Power Play (Amanda Byrne Book 1)

Home > Other > Power Play (Amanda Byrne Book 1) > Page 20
Power Play (Amanda Byrne Book 1) Page 20

by Kimberly Keane


  “What injuries does she have?”

  “She was involved in a car accident three years ago and has been in a coma ever since. Her doctors say she may never . . . maybe one of the gods can . . . is it possible?”

  “It’s possible. We’d need to look at her to see the extent of her injuries to be sure. Sometimes there are injuries too severe, even for the gods.”

  “I understand,” he said. “Until last night, I thought I’d tried everything to bring her back. I just can’t . . . can’t let her go. But now . . . It didn’t dawn on me that this was even possible until this morning. There I was, sitting in a field, thinking about how much she’d love it there and I didn’t think to ask for this then . . . some father.” He rubbed his hands over his face.

  “You’re looking to help her now. I think that qualifies as something a good father would do.” I wrapped my hands tighter around my mug. “About the healing deities—I’ve worked with Airmid, Dian Cecht’s daughter, the most. She and her father are known to be the best healers in the Celtic pantheon. Typically, she asks—” I stopped myself. He’d heard all this the night of the ritual. “You already know what it is she usually asks for. There are other pantheons if you are hesitant to work with Airmid.”

  “I’ll work with anyone that can help Suzanne,” he said. “I never liked religion or church or anything like that, but I’ll do what needs to be done.”

  I reached across the books and touched his knee; and this touch was merely to express the gravity of what he might agree to. He looked up at me, and I held his gaze. “I know how hard it is when someone you love is hurt badly, but working with deities is serious. You need to consider what it is they are asking, and you need to be prepared to give it to them. Going back on your word can be deadly.”

  “Usually I’m the one giving the speeches.” A ghost of a smile crossed his face and then weight fell on it. For the first time in a long time, I felt a potential client was really considering the cost. He took time, sitting back, rubbing his jaw, and closing his eyes. Finally, he looked at me and said, “The celebration thing is going to be difficult. I’ll do it if that’s what it’ll take, but what other options do I have?”

  I realized that his hand was still in mine, the rough skin against my palm. I pulled away. “There are so many pantheons, I can’t begin to count them. I’ve been called by several gods and I can reach out to any of those pantheons. I could try to research some of the older religious traditions if you’d like. However, I prefer not to work with the Greek or Roman gods.”

  “You’re most familiar with Airmid?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is there anything else would she accept as payment?”

  “I don’t know. I can ask, but many of the gods are still so far removed from our mortal life I think it’s better to offer something. I’m trying to figure out what I could offer a warrior deity for protection from Dian Cecht,” I said. “So, if you come up with a brilliant offering, let me know.”

  “Isn’t that your job?”

  “Not necessarily. My job is to negotiate with the deity, ensure you get what you’re asking for and understand the impact of working with the gods and goddesses.”

  We sat quietly contemplating what we could offer.

  “I just had a thought,” I said. “How much do you fight?”

  He furrowed his brow. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “I need an offering for a warrior deity and you need one to heal your daughter. Airmid, the healing goddess I work with, needs protection from Dian Cecht.”

  “And?”

  I’d already decided I didn’t want to work with Lugh for my protection and had come across a Celtic goddess that fit the warrior deity role nicely. If I could also gain her protection for Airmid, Airmid would be even safer, and I’d be spreading my negotiations around to multiple deities; hopefully that would negate any other nighttime visits from pissed-off deities. “If you fight somewhat frequently in the course of your everyday work, each morning you could say an incantation to Scáthach to offer any butt kicking you do in her name, and it would be considered a form of worship. Then Scáthach could offer protection for Airmid, and Airmid could heal your daughter.”

  “Who’s Scáthach?”

  “She’s the warrior deity I am hoping to work with.”

  “How does that help you?”

