Emerald Isle (23 page)

My phone chimed. It was a message from Birdie.

Taking care of something. Will text when you should meet me.

I pocketed the phone and realized that I had taken a wrong turn leaving the Court of O’Conor room. I found myself lost in the matrix of the castle.

The map was folded in the back pocket of my jeans, so I stopped for a minute to read it.

According to the grid, we were just steps away from the library. I thought of the book, folded upside down on the chair in the hallway outside my room last night, and of what Pearce had said about my mother reading a lot.

“Come on, Thor.”

The big dog plopped down on the faded carpet, rolled onto his back, and wailed uncontrollably.

“You’re being ridiculous, you know that?” I said.

He kicked his feet in the air and yelped.

“Fine. Wait here.”

The pocket doors to the library slid open easily. Inside the mahogany-trimmed room were floor-to-ceiling
bookshelves, a cozy fireplace, soft leather chairs, and the distinctive scent of brown-sugar-and-vanilla body spray.

My mother’s scent.

For the first time since I had arrived, I felt her presence all around me like an embrace. If she hadn’t been here moments ago, then it was definitely a place she spent much of her time. I set out to explore the space, touching every inch of the room, drinking in the essence of my mother, absorbing the energy she had impressed on the books. My fingertips danced over leather-bound volumes of Keats, Browning, Twain, and Shakespeare. Books of all shapes and sizes filled row after row of sturdy shelves, some with gold-embossed lettering, some with weakened spines. Some dusty, some brand new. There was an entire section devoted to Irish writers—James Joyce, Oscar Wilde, Samuel Beckett, Bram Stoker—and one whole wall cluttered with sources for witchery.

On that wall, one thick volume was protruding just a bit from the others. I went over to read the title.
Banishment Spells: Breaking Hexes, Curses & Ties to Malevolent Beings.

Now, that was a book I could use right now.

Gingerly, I liberated the tome from its neighbors.

In a swift
whoosh
, the wall skidded open, revealing a secret room. Something beckoned me to step inside. I stuck the book in the doorway so it wouldn’t shut, and followed my instincts.

My jaw dropped to the floor as I realized where I was. The photographs, potion bottles, body spray, a gold compact that once belonged to Maegan, even the pathetic little pottery bowl I made her one Mother’s Day.

This was her room. My mother’s room.

There was a stack of letters on a white desk, beside a journal. I crossed over to the desk, picked up the first letter.

It began,
My darling
.

Before I could explore any further, or even read the note, I heard a loud voice say, “What are you doing out here, Thor?”

Elizabeth.

I shoved the letter into my pocket and quickly slipped out the door, forced the book back into its slot, grabbed the one next to it, and leaped into a chair as the wall whispered shut.

Elizabeth stepped inside just as I cracked the spine. She eyed me skeptically, flicking her gaze to the book and then back to me.

“Hello, Miss Justice. I believe your dog may need to pay a visit to the grounds. He seems to be emitting a noxious odor.”

I closed the book, thanked her, and got the hell out of there.

We had nearly made it to the front door with the help of the map when Thor decided he just couldn’t go on. He collapsed onto a settee that probably cost more than my car and sighed.

Maybe I could coax him out of his funk with some treats.

I headed over to where the buffet had been, through one of the Gothic archways, to see if anything was left. John was standing there, stuffing bacon into his pockets.

“What are you doing?”

He looked up. “Stocking up on snacks.”

“That’s disgusting.” I inspected the buffet. It was picked over, and nothing remained except for a few sad-looking scones and potato pancakes, a plate of peanut butter cookies, and a bowl of mints. I grabbed some of the cookies and mints and shoved them into my sweatshirt pocket.

“So, what do you know about these competitions?” I asked John.

He said, “Not a thing. I never had to do anything like that. I’ll be there, though, rooting for you.”

I explained about my plan to get it over with and go after the cauldron. John agreed with me that we shouldn’t wait, stating he didn’t want to stay here any longer than he had to, that he wanted to get home to his wife as soon as possible.

“I’ll text you the details as soon as I know them. I’m going for a walk with Thor.”

“You want me to come?” he asked, shoving an entire biscuit into his mouth.

I wrinkled my nose. “No, thanks. You reek of bacon. Probably attract every stray dog within a thirty-mile radius, and Thor is already on tilt, thanks to that Irish wolfhound. Besides”—I patted my sword, still dangling from my belt loop—“I’ve got protection.”

I left him there, eyeing the potato pancakes, and went back to my lovesick pooch.

He was still lying there, singing the blues.

“Thor, hey, buddy, you want a cookie?”

One ear perked up, twisted toward my voice like a telescope.

I walked toward the massive front door. “It’s your favorite. Peanut butter…”

He sprung up, sprinted for the door. Just as I was about to open it, I heard a giggle coming from the catwalk above.

I saw Gramps kiss Tallulah, then slip into a room with her.

What is it about this place that makes everything with dangly bits act like a horny toad?

I heaved the colossal door open, and Thor led the way through. We stepped out into dappled sunlight. There was a mountain range just beyond the horizon that I hadn’t seen the night before. A blanket of mist shrouded it, and I couldn’t help but think it had been carefully placed there by the gentle hand of a god.

I tossed Thor a cookie, and he jumped up to catch it. He scarfed it down, then rushed over to a fountain, scaring off a flock of squeaky birds.

The scenery was truly breathtaking, and I drank it all in as I searched for a footpath that would lead to the back of the castle. I wanted to see the courtyard where my mother—or the impression of my mother—had lingered earlier that day. Hopefully find a secluded spot to read the letter I’d stolen from her desk.

