There's a grunting and growling and snorting, a kind of reluctant cheer.
"What have you come here for today?" he asks, raising his hands.
"Power!" shouts one. "Like you gave to the Korrigan!"
"Power!" echo the others.
Wait, what? He's going to give them powers?
How is this possible? I have to stop this.
Just then he looks straight at me, over their heads, as if he knows what I'm thinking. As if to say, "Trust me."
And I don't know why I trust him, but I do; so I wait.
"Sit, friends," he says. "And I will work the spell I have discovered— the spell to make you all as powerful as the Soul-Stealer."
Rumbling and muttering, they sit on the damp ground. Kieran sits cross-legged before a small array of objects— I can't see from this distance what they all are. His mouth moves rapidly, weaving a spell in Gaelic, but he's whispering, so I can't hear the words, either.
What does he think he's doing?
Suddenly I see that he's glowing, from the inside, from somewhere deep in his ribcage— like he did the one time I tried to take his Life-Stream. His thin shirt is no more than a lampshade— I can see black ribs and the dark, pumping center of his heart behind his translucent lungs. It's freaky beyond anything I've seen before.
At the same time, he holds up a vial of something that looks like blood and pours it on the objects in front of him. There's a spark, a flicker of yellow flame. The leprechauns are silent, watching— spellbound, as I am.
And then from each leprechaun in the crowd leaps a blaze of blue fire, fierce and violent. They are engulfed, consumed. There's no screaming, because it happens so quickly they are burnt to ash before they know it. Not one has time to transport away, out of the magical inferno.
I scream, because I can't see Kieran. The flames are a blue wall of heat before my eyes.
And then, just as quickly, the fire is gone.
All that's left are the charred lumps of black flesh that used to be the leprechauns. And Kieran, collapsed on the ground, his hair perilously close to a smoking lump of leprechaun.
I run to him and transport us both to his downtown loft. He falls onto the couch, completely spent.
"What did you just do?" I say. I still can't believe what I saw.
"I did what you asked," he answers.
"I never said kill them! I wanted you to—"
"To what? Stop working with them? Make them go away? If they had an inkling that our partnership was over, they would have killed me, and then gone on a baby-eating spree. This was the only way to make sure they couldn't hurt anyone else."
How like him to turn my request into such a dramatic gesture.
I can't be sorry they're gone; in fact, I think it's justice for what they've done to families throughout the centuries, not just in my city. But I can't help feeling that it cost him more than he wants me to know.
I kneel beside the couch and just stay there with him, quiet. He lies with eyes closed, breathing shallowly.
"Can I get you something? Water? Food?" I ask finally. "You seem exhausted."
"I am. I used almost all my magic on that Dragon-fire blood spell. Never did one that big before."
"Will you be all right?"
"It will take me, maybe a week or two to recharge? No more than that, and then I'll be good as new."
It suddenly occurs to me that he is far more powerful than I ever realized. He just killed a hundred leprechauns with a single spell. If he wanted to, he could be the terror of the world— or of North America at least. For such a powerful Fae being, he shows a surprising amount of restraint when it comes to actually using his magic.
"I did that spell once before," he says. "When Maeve was chasing me and my wife, a group of her mercenaries reached us first. I promised them power if they would let us go. They agreed and sat down to receive their boon. And I burned them. Unfortunately it took all my energy— I had none left to protect us when Maeve and her women caught up."
"I'm sorry," I whisper.
"Thank you."
"Not just sorry for that— sorry for today. Even though I don't totally understand it, I know that the leprechauns meant something to you. Right or wrong, they were part of your life, and you gave them up."
"For you."
"I hope it wasn't just for me. I hope part of you knows that it was right, too."
He sighs. "You see the world so clearly. For me, it's gotten murkier over the years, not clearer. But yes, I can see that their existence caused pain, and death. I always told myself it didn't matter. Humans live such short lives anyway, and there are so many of them. But when you talked to me about it, I could see the wrong of it."
"See? You're a good person," I say.
