The Skye Trilogy: Isle of Skye, Isle of Night, and Isle of Dawn. * Bonus: Scrumptious Skye Confections Cookbook* (9 page)

“We’re not going on a plane Willa,” Cecily said. “They probably are already watching the airports. No, we are going a more direct route thru a portal; this is not only the safest, but the best way to get us, shoes and all, to the Island."

“A portal?" I asked. “Ok and where is this magical mirror? Because in case you hadn't noticed, I may be on the short side, but this girl has some hips. There is no way I am slipping through a compact or anything.”

“We are going to use the mirror in your father’s office of course,” she answered

My dad’s mirror, for years I've badgered, joked, and made fun off his ridiculously huge mirror in his office. It stood upright at six feet tall and was at least four feet wide. It was large and somewhat obnoxious in the average size room. Now of course it all made sense, this must have always been their plan, to use the mirror that could become a portal for our safety.

“All right, so what should I pack?" I mused out loud, “Clothes, shoes, some of my old books, pottery. Are you sure we can take all of that?"

"No problem, the Guardians are very strong and fast. I’m sure they'll move everything through the portal in a matter of minutes.” Cecily said

“Hmm, maybe we can make a little cash with the whole vampire, portal moving thing. That would be a hell of a business enterprise. Dad, can you say cash cow?"

“It’s nice to know some things never change, including your, inappropriate humor,” my dad smiled

"Speaking of which, are the Gypsies or Fae easily offended? I’m just curious,” I asked with a grin

“I think we can safely say that there may be some cringe worthy moments ahead for your father and me,” my mother answered

“Great, something to look forward to,” I said. “I guess we should get started huh? Organizing, packing all that good stuff."

“Sweetheart, I think the best thing for you right now, is to get some sleep,” my mom said as she took my hand and led me back over to the couch.

"Sleep, are you kidding me? I’m pretty sure sleep is going to be a distant memory for a while,” I responded

"Here, lay down and just relax." Cecily said

“Are you pulling some magic spell crap on me?” I asked, “Because we need to evaluate our whole relationship. No more spells on Willa being the main topic of the discussion. Let’s call it a Magic Spell Intervention.”

“I promise this will be the last time I will ever put you under a spell again,” my mom said smiling as she softly chanted some words.

“You realize there is no way any spell is ever going to get me to sleep.” I said. No sooner did those words come out my mouth; I let out a big yawn, and I felt my body turn to sludge. “Then again...”

“Sleep Willa, I love you. Oh and I forgot to say thanks for the cake. It’s beautiful."

“Your Ahh welcome…” I said before my eyes shut and I drifted off to peaceful oblivion.

Chapter Five

Bright light was streaming through the living room windows as I slowly woke up the next morning. At first I was disorientated waking up on my parents couch. Soon memories of last night came flooding back to me. I laid there for a few minutes trying to wrap my head around everything. Vampires, Gypsies, Faeries, magic, all these thoughts and questions started swimming in my head as I stared up at the ceiling.

Time to face the day, I said to myself, as I swung my legs off the couch and pushed myself up into a sitting position. What I saw, was not, what I expected. Around the hallway into my dad’s office, there were boxes and luggage piled high. What freaked me out though was a small box floating through the air of the living room.

“MOM,” I yelled. “There’s a box floating in midair."

“Oops,” said Cecily as she came around the corner. “Now why is that not going on top of the other boxes?” she muttered to herself

“Probably because there’s no room or it’s confused as to where to go, like me right now."

“Good morning honey,” my mom beamed. “Your father and I have been up all night packing and getting things together. There are some blueberry muffins in the kitchen if you're hungry.”

“Mom, there’s a box...floating in the air and you're offering me muffins."

“Busy day sweetie. Good idea to eat when you can. Now I have already gone through your place and packed your clothes and shoes. I did leave out an outfit for you in your closet. I wasn’t sure about books or any other items so there are a few boxes for you over there."

I stood looking around and noticed how empty the space looked. Pictures, some of my parent’s pottery they collected and artwork were all missing from the area. “Where did all these boxes come from and how on earth did you get all my stuff packed? What time is it?"

"It’s almost nine o’clock. As far as boxes go, your father can conjure those up in a jiffy. I have been using a few spells to help me get everything organized,” my mom sighed. “I have to admit, it’s nice to be able to use magic again so freely. I can’t even imagine that I used to do this without it. Well, not entirely true, I always have used it to fold laundry and put it away because that’s one chore I hate doing."

