by Lizzy Prince
Shaking my head, I gave him a sympathetic smile. “I know what she can do, Theo. I get it.”
“Don’t speak. I know what you’re thinking,” Theo said in response, a new gleam in his eye.
“Are you reciting No Doubt lyrics?” I asked, narrowing my eyes and fighting not to smile at Theo’s attempt to lighten the mood.
“Baby don’t hurt me,” Theo said flatly, and I couldn't help rolling my eyes.
“Oh my god.” I snickered.
“Every rose has its thorn.”
I was full on laughing, and Theo had a smirk on his face when I gasped out, “You are such an idiot.”
From the other room, Lola shouted, “You are an idiot.”
Theo turned to me trying to smother his laughter, his head tilted as if he was confused. “Why do I get the feeling that from her, it’s an insult?”
And I just laughed harder when Lola shouted out again, “Because it is, you idiot.”
A huge grin broke out on his face, and he waggled his eyebrow before closing his eyes like he was in heaven and said, “I think I love her.”
Then he shouted toward the other room, in Lola’s direction, “Don’t worry, I’ll wear you down eventually.”
All I heard from Lola in response was an annoyed groan. I turned to Ryan who was sitting next to Theo. “How are you doing this morning?” He looked as tired as Munro and there was a defeated slouch to his posture.
“Hanging tough,” he said, and I burst out laughing when Theo’s eyes widened in happy surprise, and he held up a hand for a high five.
“What’s gotten into everyone this morning?” I asked, and Ryan’s smile faded as he scrubbed his hand across his day-old beard. It was darker than the sandy blonde of his hair, and it made him look slightly more badass than his usual clean-cut look.
“Sorry, I’m a little punchy. Not a lot of sleep and too much happening.”
I nodded in understanding. “Thanks for watching over my house last night.”
“Of course. We should get everyone together and figure out what we’re going to do.”
With that, everyone headed out to the living room where Lola was flipping through a magazine, ignoring Theo when he sat down almost on top of her. Maybe it was just my opinion, but we’d been doing this family meeting thing way too often.
“Here’s the deal. We need to salt the house with a barrier spell. No one leaves the house alone.”
“Lola’s my buddy.” Theo raised his hand to interject, and Lola choked out an exasperated sound beside him. Ryan went on as if Theo hadn’t spoken.
“Butch should be back later today. We’ll see what he’s found out about the prophecy. If it means anything at all. In the meantime, we have the binding spell ready for Hattie. We’ll be ready for her the next time we see her.”
No one said anything, and I couldn’t help but feel like we were sitting ducks waiting for something bad to come to us.
***
The day flew by in a surreal fog. I helped Mari do the spell for the salt to pour around the house. Mainly I just handed her ingredients when she asked for them, but it was interesting to see her in action as she worked. It was a different kind of magic from what little I’d seen and done with Munro. I could still feel Mari’s essence wrapped in the magic as she cooked up the spell. Her magic was a combination of lilac and citrus. It was fresh and vibrant and had a soothing and comforting feel to it.
She hummed as she floated around the kitchen, and I smiled when I realized it was a Christmas tune. Even with all of the craziness happening, she’d somehow managed to get in the holiday spirit.
“Are you humming jingle bells?” I asked, groaning as it got stuck in my head.
She flashed me a huge smile. “Don’t tell me you’re a grinch?”
I held up my hands defensively. “Not at all. It’s just surprising that you’re singing Christmas carols while whipping up some magic spells.”
Mari started laughing. “Well, if Santa isn’t magic I don’t know what is.” She winked at me. “Seriously though, I love Christmas.” She leaned back against the kitchen counter, resting on her forearms. “Your mom loved Christmas too.”
“I know.” I smiled at her because that was something that had never changed with my mom. She would go crazy with decorations and way overboard with presents. I was the only kid I knew whose mom would wake her up Christmas morning. She would get that excited about me opening up gifts.
“Even when your mom was in college and she’d come back for the holiday she’d be up at the crack of dawn. She’d come into my room and poke me awake and ask if it was too early for us to get our parents up.” Mari had the look of a happy memory on her face that slowly dropped away as if it was hard to remember those good times.
“What happened to your parents?” I asked. My mom had told me her parents were gone, but I hadn’t known about Mari either, so who knew what was true.
Mari fiddled with a ring on her middle finger. She looked down at it while turning it in circles but she didn’t seem focused on anything in front of her.
“They passed away a few years ago. My mom went first. She had cancer.” Mari’s brow creased with remembered strain. “And my dad followed her the next year.” She looked up at me with a sad smile. “I’m sorry you never got a chance to meet them. They would have loved you.”
I felt a pang of loss for two people I’d never gotten a chance to meet. “Me too,” I said quietly.
As we sat there reminiscing about my mom and the family I’d never met, there was something that had been bothering me throughout all of this. I was so confused with the Caroline that Hattie had talked about and the one Mari described. The person I remembered.
Mari must have seen the questions raging inside me because she tilted her head and looked at me inquiringly. “What are you thinking about?”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to voice my thoughts out loud. But since they were obviously written all over my face I figured I didn’t have much choice.