"But Aislinn, I've caused pain and death, too. I have fragments of a moral compass left, but I've been through black times, times when I didn't care anymore. And I did things that would make you hate me, if you knew."
"You were alone then. You're not now."
"Am I not, though?" He turns his head and looks into my eyes. In his eyes there's such pain, and burning desire, and weariness all mixed together, that I feel like crying.
I want to kiss him. Make him smile again, like he did on the mountain. Heal the parts of him that are broken. After all, I'm broken too. We could fix each other.
But I don't kiss him, because Zane; and he looks away. "Their time was up long ago, anyway. As mine should have been."
Fear grips me, that depression could follow this thing he's done. Depression is a very real danger among the Fae; I know some of the Korrigan killed themselves because of it. Long life isn't always a blessing.
"Don't talk like that," I say, more harshly than I mean to. "Don't ever think like that. Your time is far from up. You need to live for hundreds more years."
"Do I have to?" The shadow of a smile plays on his lips.
"Absolutely. You're not done showing me around the Fae world, remember?" I rise from the floor. "Rest up, buddy, because you and I have a lot more to do."
"Aislinn, wait. The bodies— they're going to cause a lot of questions for the humans."
Oh, no.
"I can't help you with them in my current state. I'm so sorry to ask this, but— you need to throw them in the lake. Now, before anyone sees. I had the leprechauns put charms on the trail to keep everyone away for a while, but that will be wearing off soon."
"Oh my gosh." I sit down and put my head in my hands. "Are you seriously asking me to go and throw all those burned-up leprechaun bodies into the lake?"
He makes a wry face. "Yes."
Crap.
"Maybe you can get someone to help you? Arden, or—"
The thought of crisply-dressed Arden staggering along the lake shore, pitching bodies into the water, is just so funny I can't help laughing.
Kieran grins too. "So, maybe Zane then. He knows about all this anyway."
"All what?"
"Magic, and everything. And he knows we're friends now."
My face gives it away, and Kieran pushes himself up a little higher on the couch. "Aislinn. You have told him, haven't you?"
"Not in so many words," I say. "He maybe thinks you're still living in Asheville, and that I haven't spoken to you at all since we saw you in the restaurant."
There's a strange expression on Kieran's face, almost like he's trying to hide a smile. "You told me you would tell him."
"And I didn't, and that's my business."
"When he finds out, he's going to be—"
"Pissed, yes thank you, I know."
"I suggest you figure out what you're going to tell him. Time's running out for moving those bodies."
"Thank you, Far Darrig, for leaving me to clean up your mess."
"I am sorry." The smile is gone now, wiped from his face and replaced with the brooding sadness from a few minutes ago. But I don't have time to cheer him up; I've got some dead leprechauns to hide.
14
TEAM
/>
Zane
"I have to work in an hour, you know."
Aislinn's voice on the phone is apologetic, but urgent. "I know, but Zane, I really need you to do something for me. Can you tell them you'll be late?"
"Girl, you're gonna lose me this job."
"Just come for a bit. Please. I'll come get you."
"Whatever, girl. Whatever you need."
She's in my room before I even disconnect the call. I jump. "Dang, girl!"
"Sorry. You have shoes on, good."
"Yeah, but—"
I feel a weird vibration over my body, and then I'm in the middle of a forest, next to a swampy sort of lake. There's a stench that makes my breakfast roil around in my stomach. And right next to the lake, dozens of lumps of charred— something.
Okay, this after the dream I had last night? It's too insane.
"What the hell! Aislinn, what— the— hell?"
"Put these on." She hands me a pair of thick gloves, like gardening gloves. "All I need you to do is help me throw these into the lake before anyone comes by," she says, gesturing to the burnt chunks.
"What are they?"
"The leprechauns."
It sinks into my brain, slowly. "All of them? They all dead?"
"Yes."
"You did this?"
"No, but— I sort of made it happen. Trust me, you don't want to know. Just help me, okay? The spell keeping people off this trail is fizzling already. There'll be bikers and runners coming along any minute."
