Aislyn picked up her witch’s costume and scrambled out of the way as five fairies tried to fit through the doorway of the café at the same time. Part of her wanted to run, and the other part wanted to watch the protectors in action. She noted the brand new automatic machine wands with approval. The protectors were out to prove that the fairies tax pounds were being wisely spent. Curiosity battled briefly with prudence and won. Aislyn inched her way down the side of the café wanting to see events unfold first hand. But she wasn’t stupid either. She kept a wary eye out for the cat.
A trio of fairies in white overalls appeared out of thin air. They carried strange instruments on their backs that reminded Aislyn of that old movie, Ghostbusters. Sparks shot from the instruments and she heard a low-pitched whine coming from the closest. Each of the three fairies carried hand-held gadgets that beeped in varying degrees.
"Over there!" one of the trio cried.
The defense vehicle screeched to a halt. The stench of burning rubber filled the air. The platoon turned as one to face the direction the fairy indicated.
"Present wands!"
As one, the platoon pointed their weapons.
"Hold your fire! Make way for the cat busters," one of the trio ordered. "We want to take the cat alive."
"Where’s the cage," another of the trio demanded.
Aislyn watched spellbound. History in the making and she was a witness. Her brothers would never believe her. Where were the reporters? The cameramen? She needed photos to cut out and paste in a scrapbook. Stories. Aislyn pondered the quote she’d give the journalists, seeing that she was the only fairy brave enough to stay put.
"Bring on the cage."
No sooner had the words been uttered then a cage appeared out of nowhere and clattered to the ground.
The fairy commander thrust his head out of the window of the defense vehicle. "Where’s the cat?"
Aislyn looked to the trio in white overalls. So did the commander. The trio glanced at each other then consulted their gadgets. Lights glowed. Beeps sounded. The trio huddled and held a quick whispered conversation.
"Stand back," one ordered. Then as one, they stepped forward, heading down the road toward Aislyn. The beeps grew louder, turning into a high-pitched whine that throbbed and echoed inside Aislyn’s head.
"Grab the cage!"
Aislyn watched as several of the protectors broke rank and hoisted the cage off the ground.
"Instruments on full power."
"Full power on one."
"Full power on two."
The trio were so close Aislyn could see the color of their eyes beneath the strange rubber goggles they wore. She couldn’t wait to tell her brothers. Then a nagging ache in her chest reminded her that only Duncan was talking to her now and he was away. There was no one to tell. Not even Seamus. She edged further down the brick wall of the café.
"Fire!"
Without warning, Aislyn was surrounded by a beam of blue light. She tried to move, but found herself glued to the spot. Rats! Why hadn’t she escaped to safety when she had the chance? The blue light stuttered then exerted a fierce pull on her body, dragging her from the safe viewing spot and placing her in the middle of the potholed alleyway.
Simultaneously, the blue light flickered out, and Aislyn realized she was free. Panic gave her feet the speed of a champion sprinter. She lurched for cover, her heart pounding with terror. She didn’t want to die this way, not before she’d made peace with her family, not before she’d found her place and love. Yeah, she really, really wanted Seamus.
The cats in the human world had seemed so cute and cuddly. No wonder Seamus had warned her to take care. This was rapidly becoming a nightmare rather than a grand adventure she could brag about.
"Release the net! Before the cat gets away."
The urgency in the fairy’s voice made the hair at the back of Aislyn’s neck stand to attention. Danger. She heard the thud of running feet behind her and smelled the fetid breath of the cat as it gave chase.
"Throw the net!"
Yes, Aislyn thought frantically, trying to remember to zig and zag as she ran. Throw the net. Before the wretched creature pounces on me. Her lungs screamed for oxygen. Her heart pumped while her legs ran flat out. A spell! She needed a spell. Still running, she tried to think of one but drew a blank.
A strange whir sounded then Aislyn was knocked off her feet, surrounded by darkness. Caught.
"Is everyone all right?" Aislyn heard the commander demand.
"Yes, sir. Mission accomplished, sir. We’ll take the cat back to the lab."
