The Librarian's Treasure

by Katherine H Brown

  “You’ll find a squat little laundry room around the back, connected off one of the kitchens. I’ll say that for the family. They did go in for modern updates over the years, even added my own little bathroom when they put plumbing in.” Conor grinned. “The place I worked before settling here still had an outhouse, and I must say, I appreciate not having to run through the rain to take care of business at my age.”

  Raegan laughed all the way to the castle. Inside, she stood in the hallway, chewing her lip. Where to explore first, she wondered. A faint glow at the end of the hallway drew her attention, and she found herself moving toward it. She passed several rooms without a glance. At the hall’s end, she turned left after the glow and was surprised to find it further away than she expected. Orange with a hint of green at the edges, it danced and shimmied as she drew close, disappearing at last into a room on the right. Perplexed, she entered the room.

  “Oh!” Raegan paused in surprise at the vaulted glass ceiling. The addition of two walls of floor-to-ceiling windows created a cozy conservatory, complete with stunning views of the sea lapping at the shore. The view took her breath away. There were no plants at that time, only plant stands and pots scattered haphazardly around the room. Amongst those, Raegan saw four unique statues of green-garbed little men.

  She stepped closer, admiring the lifelikeness of the statues.

  “Top of the mornin’.” One of the little men inclined his head with a cheeky grin.

  “Aigrh!” Raegan gave a strangled cry, leaping backward.

  “Now, what kind of greeting is that, lass?” He tapped his cane. “After all, we’re practically family.”

  Raegan caught her breath and studied the men. “Don’t tell me—the League of Leprechauns that Drake mentioned?”

  “In the flesh.” The youngest man with flaming hair smiled. Truly flaming.

  Raegan stared in wonder, not at all sure how his head didn’t blister under the dancing red-orange flames.

  The man with the cane hopped up, surprisingly spry for his appearance, and made introductions. “I’m Ronan. This is Aiden, Oran, and Brandon.”

  Raegan looked from the first man to each in turn as he told her their names. She tried to find a way to tell the three bearded men apart. Aiden, with his fiery hair, would be easy. When Oran spoke, she knew she would never forget him, either. His voice was beautiful. There was no other way to describe it.

  “A pleasure,” he said.

  Two small words. Yet they floated around the room, lilting and sweet, conjuring images of butterflies, rainbows, and bright smiles in her mind. His voice was made to tell stories.

  The last man gave a simple bow, and Raegan decided he must be a man more apt to think than to speak. Nessa, she noticed, wound her way around his feet, purring. The man gave the kitten a small grin.

  She turned back to Ronan with a smile. “I’m Raegan. But then, I’m guessing you already know that.”

  “Aye. Know it we do. Pleased to meet you we are.” Aiden grinned.

  Ronan turned serious eyes on Aiden, and the fiery-haired man’s grin faded as he sat back down on an overturned pot. “Good you’ve come, it is. The people need you.” Ronan’s somber eyes matched his grave tone.

  “I don’t understand.” Raegan sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Drake said you mentioned a village to save. Were you talking about this village? It looks perfectly fine. Beautiful, in fact, with sweet people.”

  “On the surface, yes. But beyond?” Ronan regarded her carefully, fingers tapping gently on his cane.

  Raegan frowned thoughtfully. “Do you mean Lord Donovan and his treatment of his tenants?” She began to pace. “I don’t really see how I can do anything about that. Even if I stayed here,” she rounded on the leprechauns and held up a finger, “which I’m not sure about yet, that won’t change how he treats people. He might even decide to develop his resort on a smaller piece of land and move forward anyway.” She shrugged.

  “Not sure if you’re staying, you say.” Ronan eyed her. “Tell me, lass, what do you see when you walk this little village? When you admire the view from this castle?”

  Raegan crossed her arms. “Beauty. Nature. Wild plants and animals. Bright colors. An untamable sea and rugged coast. Quaint cottages and people.”

  “Aye. It is all those things.” Ronan nodded. “But now close your eyes. Tell me, what does it make you feel?”