“Ok." I wondered whether I would always feel like this. The village idiot, “I guess I’ll get a muffin and finish packing up my stuff."

“If you need help give me a holler. No need to go lugging around boxes when we can just float them over here."

As I walked through the kitchen and grabbed a huge blueberry muffin I realized, I did have one question, I needed to ask right away. It was a question that had been bothering me since last night. “Mom, how old
are you and Dad?"

My mom glanced up as she finished guiding the floating box to the top of the pile of boxes. “I am 150 years old. Your father is a bit older, he is 255. Of course, the Fae can live for centuries, millenniums even, by drinking faerie nectar but our clan of Gypsies? I’m not sure why we live so long. The average is anywhere from 300 to 450 years. Some say our blood is blessed, others say it's because of the magic that we use.”

That’s when I looked at her for the first time this morning. To say my mother always has looked young for age is an understatement, but this morning she looked a lot more like my older sister. Her face, which never had many wrinkles to speak of, was now completely void of them. Her cheeks were a bit plumper and rosier and even her hair looked more lustrous.

"I know you're going to get pissed at me for this but what the fuck? Did you conjure up a plastic surgeon overnight as well?"

My mom pursed her lips at the dropping of the f-bomb but to her credit answered. “Willa, we could hardly look like ourselves with a grown daughter, I mean, we’re supposed to be in our fifties. I have been using an age glamour on all of us, although in your case you’re still young, so I didn’t have to do too much…"

"WHAT?" I yelled as I ran into the dining room off the kitchen and looked into the large mirror over the sideboard. My face, which has always looked young, didn’t exactly look more youthful, but there were a few small differences. The perpetual bags under my eyes from getting up early and working twelve to fifteen hours a day for the past three years were gone. The small lines on my forehead and slight crow’s- feet that I saw I was getting but brushed off because I live in a sunny climate and squinting is part of life, gone, poof. Even my teeth looked whiter as I opened my mouth.

“On one hand I'm upset with you for putting some age spell on me but as long as we can agree that you will NEVER do that again or any other spell I can safely say I’m cool with it right now. Oil of Olay has nothing on you Mom,” I said still staring at myself in wonderment.

“Not so bad being our daughter, huh?" my father asked as he sauntered into the room.

My mom’s transformation had made me stumble a bit, but my dad’s pretty much had me stopping short. His dark hair was shiny and gone his smattering of gray hair at his temples and sides. His face was also wrinkle free and had a slight sparkly sheen to it. His mouth looked lush, and his cheekbones looked more defined this morning. All in all, my dad looked to be about thirty and remarkably handsome. I stood there with my mouth opening and closing like a fish. Then of course I had a thought. If my father could live a millennium where did that leave my mom and me? Would he live in his perpetually young state and see us grow old and die?

“I can see the wheels turning in your head Willa,” Cormac said, observant as always. I was close to both of my parents, but my dad was my best friend. He and I always were on the same page, sometimes even finishing each other’s sentences. It was no surprise he knew where my thoughts were heading.

“There are decisions that need to be made and soon, but nothing for you to worry about right now, ok?" he said as he walked over to me and gathered me into a hug. “Right now let’s concentrate on getting us all to safety. We will talk about the future later all right?"

I mentally and physically steeled myself. "All right,” I agreed. “Operation Anniversary Romance has turned into ‘Operation Let’s Get The Fuck Out Of Here Before We Are Killed’ is a go.”

“Willa you need to be careful of your language. Your grandmother is a little old fashioned. You may want to consider curbing your sailor mouth tendencies,” Cecily said

“No problem, I will try to watch what the fuck I say.”

“Yes, because we don’t want the shit to hit the fan,” my father added

“Very funny both of you please,” Cecily said exasperated

“I’m going over to my place. After I wash my mouth out with soap, I’ll finish packing. See you in a bit. Continue on with your magic woohoo stuff,” I said as I walked out the back door.

Slowly meandering my way through the back garden and around the small pool area I came to a stop to in front of my cottage. Funny, for the past seven years I had always called it my Fairy cottage. No wonder my dad got a kick out of that. Not only was it my home but it was my little sanctuary. Then it hit me. I would probably never be able live in it again.

