by Ashlyn Chase
“For the gold, o’ course,” Clancy said.
“There is no gold. I already looked,” Lucky said.
“Did you? When?” Shamus asked.
“Weeks ago. When we began lookin’ for it. That was the first place I checked. And just in case I missed it the first time, I looked again this mornin’.”
“And you didn’t find it anywhere, did you?” Shamus asked, more as a statement of fact than a question.
“That’s what I said. Apparently the lad wasn’t interested in gold at all. He was hopin’ his mate would go to Boston with him.”
“And made up an elaborate lie to get him to go?” Clancy asked, still puzzled. “It doesn’t make sense.”
Shamus shrugged. “I guess he had to come up with a story to explain how he knew she was in Boston. He probably guessed she could be there, but didn’t want to sound unsure.”
“That could be part of it,” Lucky said. “He promised to show his friend the castle. Said if he saw that much, he’d know he wasn’t losin’ his mind.”
Clancy rose and paced across the circle of stones. “Somethin’ isn’t right. Are you sure you didn’t mishear, Lucky?”
“Nay, I was close enough.”
“And shame on you again for doin’ somethin’ so dangerous,” Shamus said, shaking his finger.
Watching Shamus, Clancy stroked his beard. “We need to go to Boston ourselves.”
The other leprechaun stared at him mutely.
“Why?” Shamus asked.
“In case they know where Clancy’s gold is,” Lucky said. “If it’s not in the caves or in the cottage, they must have hidden it somewhere else. If the lad thinks the dragons are in Boston, mayhaps they have family there.”
“We know for a fact they’re not in Ireland anymore,” Clancy said. “And you assured the lad his Shannon was all right, Lucky. Do you know any more about them?”
“I do not. I took his hands and saw her sweet, sad face. If she were no longer alive, I’d have seen darkness.”
With both hands on his hips, Clancy said, “We need to find modern clothes. And we should disguise ourselves so the dragons don’t recognize us if they see us before we see them. We should spy on them before we confront them openly.”
“If they think they can speak freely, we may hear where they’ve hidden the gold,” Lucky added, following Clancy’s logic.
“So we’re goin’ to Boston?” Clancy asked.
“We are,” Lucky said. “And we’d better be ready soon, if we’re to follow the lad to Shannon.”
* * *
“Come,” Rory said to Amber, who was still sitting on her bedroom floor an hour later. “I’ll make supper.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You must be. We’ve been here since late this mornin’, and you haven’t had a bite to eat. I’m famished.”
She didn’t answer.
Rory wondered what was making her so miserable. She must have received bad news over her cell phone. Or Euterpe could have said something cruel. That would explain why she didn’t reach out to her friend. “What is it, lass?”
She remained mute and simply shook her head.
“All right. I’ll be in the kitchen. If you want to talk, I’m willin’ to listen.”
He left her door open so that if she started to cry again, he could hear her. As he pulled ingredients out of the refrigerator and began cutting up vegetables, he thought, This is crazy. I still want the apartment, but not if it means Amber’s wretched mood fails to improve. Even after her insults, he still liked the girl.
A knock at the apartment door interrupted his thoughts. Amber made no move to answer it, so Rory turned off the gas burner and went to see who it was.
He opened the door to Euterpe, who stood there holding a suitcase.
“I hope you’re not movin’ in too.”
She smirked. “I can’t think of anything I’d like less. No. I went to Amber’s apartment and brought her some of the things she needed.”
He reached for the case. “I’ll take it to her.”
“No need. I’ve brought it this far.” Euterpe started to enter the apartment, but Rory stepped in front of her, blocking her way.
“I don’t think she’s in the mood for company.”
Amber drifted out of her bedroom. “Who’s here?” she asked him.
Euterpe leaned in enough to show Amber her face. “It’s me. I have your things. You know…the clothes and toiletries you wanted?”
“Oh. Yeah,” Amber said in an unexcited monotone. She waved her friend in.
Rory stepped aside, and Euterpe gave him an odd look as she passed by. She took the suitcase to Amber’s room.
“I guess I could eat a little bit after all,” Amber said to him.
He smiled. “Good. Is your friend goin’ to stay? We can always stretch the meal with bread and a few more vegetables.”
Euterpe emerged from the bedroom. “Stay for dinner? No, thank you. I’d rather not interfere.”
