“Do we really have to get up?” I asked, running my hand over Gavin’s muscular chest just a few inches from my face.
A soft laugh rumbled through his throat. “Your friends are up. They’re about to head downstairs for breakfast.” He laughed again. “They’re making bets on when they see us this morning. Candace says not until 10:00 am, and Ronnie…well, you don’t want to know what he just said.”
I felt my face blush. “Seriously, you can hear them?”
“Seriously, I can hear everyone in the building. The Russian couple downstairs, the Americans trying to get their children ready across the hall. All of them.”
“That’s crazy. Isn’t it completely annoying?”
“I can always dial it back if I want to. So, are we getting up?”
I twisted my head to face him. Staring into the amber flecks in his brown eyes, I wanted to stay where I was, but we had to travel to County Limerick and find Sara.
An hour later, the four of us climbed into a small Opel sedan to begin our trek. Ronnie climbed into the right side to drive, and Candace sat beside him, with Gavin and I in the back seat.
She fastened her seatbelt and slid her seat forward to make room for Gavin. “This is a tight fit. Are you sure we shouldn’t get a bigger car?”
“The roads are incredibly narrow—this will feel huge very soon,” Gavin said.
Ronnie mumbled, “Wow, this sucks. Everything is on the wrong side.”
“I’ll be happy to drive, Ronald. We’d probably be safer,” Candace countered.
Ronnie shot her a quick look and cranked the engine to life. “Fat chance. You’ve never actually driven a car.”
“Did Gavin erase your mind? I own a car—drive it every day.”
“A Miata, please…” he said, putting the sedan in drive. “It’s not really a car if you can run slalom through a picket fence. When we rent something that runs on nine volt batteries, you’ll be first on the list.”
Candace snorted, trying not to laugh.
Curving and lined with rock walls, Killiney Hill Road felt incredibly narrow, and with Ronnie focused more on the gearshift than the light traffic, the road seemed even smaller. Gavin was right. We wound our way through the crooked streets to the first roundabout.
“Oh, fun. This is nuts,” Ronnie said.
“Just keep to the left. You’ll be fine,” Gavin said patiently. “Turn left at the first street. That will take you to the M50.”
“Is it wider? Please, tell me it’s wider.”
Gavin laughed. “It’s a dual carriageway.”
“A what?” Ronnie asked.
“A major four-lane road.”
I only began to relax when we drove out of the city thirty minutes later. We crossed a reservoir on the M4 and I sensed the Sidhe on the boundary of their territory.
“Should I cloak us?”
“No, they’re expecting me,” Gavin said.
Seconds later, I felt two of them streaking toward the car. Silently, and in their language, Gavin identified himself and said that we travelled there to meet Dana. Gavin softly grabbed my hand when they began compelling Ronnie, forcing him to exit the road onto a narrow street. It was Gavin’s way of silently telling me to play it cool.
“Ronnie, where are you going?”
“Candace, it’s alright,” I said.
She looked over her shoulder just long enough to study my face. She nodded, and looked helplessly at Ronnie. I knew the Sidhe were watching our reactions and ready to compel us if we interfered. Ronnie stared ahead, never acknowledging anything had happened. He drove us into the small town of Celbridge and turned left. We passed colorful buildings on one side of the road and a rock structure on the other that reminded me of a castle wall. I expected Ronnie to pull over, but instead he found a narrow lane and drove out of town. Despite the solid white divider line down the middle, it was no wider than a single lane, with walls, trees and poles next to pavement. Eventually, the walls of stacked stone gave way to hedgerows as we entered the countryside. I might have enjoyed the scenic drive, were it not for the circumstances—two new Sidhe joined the two that escorted us.
“Do you know where…” Candace began to ask.
“No,” Gavin said quietly, cutting her off, “but we’ll be fine.”
The further we drove from Dublin, the more the weather changed. The bright blue sky disappeared behind a thick veil of swirling gray as the miles rolled by. Just as it started to spit drops of rain, we turned left into wooded area, and past a sign that read Donadea. A tollgate opened so Ronnie didn’t even have to slow down. The moment he parked the car, the Sidhe released him.
