s becoming more difficult. Allegra, I’m not—never mind.”

“Don’t tell me not to mind. It’s clear you’re not getting any better. Time to tell me the truth. After twenty years together, you owe me that much.”

He bowed his head. “You’re right. This isn’t easy to say. I’m growing weaker all the time. The Powers-That-Be want to retire me.”

“Forever? Not just temporarily, until you recover your strength?”

“Forever,” he confirmed.

I struggled to find a loophole. “You don’t have to agree. I mean, they give you a choice, right?”

“I’m no use as a guardian angel if I’m too weak to guard my morsub.”

What would I do without him? He was the best thing that had ever happened to me. Suddenly I was angry. “I won’t give you up. Not without a fight.”

He touched my cheek. “You won’t have a choice. One day soon, you’ll have to let me go.”

“We’ll see about that.” I dug the leprechaun’s pebbles from my pocket and said, “I wish—with all three wishes—that Casper regains his strength and is stronger and better and more wonderful than before.”

Seconds became minutes. I waited for the lines on his face to fade, for color to banish the gray of his cheeks. It was a long time before I admitted, “Stupid wishes don’t work.”

“Not on angels,” he said gently. “Didn’t the leprechaun tell you that?”

I opened my hand. The pebbles slid from my palm hitting the ground with dull thuds. Casper bent to retrieve them.

“Don’t bother,” I said. “They’re no use to me.”

He put them into my palm and folded his fingers around mine. “Keep them. They may come in handy. For the case.” He released my hand. “Stop pouting. You’re strong. You’ll survive without me.”

For the record, I don’t pout. But if ever a situation demanded pouting, this was it. The unhappy truth was that Casper’s weakness would only kill him if he remained with me. Once he got to Heaven, he’d be healed and live in paradise forever. I should’ve been strong enough to let him go, but I wasn’t. Not then. I said again, “I’ll fight for you.”

“You’ll lose.”

“Are you leaving now? Is this goodbye?”

“No. But it won’t be long. I’ll get weaker and weaker. I’ll stay with you as long as I can, but one day I’ll have to leave.” Refusing to let me dwell on our eventual separation, he said, “I’ve found the graves. Come on. They’re not far from here.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat along with all the words I wanted to say. There’d be a time for goodbyes later—unless I could figure out a way to heal him. Trust me, I was going to pull out all the stops.

Chapter Four

Three headstones, weathered and slick with moss, leaned as though they no longer had the strength to stand up. Siobhan’s enthusiastic weeding had cleared the ground so thoroughly the area around the graves looked bald. The upside was that the inscriptions weren’t obscured by vegetation. All three of the decreased seemed to have died during the seventeen hundreds. They shared the surname Maguire and a liking for Biblical epitaphs. I lost interest in the graves pretty quickly and turned to Casper. “Where’s the other one?”

He pointed through the trees and we set off—me striding out in front, him following as fast as his walking stick would allow him. The fourth headstone looked kind of lonely. Even the little posy Siobhan had left didn’t help, since it was now pretty dried up and shriveled. Still, the headstone itself was beautiful. It wasn’t crudely worked like the Maguires’, but had been created by a gifted artisan. As well as boasting a beautifully carved border of flowers, leaves and birds, the headstone had top-notch calligraphy—think plump letters with exotic loops and curls. Siobhan had been right about the language resembling Gaelic, but I knew immediately it wasn’t. Fae has a lot in common with Irish Gaelic, although the languages aren’t interchangeable. The first part of the inscription was a name:
Sharina
Levara
. That was followed by the word
lovely
or maybe
lover
. No,
beloved
, that was it. So, putting it all together I came up with the translation:
Sharina
Levara
,
beloved
mother
of
a
devoted
son
.

“This is very odd,” I murmured. “Everything points to this being a Fae grave, which is

impossible. The Fae don’t bury their dead outside Fairyland.”

“Maybe they made an exception,” Casper said.

“Because?”

He shrugged. “I’m not familiar with the ways of the Fae.”

I moved closer to the headstone, ran my fingers over the lettering. “Who carved this? A local craftsman? Or one of the Fae?” I pulled out my phone and took a photo of the headstone. I was taking some more pics from various angles, when Casper crash tackled me to the ground. “What the—?”

Something shrieked overhead. I caught a glimpse of black wings and yellow claws. Casper pushed my head down, shielding me as he swung his cane at the eagle. The creature shrieked again and retreated, soaring into the sky. It wheeled above the trees and then swooped in a death dive with us in its sights.

Casper said, “Run. I’ll take care of the eagle.”

“Not gonna happen.” Refusing to leave him to deal with the feral wildlife alone,

I grabbed his hand, hauling him to his feet and pulling him after me. We zigzagged through the trees, ducking beneath low branches and somehow avoiding the eagle’s lethal talons.

By the time we reached the Maguire graves, the eagle was no longer chasing us, but it watched from a perch high above. I was pretty sure it wouldn’t attack again unless we returned to the fourth grave. Was the eagle protecting that grave? Were the eagle and the pooka incarnations of the same fairy shapeshifter? Was that shapeshifter the devoted son of Sharina Levara?