Fools. Were they blind? They’d captured her. Aislyn O’Sullivan. The cat was still loose, somewhere in the colony. Aislyn squirmed beneath the heavy net, trying her damnedest to wriggle free. The screech of tires and the sound of running feet made her pause.
"Commander, have you captured the cat?"
Aislyn groaned. She recognized that breathless babble. Scott McGuire, a reporter from the Colony Rag. Rats, she’d pictured five minutes of fame but not with that scurrilous excuse of a reporter.
"Commander, yoo-hoo! Yoo-hoo! Can you tell use if anyone was hurt?"
Oh, no. Aislyn shuddered. Maisie Bubblehead, the gossip columnist for Fairy television. She was doomed.
"Stand back. The cat isn’t restrained under the net."
A burst of excited chatter greeted this statement. Aislyn issued another soft groan. Oh, boy. It sounded as though half the colony had arrived to witness the capture. They were going to be surprised when they found her. Her father refused to speak to her now. Probably never would again after this debacle. And what about Seamus? He’d probably lecture her for the rest of the week....
"Troops, control the crowd," the commander ordered.
Conversational sounds faded, and Aislyn presumed the bystanders were contained behind a wall of determined protectors.
"Where are those cat busters?" the commander muttered. "You, over here."
Aislyn resumed her frenzied wriggling. She had to get out of here. Maybe she could--
Suddenly, the net was whisked off her. Shouts and screams echoed in the alleyway. Camera shutters snapped. Aislyn squinted up at the bright lights, her mouth dropping open in a sheepish smile. Oops. Bit late for a sneaky exit.
* * * *
Seamus paused at the door of the boardroom and stared in pure astonishment. Pandemonium. The ten board members were shouting over each other, shaking their fists and--may the good lord put his hands over his ears--cursing loud enough for the colonies in Ireland to hear. Murphy gobbled at the top of his voice. The room throbbed with frustrated magical vibes, but as yet, none of the males had broken the rules and let rip with a spell. What had happened to set them off? He hadn’t heard such a heated kafuffle since his father had confessed to diverting colony funds to finance his high-rolling lifestyle. Seamus tensed, his stomach roiling. God’s balls, his father hadn’t turned up and caused this ... this ruckus, had he? He’d promised he’d stay away--for what his promise was worth. Hell, between Aislyn and his parents, it was enough to send him to drink.
He strode into the luxurious boardroom. Another legacy of his father’s rule that made Seamus grit his teeth at the waste. Time for this meeting to come to order, he decided after checking his watch, otherwise he’d never get back to see Gill. Seamus slid into the large leather chair.
"Seamus," the commander said. The tall, spare fairy with the walrus mustache pulled out a chair and sat abruptly. His blazing eyes told Seamus that the fairy expected him to right whatever was wrong. Seamus had a sudden urge to pop a couple of antacids.
"The Guardian’s arrived," Murphy announced, cutting through the raised voices with a short, sharp gobble. "He’ll sort out this mess."
Seamus sighed inwardly. Somehow, he sensed this meeting might take longer than he’d anticipated. He reached for the coffee carafe sitting on the large oak table in front of him, poured a cup of coffee into a bone china cup, and sat back to await developments.
&nbs
p; Gradually the noise level abated and each of the board members subsided into their assigned seats. They studied him with varying degrees of expectation.
"Would someone care to tell me what the problem is?" Seamus asked mildly. His fingers beat a silent tattoo on the tabletop.
Murphy gobbled from the far end of the table. "You don’t know?"
Seamus leaned back into the leather chair, working at holding his temper. "I’m working on an important case."
"Where’s the paper?" the commander demanded. "Does anyone have a copy?"
A rustle of papers filled the boardroom as eight out of ten board members thrust newspapers at him. Seamus accepted the closest.
"Anything in particular you’d like me to look at?" Impatience made his temper tug for freedom. Why didn’t someone just tell him? If his father had returned to the colony, he damn well wanted to know so he could send him packing--after he extracted some much needed gold from his father’s Swiss bank accounts. Thanks to his father, the colony was broke and it wasn’t simply a matter of using hocus-pocus magic these days to get what they wanted. There were rules.
"Front page, second and third pages and the back of the front section," the commander replied tersely.
