Magic Harvest

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Magic Harvest Page 18

by Karlik, Mary


  Buzzard nodded. “Go now. If there is any sign of trouble, you and Theo take the van and get the fairies to the flat.”

  The spirit raised his hand. “If I may. The church and this space is safe from those who would harm the wee folk, as it were. They are protected here.” He looked from under his brows at Buzzard. “Does that information help?”

  “Aye.” Buzzard nodded toward Jack. “You and Theo bring the fairies back.”

  Layla started toward the arched passage. “I should go. They might need my help.”

  The priest shook his head. “You are safer in here. Your friends do not carry the same—signature as you.”

  She turned to Buzzard. “He means the Dark Harvester can sense my magic.”

  Buzzard turned to Jack. “Go.”

  Layla sat next to Ian and held his hand. “Hang in there, wee man.”

  He opened his eyes and forced a smile. “I’d be a bit easier if you’d stop calling me wee.”

  She squeezed his hand. “Aye. If that’s all it takes.” She studied the pallor in his face and tried to be grateful that his skin hadn’t taken on a green hue. At least, not yet. “Tell me about your sister and brother.”

  He squinted up at her. “Those are the kinds of things you say to comfort a dying man. I’m no going to die, so you can shove those questions out of your mind.”

  “Dying? No. I’m just passing the time until Jack returns with a lolly to make you feel better about the wee cut.”

  A weak smile crossed Ian’s lips as he closed his eyes.

  Layla looked up at the spirit. “Do you know healing?”

  “Only of the soul, lass.” The priest motioned Layla to the corner of the room. “There is one. The Wise Wife of Keith. I can’t say she’ll come, but I can try.” He shifted his eyes to the ceiling above her. “I must go for now. Remember, you are safe as long as you are in the confines of the church.”

  Buzzard walked back and forth across the chamber. “Why are we safer here?”

  “Evil cannot enter a holy place.” Layla returned to Ian’s side and took his hand again. “You stay with me. We’re not going to let the dragon win.”

  “That’s my plan.” He squeezed her hand. Then his palm grew heavy in hers.

  Her pulse quickened in a little burst of alarm as she checked his breathing. Shallow and steady, but he was alive. Covering his cool, limp hand with hers, she choked back the tears trying to reach her cheeks. They’d saved some of the fairies, but at what cost? And there were so many more. Would Esme be in the sacks? Was she stuck in a globe? Had she already been sold?

  Layla took a deep breath and watched Buzzard pace like a caged animal. “I know it’s not ideal. It’s damp and cold, but it is safer than out there.”

  Buzzard stopped walking. “Aye. I believe he’s safer from evil, but what about the blood loss? What about infection? He needs proper medical help.”

  Ian moaned, jerking her attention to the gash in his arm. Instinctively her wings opened and closed as she clutched her throat. Her reaction wasn’t from the ooze of blood from his wound. It was from the spark of iridescent green deep inside it.

  She bent closer to the wound. Please, no. It can’t be.

  Jack and Theo returned each carrying a bag of fairies. Jack gently set his bag in the corner and shrugged a rucksack off his shoulders.

  Theo placed his bag next to the one Jack had carried and carefully lifted fairies out of it, laying them on the stone floor. Buzzard crossed the room to help Theo with the fey. He lifted a Rose fairy from the bag and turned to Layla. “Your weapons.”

  “Aye, yes. Of course.” She skirted the wall on the opposite side of the room until she cleared the archway. She stashed her sword and sgian-dubh in a far corner of the alcove outside.

  Jack knelt next to Ian and opened the top of the rucksack. “He should go to A&E, but I don’t fancy explaining that a dragon caused this. If you have some special fey healing powers, now would be the time to use them.”

  She wrapped her wings around her shoulders. “I don’t know a spell to heal him, but I have some knowledge of herbs. I don’t suppose you have jewelweed, linden, and lavender in that bag of yours?”

  Jack shook his head. “Not hardly.”

  Theo held a fairy in his hands. “I know a place. It’s not far.” He laid the fairy on the ground and straightened. “It’s a shop where my mum gets her herbs. They can make a salve. Would that help?”