  Raegan closed her eyes. She could almost feel the salty breeze, the mist in the air. Her memories transported her back to that first glimpse over the hilltop at her home below.

  Home.

  That was what she felt.

  “Home,” she answered. “Full. Blessed. Connected. Those are the things I feel,” she admitted to herself, as well as to Ronan and the others. “A piece of my heart is still with Evie and Lorcan and my library, but I feel my parents here, and I feel content.” She rubbed her forehead in frustration. “So, yes, to your point, I would hate to see any part of this village paved over. That still doesn’t help matters. It isn’t like I have a say over what happens to the land.”

  “You could.” Brandon spoke for the first time, the soft sound barely more than a hum.

  “But how?” Raegan cried in frustration, throwing her arms out. “I’m just—me!”

  Ronan smiled, a small sad smile. “Wish we could tell ye, I do, but that is not the way of things. Listen closely, lass. Mayhap Oran can help you find the right path.”

  Oran sat and pulled a pipe from beneath his hat. “The story of your father and mother, the one you want to know, that story must wait.”

  Raegan’s jaw dropped. Had he read her mind? Before she could ask a thing, Oran continued.

  “For now, listen to the tale of the leprechaun king and his fate.”

  If Raegan had thought Oran’s voice beautiful and musical before, it was nothing compared to the tranquil notes and sweet melody that came to life as he began to sing the tale. Nessa trotted over and lay at her feet as they listened together.

  “The leprechaun king,

  Kind was he,

  Friend of man

  And healer of the land.

  The leprechaun king

  Ruled for years on end;

  Never met a being who wasn’t a friend.

  The leprechaun king

  Spread good fortune far and wide,

  But as time passed so many of his friends died.

  The leprechaun king,

  With treasure so high,

  Ached with emptiness inside.

  The leprechaun king

  Traveled here and there,

  Happened one day upon a maid so fair.

  The leprechaun king

  Felt his heart come alive

  And vowed the maid to be his wife.

  The leprechaun king

  Begot an enemy then.

  The maid’s father refused him his daughter’s hand.

  The leprechaun king

  The beautiful maid did love in return.

  She married him, her father’s rath she earned.

  The leprechaun king

  Set his magic free

  For love, mortal he chose to be.

  The leprechaun king,

  His vast treasure he hid away

  In hopes with his wife to return some day.

  The leprechaun king

  Said goodbye to his land,

  Sailing away, he and his wife hand in hand.

  The leprechaun king

  From then on seen no more

  Left behind a daughter, the treasure to restore.”

  As the tune floated away, Raegan blinked and sputtered. “Are you saying the leprechaun king was my father? Seriously? King?”

  Brandon flicked his wrist, and a scrap of parchment floated to the floor at her feet. An odd green swirl of smoke rose from Oran’s pipe as she bent to retrieve the paper. When Raegan stood up, the little men were gone.

  20.

  H ave you ever heard of a leprechaun king?” Raegan swept
a strand of hair from her eyes as she and Conor stood outside the castle, watching the sea. After several hours distractedly cleaning up inside, which mostly involved stripping linens and curtains and throwing them into hallways, then wrestling Nessa out of them before moving to the next room, Raegan had asked Conor for a tour of the grounds. It would do her and Nessa both some good to get some fresh air.

  “Can’t say as I’ve heard of one, no. Why do you ask?” Conor tucked his thumbs into his pockets, smiling as usual.

  “No reason,” Raegan shrugged. She wished Drake were there. She could tell him what the League had said. At least they could get a laugh out of her being called a leprechaun princess together. She couldn’t quite bring herself to tell Conor something that sounded so absurd, though.

  As they walked on around the back corner of the house, she fingered the folded piece of paper in her pocket. The paper Brandon left for her held the lines of Oran’s song on one side, for which Raegan was infinitely grateful. Trying to commit something so lengthy to memory after hearing it only once would have been difficult. On the other side was a short line written in that odd vernacular that the leprechauns spoke. She was having difficulty working out the riddle.