“How did we get here?” Ronnie asked, spinning in the seat to face me.
“You were compelled.”
“What? I don’t remember a thing.” He paused a moment. How long?”
“About thirty minutes,” I said.
“If it’s any consolation, your driving improved,” Candace goaded him before grabbing his hand.
“Funny. Next time, you drive.”
I interrupted their exchange and asked a question I already knew the answer to. “Gavin, what do they want us to do?”
Gavin stared past the parking lot and into the trees. “Follow me.”
We walked into the woods and passed the ruins of a castle. Under the darkening sky it seemed like a lonely place, made all the more ominous as other people in the park walked past us. The Sidhe compelled them to leave—I could feel it. They commanded Gavin to lead us to a lake. None of them took physical form until the last visitor left. Only then did the first Sidhe appear as a sleek black horse with burning yellow eyes.
Candace muttered, “Phooka,” under her voice.
“Phooka?” I whispered.
“Irish legend, dozens of variations, but generally, they’re not good. There are stories about them tormenting farm animals, destroying property, and luring children to their deaths. In some counties—“
“Okay, I get the picture,” I said cutting her off.
“Sorry, too many summers in Mom’s store with nothing to do but read.”
“Why not read what other girls read?” Ronnie whispered.
“What? Sparkly vampires? Like that would help us in the real world.”
Gavin shot us a quick look with an unmistakable message: be quiet.
Several Sidhe stood at the edge of the lake fifty feet away, staring at us. “Why do you travel with humans?” one asked silently.
“Does it matter? I’m here at the request of Dana.”
Gavin’s tone was more combative than I expected, and it made me nervous.
“Dana will not see them. You may proceed after you have sent them away.”
It occurred to me that I recognized the Sidhe from when I projected on the freighter. Devin called him Drusk. He hadn’t been particularly happy to learn that the Ohanzee were sending an envoy.
“That isn’t possible. They are travelling with me,” Gavin said.
“So the rumors are true. Which of them is your pet?”
Gavin maintained his composure, but I sensed his anger. “I allowed you to bring us here out of courtesy. We’ll be on our way.”
Gavin’s cocky reply shocked me to the point I had trouble hiding my emotions. It caught the three remaining Sidhe off guard, too. They took physical form in the trees around us and channeled energy.
“It is the brunette, isn’t it? She is quite beautiful…for an ape.”
“Are you done?” Gavin asked calmly.
“No, I am not. The invitation was for an Ohanzee representative—you are not an Ohanzee. If you want to meet with Dana, I will permit it, but you’ll send the primates back to Dublin and do exactly as I say. Mind you, Gavin, I would be within my right to destroy you and the girl for violating the edict.”
Gavin turned to me and spoke aloud. “I believe Dana would like to hear what she has to say, Drusk. I know Sara will. We’re going to leave. I suggest you return to your post.”
“Dana hasn’t spoken to
one of them in two-thousand years.”
“She’ll speak with Maggie O’Shea,” Gavin said.
“Why is that?”
Again speaking aloud, Gavin said, “Maggie, show him why Dana might want to speak with you.”
I formed a sphere of blue St. Elmo’s Fire in the palm of my hand and let it roll onto the ground in front of us. I multiplied its size and fashioned it into a horse, mirroring Drusk’s shape. Drusk created a tube of Water and thinned it out until it reminded me of a rope. He slung it around the neck of my plasma stallion like a lasso and attempted to disperse the energy. With a little concentration, I converted the energy to Quint. The glowing orange horse broke through Drusk’s rope, trotted up the shore and reared up in front of him. The Sidhe were shocked, conversing among themselves, completely unaware that I could hear every word.
With the Drusk’s undivided attention, I smiled and let the Quint dissipate.
“She is the descendent of Áedán,” Gavin said.