As I walked in I soaked in the warmth that was my little home with my bright little kitchen with its white cabinets and brown granite countertops and my small cozy living room with its warm taupe walls and oversized furniture. Every color, every piece of furniture, every plate, I had picked out myself. Each little room was a small reflection of me, and I realized how I much I was going to miss it.

I walked down the short hallway, past my small office/laundry room and came to a halt in the doorway of my bedroom. The pale blue color on the walls contrasted nicely with my rich, dark chocolate bedspread but as I peered closer I saw the bedsheets had been stripped off already. A quick glance in my walk in closet revealed nothing but a bundle of clothes folded neatly on the rack, complete with a comfy pair of brown loafers. Apparently my mom didn’t think my usual staple, the flip-flop, was portal worthy.

Heading into my tiny bathroom, I took a quick shower. As I dried off, I ran a brush through of my long hair and applied my five minute makeup routine. I slipped on my soft pair of dark skinny jeans and a white embroidered peasant top. After a quick check of the bathroom drawers and bedroom side table drawer I saw my mom had been pretty thorough in her packing.

I headed into my office and noticed that my computer was gone as well as my iPad and Kindle. My dad must also have been in on the pack and go mission. I was a little irritated that my parents had helped themselves to my packing my stuff. I went back into the living room and saw the few boxes that lay there.

I picked one up and went into the kitchen. Although my mom packed her idea of essentials, I’m pretty sure; she missed a few of mine. Getting out several dish towels, I opened up a small drawer near my oven and took out my babies, my knives. When you start cooking and baking one thing, you realize you need and covet more than anything is good knives. Mine were pretty special to me, sounds weird yes, but if you are a cook, you get it. Carefully placing each one in the traveling sleeve of my knife case, I wrapped it up in a dish towel and placed it in a moving box.

I opened all my drawers and took out a few kitchen gadgets, some utensils, as well as a couple of special baking tools, like my pastry bags and tips. Next up was my massive ice cream bowl that my ex-boyfriend had given me for a Christmas gift when we were together. It was red and white striped with small candy canes on it, a little tacky, but I loved it.  A few special cups and my handmade trivets from the local Native American tribe also went in carefully. Soon enough, the box was filled and ready to be moved.

Feeling like I had accomplished something, I walked into my living room and took stock of my book collection. With the dawn of the new eBook age, I had pretty much given most of my books away. There were a few particular ones that I couldn’t part with, like my romantic poems books that were old and weathered, but I loved and all my Jane Austen novels. For some reason, I could never bring myself to donate them.

As I packed my small collection of books up, I came to the bottom shelf and noticed my yearbooks from High School and College. I started flipping thru the pages, laughing at some pages, smirking at others, especially those filled with Suzy and her annoying cheerleader friends. I also read the little things my friends had written through the years.

A small pang of regret reverberated through me when I saw those notes. I may not have been the most popular girl, but I did use to have a great circle of friends. Unfortunately, we all went our separate ways after High School, scattering all over the country. At first we tried to see each other in the summer but after a while some of my friends stopped coming home due to jobs or travel. We still "saw" each other on Facebook and sometimes reminisced, but it wasn’t the same.

My college friends, the same thing, even though I wasn’t a loser, I guess I always held back a little of myself from all of them. Maybe subconsciously I sensed that I probably never would see them again, and I was happy about that now. With evil vampires wanting to kill me, I’m glad I didn’t have to worry about a boyfriend or a roommate getting caught in the crossfire.

One person I was not willing to give up yet was Polly. I grabbed my phone and sat in my pile of memorabilia as I dialed the bakery’s number.

“Yummy Yuma Bakery, how can I help you today?” said Jon my bubbly cashier/ server

“Hey Jon, how’s it going this morning?" I asked

"O.M.G. Willa! I can’t believe it. When Polly told me you were going out of town for a few weeks I almost died. Traipsing to Ireland to see some long lost estranged family? Oh my goodness, I said. There is no way, no freaking way. You live, breath and sleep the bakery. I know it’s like for a funeral or something because someone died, but still, it’s good for you to get away!" Jon said enthusiastic as ever.

I burst out laughing. “Yes, it takes a death in my family that I didn’t even realize I had, to get me to take a vacation."

“Well, I for one am all for it. You don’t need to worry about a thing. Between Polly, Eric and I, we will keep this place running like well-oiled Chippendales machine,” Jon assured me