She whispers her strength spell and starts hurling burnt leprechauns into the lake.
"Worst date ever. I hope you know that."
"Trust me, I know."
I swear loudly, but I put the gloves on and scoop up one of the nearby charred chunks. It breaks in half, burnt head and torso in my hands, ashy butt and legs rolling into the damp grass. I swear again.
"Just pretend you're throwing a football or something," Aislinn says. But the next second she leans over and retches, so I know it bothers her too.
I hurl the top half of the leprechaun into the lake, and follow it up with his lower half. The next one I grab sticks together better; it goes in all at once with a major splash.
What the hell am I doing? This is a nightmare. And after this plus the other nightmare, I feel like my head might crack right open.
"Aislinn, baby," I say very calmly. "I'm gonna need an explanation for this. Did somebody, what, decide to fry the Far Darrig's ugly little slaves?"
"More or less," she says. "Really, I don't want to talk about it. The important thing is that they're all dead, so they can't steal any more babies."
That's a good thing. I can get behind that.
"So why we doin' this? Why not just leave 'em here for the police to puzzle over?"
"Best not to stress out the police officers with Fae matters, don't you think?" Aislinn says. "I'm sure you appreciate that, since you're going to be one eventually." Another leprechaun body spins toward the lake, splashes, and sinks. She's working fast, using her magic strength to throw them faster and harder. Me, I'm lucky if I get one done to every three she tosses.
"Straight up, weirdest thing I've ever done," I say.
"I know. I'm so sorry. There was no one else to help."
"Did you ask Arden?"
Aislinn sighs. "She and I are closer than we were, but we're not best buds. She's not the brush-your-hair-and-talk-about-your-day type of person, okay? I'm not sure what's up with her lately, but when she's not out on the town, shopping or doing cyber security jobs, she's in her room watching TV and hacking. So no, I didn't ask her to come help me fling leprechauns into the lake. Besides, you're stronger. And better to look at."
I check my phone. We've been at this for about twenty minutes, and maybe half of the leprechauns are gone. If we keep up the pace, I should be able to get to work on time.
But after another five minutes or so, Aislinn's pace slows down. She seems a little unsteady on her feet.
"Whoa girl," I say, grabbing her arm to keep her upright. My gloved hand leaves parallel ash marks on her upper arm. "You okay?"
"Too much magic," she says. Her eyes are looking a little glassy.
Crap. "Stay with me, okay? Stop using the magic, just use your own strength."
She's a lot slower on the job without the extra power boost; plus she seems a little loopy. She sends one burnt chunk hurtling off into the forest instead of the lake, and I have to go retrieve it.
Again and again, bending and lifting and throwing. Bend, lift, throw, over and over. Just a few more left. I glance at my phone again— I have five minutes to get to work.
Bend, lift, throw. Again. Three more times.
It's done. My arms are trembling a little, but the lake shore is clear of bodies. Just some weird flattened, blackened spots left in the grass.
"Aislinn, you got enough juice to get me to work?"
She nods. "I think so."
I take her face in my hands and give her the most serious look I can. "After that, no more magic for a while, okay? Please. Take a break. You've got your money, the bus, Arden— no reason to transport where you wanna go. Just try being a human for a day." And meanwhile, I'll try to forget the past 24 hours.
"Sure, I'll take a break." She nods and wraps both arms tightly around me, resting her head on my chest. "Sounds great."
She transports us to a spot right behind a dumpster, a favorite place of hers whenever she appears to meet me for lunch. There's a stray cat back there, and it squalls in terror when we show up.
"Beat it," I say, and it runs.
"I promise I'll call you later," Aislinn says, kissing me quickly on the lips. "Right now, I just need a nap."
"That's right, you take a good long rest. Sleep it off. And I'll try to forget what you just made me do." I soften my words with a grin.
"I'll make this up to you. Dinner and a movie tonight?"
It sounds like just the thing to erase this Fae crap from my head, and hers. "You got it."