Áedán’s name affected them like a Taser. After several seconds of awkward silence, Drusk relented. “Very well.”
* * *
The Sidhe returned to their posts, drifting out of my range before we’d driven out of the parking lot.
“That was so impressive,” Candace finally said, breaking the silence.
“It would have been more impressive if I could have created Aether.”
“It’s a combination of the Cardinal elements, right?”
“I keep forgetting you read my journals. I keep forgetting that you read everything. Yes, to answer your question, it is a combination.”
Candace spun in the seat and faced me. “You’ve tried the simple combos, right?”
“Yes. All I get is a white light, and other than being bright, it doesn’t do anything.”
“How do you know you’re supposed to combine it?” Gavin asked.
“My great, great—however many greats—grandfather, Pete, kept a private journal. I found it and read about astral projection and Aether. He witnessed Ozara playing with it.”
“And?” Gavin asked.
“And there were pages missing,” Candace said.
Gavin studied my face.
I nodded. “It’s true. Two pages were removed. They’re lost.”
He shook his head and stared out the window. “If the pages were hidden in the cottage, they were probably destroyed by the fire.”
“I know, I thought about that,” I said.
“And there was nothing in the remaining pages that helped?” Gavin asked.
“No, it was written years afterwards. The date on the next page was 1935 or something, but that didn’t make sense. Grandpa Pete died long before 1935.”
“I didn’t know that,” Candace said. “Oh my gosh…it all makes sense.”
“What makes sense?”
“Do you have Pete’s journal with you?”
“In the trunk. Should we pull over?”
“Not necessary. After the missing pages, the reference wasn’t 1935—it was Summer 1935.”
“Yeah, sure. Where are you going?”
“The Garden Journal,” she said, smiling.
“Okay, I don’t get it.”
Candace raised an eyebrow and cocked her head to the side, looking at me like I was an idiot. “The person who removed the pages, wrote the date…”
“Alright …”
“That person was probably your great Aunt Lola, who happened to write a journal of her own. You said she kept a yearly record. I bet you’ll find what you’re looking in the Garden Journal.”
“That makes sense. She had Pete’s Journal in 1935. But there is a slight problem.”
“What?” she asked.
“I don’t have the journal. I did have it, but I didn’t think I’d need it. I gave it to Mom to keep safe just before we left the Weald.”
She stared out the windshield, “This is my fault. I should’ve figured it out sooner.”
Gavin laughed. “Once again, I see why Maggie insisted on bringing you, but relax. It won’t be a problem. After we meet with the Sidhe, I have to return to the Weald. I’ll take a look at the journal before I come back. You’ll have your answer tomorrow night—the day after tomorrow at the latest.”
I smiled despite the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that something would go wrong.
“I could use some help with the next problem,” Ronnie said, looking up and down the road in both directions, “I have no idea where we are or how to get back to the M4.”
“We’re not going that way. Turn right. Now that we’re in Sidhe territory, we can head south from here.”
Ronnie shook his head. “Wait, are you telling me we weren’t on the right road to begin with?”
“No, we weren’t,” Gavin said.
“So this was planned? You knew they were going to mess with my head?”
“Yes, I knew. I apologize, Ronnie. I thought it would be easier if you didn’t know what was coming. Think of it like going through customs. They’ll leave us alone now—I promise.”
Ronnie shot Candace a dirty look when she struggled to keep from laughing.”
TWENTY
THE SIDHE OF EYR
We drove into Limerick, Fae drifting in and out of my senses the entire time. The buildings gradually grew from two-story to four and five as we got closer to the River Shannon. Limerick had a much older feel to it than Dublin and everything seemed more muted here. There were a few modern buildings along the River, but I barely noticed as I took in the medieval stone structures, the red brick buildings with small, narrow windows, and the quaint townhouses tucked behind walls. Limerick seemed better preserved and more authentic than Dublin. We found a place to park opposite what looked like an old castle on the banks of the river, and made our way to a small pub.