A distinct air of anticipation hovered in the boardroom now. Seamus frowned. The board members were studying him as closely as a research scientist studied a cat hair under their microscopes. He shrugged off a burst of unease and unfolded the colony newspaper. The headline exploded across the front page. A color photo took up most of the space. Seamus cursed. Hell’s teeth, she’d really done it this time.
"Tell me what happened," he said. When everyone burst into speech at once, he held up his right hand. "Murphy, you tell me."
Murphy’s face burned with emotion. He gobbled then spoke rapidly almost tripping over his words in his haste. "Somehow, we don’t know how, the lass left the colony and came in contact with a cat. The colony alarms picked up the scent, setting off a full scale alert."
"The O’Sullivan female refuses to utter a word," the commander butted in. His moustache jiggled up and down in clear indignation. "She refuses to tell us how she left the colony."
"She must be working with someone, trying to take over the colony." Murphy pounded the boardroom table to emphasize his point. "The female must go. Expel her from the colony, I say. She’s walking trouble, a stick of dynamite primed to blow."
Everyone spoke at once.
Damn, Seamus thought. As he looked from face to face, guilt sliced through him. He couldn’t exactly blame Aislyn for this one. What the hell did he do now? If he were an ordinary fairy without responsibility, without a duty to uphold the rules, he might have an excuse. But he was the Guardian. And because of his father’s right royal cock up, he owed his loyalty to the board of directors and the colony.
This was his fault.
He couldn’t let the colony down.
Seamus stood and silence fell. Self-recrimination made him scowl. Aislyn obviously hadn’t told the board he was responsible. He needed to find out why, as soon as he’d fessed up. "I--"
"I doubt she’ll talk to you," the commander snapped, tugging at his jacket sleeve.
O’Regan, the farmer’s representative, spoke up for the first time. "I agree with Murphy. The O’Sullivan female must be expelled from the colony. We need to make an example of her. Females in the fairy force. I ask you." He emitted a rude snort of disgust.
"Hear, hear," another member muttered.
Seamus felt smaller by the minute. "What’s next on the agenda?" Maybe they’d sort everything else out, and he’d make his confession right at the end.
"Aislyn O’Sullivan is the agenda. She’s created chaos, Seamus. You haven’t been here. We’ve had riots and panic, the like I’ve never seen since our previous Guardian brought us to New Zealand instead of Australia. Today we had protest marches with all the right wing militants demanding equal opportunities for females. Since the female’s costume set off the alarm, the press is crucifying the scientific community. The newspapers are full of the scandal and the television...." O’Regan shuddered. "I refuse to turn it on. That Maisie Bubblehead is out of control."
"But this is my fault," Seamus thundered over the outpouring of venom against Aislyn.
"I hardly think so," the commander said into the shocked silence.
"But I--" Seamus stopped, deciding to see Aislyn first. "I’ll go and see Aislyn now." He stalked from the boardroom and hurried through the ornate picture gallery toward the main entrance.
"Seamus, wait!"
Footsteps thundered behind him, but Seamus was in no mood to debate the situation. What a monumental stuff up! Perhaps he took after his father after all and bad blood ran through his veins.
"Seamus, wait, dammit!"
Seamus slowed, and Murphy pulled up beside him, his face red, and his breathing as loud as a combustion engine.
"There’s no point going to see the O’Sullivan lass at her flat."
"I need to talk to her," Seamus said, clenching his fists when all he really wanted to do was smack something. He brushed past Murphy and started down the steps that led into the square.
With a burst of speed, Murphy whipped around him and grabbed his arm, clinging like a leech until Seamus came to a halt. "That’s what I’m trying to tell you. The O’Sullivan female is in jail."
"What?" Seamus roared. The idiots. Aislyn was no criminal. It was him who needed locking up.
Murphy backed away. "She ... she’s in jail." He finished his sentence in a rush as though he’d to speak fast to stop the words lodging in his throat.
"Which jail?" Seamus asked, his voice soft and menacing. None of this would have happened if he hadn’t succumbed to her tears. So help him, if another female ever cried in front of him, he’d shoot them.