As soon as I walk into the store, I realize I'm still wearing the blackened, ash-covered gloves. Quickly I toss them in the trash and wash my hands, arms, and face in the bathroom. I'm already wearing my red work shirt, and now it has leprechaun ashes in a big streak across the front. With paper towels, I manage to brush most of that off.
It's a weird start to a weird day. Nothing seems to go quite right, like I'm having some seriously bad luck. My register goes down, and when I switch to another that one breaks down, too. I spill a customer's drink all over her. I switch the drinks when I'm refilling and get complaints from customers who can't figure out why mocha coffee is coming out the caramel macchiato spigot.
Did I just get bad luck mojo cause I helped cover up some kinda leprechaun mass slaughter? It sure seems that way.
And then the day gets even weirder.
When I see the guy walk into the store, I know immediately that I've seen him somewhere— I just can't quite place it. He's like a medium height, going bald and trying to hide it. Thick-rimmed glasses reflect the light so it's hard to see his eyes. His round face spreads in a smile as he comes up to the counter with a handful of candy.
"It's Zane, isn't it?" he says. "How nice to see you again."
I stare at him. "Yeah..."
"You don't remember me, do you? Sorry, I have one of those faces that nobody seems to notice. I'm Malcolm."
Malcolm. Oh yeah, one of the Fae investigators, or whatever.
"Do you have a moment to talk?"
I don't want to talk to this guy, but he might give me some information on what he and his partner are after— information I can pass on to Aislinn.
"Sure, I'm going on break in a minute. Just wait for me at a table outside, man."
"Thank you." He nods, still with that oily, bland smile, and walks outside.
Lin raises an eyebrow at me. "Who's that?"
"Just some guy. Goin' on break, okay?"
"Sure."
I grab a soda an
d walk out to the red-painted metal tables. They have umbrellas, but those don't do too much against the pressure-cooker heat that we get here in South Carolina. Malcolm is mopping his glistening forehead with a napkin.
"Thanks for meeting with me," he says. "I want you to know that June and I are on your side."
"My side, huh?"
"Yes. Yours and Aislinn's. But we're also under obligation to the Fae Council to deliver certain information, certain reports."
"You know, I'm wondering if there even is a Fae Council," I say. "If there is, what kind of Fae are you? You seem perfectly normal to me. No green skin or lumpy faces or anything."
"Ah, you're talking about the leprechauns. Seen any lately?"
The leprechauns are dead, right? It couldn't hurt to talk about them. Maybe this guy and his cronies will leave Aislinn alone if they hear that the Far Darrig's little goons are gone, that they can't hurt humans any more.
"Actually yes, I've seen them. A whole lot of them, stone dead."
His eyes narrow behind the glasses, and I see a flash of eagerness in them. "They're dead, you say?"
"Yeah. Does that help your report or whatever?"
"Oh yes. Yes, it does. You know, I don't think we'll need to bother your friend Aislinn anymore. Just one more question, though. Do you know where the Far Darrig lives?"
What's the problem if I tell him? The Far Darrig is gone. Moved to Asheville, or who knows where. And even if he came back, it couldn't hurt for him to face up to what he's done. Maybe the Fae Council are just the people to hold him accountable.
"I don't know the exact place," I say. "But I know it's a loft downtown. Nice view, apparently, and a concierge guy who could probably help you out with locating the right unit." That's all Aislinn told me about it. Hopefully it's enough to get this guy off our backs, and not so much information that Aislinn would kill me for giving it up.
"Thank you," says Malcolm. "I'm so grateful for your cooperation; I've been eager to finish up our business here and get back home. You won't see me again."
"I sure hope not. No offense."
"None taken." His smile seems genuinely happy.
Cool. I did something good today; at least I think it was good. I have this nagging feeling that the guy was a little too happy about the leprechaun news. Shouldn't a Fae Council member be horrified to hear about the deaths of a bunch of Fae? He seemed so excited, so eager to go find the Far Darrig's place. I wonder why.
Druid (Secrets of the Fae Book 2) Page 10