  “It doesn’t,” I said. “I got lost in my own logic. Forget about that for a minute. Would that work for you? Making your work an offering to a goddess?”

  “Yeah, it would.” He nodded. “It’s a good idea. Can we see if that will work?”

  “I need to go to one of the god realms to talk to Scáthach and see if she’d be interested.”

  “I’m going with you.”

  “Um, you can’t. I can only go in spirit and my gifts won’t work on you.”

  “So, your body will be here, but you won’t?” Daniel said.

  I nodded.

  “Are you aware of what happens here when you’re gone?”

  “No, why?”

  “If Rick decides to try something, we may need to move quickly.”

  “You didn’t have any problem with that at the store.”

  “Having someone aware and helping instead of dead weight is always the better option.”

  I pursed my lips. We needed some way for him to let me know I needed to return. “I can use a calling spell. It’ll be something that lets me know you need me back here.”

  “Would you say that again, this time for us normal folk?”

  “Most psychics can put a spell in something, like a coin or a piece of jewelry. They link the spell to a trigger phrase or gesture that someone who’s not psychic can use to start the magic.”

  “But psychic things don’t work with me.”

  “It’s not meant to work on you; you’d just need to trigger the spell. Since the trigger is something real, vibrations from sound or gestures, I believe you could do it. Let me set it up and we’ll check to make sure it works.” I went to my bedroom. Since the spell’s purpose was to call me, it would be more powerful if I tied it to something sentimental. I pulled a medium-sized plastic storage container from the back of my closet and began to look through my personal treasures. I wanted to find something poignant, but I didn’t want it to be something I would be devastated to lose. Although I expected it to come back in one piece, magic can be tricky. I selected Harley’s dog collar. The tags jingled when I took it from the box. I smiled sadly; I missed my childhood friend. I removed one of the metal tags and put the collar back into the box. I wove a spell into the tag and tied it to myself spiritually.

  When I returned from my bedroom, Daniel sat at the kitchen table over a bowl of cereal and his coffee. I set the tag down in front of him.

  “Rub your thumb or finger counterclockwise on that and I’ll know to return.”

  He picked up the tag and rubbed it as I had instructed. I heard the sound of a trumpet blare and felt as if a hand were on my back pushing me closer to him.

  “Nothing happened,” he said.

  “Trust me, it worked,” I said. “If you use it, I’ll come back as quickly as possible. But, I am dealing with deities, and just popping out on them in the middle of a conversation would be rude.”

  “If your life is in danger, I think you can be a little rude.”

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “Which may put my life in danger.”

  Daniel shook his head and took my shoulders. He gripped them tightly. “Remember what your friend said about messing with this guy. If I call you, it’s because I need you here.”

  I did remember what Miriam had said, but it was the noises she made, as if she were standing knee deep in sewage, that stuck with me. I shuddered. “I’ll get back here if you call.”

  “Thank you.”

  I closed my eyes. I couldn’t go directly to Scáthach’s island where she trained her warrior students. Popping in on a warrior on her own turf with no warning was asking to get
gutted. I thought about the booby-trapped bridge to her island. I couldn’t cross it without getting thrown into the monster-infested waters, but if I appeared on the other side of it, it would get her notice without getting me killed.

  I turned to the land across the bridge from Scáthach’s island. The wind carried flecks of seawater and splashed them across my face. I licked my salty lips and wiped the rest away.

  Scáthach

  Across the loch

  We need a warrior great

  To protect against an unkind fate

  Scáthach appeared on the other side of the bridge. “Come across to discuss your quest,” she called.

  “I am no warrior and I do not wish to become a meal to those below,” I called back.

  She threw back her head and laughed. Her red hair blew in the wind and a sword hung at her side. She strode across the bridge.

  I looked up into her freckled face and then curtsied. “Well met, Scáthach,” I said. “I’m Amanda, a mortal who comes to discuss power.”