“Suit yerself.”
He returned to the kitchen and stirred the pot of stew he had made. It smelled as good as his sister Shannon’s, and she was the best cook in the family.
Without a ladle, he did his best to spoon plenty of meat and potatoes into Amber’s bowl along with the broth. Then his own. He had already set the milk crate for two and placed a half loaf of bread and a tub of butter between them.
Euterpe turned before leaving. “Are you and your sisters still having that session you spoke of earlier?”
Rory paused. The song he had composed was meant to make Amber uncomfortable at first, but then maybe she’d laugh after the punch line…unless she misinterpreted it. He was torn. She could certainly use a good laugh—but would she see the song as good-natured fun?
“I…don’t know.”
Euterpe clasped her hands and begged, “Oh, pleeease. I really want to hear that new piece you said you were working on.”
Oh shite. If she was indeed his family’s muse, he didn’t want to upset her. They might never be able to play again. But Amber…
“I suppose we could play a few old favorites,” he said. “Would you like that, Amber?”
Euterpe narrowed her eyes. “I want to hear the new one.”
Rory sighed. “We’ll see. It may not be ready.”
She raised one eyebrow. “I have the feeling it will be ready enough to practice.”
He glanced at the sheet music he had written and that was lying on the window seat. Shite and double shite. He didn’t have time to compose a whole new song. “Fine,” he ground out between clenched teeth. “We’ll give it a try.”
“Good. What time should I come back?”
“Eight.”
“Wonderful. See you then.” She waved on her way out the door.
Amber asked a question for the first time in an hour. “Do you prefer not to have an audience the first time you play a song?”
“Indeed. It would be like puttin’ the first draft of a book into an unsuspectin’ librarian’s hands.”
Suddenly an odor of gas permeated the room. They both sniffed the air.
“Do you smell that?”
Amber strolled to the kitchen. “Fuck!” She rushed to the stove and turned it off.
Rory ran in after her. Somehow the gas had come back on—by itself.
“I swear I turned it off. All the way. I heard it click.”
Amber flicked the switch on the range hood and the fan roared to life. She ran to the living room and struggled to open the window. Rory was beside her in a second and easily opened the other two windows.
She whirled on him. “What the hell, Rory? Are you trying to kill me?”
“Of course not. I don’t know what happened. I turned it off. I even went back after and served the stew. It was off. I
swear it.”
Amber crossed her arms and, mimicking his accent, said, “Did you now? It must be magic that turned it back on.”
Magic… The leprechauns? He shook his head. It couldn’t be. Why would they follow the dragons clear to Boston when they’d acted as if they’d like to wipe them from the map? Was that it? Were they so angry that they were trying to kill him and his sisters?
“Amber, me darlin’, I don’t know what happened, but I’ll check the stove ever’ hour until the others get here. You’ll think I’m one of those OCD types I’ve heard about. If it happens again, we’ll need to report it to the managers.”
She stared at him and eventually let out a long sigh. “Fine.”
“Come and eat your stew before it gets cold.”
“Or blows up?”
She clearly didn’t believe him, but he wasn’t going to argue. He’d learned not to poke a hornet’s nest, even when the bees appeared to be sleeping or away from home.
During dinner he tried to draw Amber out by making polite chitchat. That was like trying to pull railroad spikes from their ties. Even so, he sensed that she was beginning to relax a little.
Finally, she asked him another question. “So, your music… Have you ever recorded any of it?”
He tipped his head. “A few of our sessions wound up on YouTube, if that’s what you’re askin’.”
“Well, no. I was asking if you have any CDs.”
He stroked his chin. “Never even thought of makin’ any. We play for our own joy and whoever showed up at O’Malley’s during our sessions.”
“What’s O’Malley’s?”
“The local pub. In Ireland, it’s where everyone gathers. It’s where news and gossip get swapped and often confused.” He smiled. Playing kept the siblings out of the gossip circles.
Realizing that Amber had probably never spent much time in a small village pub, he thought he should explain the inside jokes that occur.
“About that new song…”
She pushed the stew around in her bowl. “What about it?”
“Well, it’s not a serious ballad like the one you heard before. It’s more of a jig with a humorous punch line.”
“Okay.” She sighed. “I’m going to change into something…else.” She left him to his own thoughts and retreated to her bedroom.