A high, nervous gobble escaped Murphy. "Solitary confinement."
"Are you all mad? She’s not a criminal."
"She refused to talk," Murphy gobbled.
Seamus narrowed his eyes and stalked Murphy until he had him crowded against the brick wall of the council building. "Is that meant to make it all right? Rule five hundred and twenty, section two, sub paragraph four," he gritted out. "The Guardian’s extra special powers. I’m invoking them. Go back to the boardroom and inform the rest of the board. Wait for me there."
Murphy paled to a color almost the exact pasty white of his bottom. "Rule five hundred and twenty?" he whispered. "Are you sure?"
"Very," Seamus snapped. He took the stairs two at the time and headed back into the council buildings. The blathering fools. Why hadn’t they called him? Why had they taken matters into their own hands? He stomped down the winding stone staircase that led to the dungeons, barely holding raw emotion in check.
"Who goes there?" the guard demanded, knocking over his chair in his haste to leap to arms.
"Keys," Seamus snarled at the male in the guardhouse at the bottom of the stairs. Seamus stepped into the light, making no attempt to conceal his towering rage.
"You," the guard whispered.
"Give me the keys," Seamus thundered, thrusting his face up to the guard’s. "Hurry, I don’t have all day."
The guard’s hand shook so violently, he dropped the keys. He picked them up and thrust them at Seamus.
"Tea break," Seamus stated as he accepted the key ring. "Apart from the O’Sullivan female, do you have any other prisoners?"
"No, sir."
"Go home then. You’re finished work for the day."
"But ... but...." The guard cast a fearful glance over his shoulder. "The board will sack me for leaving the dangerous female alone."
Seamus stepped toward the cowering male again. His jaw flexed. The desire to thump the man into the next week made his hands shake. "Go," he ordered, and he shot past the confused fairy, heading for the cells without looking back.
The steady drip of water sounded loud. Monotonous. Cool air gusted through a small hole in the wall. The small window, high above his h
ead, cast shadows and little light. Seamus shook his head, fear and guilt twisting both body and mind into knots. Unbelievable.
"Aislyn," he called. Sheer terror clogged his throat. If anything had happened to her, he’d never forgive himself.
A loud thump echoed in the stone chamber over to his left and then a weak, tear-filled curse. "Seamus? Is that you?"
Seamus blundered through the darkness, wishing he had a torch. But there was no magic allowed on council premises. If they intended to outlaw magic, the least they could do was make sure the lights worked. Bloody stupid, pedantic rules designed to protect the colony. For not the first time, Seamus wondered if the colony was heading in the right direction.
"Yeah, it’s me. Where the hell are you?"
"Down the end, in the last cell. Seamus, please hurry."
"What? What’s wrong?" He didn’t like the note of alarm in her voice. Nothing frightened Aislyn. Something was wrong.
"Seamus!"
Her panicked cry sent a burst of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He sprinted the remaining distance in seconds flat. "What is it?"
Aislyn huddled on a narrow bunk bed--the bottom one. Her hands were restrained behind her back, pre-empting escape via magic since fairies needed their hands to utilize their magical powers. Except the fools had the whole council building protected by shields. How did they expect Aislyn to escape by magic?
Seamus fumbled the keys while trying to open the lock. Instead of leaping off the bunk, Aislyn remained on the bed, her legs drawn up tightly to her chest. God’s bones, if they’d hurt her, he’d take them apart limb by limb. She moaned, lifting Seamus’s fears to an all time high. Which key? he thought, dread making nimble fingers as clumsy as a fairling learning magic. Hurry. The third key slid smoothly into the lock, and Seamus flung the door open then rushed to Aislyn.
"What’s the problem?" he demanded, snatching her up into his arms.
"Sp ... spell," she mumbled.
Fury lanced through him. Bloody fools. He clutched her to his chest and strode from the cell. His conscience shrieked at him, stridently settling the blame square on his shoulders. And Seamus knew it was true. How did he fix this? Why hadn’t she told them this was his fault? The questions pounded at him, demanding answers, but this wasn’t the time. He had to get Aislyn to safety then unravel the spell holding her tight.
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