  “Well met, Amanda,” she said. “If you are not a warrior, how do you come to be at my bridge? You should not have survived the lands you crossed to come to the Isle of Shadows.”

  “I possess the ability to travel between the mortal world and that of the gods.”

  “And yet, you chose to come to me and not to my island.”

  “I had no wish to taste your sword. If I had appeared before you on the Isle of Shadows, you would have killed me for my insolence.”

  “You may not be a warrior, but you think like one.” She grinned down at me.

  I curtsied in response to her compliment. “I am hopeful I can negotiate an arrangement with you.”

  “What would this arrangement entail?”

  “A mortal, who protects other mortals in the course of his work, would do so in your name in exchange for your protection of Airmid.”

  “One mortal?”

  “At this time, yes. However, word travels in the mortal world. One could turn into many.”

  “From what would I protect Airmid?”

  “From harm.”

  “Dian Cecht’s jealousy grows large again?”

  “It appears that way.”

  “I cannot be at Airmid’s side at all times.”

  “But you could come to her call.”

  “What say she of this?”

  “I have come to you first in hopes I would find you amenable.”

  “I may be willing, but I would like to test this mortal’s abilities first.”

  “I am unable to bring him. His nature makes him insusceptible to psychic gifts. I must return to ensure he is willing to be tested.”

  “If he is not willing, he is not worth my time.”

  “I understand, but the testing must not cause him harm.”

  “I cannot guarantee he will not suffer any hurt, but I will guarantee it will be minor.”

  “Minor by mortal standards?”

  “Aye.”

  “How shall he come to you if he is willing?”

  She pulled a small dagger from her waistband and handed it to me. “Place a drop of your blood upon the blade and call me as you would from here. I shall bring you both to the island.”

  “And if he declines?”

  “Return the blade to me.”

  “Más é do thoil é.” I spoke the words slowly and it sounded good to my ears. I hoped Scáthach thought so too.

  I returned to find Daniel still seated in the armchair. He had stacked my books and placed them against a wall. I looked down at the dagger grasped in my right hand.

  Daniel stood quickly. “What is that for?”

  “It will allow me to call Scáthach. She wishes to test your abilities.”

  “Why?”

  “I’d guess that she wants to make sure you are worthy of her,” I said. “She’s one of the best warriors of the Celtic pantheon. I have her word if you are hurt, it will be minor.”

  “Does she believe I’ll be injured?”

  “She’s going to test your fighting ability. I assume there is always a risk, even more so against a warrior goddess. I thought it prudent I get her word.”

  “That’s not very reassuring.”

  “The goddesses are not always reassuring. Even if you agree to be tested, it’s not a guarantee she’ll agree to the arrangement,” I said.

  “But if I don’t, it’s a guarantee she won’t.” Daniel straightened in the chair and leaned forward. “I’ll do it.”

  Chapter Thirty-six

  “Should I bring my weapons?” Daniel asked.

  Damn. I thought like a warrior, my ass—I hadn’t even thought to ask about weapons.

  “Yes,” I said. “Make sure you bring something that leaves a big hole.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if you’re carrying something like that, I can get weapons excluded from the testing.”

  “Why would we want to do that?”

  “Can you sword fight?”

  “No.”

  I made a there-you-go gesture.

  He went into his room, and I took the time to put my books away and shut down my laptop. Daniel returned with three handguns: one in his shoulder holster, one in his ankle holster, and one tucked into the back of his belt. He’d also selected two rifles and carried one in each hand.

  “Isn’t that overkill?”

  A wide grin spread across his face and he nodded. “Let’s bring a gun to a knife fight.”

  I hadn’t seen many of his smiles and they lit up his face. Sparkled in his eyes. I’d seen the understated, but obviously dangerous, bodyguard frequently. The lighthearted Daniel didn’t come out frequently, and he appeared innocent and childlike with just the right touch of rogue.