  “Aye.” She watched the men lay the fairies out on the stone. “Can you get an elixir as well? Rosehips, ginger, and honey.”

  Theo stood in the arched opening. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Keep him alive.”

  Jack snapped blue gloves on his hands. “Aye.” He pulled a small vial and a syringe from his pack. “This will deaden the area so I can clean and sew it.” He drew the liquid from the vial into the syringe and injected it into the flesh around the gash.

  Green sparked in the center of Ian’s wound. Jack jerked back. “What was that?”

  “Dragon poison.” A female voice sounded from the shadows beyond the vault.

  Layla stood. “Are you the healer?”

  A figure moved into the light. Her hair had been shorn. She wore a ragged shift that fell to just below her knees. Her legs, arms, neck, and face were covered with bruises, nicks, and cuts. Her feet were bare and bloody.

  Jack looked up from Ian. “I take it there’s another ghost.”

  Layla turned to the spirit. “It would be helpful if he could see you.”

  The spirit rubbed her arms. “Aye.”

  Layla knew the instant Jack saw the healer. His eyes grew wide and his hands shook slightly as he took in her battered appearance, but he remained focused on Ian as he directed her to the wound. “Tell me what to do.”

  She moved further into the vault and knelt over Ian. “You need to remove the poison before it digs in.” She looked at Layla. “You can’t wait for your man to return with the balm. Do you have something to dig it out with?”

  Jack riffled through the bag. “How about hemostats?”

  She inspected the instrument. “That’ll do.”

  Jack’s face paled as he held the hemostats over Ian’s wound.

  The spirit moved closer. “Take hold of each green bead and pull until the tail comes out. There is a spike at the end of the tail. It won’t be easy.”

  Jack held the wound open with one hand and inserted the instrument into the tissue with the other. “I’ve numbed the area, but if it’s deep he’ll feel it.”

  The spirit turned to Buzzard. “He’ll need to be held strong.”

  Buzzard knelt on Ian’s good side and placed a hand on each of Ian’s shoulders. “Ready.”

  Jack poked a green spark and an iridescent green bead rose to the surface. He clamped the teeth of the hemostats around the head of the bead and looked at Layla as though he was asking permission.

  She nodded and said to Ian, “This is going to hurt, big man.”

  The bead had a long tail, and the spike at the end had anchored it deep within the wound. Jack worked it until it was free of the tissue and dropped it on the floor next to Ian. Then he pulled out another. And another. Each bead was more embedded than the last.

  When he captured the teeth around the fourth bead, it didn’t budge. Ian screamed and bucked against Buzzard’s hold.

  Jack held tightly to the bead and rubbed his brow against his upper arm. “Hold him down.”

  Buzzard laid his forearms across Ian’s chest. “Go ahead.”

  Jack pulled harder.

  Ian screamed again and struggled against Buzzard’s hold.

  When the bead pulled loose, the tail was the length of a man’s hand.

  The spirit floated overhead. “The rest won’t be any easier.”

  Ian’s breaths were rapid and deep and his face dripped with sweat. “Just get it done.”

  Jack took hold of the next bead and pulled. Ian screamed. The next two beads were worse.

  After droppi
ng the last bead on the ground, Jack inspected the wound. “I don’t see any more.” He stripped his gloves and mopped his face with his shirttail.

  Layla looked at the spirit. “Is there is a possibility that some of the poison made it into his bloodstream?”

  “Aye. Only time will tell.” The spirit moved closer to Layla. “You look as if a gentle breeze would knock you over, fairy. You need to rest. The battle ahead won’t be an easy one.”

  Layla reached out to the spirit, but her hand went right through her arm. “What do you see of the battle?”

  The spirit shook her head. “There are things you haven’t discovered in yourself, fairy. Use your magic honorably.” She looked behind her as if she were being chased, and fled the room.

  “Discover what I am. What does that mean?” Layla yelled into the air, but the spirit was gone.