Casper leaned heavily on his cane. “The eagle is watching us.”

“I think we’ll be fine so long as we don’t return to that grave.”

We headed back to the car. As I opened the passenger door for him, I notice he was shivering. Usually he wasn’t bothered by temperatures on earth, but his current weakness had made him more sensitive to hot and cold. Goosebumps covered his bare arms and legs. His T-shirt, shorts and flip-flops were more appropriate for Tahiti or Spain than the fickle weather of an Irish summer.

“You need new clothes,” I said. “We’re going to Dublin.”

“In the middle of a case?”

“We always shop in the middle of cases. Besides, you need something warmer.”

He protested. “It’s not worth spending your money on me.”

“You’ve never complained before.” Angels don’t have their own money, so any change of clothes has to be bought by their morsubs. “What’s the problem?”

Casper studied his flip-flops and refused to answer. Oh, I got it. This was about that whole retirement thing. Best not to think about that.

Channeling the positive, I said, “Come on. It’ll be fun.” I’m no shopaholic, but I enjoy buying things for Casper. When he hesitated, I got bossy. “Just get in the car.”

At a store in the Jervis Centre, I picked out several pairs of jeans, some shirts and a jacket for him to try on. Angels aren’t vain, so Casper wasn’t influenced by fashion. Refusing my offer to help him change, he took the clothes and headed for the fitting room. Not only did I miss out on getting a sneak peak at his butt, I had to endure the sales clerk’s endless small talk. I managed some monosyllabic replies until Radha—that was the name on her badge—suddenly asked, “What’s in your pocket?”

I hadn’t realized I’d been playing with the leprechaun’s pebbles, but there I was clicking them together like worry beads.

“Just some pebbles I picked up.”

“Seriously? Pebbles? Do you collect them or something?”

“Or something,” I said as Casper emerged from the fitting room looking...well, let’s say it was definitely worth the wait. The skinny-leg jeans showed off every muscle of his butt and thighs.

Even Radha was impressed. “Hhhhot,” she breathed. But Casper wasn’t too thrilled with skinny leg jeans. He claimed they were uncomfortable.

“You sure about that?” I asked.

When he nodded, Radha and I exchanged a disappointed glance. There was nothing we could do to stop Casper heading back to the fitting room to try a looser pair. He pulled the curtain closed again.

I sighed. “I wish I was a fly on the wall.”

Too late, I realized I was holding a wish-pebble.

The store ballooned around me, stadium-huge. Visual images bombarded me, as though I had a hundred eyes. I could see parts of the store I hadn’t even realized were there. Far below me, Radha’s head whipped back and forth, looking right and left as though she’d lost something. Since I was no longer standing beside her, I figured it was me.

Holy crap, the wishes
did
work.

Radha’s mouth moved, but I couldn’t hear a word she said. What the—? Flies didn’t have ears? Being a fly on the wall wasn’t going to be much fun if I couldn’t eavesdrop on conversations. Actually being a fly wouldn’t be much fun at all. And didn’t they have a seriously short lifespan? Like about a month max?

Returning to human form became a priority, but here was the kicker; now that I knew the wishes worked, I was reluctant to waste one to reverse the stupid wish I should never have made in the first place. Still, it wasn’t like I had many other options, and believe me I considered them all. Funny that although I had a fly’s body, I still thought like a human. Go figure. Anyway since I didn’t want to hang around in the fly’s body any longer than necessary, I reached into my pocket, intending to use a wish-pebble to get me out of this mess. Uh-oh. I didn’t have pockets!
Oh
,
bugger
.

Was I stuck in this stupid body with only a month to live? Even worse, Radha was reaching for the fly spray. I zoomed off the wall, and headed straight for Casper’s fitting room. Having a limited lifespan made me realize what was really important. I landed on the wall of the fitting room. Multiple images of Casper hit me like a drug. Oh yeah, I was in heaven. A fly on the wall might not be able to eavesdrop but it sure as heck could appreciate the sight of a hunky angel in his jocks.

Casper tensed. He looked up, a pair of jeans dangling from his hand. When he caught sight of fly-me, he rolled his eyes. He waggled a finger at me, his mouth moving. I think he was saying,
Naughty
,
naughty
. Then he scrambled into his clothes like a virgin bride. When he was dressed, he extended his hand to me as though I was a runaway bird. He didn’t need to offer twice. I flew down and settled on his finger. He transferred me to his shoulder and I sat there like a parrot on a pirate. He left the fitting room and returned the clothes to Radha. When she caught sight of me, she reached for the fly spray again.

“Don’t,” said Casper. At least I think that’s what he said. Anyway I didn’t wait for Radha’s response.

I zipped out of the store as though I was being chased by a hell-hound and kept going through the mall and out into the street, where I perched on the side of a building until Casper appeared. He caught sight of me and extended his hand. I flew down and settled on his index finger. His mouth moved. I thought he was saying,
Why
did
you
waste
a
wish
?

