‘It’s over,’ said Izzy. ‘They came here, but in equal numbers I think. And we’d already taken care of Sorath. So I imagine they had nothing to stay for. She’s gone.’

  Taken to hell where she belongs, Jinx wanted to add, but he didn’t.

  ‘Blythe,’ Dylan interrupted. ‘Where’s Silver?’

  ‘Ah, looking for you, I’d imagine. Although if you’d like to stay lost—’

  ‘That might not be a bad idea, Dylan,’ said Jinx. ‘Really. You should go home.’ Dylan looked away, his shocked expression fading with exhaustion and defeat. Clearly his instincts agreed, but something else made him hesitate. All that Brí had said, no doubt. Jinx couldn’t offer comfort though. He wouldn’t know where to begin. There had never been a human touchstone before. Rocks mainly, plants that had been magically transformed, things like that. Not people. Definitely not humans.

  ‘I should …’ he began, then nodded. ‘I should go.’

  ‘We’ll see him safe home,’ said Blight.

  Dylan stiffened and glanced at Izzy. For a moment their eyes locked and something passed between them. Jinx frowned, and then recalled what Brí had said. That they’d all be after him as Silver’s touchstone, the source of her power. There was only one person he’d be safe with, and that wouldn’t last very long either. Silver needed her magic.

  So should Jinx bring him to her? Or help him get as far away from her as possible? He didn’t know anymore.

  ‘No,’ said Dylan. ‘Not home. Not yet. I need to talk to her first.’

  Blythe glared at Jinx. ‘And you … don’t leave it so long to visit again.’

  ‘Not sure Brí would like that,’ Jinx said, recognising the threat in her voice as only superficial. It was more affectionate than that, the tone someone would use to a disruptive pup.

  ‘She’ll put up with it, for us. You are kin, after all. You proved it when you died. We all heard you. That’s what brought us to your aid. Even Brí couldn’t deny that.’

  ‘She didn’t try to stop you?’

  Blythe stared at him. ‘She’s our matriarch, Jinx. She would never deny us what we want. There’s a gate over there. It’ll take you to the hospital. That is where Izzy wants to go. Kin being kin. Just remember, Jinx, you have a duty to her now. More than kith. More than kin.’

  He bowed his head to his fellow Cú Sídhe. ‘I understand that.’

  Izzy hugged him and he only just managed to stifle a smile.

  The hospital grounds were empty, even the dual carriageway outside was desolate. The streetlamps fizzed and hummed as they walked up to the entrance. Izzy’s heart shivered with every sound.

  Silver leaned against the security desk. On the far side the guard snored noisily. The Aes Sídhe smiled as she saw them and it was as if the fluorescent lighting flared briefly overhead.

  ‘I was wondering when you’d get here.’

  Dylan hesitated, hanging back between Izzy and Jinx. ‘Silver …’ he said carefully.

  Her expression changed as she took in his battered face, the dried blood on his clothes, the mess the angel had made of him. ‘What happened? What did she do to you?’

  She strode forward, her eyes blazing as she examined him, turning his face to one side as if he was a possession damaged by some careless handling. He pulled back sharply, irritation marking his features.

  ‘I’m okay. Really. Brí sorted it.’

  ‘Brí,’ she snorted brusquely. ‘You’re lucky she didn’t drain you dry.’

  ‘Like you will. She told me, Silver.’

  ‘I warned you. Right from the start. That’s how it works until eventually you’re gone. Your life force goes into my touchstone.’

  ‘The tree. But there’s no tree anymore. So what is there, Silver? What’s left? Apart from me.’

  She snarled, baring her teeth, but it wasn’t an entirely aggressive expression. There was desperation in it as well. ‘What do you mean? You’re just a human, a talented one no doubt but you’re just—’

  ‘I’m the only touchstone you have.’

  ‘No!’ Silver turned away, every muscle tight with alarm, poised for escape. But she didn’t go. She looked back at him, shivering from head to toe. ‘Dylan … this isn’t what I intended. I swear it. I would never have done this to you if I’d … I don’t even know how it happened.’ She looked like she wanted to beg forgiveness, but naturally, the words stuck in her throat. Izzy saw tears well up in her pale eyes. Terrifying or not, Silver had never intended this.