There were hedges fashioned into animal shapes all around the grounds. Unicorns, dragons, hawks, cats, dolphins—every totem you could possibly imagine guarded the castle. We passed flowering shrubs that should have long been out of bloom, still boasting blossoms. Lilacs, roses, and honeysuckle, planted in pleasing contrast with the harsh evergreens.

Eventually, I found a crushed-slate path that wound around to the castle’s posterior. Here, the grass was clipped short into lush waves of green that stretched to the rocky
shore of the lake bed. There were pathways all around it, trailing to more towers with threatening points and steps that seemed to lead to nowhere. To the right was a wide entrance through a forest, to the left, a steep embankment where the lake had lapped away the landscape.

Thor busied himself inspecting the plants in the courtyard for a while, until something caught his eye above and he howled.

“What?”

He sat down, threw his shoulders back, and bayed.

I looked up to see the object of his affection, staring out a window.

“Geez, Thor, can you please try to focus? I need you solid, my friend.”

I tossed him another cookie, but he ignored it.

I sighed. “Just don’t go diving onto any sharp objects, okay? I don’t think Birdie and the aunts are packing that much power.”

I left him to his depression and walked to the water’s edge, whipped out my phone, and called Chance via video chat.

He picked up after the first ring. “Hey, baby.”

“Hi, handsome.”

“I was hoping you would call. I was getting a little worried.”

“It’s been pretty crazy, but I finally got a free moment. Here, look at this place.” I held up the phone, did a slow, 360-degree scan.

Chance whistled. “Wow, that’s amazing.”

I turned the phone back to face him. “It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen, that’s for sure.”

Chance cocked his head. “What’s that noise?”

Thor was still going at it.

“That would be the wail of a lovesick puppy.”

“I know how he feels,” Chance said, smiling wistfully. “So, how are things going? Everything okay?”

I thought of the ghost that had tried to kill me, but decided that would be a story better left for another day, when this whole mess was over and I was back in his arms, safe and sound.

I smiled. “Everything’s fine. I should be back—”

Suddenly, my throat clenched up. I coughed.

“Stacy? You okay?” Chance asked.

That was weird.
“I’m fine—”

Then more tightening, squeezing, until I couldn’t breathe. I dropped the phone to claw at my neck. I couldn’t scream, the restriction was so tight; I could only kick my feet out until I fell backward on the muddy edge of the lake. I scrambled to get up, to wield my sword, but again I was seized, even more forcefully this time, by the throat. When I reached my hands up around my own neck, I felt invisible fingers.

I could hear Chance yelling my name, could see Thor, but I couldn’t scream. Could only gag. Cough.

Whisper.

As my head slammed into the ground, I bucked, and the grip loosened for a moment. Long enough for me to say, “Pickle, Pickle, Pickle.”

The clamp around my neck tightened as the murderous ghost grew angrier.

No one came.

I reached for the locket. Then I remembered it had been sewn into Thor’s vest.

Elizabeth guided Birdie to a far-reaching upper wing of the castle. The sun was penetrating through the windowpane of a crooked nook as they stopped before a double-doored suite. Soft music drifted into the hallway, and somewhere, someone was preparing Irish stew.

Elizabeth knocked once. Aedon called, “Come in,” and Elizabeth nodded at Birdie, then slipped away.

Birdie smoothed out her jacket, took a deep breath, lifted her chin, and stepped into the room.

Aedon was gazing out a large bay window. He turned and smiled warmly at Birdie in that charming manner he had that crinkled the corners of his eyes. Even as a boy, when he’d had not a line on his face, his eyes had curled into question marks at the corners.

“Brighid, alone at last.” He stepped forward, clasped both of her hands, and kissed both cheeks. “It’s been too long. How many years?”

Birdie stiffened. “I suppose since the day you wed Tabby.”

Aedon searched her face, sighed. “You still haven’t forgiven me, have you?”

Birdie wanted to say that yes, she had, but she couldn’t force the words to leave the tip of her tongue and exit her mouth. She had forgiven him. It’s what you do when you love someone.

“I was a stupid, hormonal boy, Birdie. Surely, you can understand that.”

Birdie broke free of his grasp. She
could
understand that. It wasn’t the soured romance that had scarred her heart. It was that he had believed Tallulah’s lies.

“It isn’t that.” She looked deep into his eyes, exposing all her sorrow, all her pain, all her loss. “You were my friend, Aedon, yet you spoke on her behalf at the hearing. How could you take her word over mine?”

Aedon winced. His voice was hoarse when he spoke a few moments later. “She had me under an enchantment spell, Birdie. For three months, every word from her mouth was truth to my ears.”

Birdie knew that spell. After all, she was the one who had written it. It was in her notebook. Through the years, Birdie had filled journal after journal with original spells, often mailing them home to her sisters to insert into the Blessed Book. She had poured hours of painstaking research, practice, and heart into every potion, recipe, and charm she invented. She had suspected, once Tallulah stopped trying to destroy her work, that she was stealing it, only she could never prove it. Not even when the final exam came and Birdie performed every incantation and ritual from memory, while Tallulah had to reference her spell book. It didn’t help that Tallulah’s rigid father was a
council member. The man was hard as a rock, and just as feeling, even when it came to his own daughter. She hadn’t witnessed too many hugs or pats on the back, yet Tallulah often bragged about how powerful he was, how he would crush anyone who dared cross him.

And that’s exactly what he had done to Birdie. She had been expelled for cheating when it was discovered that both girls were performing the same spell work. Naturally, the man took his daughter’s word over Birdie’s.

“Birdie?” Aedon was saying, shattering the distant memory. “Are you all right?”

The youngest Geraghty smiled. “Fine.”

“Did you hear what I said?”

“I’m sorry, I was away with the fairies for a moment.”

“I said, thank you for giving me the opportunity to redeem myself. I hope you will accept my sincere apologies. Perhaps you may even gain your rightful place on the council.”