  Layla looked at the fairies stretched out on the floor. She couldn’t do much for Ian now, but perhaps she could help them.

  Jack donned fresh gloves. “I’m going to flush the wound and sew it up. I’ll add more numbing medicine, but it’s going to be uncomfortable. I know you’re anxious to get to your people, but I could use a bit more help.”

  “Of course.” She knelt across from Jack. “Tell me what to do.”

  He handed her a pair of scissors. “When I tell you, snip the thread.” He clamped a curved needle into the teeth of an instrument. “This is probably going to leave an ugly scar.”

  Ian whispered, “It’ll be a conversation piece.” He looked at Layla from under lids too heavy to stay open. “The ghost is right—you need to rest.”

  She wanted to say she couldn’t rest until she’d found Esme. Instead, she winked and said, “And who’s the one lying on the floor with a gaping gash? You need to heed your own words, wee—erm, big man.”

  “Aye.” He closed his eyes and fell into the rhythmic breathing of a sleeping man.

  Layla clipped the thread after each knot Jack sewed into the tissue. The process was tiresome or maybe it was because she was anxious to look for Esme among the fairies. When Jack finished with the inside of the wound and began on the skin, he worked more slowly, and with smaller stitches. Layla was glad to be able to contribute, but that didn’t keep her mind or her eyes from wandering to the fairies Buzzard was so carefully laying on the stone floor.

  When Jack finished the last stitch and she clipped it, he wrapped a bandage around Ian’s upper arm.

  Layla scanned the fairies but spoke to the men. “We all need to keep a watch on that wound. If there are more green sparks or anything unusual, I need to know.”

  Jack stopped repacking his rucksack long enough to focus on Layla. “What will happen if the dragon poison is in his blood?”

  She offered a weak smile. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The triumphs of the day mixed with its crushing defeats weighed on Layla as she crossed the room to the fairies.

  “Here you go, wee one. It’s all over now.” Buzzard spoke in a soothing tone as he gazed down at the Lilac fairy cradled in his giant hands.

  Layla watched him gently place her on the cold stone floor, and her sagging soul warmed.

  Without looking away from the fey, he spoke to Layla. “How is Ian?”

  She knelt next to him. “Safe for now. Time will tell if his body absorbed any of the dragon blood.”

  “And how will it affect him?” He reached into the bag.

  “It’s hard to say. It could be very little... or it could change him.” She opened the second bag containing the fairies.

  Buzzard closed his eyes briefly. “So it’s a wait and see.”

  “And hope that if he is affected, it’s very little.” She reached into the bag and slid a Columbine lad into her hands. It occurred to her that without her ability to change human-sized, she couldn’t have held this delicate creature. Tightness squeezed her chest as she studied the fairy. It no longer mattered that she’d been teased by many and considered an outcast by most, because she was saving the lives of her people. With every fairy they laid on the stone, her soul rejoiced that they’d freed one more from the cage.

  But when the last fey was placed on the floor and Esme wasn’t among them, her heart sank and her stomach tightened. Her sister had to be stuck in one of those horrible globes.

  She had failed Esme. She had killed Isla.

  And the cràdh awoke and rose to the center of her chest with such force her heart recoiled. Whether it was the spirit’s taunting along with fatigue, or the raw emotions that churned inside her, or a combination of it all, she could no longer deny the tears that demanded to be let loose. With her back against the wall and her arms wrapped around her drawn-up knees, she bowed her head and let the tears come. And with them, came body-shaking sobs.

  Esme. Where are you?

  A heavy hand rested on her shoulder followed by Buzzard’s deep voice. “We will find your sister.”

  Layla raised her head and swiped at tears that refused to stop flowing. “What if we don’t? I don’t know what I’m doing. Ian is injured. Isla is dead. How many more will suffer—or worse, die—because I’m trying to do the impossible? I can’t do this.”

  “That sounds more like that cràdh thing inside you. Look around you, lass. You saved all these fairies. They will not suffer because you wouldn’t give up.”

  She sniffed. “But I killed Isla.”

  His eyes were soft. Kind. “It was an accident.”