  “This is a small garden I’ve been using for myself.” Conor’s voice intruded upon her thoughts. “If you’re interested, we could expand it in the fall. There’s plenty of good ground, and you could plant a number of foods. Might save you some trips into the village to the market.”

  “Mm-hmm.” Raegan nodded assent, working hard to pay more attention. “What’s growing now?”

  Conor chuckled. “Potatoes, mostly, I’m a good Irishman after all. A few greens, as well.”

  Raegan laughed and made a mental note to visit the market and see what they had to offer. “I guess it is a good thing I’m rather fond of potatoes myself, then.”

  Nessa stalked a dragonfly through the neatly laid out rows of vegetables. Raegan feared the kitten would mess up Conor’s garden, but when he let out a loud laugh at the kitten’s failed attempt to catch her prey, Raegan let her be.

  “We’ve seen the old outhouse, what used to be a kitchen garden, the family cemetery,” Raegan paused, sad once more that her mother wasn’t there with her family where she belonged. She would have to see that she brought her ashes over and perhaps added them to the little plot somehow, or released them into the ocean behind the castle. She swallowed. “And your lovely garden here. Is there anything else to see?”

  Conor grinned, an infectious grin full of life and, if she had to guess, just a little mischief. “As a matter o’ fact, there is one more thing. I’ve been saving the best for last.” Picking up Nessa, the old man sauntered away, humming to himself.

  Raegan rolled her eyes good-naturedly and followed him around yet another corner of the castle’s stone walls. That time, he led her in the direction of the outer perimeter wall toward the ocean, judging by the sound of crashing waves growing louder. When Conor came to a stop a few steps from the wall, Raegan frowned. She didn’t see anything but more wall and a few bushes. While the bushes were large, she didn’t see anything special about them.

  “Here we are,” Conor handed over Nessa. “Best hold on to the little tike.”

  “Okay.” Raegan agreed, still confused.

  As she rubbed between Nessa’s ears, earning a satisfied purr, Conor plucked one of the bushes up and moved it aside to reveal a hole, waist-high, in the wall. Raegan gaped in surprise.

  Conor cackled at the expression on her face. “Fake bush,” he wiggled it. “Your mother like to sit just outside this wall and watch the waves, but she knew she needed to be able to get back in quickly if your grandfather was looking for her. She enlisted my help in acquiring the bush, but she worked diligently as a girl to carve out her little hideaway all by herself.”

  Raegan knelt down in the dirt and poked her head through to the other side. “What are these growing out here?” she asked, looking at the forlorn and straggly plants on one side of the hole.

  “Well now, let me see.” Conor waited for her to move and then peered out. “I’ll be! Wild roses. They’ll be a beauty when they bloom, if they survive. Looks like they could use a little tending.”

  “I’ll take care of them,” Raegan decided. That spot, her mother’s spot, would be another way to connect with her. She would care for the plants as she imagined her mother had done. “Thank you for showing me.”

  “Of course, lass. If truth be told, I think this is where your father and she met.” He carefully replaced the fake bush. “I don’t know for a fact, now, but I can remember seeing her come back in one night, and her face, it was positively glowing with happy. The stars couldn’t have shined brighter that night.”

  Raegan smirked. She never would have guessed her parents had such an intriguing story. She wished they were there to tell it. Instead, she’d just have to find a way to make Oran tell her sometime.

  “Well,” Conor dusted his hands off. “I’d best be back to work. Let me know if you need anything.” Tipping his hat, he left her in her thoughts and returned to the front of the castle.

  Raegan waited until they’d ventured away from the hole in the wall to put Nessa down. Then, she pulled the scrap of paper from her front pocket and reread it as she wandered aimlessly after her exploring kitten.

  A treasure of the heart is a treasure in the hands, blessed by the leprechaun king, only to be found by one who wields the magic for the lands.

