Crescent Legacy

by Nicole R. Taylor

  Thinking about the night of the ritual, I winced as I felt the phantom pain of Lucy’s dagger slicing my arms. The blade had cut from elbow to wrist, severing veins and parting flesh and muscle. The amount of blood pouring from me onto the ground had been horrific.

  Shaking my head, I pushed the memory away. Just thinking about it made me want to hurl.

  Lucy said Carman had her family and were using them as leverage for her to perform the ritual. Now that it was all over, what had happened to her mother, grandmother, and fifteen-year-old sister? Had Carman let them go? Doubtful. Had she even taken them in the first place? Carman couldn’t get into Ireland, but it didn’t mean much. She’d had her thugs snatch Mairead off the street in Dublin, so the same could’ve happened to the Nightshade Witches.

  But if they were free and they found out Boone took Lucy out to save me, then we would likely have a bunch of evil witches who were out for revenge to add to the pile of problems we already had. Witches who’d had their magic taken by Aileen, but… Hang on. Lucy and her sister had been spared. They’d been given a chance to redeem their coven, but look at what happened.

  Glancing at the sketch, I ran my fingers over the lines of ink, tracing the outline of the flower. Lucy’s sister…

  Where did Lucy say she was from? Galway. Where was that? I had a copy of her resume with her home address. Maybe I could wrangle a loan of Sean McKinnon’s little red Toyota Corolla again so I could go and check. Just to be on the safe side. It was about the only proactive thing—other than standing guard over Derrydun and the ancient hawthorn, aka the ultimate doorway to another plane of existence—I could do.

  Glancing at Boone, I blurted, “Hey, do you think you could convince Sean to lend me his car again?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “After last time? You’d have a better chance of spellin’ Mrs. Boyle’s broomstick…if you can pry it from her fingers.”

  I snorted, remembering our trip to Croagh Patrick. On the way back, we’d been soaked to the bone by a flurry of hungry sluagh who’d tried to drown me in the spring. Cue drenched upholstery and muddy floors. Sean wasn’t pleased, and Boone had spent an entire afternoon sucking out the muck from the interior with a wet and dry vacuum cleaner in an attempt to win back his mate.

  “It’s important.”

  “I can ask,” he said, tipping the last of the vegetables into the pot. “But I can’t make any promises.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Where are you goin’?” He put the lid on the pot and sat across from me, a concerned look on his face.

  I glanced at the spell book again. If I found them there, what would I do?

  “Skye… You’re not goin’ to find the Nightshade Witches are you?”

  “So what if I am?” I snapped, closing the spell book.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are you goin’ to kill them?”

  His words were blunt and direct and hit me right where it hurt.

  “I don’t want to, but what if I have to?”

  “Skye, you don’t—”

  “There are lots of things I don’t want to do,” I interrupted, knowing I was being a little insensitive to the fact he’d killed Lucy. Our situation had always been life and death, but facing the actual dying part wasn’t sunshine and rainbows. “But I have to do them; otherwise…” Resting my elbows on the table, I fisted my hands in my hair. “They murdered my family. They tried to murder me. She tried to murder you. How am I supposed to react to that? With lollypops and marshmallows and puppies and kittens?”

  “I didn’t say—”

  “I’m going to Galway, and I’m going to find out what happened to them. I’m going to find out the truth.” I straightened up and eyeballed Boone.

  “And if you don’t like what you find?”

  I curled my hands into tight fists, struggling to keep my anger in check. “Then I’ll do what I have to do to protect magic from those that would destroy it. If it’s taken from us, there will be nothing to protect the world from Carman and what lies on the other side of those doorways.”

  Boone nodded, his expression solemn. “Do you want me to come with you?”

  “No. I have to do this alone.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. This is Crescent business. This part, I have to do on my own.”

  He sighed, then glanced at the stove as the stew inside began to bubble. “Then I’ll ask Sean tomorrow.”

