Not that I’m one who normally likes rainstorms, but I was grateful this one had picked up, with rolling thunder in the distance. It meant no one argued with Mum’s plan to spend the afternoon in the downstairs, open-to-the-public library, going over first aid for humans and horses, nor when we broke into teams for a trivia game based on the lesson and other horse stuff.
Not that I was in any mood for trivia and games when I couldn’t update Lily with what was going on. Strangely enough, though, despite my total desire to not be social, I actually managed to do pretty well at the trivia game, leading my team to some score of Super-Awesome-Something against No-Chance-in-Heck.
I was looking for Lily, who had sulked off as captain of the losing team, when Max edged in front of me, his odd blue eyes a guarded mix of shy, uneasy, and ready to be on the receiving end of trouble. A look I knew pretty well, from the mirror, sometimes.
“Was it something I said?” he asked. Even though he was slouching, I noticed he was quite taller than I was.
“Huh?” I asked, confused, and wondering if he were my age or older. He looked older, but both coaches had told me I looked older than eleven. I hadn’t seen his info last time I’d snuck a look at the class list.
“After we came into the castle for lunch, you just took off. And then it seemed you took great pleasure in squashing my team. What I said about the castle, when I came in, I was just joking, you know. It’s beautiful here. And definitely clean.”
I blinked a few times, processing his words. “I went off with my brother. Something was bothering him and he needed my help.” Pausing, I considered the game that I’d thought I was just going through the motions for, and realized otherwise. “And it wasn’t your team I took pleasure in squashing, but my can-do-no-wrong sister. You just happened to be lucky enough to be on her team. And yeah, I know you didn’t mean anything about the castle.”
He smiled at me. “So, we’re good?”
Though I was confused, I smiled back. “Yeah, we’re good.”
Before we could say anything more, Jared and Chris bookended us. Chris ruffled my hair. “What was all that about, sis? When did you get so smart?” As he spoke, I noticed his eyes were on not me, but Max, who shifted uncomfortably.
“Um, A, I’m not your sister, and B, clearly you all need to study more. What’s your deal?”
“You may as well be our sister; we’ve known you that long.” Jared also seemed to be talking to Max rather than to me.
“You know we’ve got your back like brothers, right?” Chris continued.
Before I could shake my head or roll my eyes, Lily, Sara-Not-Beth, and Livy joined us, making a circle.
“Heather always likes to make it clear she is the smartest person in the room,” my sister said with a not-real smile. Clearly, she was more than a bit cheesed that my team had won. Because, you know, there weren’t bigger problems going on.
Bigger problems that, I guiltily admit, didn’t keep me from glaring at Lily and readying a zinging insult to her intelligence. Fortunately, the arrival of Ivy and Ash interrupted what might have been a nasty round of sibling warfare.
Tapping me on the elbow, my youngest sister said in a small voice, “Mum wants to see you and Lily for a few minutes.”
“Sure.” Looking at the circle around us, I added, “See you all later,” before making my escape, though I threw a more sympathetic smile at Max as Jared and Chris seemed to move in closer to him. Guys. I didn’t understand them any better than I did girls. Maybe I just didn’t understand people.
I heard Lily following me, but I didn’t look at her. She wasn’t used to losing anything, but she didn’t have to take it out on me.
We followed Ivy to my parents’ office, where both of them were waiting. Isis now had an extra blanket over her where she dozed, clearly exhausted from the salt-laying exercise. Mum and Dad thanked the twins and, after sufficient kisses and hugs, told them to go back to their friends in the library and to be good for Mariah and Eric, the assistant coaches who were “on duty.”
When the twins were gone, my parents briefed Lily about what had happened in the gardens. Her face fell. “Oh! Heather, I’m sorry! I didn’t realize—” She stopped herself as she caught the sharp ends of our parents’ gazes.
I waved it away. “You were being my sister. It’s fine.” She could totally owe me later if I needed her to cover my butt.