  We settled ourselves on the floor, sitting side by side. I thought briefly about poking him in the side. I didn’t know if he was ticklish, and it would be fun to find out. It was unusual for my lighthearted side to come out too and it was a bit intoxicating.

  He must have seen me smiling.

  “What?”

  “I was wondering if you were ticklish.”

  “Why?”

  I blushed. More than I would have if I were hitting on him. “Because, well, because. You’re so serious all the time.”

  “Glass houses.”

  I blushed harder and pushed him over. Well, I pushed him on his arm. I think he fell over on purpose. I laughed, and he joined me. It felt so damned good to laugh. To break the tension of always being scared. Always paying attention. Always worrying. I met his eyes and he met mine, our laughter fading to shared smiles.

  “Thank you,” I said and brushed his hair away from his face. His eyes went that amber color and both our smiles faded. I let my hand brush just in front of his ear and across his chin line, his stubble deliciously rough against my fingertips. I lingered a bit too long before returning my hands to my lap and breaking the eye contact.

  Daniel shifted next to me, laying the rifles across his lap at a different angle. Now that I thought about it, I had no idea how many weapons and of what kind were in my house. It made me happy that he’d gotten a gun safe. I shook my head, bringing my attention back to what we were about to do, brought the point of Scáthach’s dagger to my thumb, pressed it into the skin, and wiped my blood on the blade.

  Scáthach, I call

  Warrior, great and tall

  One to be tested

  As requested

  The next moment, we stood in the courtyard of the castle that served as Scáthach’s fighting school on the Isle of Shadows. The place she also called home. The courtyard had rough, short-cut grass. The air was chilly and smelled like the sea. It lifted my hair and tossed it about until I pulled it back with a band I always wore around my wrist. A dozen people stood and watched two men wrestling a few yards to our left.

  “Well met, Scáthach.” I curtsied, then I returned the dagger she had given me, hilt first. “May I present Daniel Geist?”

  “Well met, Amanda.
Well met, Daniel.” She took the knife, placed it in an empty sheath on her calf, and turned to Daniel. “Have you agreed to the testing?”

  “There is one more item on which we must come to accord first,” I said.

  “And that is?”

  “I ask that weaponry be excluded from the testing.”

  “Why?”

  “The weapons of the mortal world have been greatly improved. You have sworn no great damage will be done. Daniel wishes to cause no great harm as well.”

  “Surely a mortal weapon can be no more dangerous than those I have already faced,” she said.

  “May we demonstrate?”

  “What do you require?”

  I looked at Daniel. He smiled but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  “Something large,” Daniel said and handed the rifles he carried to me.

  In no time, a sea creature the size of a great white shark hung between two poles. Daniel pulled the gun at his right side faster than I expected and fired into the creature.

  Scáthach looked at the creature and shook her head. “I see nothing but a small hole.”

  “Look at the back side,” Daniel said.

  Scáthach had her students take down the creature and hold it up between them, the back side to us. Skin, bones, and flesh lay ragged and torn around a massive hole that obliterated quite a bit of the back half of the animal.

  I gasped and then swallowed, turning my gaze away from the ruined creature. It took a few moments and much swallowing to get a handle on my rioting stomach. Then I addressed Scáthach. “These weapons are effective but crude; damage cannot be subtly inflicted as allowed by a blade or staff.”

  “With what other weapons have you trained?” Scáthach asked Daniel.

  He raised his hands and looked at them. “Only with these.”

  Scáthach nodded at me. “No weaponry.”

  Daniel fully disarmed and left all of it with me. It was heavy and smelled of metal and gun oil. I was beginning to like the smell. It reminded me of Daniel.

  Daniel and Scáthach faced each other. Both stood relaxed and waited for the other to make the first move. Scáthach stood a head taller than Daniel, but he was broader and likely outweighed her. I knew Scáthach would best Daniel, but I didn’t know if Daniel knew she would. I should have told him.

 

‹ Prev