Emerald Isle (7 page)

I put my hand on my sword, felt the heat there, the charge it held, and knew I had the strength to leave tomorrow and stand before the council, demanding my mother’s release.

“That’s it. No more of this Seeker nonsense.” I reached into the bodice of my dress, opened the locket, and pulled out the dedication I’d written.

Behind me, I heard Thor, the only family member I could trust, galloping down the hall.

I crumpled the paper in my hand and spiked it at Danu’s face.

That’s when she stood up from her chair, tossed the cup, and yanked me right through the frame.

Birdie moved up the stairs as fast as an old woman draped in a cape could move. Fiona kept pace directly behind her.

Fiona said, “All the emotion of the day, our bickering. It must have summoned them. And with today being Mabon and Stacy’s rewitchening, well, it was the perfect playground—”

“We don’t know that for certain,” Birdie said. “Perhaps we aren’t too late.” She lifted her head. “Anastasia!”

Birdie reached the landing and rushed down the corridor, swinging open every door she passed along the way. Fiona’s room, Lolly’s room, the linen closet.

“Stacy!” Fiona called. She stuck her head into Birdie’s bathroom and turned on the light.

Birdie searched her bedroom. “Anastasia, are you in here?” She flung open the closet door, yanked the duvet off the bed, and pulled the curtain back. There was no sign of her granddaughter.

Her sister called to her. “And where is Thor?”

Birdie clicked off the lamp and stepped out of her bedroom. She swung her head first to the right and then
to the left. She stood there for a moment and tapped her foot. An eerie feeling settled in her gut as she did. As if they weren’t alone. As if they were being watched.

Fiona joined Birdie. “What is it?”

Birdie put a finger to her lips, quieting Fiona. She lifted an eyebrow quizzically. “Something is off. Do you feel it?” the youngest Geraghty whispered.

Fiona cocked her head, trying to capture whatever sound or sense Birdie was picking up.

She met Birdie’s eyes and nodded slowly. She felt it too. Fiona pointed over Birdie’s shoulder, then reached around and hit the light switch to her sister’s room.

Birdie whispered in her ear, “I checked already.”

Fiona pointed again and said, “Look.”

Birdie followed Fiona’s line of vision to the scrying mirror. It had been turned around, and now the side used for divination was against the wall. Curious, Birdie stepped forward with the slightest hint of trepidation and gently lifted the mirror, righting it.

Tabby’s scornful face stared back at her. “Lose something?” she mocked.

Birdie could hardly contain her anger. She was surprised the mirror didn’t shatter from the explosive power of her emotions.

“What have you done, Tabby?” Birdie asked, her fists balled into tight white knots at her sides. She vowed silently that if this wretched woman had harmed a single hair on her granddaughter’s head, she would personally make her pay in the most horrifyingly painful manner.

“Who, me?” Tallulah replied innocently. “Why, I haven’t done a thing, Birdie. All I did was wish your charming little
witch well in her quest and said may the best Seeker win.” Tallulah frowned. “Although, I must admit, Birdie, she was quite surprised by what I had to say. Almost as if she hadn’t heard a thing about it.” She smiled, malice oozing from her teeth like blood dripping from a lion’s fangs.

Fiona said, “Meddling in family affairs, Tabby—honestly, have you nothing better to do?”

“Where is she?” Birdie shouted loud enough to shake her old nemesis.

Tallulah looked genuinely startled for a beat. “What do you mean, where is she? How in Hecate’s name should I know?”

Fiona cleared her throat and tapped Birdie’s arm. “Remember, Sister? Lolly was helping her adjust her gown. I’m sure she’s still in her quarters, primping. You know how Lolly can be.” She turned to the mirror. “Well, we have rituals to attend to, Tallulah. I’m sure you understand.” Fiona didn’t wait for a response. She tapped the mirror to cut the connection, and whirled around to Birdie. “Birdie, we must be very careful what we reveal to Tabby. She could ruin everything.”

Birdie nodded. “Yes, of course, you’re right.” She tapped a few buttons underneath the mirror and played back Tabby’s conversation with Anastasia. It didn’t reveal where the girl had gone. Birdie stepped out of the room and looked at the painting of Danu. “Do you suppose she entered the chamber of magic?”

The chamber of magic was a secret room sheltered behind the large oil painting of the goddess Danu. It could be accessed only by visualizing a door, whereupon the passageway to the room would appear. Fiona had taught
Anastasia how to gain access to the space a short time ago. It was where the Geraghty Girls kept their most powerful tools, talismans, spells, and secrets of the craft and family.

“It’s possible,” Fiona said with little conviction.

The two sisters walked toward the painting side by side.

When they reached the end of the hall, Fiona said, “What is this?” She stooped down to the burgundy carpet and picked up a wadded piece of paper. She unwrinkled it and read, a dark shadow creeping over her face.

“What is it, Fiona?”

Fiona looked at Birdie. “It’s Stacy’s dedication spell.” She handed it to Birdie. “She must have been upset after speaking with Tabby.”

Birdie pinched her lips, piecing together in her mind what had happened. Tabby had opened up her big mouth to Anastasia about the deal Birdie had made, and the girl must have become angry. Probably thought Birdie had no intention of telling her about it at all. “If anything happens to that girl, I will personally see to it that banshee suffers to the end of her days.”

“So, then, do you think what we feared has happened? Do you think the fairy fire traced her steps? Do you think they used it to pull her into the Web of Wyrd?”