After sharing another look with Dad, Mum pulled out two boxes from behind her chair. “These came this afternoon, none too soon, I’d say.” She handed each of us one.
I got my box open faster. Inside was a knife, slightly longer and thinner than the boot knife I already had for camping and such, but of a darker metal. It resembled the iron knife Joe had “borrowed” from his dad’s office when we went after Ehrwnmyr.
Mum supported my theory. “They’re iron. With everything that’s going on, your Dad and I want you to keep them on you at all times. We hope you don’t have to use them, but…well, you know.”
We both nodded solemnly.
“The sheaths should fit inside your field boots,” she continued. “Make those your first choice for footwear. If you have to, clip them to your belts and pull your shirts down to cover them some, but we don’t want to take any chances of anyone seeing you with weapons. Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” we both murmured. Slender, made of black metal, and extending higher than the handles of the knives, the sheath clips were hard to distinguish from our boots once we tucked them beside the decorative buttons on the outsides of our calves.
Before dinner, with the office door closed, Mum went over knife safety and some general moves with all of us, Dad included. Before I left the office, Mum handed me my cell phone.
“We’re beyond grounding, now,” she said. “Keep this with you, charged and on, at all times. Call either your dad or me for anything. Understand?”
Of course I nodded. No question or argument there!
Though I liked the feel of my cell back in my pocket, I don’t know how I got through dinner. I was quite aware when Mum excused herself early, and I wondered why. All I wanted to do was get to Ermie’s stable, talk to him, and hopefully hear back from the two pixies!
CHAPTER
11
Because my kelpie relationship negotiations weren’t complicated enough…
As Mum and I approached Ermie’s stable, she called my name. When I looked at her, she’d put down the crate of two chickens she’d been carrying (because Ermie liked to “hunt and kill” those, too) and was taking out the knife in her boot. She put it down just outside the stable entry. I did the same. “It’s respectful to him,” she explained.
He was watching us, and I could feel his confusion at our actions.
Yes, I appreciate that. And yes, I understand why you are armed now. I smelled a red cap near. And something else…
“Something what else?” Mum asked, opening the crate. The chickens sauntered out, clearly unaware of their fate. They’d barely picked up to a jog when we chased, or rather herded, them into the kelpie’s pen.
Tilting his head and looking at the birds with condescending incredulity as they pecked carelessly around his hooves, he darted towards one and caught it, breaking its neck in a second. The other bird finally ran, but he caught it with a barely measurable increase in effort. With a sigh that didn’t need words to communicate a sarcastic “well, that was fun and challenging,” he picked up both chickens and trotted to the corner, where he lazily lay down and started eating them.
You welcomed the “something what” here. It is among your horses. I can smell it.
I folded my arms at Ermie and fixed him with a glare. “Are you trying to find out what we know? Is that why you’re not telling us what you think or know it is? Or are you testing us to see if we’re going to keep it a secret from you?”
Ehrwnmyr stopped eating and looked at me. Someone is getting clever.
I had a feeling that thought was sent just to me, so I shot
back. Someone is getting predictable. At least in thinking he’s better than everyone else.
He blinked, then sneezed into the chicken bodies, scattering feathers. Yes, I have a sense of what he is. Yes, I am interested in what you know or think you know. Yes, I was curious if you would tell me. After a pause, I felt that little shift in my head and knew he was talking just to me again when he said, Would you prefer me to be less predictable? I can do that, you know, being that I am older and stronger and likely far wiser than you, precious child.
I couldn’t keep from narrowing my eyes. Mum noticed, I could tell, but busied herself with a broom. I had to win this one. With a smirk that didn’t make me happy, I replied only to Ermie. I know a few things. I know that if I order you to stay predictable and tell me things, you have to do that. If I’m careful enough with my wording, I can demand a lot, you know. But I don’t do that, do I?