  Dylan caught her arms, pulling her back to him, a surprisingly gentle gesture. ‘There’s a way to control it. To work this out, so we both can live. It won’t be easy, but there is a way.’

  Silver slipped free of his arms, staring at him in confusion. She’d stopped retreating though. ‘There’s no way to break the spell of a Leanán Sídhe, Dylan. I warned you of that too.’

  ‘And no way for you to survive without a touchstone. That’s what they say. You should have died back in that cell. But Brí says differently.’

  Silver’s expression froze. ‘And why would Brí share her secrets?’

  ‘Because Dylan tried to save me,’ said Izzy.

  ‘I failed to save you.’ He said it with half a laugh. ‘Jinx did that.’

  ‘No,’ Jinx admitted. ‘That was all Izzy. She saved herself, and us. All of us.’

  ‘Silver,’ Dylan murmured and held out his hand. ‘There is a way, and I will find it. It won’t be easy, it won’t be painless, but we can do it. If you’ll help me.’

  She hesitated – how could she not? What he had said was probably an understatement of epic proportions. But here he was, a human, who should be her thrall, asking for her help. Holding such power over her, and not wielding it like a whip. Izzy could see the conflict in Silver’s beautiful eyes, but then she took his hand in hers. ‘Tell me what Brí said. We’ll work it out together. Then we’ll see what’s possible.’

  Izzy watched them go, hand in hand, heads bent together as they whispered of secrets.

  Mum was asleep in the chair at Dad’s bedside. She looked childlike, all petite build, hair like gold. The differences between her and Izzy now stood out starkly to Izzy’s eyes. So clear that they weren’t related, now that she looked. Really looked. It didn’t matter. Mum was, and would always be, Mum. Izzy hesitated by the door and put her finger to her lips so that Jinx wouldn’t make a sound. Foolish really. He could move more quietly than any cat if he wanted to. But still, he smiled and nodded his agreement. He leaned against the door jamb, waiting for her.

  There was a cup of water waiting on the locker. Izzy sat on the edge of the bed and picked it up. With her other hand, she steadied her Dad’s head and tipped the plastic cup until the water moistened his lips. No more than that.

  If she needed a grail, she had to look no further than herself.

  The effect was instantaneous. He grumbled something, in that indistinct, sleeping-Dad kind of way, like when she caught him nodding off in front of the news or halfway through the Sunday afternoon DVD he’d promised to watch with her. Izzy lowered him back down onto the pillow and his eyes flickered open.

  Dad smiled weakly at her. ‘Well, now,’ his voice sounded rough and strained. But it was his voice and it was wonderful to hear. ‘You look like you’ve been in a war, sweetheart.’

  ‘Just a small one,’ she conceded.

  His eyes narrowed, hardened in a way she wasn’t familiar with. The expression looked strange on his face, but at the same time clearly belonged there. ‘What sort of war?’

  She surprised herself when she found a smile. ‘One you neglected to tell me about.’

  Dad sighed, closed his eyes. ‘I never could find the right moment. How did you find out?’

  She sat down on the edge of the bed, took his hand. His grip closed around her fingers, reassuring, secure. ‘It found me. But I managed.’

  ‘I see that. It doesn’t go away, Izzy. It never goes away. I guess we wanted to spare you for as long as possible.
To give you a normal, happy childhood.’

  ‘And you did.’ Tears stung her eyes and she squeezed his hand. She didn’t feel like a child any more, but with Dad, that didn’t matter. She would always be his daughter. ‘Brí isn’t best pleased.’

  He let out something like a sigh, which was more than half a groan. ‘Brí is never best pleased.’

  ‘Yeah, I got that much. My mother? Really?’

  For a moment she wished he would say ‘no’, at the same time knowing he wouldn’t. But just for that second, she wondered if he would make that go away with a word.

  He went white and then the shame in his face was enough of an answer. ‘Yes. It was … I’m sorry, Izzy, I—’

  Izzy panicked, not ready to hear this, not ready for any of it. He was still her dad. He was a Grigori. Part of her couldn’t bear for him to be human too, to admit failings and weakness, mistakes and regrets.

  ‘It’s old news,’ she said, cutting him off. ‘And it doesn’t matter. Not really. I’ve made peace with it, with her, I think. You’re my family. You and Mum.’ She looked over her shoulder to where Mum slept. She knew too and had said nothing. But it was in the past.