  Standing out the front of Irish Moon, I pulled down my beanie over my ears and blew out a plume of vaporized breath. Man, it was cold. Just like my mood.

  “You can wait inside, you know,” Mairead said, poking her head out the door.

  “I know, but I’ve got ants in my pants.” I shifted my weight from foot to foot, then shoved my hands inside my jacket and wedged them under my armpits for warmth. “Besides, you just want me to help you rearrange the bookcases.”

  “It wouldn’t hurt. I want to get it finished before openin’.”

  “Tourist season is winding down,” I retorted.

  “So?”

  Turning back to the street, I resumed my watch. In the distance, I could see the single set of traffic lights shining through the mist and the manufactured glow of the Topaz service station. Beyond that, the landscape melted into milky whiteness. It was all a little creepy if you asked me.

  “Still got to keep busy,” Mairead added.

  “If you say so.”

  “Where are you goin’ anyway?” she asked, still lingering behind me.

  I couldn’t really tell her I was going on a mission to find and possibly punish some really bad witches, so I gave her a smartass comment instead.

  “You’re letting out all the warm air,” I replied. “I pay for that, you know.”

  “Buy me a present, okay?” she retorted with a humph before retreating inside.

  The door slammed closed, the sound strangely muffled by the dense fog.

  A pair of headlights broke their way through the mist, and a little red car came into view. It hurtled down the road, through the red traffic light, screeched around the hawthorn, and came to a sudden stop beside me. The door flung open, and Boone got out.

  “It’s a miracle,” I declared as he rounded the bonnet and stood beside me. “How did you convince Sean?”

  “Don’t ask,” Boone drawled, his accent sounding thicker than usual. “I’m goin’ to pay for it for a while.”

  “Your torment is greatly appreciated.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” he asked, handing me the keys.

  I nodded. “I’ll be fine. I know a few more things now. It’s not like the thing with the craglorn.”

  Boone grimaced and pulled me in for a hug. “No, it’s not. It’s worse.”

  “Stop fretting like an old woman,” I complained. “I’ll let you know when I’m on the way home.”

  He smiled and kissed me on the lips.

  “What’s that for?” I asked.

  “What’s what for?”

  “That cheeky smile.”

  “I like it when you call Derrydun home.”

  “Don’t make me feel better. This is going to be hard enough as it is.”

  “There’s goin’ to be a lot of difficult decisions in the future,” Boone said. “But I know you’ll make the right one.”

  “I suppose.” Taking the keys, I kissed him on the lips.

  “Be careful.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” I said, spreading my arms out wide. “I’m a badass, remember?”

  Sliding into the driver’s seat, I hooked up my mobile phone onto the dashboard and plugged in the address on Google Maps. I gave Boone one last wave as I started up Sean’s Toyota Corolla and tore off down the road. The sooner I was there, the sooner I could be on my way back.

  It wasn’t long before the little car broke through the low-lying mist. Derrydun sat in a hollow, so while the world went on in the sunshine, the weather clung to the little valley like glue.

>   Following the directions the robotic voice spat out at me, I turned onto a highway, and then a smaller road before it narrowed into an alarmingly small stretch that had me on edge. There wasn’t much room for oncoming traffic to pass. If I edged a little too far to the side, I would write off Sean’s car, and then I would be in the cac big time. At least nothing was coming the other way.

  I spoke too soon.

  Rounding a bend, I yelped as I saw a giant truck hurtling toward me. My eyes widened and a cold sweat prickled across my forehead. I wasn’t going to make it!

  I let out a wail as the lorry blasted its horn, passing by so close I could almost smell the driver’s armpits. It receded into the distance, leaving me shaken.

  “Where the hell are you taking me?” I screamed at the map. “This place is a deathtrap!”

  The little red car coasted, and finally, the road opened up, giving me some breathing space. I knew this place was absolutely bonkers, but driving in this country was like performing a death-defying stunt. All that was missing were the pyrotechnics.