He snorted again. With the level of sulk I got in my head this time, I was surprised he didn’t outright pout at me. What can I say? I was getting sick of the “I’m so better than you because I’m a four-century old super-monster” attitude. He went back to eating his chickens and purposely (I’m sure) splattering feathered guts around his pen.
“So, Stormy is part kelpie? Can you tell how much?” Mum asked, putting the broom away and pretending she totally wasn’t aware of our secret telepathic exchange and the fact Ermie was acting like one of my younger siblings in Time Out.
“Stormy?” Precious name. A human chose it, I’m sure. He continued munching, flicking his tail so it thudded on the ground. Yes, and not really. Not without meeting.
“Why not without meeting?” Mum continued.
With a belabored, feather-fluttering sigh, he answered, Because the horse side always wins out. Similar to animal fey, the children of kelpies and mortal beasts are mortal, with only some extra sense and ability and likely a hint more personality. But as I told you when you captured me, since my father was killed, I have seen no other like me, not even part-blood. I merely recognize the scent…and the lack of power. And the lack of blood.
“So, how much trouble could having this part-kelpie on our property be? With a castle full of kids and teens?” Mum leaned on the fence casually, though the tone of her voice was anything but.
Ermie paused in his eating for several moments to look at us. It depends on how you define “trouble.” I doubt he eats meat or actually hunts. He’ll be far stronger than any horse you have handled. Definitely more headstrong. He’ll think more. And even if it is merely hay and grain, he will eat more. I also doubt he’ll be well-behaved for anyone he doesn’t respect, which, considering how much stronger even mortal horses are than humans, could, possibly, be trouble.
“He and I, and he and Max, are having some respect conversations.” Mum folded her arms and narrowed her eyes. “They ended well, in the poor, weak human’s favor. Surprisingly enough.”
Ermie gave my mum a onceover. Not so surprising, actually. Your family captured me and have worked with me. I don’t consider you weak. For humans, anyway.
“Wait, was that…?” I paused, looking at Mum. “Almost a compliment from Mr. I-Am-So-Awesome?”
Mum smirked. “He really wants to meet Max’s Son of Storms.”
Have I mentioned how much I love that creature’s chosen names? There wasn’t much left of the chickens, so Ermie stood up, stretching. Although, have I also said how I truly, appreciate that you let me choose what you call me?
Well, at least his second rhetorical question was actually sincere.
Shaking off the paddock dirt and mud (he seemed to prefer mud), his coat appeared to grow shinier and his appearance more horse-like. Arching his neck and raising his tail so that it streamed out behind him like glorious black ribbons, he picked up a high-stepping trot and circled in front of us. I would cause no mischief or “trouble” if I were to be allowed to see this other creature. I truly have not seen any other of my kind, besides my father, and I was but a colt then. Even a half- or a part-blood would be a sight.
Even his telepathic voice seemed silkier and shinier. He might not be able to outright compel us with charm magick or whatever, but he could certainly lay it on thick.
Mum raised her eyebrows at me, still wearing her half-smile. “Would a ‘let us think about it’ work for you for now?”
It is not a “no.” And I appreciate your consideration of my feelings.
Clearly, Ermie really, really, really wanted to meet Max’s horse. So much so that I couldn’t pick up a trace of sarcasm in his statement, which meant it was worth the significant amount of effort I know it took him to scrub every ounce of it from his voice. Or, just maybe, he was actually being sincere.
“Next question,” I began. “Have you seen two little pixies here? Or have you heard anything from Lady Fana or Lord Cadmus tonight?”
No. Should I? His tone didn’t sound altogether happy about this new possibility.
As I pulled him out to groom him again, since I was all for him staying in a good mood, I explained what had happened in the garden. He didn’t say anything for several minutes, so I gave him a gentle poke in the shoulder.
“Well? Any of your ‘I know fey beings best’ commentary?”
I have never met the pixies nor have I actually met the ruling daoine síth of this land. Do you trust the pixies?
“I don’t know. One of them poked Ivy and cut her finger. And bit or cut our nanny, after you made the storm, because she picked a flower. They were at that meeting in the woods.”