After we ordered some food, I decided it was time to pay a visit to Fayetteville. My mind raced through the familiar void as I concentrated on Wakinyan. I found him lingering in the shadows of the living room like an immortal sentinel, protecting Mom, Grandpa, Grandma, and Mitch as they watched television. Wakinyan felt my presence immediately, and moved through the wall to the study.
I concentrated on the question, “Can you help me?”
He nodded.
I asked him if he knew where the garden journal was located, and he nodded again. Drifting through the ceiling, I followed him to Mom’s room. The journal was sitting on a cherry nightstand.
“Can you open it? Summer, 1935.”
He flipped the cover with his mind and turned the pages to the section Lola had written about the gardens during that era. With my mind’s eye, I began scanning the pages. Diagrams, notes, and comments on changes she’d made from 1934, there was a lot of information but nothing related to creating Aether.
I focused on the words “Next page please?”
“What are you looking for?”
I answered “I’m not entirely sure…some hint on creating Aether.”
“That should be easy enough to find.”
I wasn’t sure if he was being facetious or not.
The next pages contained yet more diagrams with notes on how the plants did through the summer. At the bottom of the fifth page of 1935, there was a note about Lola receiving a tea set as a gift. I’d been through the journal a few times, and personal notes were common. I knew this one had to refer to the tea set Aunt May had given me, but that didn’t help—there was nothing about creating Aether. On the last page, Lola mentioned creating the ballet with violets, but she gave no description. I hadn’t practiced it in months, but I could easily duplicate what Aunt May had shown me. Other than the notes, there were only comments and diagrams about bulbs she’d planted during the fall of 1935. The following pages were Lola’s record of 1936. Frustrating.
“I do not see anything, Maggie. Do you?”
I answered, “No. There’s nothing here.”
“Perhaps it was tucked into these pages and someone removed it over the yea
rs.”
I responded, “You must be right. That sucks. What do I do?”
“You will figure this out on your own—I believe it to my core. Has Gavin found the Sidhe?”
By piecemeal, I projected, “Some of them. We are on our way to the meeting place tonight.”
“Be careful, and keep an eye on him. There is a price on his head.”
I replied, “I will. I promise.”
My consciousness drifted back to the table where Gavin, Ronnie, and Candace were waiting. I rubbed my eyes and settled back into the bench and against Gavin. Slowly my gaze drifted across the stucco walls of the pub as the noisy chatter around us invaded my senses.
“Well?” Candace asked.
“Nothing. I looked through the garden journal. Nothing.”
Candace shook her head. “Are you sure? It might have been hidden or written in some kind of code. If I were your aunt, that’s what I would have done.”
“There was a reference to that antique tea set and to the trick I do with violets. Beyond that, there was nothing but garden notes, just like every other year.”
“Were there any sketches that didn’t look right?”
“No, they were like all the others she made. Listen, I’ve been through that journal a hundred times, if there were anything about the diagrams or the planting notes that was out of place, I would have seen it. Wakinyan suggested that she may have left a note in those pages, but somewhere along the line, it got lost.”
Candace frowned. “Unfortunately, that makes sense. She could have left the missing pages from Pete’s Journal.”
She ran her fingers up both sides of her head and clenched handfuls of auburn hair. I let her run the information through her head without further comment. After finishing a bowl of chowder and a plate of mussels, we left Limerick and drove south toward Cnoc Aine.
* * *
Gavin drove expertly as always through the curves of the narrow blacktop road. I soaked in the rolling grassy hills undulating under the low clouds as we covered the few miles to our destination. There were Fae all around—a lot of them. Several kept pace with the car—they knew Gavin was in it, driving.
Between two low walls of stacked stone, Gavin turned onto a one-lane paved road that led a half-mile to the base of a lone hill. We stopped at a small white stucco cottage surrounded by smaller out buildings and farm equipment. It looked like every other farm we’d passed along the thirty-minute drive. A slender man in his late twenties stepped onto a small stoop, studying us nervously as we got out of the car.