“It’s just, I’m having a hard time aligning the mom that I knew with the person that Hattie described. My mom was one of the most caring, generous, and loving people I knew. She would help a stranger on the street, and she gave her life protecting me. How does that sync up with the person Hattie was talking about? Someone who was selfish and greedy for power?”
Mari’s face dropped. “Please don’t let Hattie’s words change how you view your mother. She was a loving and lively person. She was just young. A stupid teenager.”
I knew she was trying to make me feel better, but her words fell short. “I’m a stupid teenager by those same rights.”
“It’s not the same, Annie. Your mom and I were sheltered. Well, you could probably say pampered. We led a charmed life with little more excitement than who was having a party that weekend. Your life has been full of so much hardship and pain. You’ve had to grow up way faster than we ever did. I’m not excusing her behavior, but when we are young, we often do foolish things without thinking of the consequences. And it’s obvious those experiences changed who your mom was for the better.”
My feelings were a jumbled mess, and I didn’t want to think of my mother as someone fallible and capable of making mistakes, it was like unmasking your favorite superhero only to find out it was the person you hate most in the world. Disappointing in a word.
Mari came around the counter to grab my shoulder. “A lot of people go through life making mistakes and never learning from them. They walk away unchanged or determined to deny how their actions had an impact on others. I don’t know exactly what your mom did or how much of what Hattie said was true, even in some perverted, misremembered way. But your mom had a good heart, which is why I know she was a good mom. She would have learned from her mistakes and done everything in her power to not repeat them. And I know she was successful because you are a wonderful young woman. You care about others and are warm, even when I can tell you’re trying to keep your walls up. You are a testament to your parents, and I
know they would be so proud of who you are.”
I couldn’t look at Mari because I was fighting desperately not to cry. So I just nodded my head to acknowledge I’d heard what she said.
Thankfully the front door banged open, relieving the seriousness of our impromptu walk down memory lane. Butch was shoving his way through the front door, pulling a decently sized Christmas tree behind him. Mari’s face lit up as soon as she saw the tree.
“Butch! You are awesome!” she said as she ran over to help him maneuver the tree into the house.
“I know we’re in some deep shit here, but it didn’t seem right to have Christmas without a tree.”
Mari smiled up at his hulking form. “Yes! Let me see if I can find a tree stand and anything to decorate this bad boy down in the basement.”
With that she took off to go hunt through whatever leftovers had come with the house. Ryan and Munro had been outside spreading the spelled salt and came in not far behind Butch, while Lola came trotting down from upstairs. I moved into the living room and took a seat on the couch, my eyes catching Munro’s who looked impatient for information. I felt the same way. What had Butch found on his trip back home?
Mari returned from the basement in a surprisingly short amount of time with a stand for the tree and a box of old glass ornaments that looked fragile and delicate. She set them down as if only just realizing she’d been so distracted with the Christmas tree that she’d forgotten why Butch had been gone in the first place. Her face paled a bit, and she sat down on the couch next to me, patting my knee to offer reassurance. The only one missing was Theo who came down the steps a few minutes later, and I couldn’t help but notice that both Lola and Theo had been up there. He was looking more smug than usual, and Lola was looking anywhere in the room but at Theo. Interesting.
Everyone settled into their spots in the living room while Butch stood in front of the fireplace, resting an arm on the mantel.
“Did you find anything Butch?” I asked as soon as everyone was seated.
He squinted his eyes in a little grimace and my heart plummeted. “I did.”
He reached down to a backpack I hadn’t noticed by his feet and brought out an ancient looking book. The cover was leather that was so weathered and stained from the oil of thousands of hands touching it that parts of it looked black. There were symbols and designs carved into the leather, but they were almost flush with the rest of the leather and were impossible to decipher. The pages were yellowed vellum, and Butch was so gentle with the book and how he handled the paper that I had to smile. Here was this big mountain of a man who was infinitely careful with these precious pieces of history. It made me like him even more.
He must have found the page he was looking for because he carefully turned the book and set it on the table. Everyone leaned forward to take a look en masse, in one synchronized movement. Looking down at the page, I deflated when I saw the words.
“What language is that?” I asked. The words were written in an ornate scrawl and even if I knew what language it was written in, it still would have been difficult to interpret.
“It’s Gaelic,” Butch replied.
“And you can read it?” I asked while everyone else waited patiently for me to get out all my questions.
Butch smiled at me warmly. “I read a few different languages.”
Lola snorted on the arm of the couch where she was perched. “He speaks over a dozen. No need to be humble, Butch.”
“No need to be humble when I’ve got you to brag for me Lols,” Butch winked at his sister as Lola snorted again.
“Anyway, I found a lot of references to the prophecy but nothing that actually said what the prophecy was. Until I found this book.” Butch pointed to the volume on the table.
“What does it say?” I asked, feeling my heart start to race as I waited for his words.
“Keep in mind, this is a rough translation. Even with my knowledge of this language, it’s a bit poetic, and that stuff doesn’t always translate word-for-word.”