  Ahead, a brown and white sign appeared on the side of the road. It read, Failte go Co. na Gaillimhe. Welcome to County Galway. At least I was almost there.

  At least… It was becoming my favorite sentence add-on lately. At least, like it could be worse. Well, it could be, but I didn’t like having to choose the lesser of two evils. I would rather not choose at all, to be honest.

  The countryside flashed by, morphing into small villages, then back to wide open greenery before the outer limits of the city of Galway began to take hold. I knew the town sat on the coast, but I wouldn’t have time to visit the seaside or do any souvenir shopping in the center. Cod and chips with a side of Guinness merchandise were not on today’s menu.

  Bypassing the city center, the map took me across a river and into a more modern residential area. Twisting and turning through the warren of streets, I came to a stop down the street from the address Lucy had given on her resume. I turned off the engine and listened to it clicking as it cooled in the chilly autumn air.

  Thanks to Google Street View, I recognized the house at the end of the street. It was white with a russet-colored roof and matching window shutters. A little beige car sat in the stubbly little driveway, and the garden was green and full of lush plants. It was all quaint and normal. Nothing sinister about it at all. I was half expecting a fence made of human skulls and a house comprised of gingerbread and icing.

  I didn’t know how long I sat there stewing in my own juices. All I had to do was get out of the car, walk up to the front door, and knock. The bit that came after was the mystery. What was waiting for me on the other side? A full-on magical fistfight, or tea and scones?

  What a metaphor! I knew another set of doors with exactly the same problem.

  Movement caught my attention in the passenger side mirror, and I slid down in the seat. A girl was walking down the footpath, her head down. Earphones were stuck in her ears with the white cord trailing down to her pocket.

  She was wearing a school uniform—a green tartan skirt, gray jumper, matching tie, and a forest-green blazer—with a heavy-looking backpack slung sloppily over her shoulder. Her wild blonde curls were pulled back into a ponytail, fixed in place with a black ribbon.

  I watched her as she passed, really starting to feel like a creepy pervert. This was what they warned kids about at school. Stranger danger. If it weren’t for the fact I could sense what she was, I would’ve checked myself and turned around before the police knocked on the window.

  I snorted. The Nightshade Witches didn’t just perform blood rituals, they were into wagging school as well!

  The girl—Lucy’s sister—walked up to the front door of the house and let herself inside, then the street was empty again.

  Now or never.

  I got out of the car and strode along the footpath toward the little cottage. Pushing open the gate, I ignored the quaint little garden with its daisies and roses interlaced with nightshade plants and knocked on the door. Footsteps echoed inside, and I tensed, my heart galloping in my chest. That, and I felt like rushing to the loo.

  When the door opened, I was surprised to see a woman in her fifties standing on the other side. Curly strawberry-blonde hair, freckled nose, green eyes… It was Lucy’s mother.

  When she saw me, her expression fell, and she tried to slam the door in my face. I shoved back with my magic, forcing the woman to stumble, and stepped inside the cottage.

  “Christine!” she shrieked as I advanced.

  The moment I crossed the threshold, I could feel traces of Nightshade magic, and I knew… Lucy’s family was never kidnapped. They’d never left home at all. It was hard to say if Lucy knew or if she actually believed Carman was holding them. I wanted to say the latter, but it made no difference now. What was done, was done.

  The girl rushed out of a room to the side with her hands in the air. Her magic had the bitter taste that Lucy’s had the night of the ritual. I threw up my own palms to counter her, and she fell to her knees the moment my power came to life.

  An old woman appeared at the end of the hall, her mouth falling open when she saw me standing in the hallway.

  “You know who I am,” I said. “So you know what I can do.”

  “Crescent bitch,” the old woman snarled.

  Her words sliced through me, bringing forth the vision the hawthorn had shown me of the burning in the forest. Nightshade Witches had murdered my great-grandmother, my grandmother, and my aunt. I’d heard her say those words before.