That they attended the meeting only means they showed interest. You described nothing of anyone swearing any allegiance then, unless you left that part out.
“I told you everything. Nothing got left out as far as I can remember! And I’d remember something that big. I was the only one they asked to do that there.”
Mum looked out the front of the stable at the sky, made a face, and then pulled out her phone. “I still can’t deal with how late the sun is out in this freakin’ country,” she muttered, then shook her head. “It’s getting late, though. If they were going to keep their word, would they even know when to come? Could you…send a message to Heather if they arrive after we leave?”
Are you leaving already? I sensed in my head that he didn’t actually want us to leave. Or, at least, he didn’t want to face the daoine síth on his own.
“I’ve got a chore schedule to put together…” Mum paused, looking between me and Ermie, then fixed her gaze on the kelpie. “Another question for you. Michael and Jack ran salt lines down all the roads leading to the other stables and partway here. How effective will they be? Will they keep the red caps from harming anyone so long as they stay within those lines?”
Ermie chewed in thought. I can test them for you.
I looked at Mum, who bit her lip.
“So, if I lead him around the perimeter?” I asked. “While I maybe wait a little longer for them?
“Are you not able to cross the lines?” Mum asked Ermie, not answering my question.
With a snort, he responded, Considering it was Heather’s father, who despises me and whose magick is upon the boy I cannot touch—even if you needed me to carry him to safety, I may add—who laid the lines, if they are sufficient, then I am quite sure even I will be repelled by the lines, even upon Heather’s invitation.
Mum opened and closed her mouth. “Michael doesn’t use magick. I cast the spell on Rowan, and I wasn’t even really meaning to. I just wanted him to be assured he was safe. Michael didn’t even believe in the fey until we captured you at the loch. And once Heather was in her room, he pretty much spent an hour in denial, worried it was his meds acting up.”
Someone’s intention had to be true for the spell to work. And the spell on Heather’s younger brother is powerful. Even were I not bridled, I could not touch him.
“Curious.” A frown deepened Mum’s voice and drew her eyes narrow.
“What—” I started to ask.
“If Heather l
eads you around the perimeter of the salt barriers—at least around the stables and paths—are you able to walk her within sight of the castle, stand guard until she is safely inside, and return to this stable and corral immediately and directly?”
If I am so ordered, aye.
“Good. And since you know the red caps and other Unseelie are near, you will not be offended if I insist she arm herself while I’m not with her.” It wasn’t a question.
I understand you wish nothing but her protection. I am not offended.
“Would the iron blade harm the part-kelpie if your proximity enrages it or something?” There was an unspoken question that I also got: “Or if you acted up in proximity to the other part-kelpie?”
Ermie stepped back, and I sensed he truly didn’t like Mum’s question. And that he figured the same as I did. Any blade harms. I doubt the iron will have the same effect as it would upon my body, but I also doubt it would have no effect.
Mum nodded, then added, “If anything harms Heather while you are with her, you’ll find out exactly the extent of iron’s effect upon your body. Are we clear?”
He snorted angrily. Abundantly.
Softening her gaze and stance, she added, “I don’t wish to offend, but you have made it clear you are unhappy with us wishing you were less murderous. Do you understand?”
Another snort answered this question with a surge of unworded emotions. He understood, yes, and he wasn’t exactly sure how he felt about everything all together.
“I will ask your permission for this.” Mum pulled her phone out. “A friend of mine in New York sent me a Bell Spell, or that’s what she calls it. She put it on her shop so she can hear a bell ring wherever she is if someone comes through the doors. If I cast it around the perimeter of your stable and corral, we’ll know if anyone comes near you. I don’t think you want us to line salt around you, so this might be a better option. Do I have your permission to do that to your area?”
It seemed that Ermie took his time considering that before replying. Aye. I grant you permission to cast such a spell.
The Earl's Childe Page 15