  “I was too confident, too impatient, too sure that I knew what I was doing. You were right. I was reckless.”

  “I was wrong. You’ve done things no one else would do. Don’t judge yourself so harshly. You are brave and you are strong. Remember that. Try not to think about what could have been. You can’t change that. We need that magical mind of yours to focus on what is and what can be.”

  She rested her chin on her crossed arms. “There are so many more fairies to save. I fear the battle hasn’t even begun.”

  “Aye. But we’ll get them. And we’ll get your sister too.”

  She sniffed and brushed the last of the tears from her cheeks. “Thank you.”

  He rubbed his palm over his short hair. “No thanks necessary. We’re a team.” He glanced toward the alcove. “And your medicine has arrived.”

  Theo entered through the arched doorway. “How’s Ian?”

  Jack took the jar of salve from Theo. “Holding his own.” He turned to Layla. “What do I do with this?”

  “Cover the wound with it. It’ll help it heal without infection setting in.” She took the bottle of elixir from Theo and tasted a drop on her finger. “Perfect.”

  As she administered the liquid to the fey, the sorrow in her chest began to ease. Within minutes of receiving the medicine, color returned to the fairies’ faces, several were able to stand, and they were all able to sit up and talk.

  A blond fairy from the Narcissus clan faced Layla. “Thank you for saving us.” She clapped and rest of the fey joined in.

  Layla fey-sized and hugged each and every one of them. When she finished, she flew to the center of their gathering. “The tears that flow down my face are tears of joy. You are alive. You’ve escaped a horrible fate. But there are many others who are not so lucky. Today we lost one from my own Thistle clan.”

  The crowd moaned. Someone called, “Tell us the name.”

  The memory of Isla shaking her head in a plea not to shatter the glass dug into Layla’s heart and her throat became almost too dry for the name to pass across it. “Isla.”

  Sniffles filtered through the crowd as they hung their heads. A few wiped tears from their cheeks.

  The Narcissus fairy fluttered her wings. “What you did here was amazing. How many others?”

  “At least this many are still imprisoned.”

  She flew next to Layla. “Whatever you need, I’ll help.”

  “Me too.” A ginger-haired fey stepped forward.

  “Cou
nt me in,” a dark-haired lad said.

  Then she heard me too from all around the room and warmth filled her. “Thank you, everybody.” Biting back emotions that would surely bring another wave of tears, she shouted over the noise. “Please, everyone sit. Rest.”

  Once they were settled, Layla spoke again. “I’m touched that you have volunteered, but the truth is, we don’t know exactly what we’re fighting. The fairies we couldn’t save have been placed in glass globes, stuck in a limbo of torture just this side of death.”

  She removed the pendant holding Isla’s soul from around her neck and held it up for them to see. “Their brìgh is pulled from them and placed in a necklace like this. Humans purchase the fey globes and matching necklace, and when they wear the necklace, their wishes are granted.”

  A woman asked, “How do they survive without their souls?”

  “The necklace has to be returned to the globe every half day. We think their magic and therefore their brìgh is gradually siphoned from them to grant wishes. But it doesn’t last forever. When the magic is used up and the soul gone, the fey dies and another must be ordered.” She waited for the crowd to absorb the horror of it. “As you may know, the one who captured you is a Dark Harvester. We cannot use magic to battle him—he will only absorb it and become more powerful.”

  “How do we fight?” someone asked.

  Layla shook her head. “I won’t ask any fey to fight. You still need time to recover. You’ve been through enough trauma for two lifetimes.”

  A curly-haired lass sniffed and wiped tears from her eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight. I just want to go home.”

  “There is no shame in that. Home is where you belong.” Layla peered at the rest of the fey. “Rest for now. Think about your families. We’ll get you home as soon as we can. We are in sanctuary beneath a church, so you are safe here.”

  Jack called over his shoulder to Layla, “He’s asking for you.” He tipped his head at Buzzard and Theo in an unspoken you too.

  The team knelt around Ian. He forced a smile, but Layla got the impression it was to keep from grimacing. “Nice job, fairy.”

 

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