  Raegan didn’t wield an ounce of magic that she knew of. Green smoke didn’t arise on command, her voice was more akin to a squeaky wheel than a mystical tune if she chose to sing, and she couldn’t read minds. She decided to ignore the magic references and focus on the first half of the puzzle. Perhaps if she could find the heart of the castle, she thought excitedly, there would be another secret door or tunnel to the treasure. Her parents did seem to have an affinity for hidden entrances, after all, she thought with a rueful grin.

  “Nessa,” she called. “Let’s get back inside!”

  Raegan started in what she figured to be the centermost point of the castle—the dining hall. She ripped dustcovers off of the table and chairs, adding them to the growing pile of laundry, then inspected each table leaf for inscriptions or secret drawers. She carefully turned all of the heavy, thick wooden chairs upside down in the hopes that she would find something secured to the bottoms. She crawled beneath the long bench on one side of the table, collecting nothing but cobwebs and dust bunnies for her efforts. Her meticulous search extended to running her fingertips along all of the nooks and crannies in the walls, tapping her foot every six inches on the stone floor, and generally wishing to find something, anything, that would help her figure out how the League expected her to save the village.

  Nothing.

  Undeterred, she turned her eyes upward to a large candelabra chandelier that predated when electricity had been added to the castle. She climbed up onto the table and reached, but it was no good. She couldn’t touch even the lowest branch.

  21.

  D rake quickened his steps. Dún Castle was in sight, and he couldn’t wait to return.

  Though he’d planned to be gone longer, everything at the pub was in order. His barkeep was perfectly capable of managing without him, and the patrons had all been on decent behavior. A few arguments, but no violence. With things running smoothly, Drake didn’t see any reason to stick around after a day and a night. On top of that, he didn’t want to. The pub had lost its appeal since he’d stopped drinking.

  As he walked briskly down the long hill, Drake felt droplets of rain splash onto his arms and head. Soon, the droplets turned into lashings as the skies opened up and released a downpour. Almost to one of the abandoned cabins, Drake jogged off the path and across a field to take shelter inside.

  Drake slammed the door shut behind him and turned to survey the front room. A table and chairs sat in a corner, and other than one small leak in the roof, the place was dry. Much to his disappointment,
the fireplace yawned, empty of wood and kindling. He pulled out a chair and sat with a sigh. He’d left at dawn that morning. A small nap as he waited would be just the thing, he decided, as he kicked his boots off and rested his feet on the tabletop.

  22.

  F or the second day in a row, Raegan combed the castle, looking for hiding spots. Nessa pounced on her feet as she crawled around her third fireplace, looking for movable bricks or fire-poker handles. Maybe thinking of fireplaces as the heart of a room was a bit of a stretch, but that silly riddle was driving her crazy.

  She rocked back on her heels and scooped up the little ball of energy. “What are you complaining about? You’ve had nothing but playtime all day.” She smiled at the purr of her sweet kitten as she rubbed her ears and neck. Nessa stretched, arching her back toward Raegan’s hand.

  A commotion drew Raegan’s attention. A loud bang echoed from the front hallway, followed by yelling.

  “I told you, you aren’t welcome here. Get out.”

  Raegan recognized Conor’s voice and frowned.

  “Move, old man!” Lord Donovan’s voice rang out. There was a thud. “Tie him up,” Lord Donovan barked.

  Raegan froze. The sound of angry footsteps thumped their way closer.

  Should she hide? Run? Before she could make up her mind, Nessa meowed in discomfort at her tightening grip.

  “Well, well, well.” Lord Donovan’s icy voice sent shivers down Raegan’s spine. Nessa slipped from her hands and scampered away to swat at some dust beneath the kitchen table.

  Raegan stood and inched closer to the fireplace. “Where is Conor?” she forced her voice not to quiver.

  “He’s having a little lie down. The old fool shouldn’t have gotten in my way.” Lord Donovan placed both hands on his hips. “I presume you’ve had time to consider my generous offer?”

  “Your offer?” Raegan glared. “You mean your threats? I’m not selling you anything.” She hoped Conor was okay. She had to get out of there and check on him.