I nodded, indicating that he should go on. Butch rubbed his hands down the sides of his pants as if his palms were sweaty and cleared his throat.
“Sister put to earth
Sister left to mourn
Balance lost and broken
The price too heavy to be borne
Mother tempted by power
Seeks out the buried witch
A greed deadlier than poison
Propels a heart black as pitch
Souls split to protect us all
Souls parted for too long
Until fury is unleashed
Dark destruction her song
From the elemental witch
Hope arises, pure and true
Born under the solstice moon
She’ll bring balance and redemption, renewed”
Butch released his breath like the recitation made him nervous and raised his eyebrows as if to say, that’s all folks.
I could feel my face scrunched in confusion. “Does any of that mean anything to you? To anyone?” I asked, looking around the room. Some of it had made sense, some not so much.
Lola surprised me when she spoke up, “Well, if we’re going to try to connect the dots, I’d say you are the elemental witch born on the solstice,” she said in her drawl. “The mother could be Hattie, probably is Hattie. And the sisters refer to Cailleach and Áine. I have no idea what the soul business is though.”
I swore she’d be popping and cracking gum if she had a piece in her mouth, she looked so bored providing her explanation. I looked around the room to see if I was the only one feeling dumbfounded by the information Butch just shared. It was all too vague, and what did it really mean? What was Hattie going to do, raise a witch from the dead to do her bidding? Was that really something she would do? My stomach churned because I realized that was absolutely something she would do. She had been searching for more power for years. What if the reason she sought it now was to resurrect Cailleach? Was that even possible?
“Hattie wants to bring Cailleach back from the dead?” I asked in shock.
Ryan shook his head looking as confused as me. “Why? Why would she ever want to do that?”
“Can she do that?” I asked, standing up, feeling the need to work out some nervous energy.
Munro was frozen in his seat, his eyes staring off but seeing nothing.
“In theory, she might be able to if she has enough power,” Ryan answered my question, but he was looking at Munro.
“Isn’t Cailleach just a myth? I mean, where is she even buried?” Was that knowledge someone would know a couple of millennia after her death?
Munro bent forward, eyes resting on the leather book. “It’s only a legend, but the story says that she’s buried under the lia fáil, the Coronation Stone on the Hill of Tara.”
When I looked at him blankly, because I didn’t have any idea where the Hill of Tara was, he continued, “In Ireland.”
Everyone in the room was quiet as Munro spoke. “But it’s just a story. Hattie can’t possibly mean to try to raise a myth. Cailleach’s a fairy tale.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself.
“I thought magic was only a fairy tale too,” I said gently because I could tell that Munro was upset. My words weren’t meant to be cruel, just to point out how often the impossible was becoming possible lately.
“Let’s just figure out how we can find Hattie and bind her magic. I don’t know if this prophecy is any more real than the stories of Cailleach and Áine, but I can’t worry about that. I’m going to worry about what we can do right now,” Munro said with an equally gentle tone.
Ryan was trying to close off his emotions, to mask his concern as he looked at Munro, and it hit me then that Ryan had essentially raised Munro. Hattie murdered Munro’s dad when he was just over two years old. Munro had no real memories of either of his parents. All he knew of his mother was the heinous deeds she’d done in the name of revenge or in some misguided attempt at
righting a wrong that was her fault to begin with. Ryan was the one who had taken care of him and raised him to be the person he was now. My affection for Ryan swelled as that realization hit me from out of nowhere.
“Munro’s right. Let’s focus on what we can deal with here and now. I don’t know if this prophecy is real, but we’ll figure it out after we figure out how to find Hattie,” Ryan said.
“Okay,” I said, nodding at Ryan, but I lay my hand on Munro’s shoulder sensing he needed some small comfort. It was odd because as much as we could decipher, the prophecy pointed to me being the answer to stopping some ultimate evil from destroying the Earth. Sure, no biggie.
Munro didn’t look up at me, but I felt the release of his breath with my touch. Before I realized what I was doing, the tips of my fingers were touching the bare skin of his neck just above his collar. There was a small spark, still dimmed, but there nonetheless. With the connection, I could feel his muscles start to relax, and I had to fight the essential need to pull him into my arms and hold him tightly to me.
Chapter 16
I’d tuned everyone out in the room except for Munro until Mari spoke up.
“We’ll do a scrying spell to see if we can find Hattie. I’ve got everything we need in the kitchen.” With a smack of her hands on her thighs, she got up off the couch and headed to the kitchen. Brushing her hand over Ryan’s shoulder in a reassuring gesture as she walked past him.
“I’m going to go see if she needs help,” I said and followed her in.
In the kitchen, Mari was sorting through all of her supplies once again. She lined up a selection of jars of herbs and some gelatinous looking sludge that I did not want to know more about.
“How can I help?” I asked, sitting on a stool to wait for directions.
Mari immediately had me grinding herbs, and I gratefully handed them back to her when she had to add some of the weird gel to the mix. She folded the mixture together gently before setting it aside and pulling over an old phone book that was sitting on the far counter.