I tried to shrug my shoulders, which turned out to be impossible, so I settled for shaking my head.
Never
mind
, he seemed to say. He set off down the street, keeping the hand on which I had perched close to his chest, protecting me. As we passed a deserted lane, he turned into it. Instantly I saw the discarded paper bag bulging with a half-eaten hamburger. Did I want flies with that? The burger was crawling with them. I left Casper’s hand and joined them, walking over the burger and tasting first with the hairs on my feet, which was a totally weird and yet yummy sensation. I was enjoying my snack when a handsome male caught my eyes. One glance was all it took for him to fly over and land on top of me. Was he planning to mate?
Nooo
!

Suddenly the world tilted and I was standing beside Casper again. I did a quick recon of all my body parts. Yep, everything was in place. Most importantly, everything was human.

“Are you okay?” asked Casper.

Phew! I could hear again. “I’m fine, really fine.” I took a moment to enjoy being me again before asking, “How did you know the fly was me?”

“There was a tuft of red hair on your fly-head.”

“Very funny.” I punched his arm. It wasn’t a hard punch, but he winced as though I’d actually hurt him. “Sorry.”

“No problem,” he said too quickly.

“So how did you really know I was the fly? And don’t give me any more shit about the tuft of red hair.”

“I sensed it was you. It’s my job to know when you’re in danger, remember?”

“A fly almost mating with me certainly qualifies as danger,” I agreed. “How did you turn me human again?”

“More to the point,” he countered, “why did you wish you were a fly?”

“I didn’t, not really. I just said, ‘I wish I was a fly on the wall.’ It was pure chance that I was holding a pebble at the time. I didn’t even think the wishes worked.”

“Now you know, be careful.”

I reached into my pocket. Only two pebbles remained. “I can’t believe I wasted a wish.” There was going to be some serious head-to-desk action over that little mistake. “So how did you make me human again? Obviously you didn’t use a wish.”

“No,” he agreed. “The leprechaun gave
you
the wishes. Only you can use them.”

“So how come I’m human?”

“I overrode the wish. It’s something I can do to get you out of danger. But don’t get too complacent. I couldn’t have helped if you’d been sprayed or swatted.”

I shuddered at the thought. “I didn’t much like being a fly.” I shot a glance at the rotting food, which no longer smelled so good.

“Do you have a tissue?” Casper asked.

I produced one from my bag, which had magically reappeared when I returned to human form. Casper moistened it with saliva like a mother preparing to clean her kid’s face.

“Don’t,” I said brushing him away. “That’s gross.”

“Not as gross as the moldy pickle on your chin.”

“Ew. Get it off.”

“Stop batting your hands around,” he said. “Hold still.”

“Yes, Mom.” Not that my mom would have cleaned my cheek with saliva on a tissue. She’d have used an antibacterial wipe.

I remained perfectly still while Casper cleaned my face. When he was done, he suggested we head back to Dingaleen.

“Not gonna happen until we get your new outfit.”

Reluctantly he agreed to enter another clothing store. This time I didn’t even think of wishing to enter the fitting room. No more fly-on-the-wall stuff for me. I contented myself with watching him model different styles of jeans.

He still claimed the skinny leg jeans were uncomfortable, so although I liked the way they outlined his butt, I bought him something looser. I also purchased a new T-shirt, an all-weather jacket, socks, jocks and walking shoes. He really did look hot in his new clothes. I couldn’t help noticing the admiring glances from women we passed on the street.
Yeah
,
girls
,
you
can
look
,
but
don’t
touch
.
He’s
mine
.

On impulse I decided to stop by Siobhan’s gallery and check out her work. Who knew, it might somehow help with the case. Even if it didn’t, I might pick up something to hang in my Maui house, which had been a gift from a grateful billionaire client.

Siobhan’s paintings had a lot to do with myth and magic. One subject wore the floaty dress I’d seen on the rack in her studio, another wore the barbarian loincloth low on his hips. I was tempted by the prospect of owning the barbarian, but then I did have my own ex-warrior angel.

I stopped in front of a portrait called
Daydreaming
. Its subject was a boy of about eight, who had hair as black as a pooka and skin that was pale even for the Irish. His eyes were a kind of light brown almost golden. His features were delicate and his shoulders so slight he could’ve blown away on the breeze.

“You like it?” asked Siobhan, coming to stand beside me.

“Very much. It’s my favorite. Is that how you think the Fae would look?” I asked.

“No, he’s human. He lives in Dingaleen.” Folding her arms, she regarded the pic with a critical eye. “I wanted to call it
The
Changeling
, but the kid has it tough enough already. Sure, and he’s a good kid. A little weird, but we’re all weird in our own ways. I know I am.” She laughed. “I used to babysit him. Things were fine until he was about six or seven. He had a great imagination. Potential as an artist, too, if his parents would stop trying to turn him into an accountant. Not that there’s anything wrong with accountants. God knows, I’d be lost without mine. Still, you’ve got to have a talent for it, haven’t you? And Liam couldn’t balance the books to save his life.”