  ‘And him?’ He nodded towards Jinx, standing just beyond the doorway. Dad didn’t miss a thing. And Izzy wouldn’t have expected any less.

  ‘He’s good. I promise.’

  ‘If you say so.’

  ‘I do.’ As she said it, Mum murmured something, almost waking, and Dad’s attention shifted slightly. Torn. The adult thing was to take pity on them, give them the space they needed. And though the childish part of her didn’t want to, Izzy smiled. ‘Later on, you can tell me everything. I’ll hold you to that. I’ll be outside, if you need anything.’

  She kissed his forehead and Dad wrapped his arm around her, his embrace so strong that she knew she’d never need to fear anything with him watching out for her. But just occasionally, if needs be, she could look out for him as well.

  Jinx stepped back to let her out, her shadow, her guard and more. Izzy wrapped her arm with his and led him away as her father softly called her mother’s name.

  ‘Rachel?’

  Izzy kept walking. Away from the exclamations and the endearments, away from the two people who needed just each other right now.

  She’d go back later, she promised herself.

  But for now, they deserved to be together. Jinx stopped at the end of the corridor, pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. She nestled against him, her cheek pressed to his chest while his heart thundered away like a stampede.

  She knew the sound. Hers was doing the same thing.

  A long way from an alley with an angel painted on a wall. A long way from the girl who had first met him.

  The mark on the back of her neck warmed again, and this time it wasn’t frightening. It was the sense of coming home.

  Words & Phrases

  Aes Sídhe: (Ay Shee) The highest caste of the Sídhe, most angelic in appearance, the ruling class.

  Amadán: (Am-a-dawn) meaning Fool, also known as the Old Man and the Trickster. Member of the Council.

  Brí: (Bree) meaning Strength. Member of the Council.

  Cú Sídhe: (Coo Shee) Shapeshifting Sídhe who sometimes take the form of a large hound. A lower caste of the Sídhe.

  Dubh Linn: (Dove Linn) The black pool, original name for Dublin.

  Einechlan: (I-ne-chlan) Honour price.

  Geis: (Gaish) A taboo or prophecy, like a vow or a spell, which dictates the fate of a member of the Aes Sídhe.

  Íde: (Ee-da) meaning Thirst. Member of the Council.

  Leanán Sídhe: (Lee-ann-awn Shee) Fairy lover, the muse, Sídhe who feed from the magical lifeforce of others, but can inspire unbridled creativity in return.

  Sídhe: (Shee) Irish supernatural race.

  Seanchaí: (Shan-a-key) Storyteller. Member of the Council.

  Tuatha dé Dannan: (too-atha day dan-ann) The people of the Goddess Danu, or the people of God, the Irish fairies.

  About the Author

  RUTH FRANCES LONG is a lifelong fan of fantasy and romance. She studied English Literature, History of Religions, and Celtic Civilisation in college and now works in a specialised library of rare and unusual books. But they don’t talk to her that often. Ruth Frances Long is also the author of The Treachery of Beautiful Things.

  Copyright

  This eBook edition first published 2014 by The O’Brien Press Ltd,

  12 Terenure Road East, Rathgar, Dublin 6, Ireland.

  Tel: +353 1 4923333; Fax: +353 1 4922777

  E-mail: [email protected]

  Website: www.obrien.ie

  First published 2014

  eBook ISBN: 978–1–84717–714–8

  Copyright for text © Ruth Frances Long 2014

  Copyright for editing, typesetting, layout, design © The O’Brien Press Ltd

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or utilised in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or in any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Cover image courtesy of iStockphoto

  The O’Brien Press receives financial assistance from

  Coming soon …

  A Hollow in the Hills

  BY RUTH FRANCES LONG

  When Holly unleashes an ancient and forbidden power, Izzy and her father must prevent the war in heaven spilling across the earth. But when Izzy refuses to sacrifice Jinx, she sets in motion a chain of events which will see them hunted through the Sídhe-ways, across the city and into the hills, where Izzy will face the greatest challenge of all. In the deepest and darkest Hollow, an angel of death is waiting and the price he asks for his help might be too high.

 


 

  Ruth Frances Long, A Crack in Everything

 


 

 
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