Fairy fire had led many a human astray, especially weary travelers, but it could also be used to pave a path from this world to the other, opening a portal that only the Fae could control.

Birdie said, “I’m afraid so, Fiona. If Anastasia’s faith wavered and she was angry enough to turn her back on her destiny, then they will force her to understand destiny and free will can live cohesively within one’s soul. They will
have to exemplify it for her. Teach her the lesson that I so obviously could not.”

Fiona patted Birdie’s back. “You mustn’t blame yourself.”

A panic rose within Birdie. “Oh no.” She looked to Fiona, grabbed her hand. “She could be gone for five minutes or five years. And by then, it will be too late. The council won’t wait.”

Fiona was worried too. “Time is not linear in the Web of Wyrd, not like in this dimension. She could circle backward or forward.”

“Yes, and the web is altered by human actions. She could change not only the course of
her life
, but history itself. The ramifications could be monumental.” Birdie held Fiona’s eyes for a moment, then glanced at the painting. “We have to get her back. Because if we don’t—”

Fiona finished her sister’s thought. “She could cease to be.”

Before I could soil my drawers at the realization that a painting—a freaking
painting
—of a woman I wasn’t sure had ever existed had sprung to life and grabbed me, I felt Thor clamp onto my cape.

That was the last thing I remembered before waking up in a human-sized birdcage. That’s right, folks. The next time you’re having a shitty day, just say to yourself,
Well, at least I didn’t wake up in a birdcage this morning.

The cage appeared to be suspended from a tree I could not identify. Its leaves were a mystical shade of ebony violet, each as large as a pumpkin, and its branches stretched so high into the sky, I couldn’t see beyond the canopy. I
wasn’t more than three feet off the ground, but the way the inky iron bars of my prison limbered in the wind, I was left with the eerie sensation that the tree holding me captive was
breathing
and, if it felt the urge, could drop me at any moment.

The other trees in the forest were covered in moss, their leaves a thick green, some with ivy squeezing their trunks. The ground, too, was a mixture of grass and moss, and seemed to form some sort of labyrinth. Straight ahead, a large pathway lay before me, flanked by wide-barked oaks that arched protectively over the grove to meet in the center, creating a kind of natural ceiling over the grassy space below, like fingers clasped together.

Nowhere did I see Thor. I called to him softly, then focused my mind on him, but my thoughts were jumbled and I couldn’t concentrate.

A soft orange glow penetrated the landscape to my right, and I feared that darkness would set in before I figured out where the hell I was and why. My body felt fine, though my mind was hazy, but it seemed I was not hurt. No bindings on my hands or feet, so the first thing I did after assessing the area was look for the latch on the cage. I felt all around, from top to bottom, but there was no door. No key. Not even a twist tie.

A crow came along and pecked at my fingers as I pulled at the bars.

“Ow. Stop that. Go away.”

I swear it was the same damn crow I’d seen outside Birdie’s window.

Birdie. I’d almost forgotten about the woman in the mirror and what she had said. Something about a deal and
finding something. It was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t conjure up the word. What did they want me to find? It began with a
c
, I remember that much. Canary? No, that wasn’t it. Geez, had I eaten a magic mushroom? Swallowed some of Lolly’s sweet-dreams tea? Because that would explain a lot.

The crow came back, squawked in my face, and pecked my thumb. Hard.

I flapped my arms at the bird. “Knock it off. Shoo.”

It narrowed its beady little eyes and tilted its head as if I were the less intelligent species. Given the fact that I was the one swinging from a tree in a cage with no door, and he was free to fly, the bird had a point.

The mean little prick pecked me again. “Stop that. I’m not your competition, I swear.”

Suddenly, the crow soared into the air, then swooped across the cage, flapping its wings gracefully, growing larger and larger with each pump. The wings expanded, the body elongated, and the eyes grew wider, fiercer.

Holy hobgoblin. This thing is going to eat me.

I ducked down, making myself as small as possible, crouched on the base of the cage, and covered my head with my arms. I had seen this defense mechanism used by a squirrel once when an angry hawk tried to make it his dinner. I prayed it would work.

The crow—or whatever the hell it was now—shrieked, and I heard rustling in the leaves above my head.

I stayed perfectly still. Another good defense ploy when faced with a predator, or so I’d heard. I’d never actually been in danger of being eaten before.

A woman laughed. The sound seemed to come from below.

Was someone else trapped? The forest could be full of other cages filled with tasty humans, for all I knew.
Dear Goddess, please tell me I passed out from drinking my weight in wine and this Kafkaesque nightmare isn’t really happening.

More laughter. Not just the woman. Children too.

Then a silky voice. “My competition? Ha! You should be so lucky to have such power, Stacy Justice.”

The doorbell rang and Birdie said, “Fiona, see to it the guests are comfortable. Try to stall them as best you can until I find a fetching spell to bring Anastasia back. I’ll get the door.”

Fiona nodded and rushed down the back stairwell.

Birdie strode down the hallway and unlocked the door that separated the private quarters of the house from the guest suites. She turned right down another hall and shuffled down the steps to the front foyer.

She peeked through the curtain and saw Leo, the chief of police, standing on her porch.

“What is he doing here?” she hissed to herself.

The man knocked. “Mrs. Geraghty?”

He must have seen her.

Damn!

She pasted a smile on her face and swung the heavy door open. “Hello, Leo. How can I help you?”