  “That’s right,” I said, not liking how this situation was unfolding. “I’m the biggest Crescent bitch of all.”

  “Lucy… I know what you did to her.”

  “It didn’t have to be this way,” I murmured, looking down on what was left of the Nightshade Witches. “You could’ve joined me in fighting Carman. I don’t want to…”

  “All this is your fault,” the grandmother said. “All our sufferin’ started the moment you severed our connection with the other realm.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, but it wasn’t worth it. I could tell them all about what Carman planned to do. I could tell them the doorways were closed to save them from even more suffering, but I knew they wouldn’t listen. They’d made up their minds a long time ago, long before they chose to burn my family at the stake.

  “I want to make things right,” I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “But you took my family away from me. You conspired with the enemy. You were prepared to sacrifice the birthright of all the witches of Ireland in the name of petty revenge. You’ll never understand true sacrifice.” Sometimes, we had to do terrible things for the greater good to prevail.

  “Who do you think you are?” the mother cried.

  “The only witch who’s prepared to fight for magic, no matter what,” I replied. “Aileen gave you a chance to go on after you murdered our entire family, a chance you didn’t deserve. Lucy made her choice when she joined Carman. You gave up. You gave your coven to evil. You took the coward’s way out. Now I’m here to take your magic away for good. The greater good.”

  “No!” the girl exclaimed. “Please! You can’t take our Legacy!”

  “I’m sorry it had to come to this.” I raised my hands and called on my magic. “This is where the Nightshade Witches end. For good this time.”

  Chapter 3

  My eyes snapped open, and I sat up, my heart thumping.

  The images my dream had conjured up began to fade, and I shoved them away roughly, not wanting to relive them. For once, I was glad I couldn’t remember what my brain hallucinated during the night.

  Rubbing the grit from my eyes, I sighed. My legs were tangled in the quilt, and I was damp. The sweaty kind of damp, thank you very much. My underboob area was particularly moist.

  Glancing at the clock, I saw it was five minutes to nine a.m.

  “Shoot!” I exclaimed, leaping from the bed. My legs caught in the sheets, and I hurtled toward the floo
r. Landing on my side, I rolled and sprang to my feet. Holding out my hands, I let out a whoop. “An epic save, and no one was around to see it!”

  I showered and applied my makeup in a daze, my mind playing over yesterday’s confrontation in Galway. It didn’t feel good being that person. I wanted people to like me, I wanted to be accepted, and I wanted to belong, but my birthright was an automatic ticket to prejudice.

  Yesterday, I’d been the bad guy, and it had sucked big-time.

  Whatever happened next, one thing was certain. Carman had to go. I couldn’t banish her, and I couldn’t imprison her, so I had to kill her. Gone, finito, kaput. For all time. I couldn’t allow anything to get in my way because I would only have one shot.

  Shivering, I closed the bathroom door and thudded downstairs to the kitchen. There was a note on the table, handwritten in Comic Sans. It read, I’ve gone to open the shop. I demand a raise. Mairead.

  Sighing, I dabbed at my eyes, trying not to smudge my mascara. I asked a lot of that girl, and she jumped, no questions asked. Maybe I should give her a raise. Wait…I gave her free rent, so I should probably play that card first.

  I grabbed my jacket from the back of the chair and threw it on as I bolted out the door. Slamming it behind me, I heard the lock click into place, then I legged it across the garden, slipped around the corner like an ice skater, and made for Irish Moon.

  The lights were on, casting warm light onto the murky footpath. Opening the door, the little bell jingled as I stepped into the cozy shop. The crystals hummed around me, their energy calming my aura.

  Mairead was sitting behind the counter, drawing furiously in a sketchbook. Her long black hair was loose today, and she had on a fluffy black cardigan. Matching black lipstick and eyeliner finished off her classic goth look for the day.

  “You were home late last night,” she said, not even taking a moment to glance up from her work.