Emerald Isle (19 page)

I grabbed my suitcases and carted them into the bedroom.

Moonlight spilled through the large window as I set my luggage on the bench beneath it. A bouquet of gardenias was perched on the nightstand, lending a sweet aroma to the space.

Gardenias. My mother’s favorite. I drank in the fragrance while Thor leaped onto the larger bed, circled
around three times, and nestled his snout into a big, fluffy pillow.

I went to have a look out the window. The back of the castle was as majestic as the front, with more towers, turrets, and corbels jutting out from the main body. There was a courtyard down below, a gushing fountain pinned to its center. Above, a wall walk capped the castle, waiting for an armed sentry to pound the platform in search of encroaching enemies. A seagull screamed in the distance, and I noticed a lake claiming several islands as prisoners.

I closed the curtain and turned around, and the ghost was bobbing in front of me.

I swear my heart skipped six beats.

“Haven’t we been through this? Stop doing that to me.” I slapped at her, touching nothing but air.

She shrugged an apology, said, “Keep the locket safe, guard it well. When you most need it, time will tell,” and vanished.

“Wait. Please don’t go, Riddler. What does it do? Tell me why it’s important. What does it mean?” I called, frustrated.

Thor lifted his head, yawned, and went back to sleep.

I sighed, crossed the room, filled up a sink full of water in the bathroom for Thor, and used the facilities. As I washed my hands, there was a knock at the door. I poked my head out, expecting to see Birdie or one of the aunts, but no one was there.

Maybe I’d taken too long to answer.

I stepped outside the room and ventured down the hall, past another suit of armor, hoping to find Birdie’s room.

The hall was quiet, the only illumination supplied by a stained-glass lamp hanging in a corner where the hallway
curved. The glow from the glass pattern cast odd shapes along the walls, like tiny dragons trying to claw their way to freedom.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up then.

Someone called my name.

I whirled around.

Vacant. I hurried back toward my room, toward my familiar, toward my weapons.

Just before I reached it, I was seized from behind. An unyielding, cold hand clamped my mouth shut.

Why did I never have my sword when I needed it?

I couldn’t scream, so I kicked, elbowed, stomped, and flailed, managing only to bang up my own limbs, because what was holding me was that damn suit of armor.

Then I heard, “Pipe down, sweet cheeks. It’s me.”

That voice. I knew that irritating South Side twang. “John?”

He loosened his grip, raised his face guard, and wiggled his eyebrows.

Jackwagon
.

I slammed the mouthpiece shut and pounded on the helmet with a closed fist.

“Ah! You trying to make me go deaf?” he squeaked.

I let go and he removed the helmet, his dark hair shooting out from his head like a sparkler.

“Why are you wearing that? And why the hell are you trying to give me a heart attack? I’ve got enough on my plate without having to deal with your annoying ass.”

“Easy, sister, it was a joke. Lighten up.”

“It wasn’t funny, and I’m not your sister. What do you want?”

“I wanted to touch base with you before that meeting tomorrow.” His voice took on a serious tone. He quickly scouted the hallway. “Listen, something stinks around here, and it ain’t just you.” He made a face. “What did you do to yourself, anyway? Roll around in horse shit?”

“Close. Sheep shit.”

“Why?”

I waved my hand in the air. “Can we hurry this along? I need to burn these clothes.”

“Sorry. Anyways, I can’t put my finger on it, but something about this whole thing—the cauldron, the meeting, the fast track of gettin’ us all out here—it’s fishy, you know?”

“How so?”

John frowned. “Well, since when do we need a meeting to do a job, you know what I’m sayin’? And they got us spread out all over the place. Why? Why not clump us all together? And that Tallulah, did you meet her?” He whistled. “I thought her dad was harsh when I met him at my confirmation, but boy, is she a piece of work.”

“Can’t argue with you there. What about Ivy? Do you know where she is?”

“That’s another thing. She’s at the Academy, training, see? It’s an important year for her. She’s up for another nomination point. Anyways, they don’t mind doin’ a virtual meeting with her. Why her and not us? She’s all the way on the east side of the island.”

“I think I can shed some light on that.”

I explained to him about the Hill of Summoning, and how it was located in the Boyne Valley, and what we needed
to do to find the cauldron. Everything except where I had acquired the information, because although he was a Guardian, I thought the Web of Wyrd might be too much for John. I was hoping he assumed that my source was my family’s book of theology. He had his own, so he understood that each Blessed Book was unique.

I said, “We’ll be headed that way. We can collect Ivy on the way to the mound.”

He nodded, contemplating that tidbit. “I guess that makes sense.” Then he groaned, “Man, I do not want to work with that Tallulah.”

“You won’t have to,” I said.

He gave me a curious look. “She’s the Mage. I thought you just said the four corners would be working on this.”

“That’s true, except Birdie is the Mage.”

“Your grandmother? No shit?” He looked at me stealthily. “Wow. Two in one family. Don’t happen too often.” John met my eyes. “Just be careful. That’s all I’m sayin’.”

“Will do.”

He winked, wrestled his helmet back on his head, and clanked away.

I locked myself in my room, indulged in a hot shower, and crawled into the bed utterly exhausted.

As I lay there listening to the wind slicing through the water, images of the riddler ghost, the castle, and my mother flashed in my mind.

Before I drifted off to sleep, someone called my name.

A ringing, like an old-fashioned telephone’s, startled me awake.

“What is that?” I mumbled.

There was no phone that I could locate anywhere in the room. I climbed into a velvety robe and warm slippers and shuffled into the sitting room, then the bathroom.

Still no phone, but the ringing stopped. I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, went back into the bathroom, and turned on the sauna. I set the water down and did my morning routine.

Ring! Ring!

I rushed out of the bath, armed with a towel.

By this time, even Thor was annoyed. He hopped off the bed, thundered into the sitting room, and jumped at the television set.

“Thor, no!”

Instantly, it fizzed into action and I saw Birdie.

Thor grumbled at me and lumbered into the bedroom. I heard the mattress springs squeak as he climbed back into bed.

“Good morning, Birdie.”

“Good morning, Anastasia.”

“So, is this like a scrying-mirror thing?” I pointed to the television.

“The council is much more advanced than we are. This is just an inter-room connection. You simply dial the person’s room number. The instructions are in the console.”

I filtered through the drawer beneath the TV and found a booklet. “Thanks.”

My grandmother was dressed in a simple pantsuit, her hair blown into sultry waves, her makeup expertly applied. She was radiant.

“You look beautiful.”

She smiled. “Thank you. It’s the island. All that fresh sea air is good for the skin.”

From somewhere behind her I heard, “Ha!”

Sounded like Fiona.

“What does she mean by that?” I asked.

Birdie shot Fiona a rueful look. “Nothing. Your aunt thinks she knows me better than I know myself.”

“When it comes to affairs of the heart, I do,” Fiona said.

That tickled my curiosity. “You and Gramps?” I smiled.

An uneasy look crossed Birdie’s face. Like that of a trapped animal.

Fiona didn’t say anything more.

“Sleep well?” Birdie awkwardly changed the subject, and I decided my grandmother’s romantic life did not concern me.

“Yes. What time is it?”

“Seven. We must prepare for the meeting. Get dressed and come to my room within the half hour.” She clicked off the screen.

I shuffled back to the bedroom and unzipped my bag.

That’s when I saw her.

She was strolling through the courtyard, a basket in her hand, gathering herbs. She stopped to pluck a sprig of rosemary, and her auburn hair cascaded all the way down her back.

I threw open the window, stuck my head out, and screamed. “Mom!”

She glanced in my direction, just as I heard a rattling from above. I looked up in time to see the rope snap on the old pulley window. I yanked my head inside a split second
before the pane came crashing down. The glass splintered but didn’t shatter.

When I looked back, she was gone.

Behind me, I heard the deep, menacing growl of a giant dog. I turned to find Thor standing on the bed, his head bent low, canines flashing, muscles tense. His anger was aimed at the window.

“It’s okay, buddy. It broke, that’s all.”

He let out one long, deafening roar that would have made me wet myself had I not known him.

I waited. Watched him.

A moment later, Thor relaxed. He settled onto the bed, ears still alert, and I patted his huge tan head.

There was no time for the sauna, so I flipped it off and twisted the dials for the shower instead. I snapped a plastic cap over my head, grabbed the spa products that were tucked into a pretty silver basket, and discarded my robe.

As I soaped up, I wondered if I had been hallucinating. Was the woman in the garden really my mother? Or had I imagined her because I so desperately wanted it to be so? The crater in my heart carved by my mother’s disappearance would never be filled until I saw her, spoke with her, touched her. If the redhead was Mom, did that mean she wasn’t under lock and key? And if she wasn’t, why hadn’t she visited me? Did she know I was here at the castle? Perhaps Birdie would know the answer to that question. Maybe her friend Aedon would allow me to see my mother. After all, we had dropped everything to rush here per his request. That should count for something.

I was rinsing soap from my eyes when the bathroom door creaked shut. The frosted glass of the shower was
foggy, so I rubbed the condensation away with my palm. “Is someone there?”

Birdie, impatient as always
, I thought, but I saw no one.

I twisted both knobs, shutting off the water, and grabbed the towel that hung over the door. I was nearly dry when the hot water blasted on again.

“What the hell?”

I turned the handle to the off position once more. Then the steam jets screeched to life at full throttle, scalding my skin.

I screamed and pushed on the shower door, but it wouldn’t budge. I heard Thor trying to claw his way to me from the other side of the bathroom door.

The nozzles fired on again, and no amount of tugging or twisting would shut them off. Then both spigots began shooting scorching-hot water my way.

My skin turned pink, then red. Felt like it was boiling.

I grabbed the towel and jumped onto the tiled bench. It wasn’t in direct range of the jets, but my legs and feet were still getting pummeled. I wrapped the towel around my fist, tight as I could, closed my eyes, and delivered a left hook to the glass.

It shattered into a billion pieces. The entire bathroom was so steamy, I could hardly see a thing. No time to contemplate where the toilet was, the towel rack, or the wastebasket. I leaped as far as I could, hoping to avoid the glass (although it was tempered, thankfully), and crumbled into a soggy heap. My head scraped against the vanity, and a trickle of warm blood oozed down my temple.

My skin was on fire, so I rushed barefoot to the sinks, hoping for relief. I spun the knob for cold water and tentatively stuck my fingers beneath the stream.

It was cold.

I called to Thor, who was still beating away at the door, and told him I was all right.

There was a pile of washcloths neatly rolled on a shelf to the right. I grabbed one and soaked it under the chilly water.

The steam jets and the showerheads all shut off at that moment. Carefully, I dabbed the moist terrycloth on my skin. Then I blotted away the blood.

And I saw what was in the mirror.