When she finally emerged, he was stunned speechless. She wore a beautiful, silky white blouse that made her look virginal and sinful at the same time. Every man’s fantasy. Should I compliment her on it? Would she doubt my sincerity and insult me by sayin’ so?
Before he could decide one way or the other, someone knocked at the door. He knew it had to be one of his sisters, because they used the secret knock. One, then two, then three.
He opened the door and in strode Chloe. “Shannon will be right along. She set off upstairs to invite Sly, Morgaine, and Gwyneth.”
Moments later, Nathan followed Gwyneth into the apartment. They each carried a bottle of wine. For some reason, Sly and Morgaine were late or staying away.
Euterpe was right on time though—which didn’t surprise Rory a bit. She brought a six-pack of Guinness.
“Ah,” Chloe said. “Now we’ll have the craic.”
Amber raised her brows.
Rory was quick to interpret. “‘Craic’ means fun. Nothin’ more.”
“Oh.” Amber chuckled.
At last. He was glad to hear the welcome sound from her.
Before he closed the door, he heard Sly saying, “We’re coming…with furniture.” The vampire easily carried two chairs with him. When he entered and saw Amber, he slumped as if the weight were a burden. Morgaine was right behind him, also carrying two chairs. He saw her drop one, seemingly on purpose. A couple of candles rolled off.
“Oops,” she said.
“I’ll get it.” Nathan handed his bottle of wine to Gwyneth and rushed into the hallway, then brought in the fourth chair.
Now, along with the futon and window seat, there were plenty of places to sit.
Amber settled on the futon with Euterpe.
Nathan and Gwyneth took two of the chairs. Sly and Morgaine sat on the other ones. That left the window seat, which already felt like the band’s stage.
“What’s this?” Chloe asked as she picked up the song from the padded bench. “A new song?”
He glanced at Euterpe. “I wish we’d had time to rehearse it.”
Chloe sat beside her sister, and the two of them studied it to learn their parts. Soon they burst into laughter. He knew they’d have that reaction, but how would Amber take it?
“I’ll have a hell of a time singin’ me part without crackin’ up,” Shannon said.
“Do you want me to do it?” Chloe asked.
“Why don’t all three of you give it a try?” Euterpe asked.
The siblings glanced at each other. “One of us needs to play a woodwind,” Chloe said. “And that’s usually me.”
Euterpe shrugged. “Ah, well. It’s your brother’s song after all. I’m sure he wrote it with that in mind.”
“I’m just to join in the chorus anyway,” Shannon said. “And once you learn it, all of you are invited to join in.”
“Oh, that sounds wonderful,” Euterpe said.
“Feel free to clap along with the beat,” Rory said. “The pub patrons often do.” He hoped they’d clap so loud they’d drown out the words.
“Well, without further ado…” Rory picked up his guitar and Chloe her flute. This time Shannon played the squeeze box instead of her harp. The song needed a lively instrument, and he didn’t need to tell her that.
Here goes nothin’.
After one round of the melody, the crowd joined in by clapping to the beat and he added his voice:
“They say you shouldn’t covet your neighbor’s pretty things,
But mine has somethin’ special. To me she nearly sings.
Her skin is pink, her hair is soft, and her bottom is so round,
I wish I had one like her. My joy would be unbound.”
Shannon joined in the chorus:
“I wish I had one like her, my joy would be unbound.
Paddy’s pig… Paddy’s pig… I wish I had me neighbor’s pig.”
To her credit, she didn’t laugh or miss a note. The crowd burst out in giggles though.
“Me friend, he said she’d come to me as soon as pigs could fly.
And so I made her special wings and tried to catch her eye.”
He winked at an astonished-looking Amber.
“I coveted that pig so much my heart it was a-achin’,
I asked Paddy what her name was. He said he called her Bacon!”
At this the crowd roared in laughter—just as he’d hoped they would.
Shannon joined him in the chorus:
“I asked Paddy what her name was. He said he called her Bacon.
Paddy’s pig… Paddy’s pig. I wish I had me neighbor’s pig.”
Now even Amber was grinning.
* * *
Chad the ghost chuckled. So far he hadn’t pulled off anything really dramatic, except turning the gas back on. He had the two roommates confused and uncomfortable, but he didn’t want the other tenants pointing fingers at him—yet. There was more fun to be had with these two.
The one thing he realized after watching them together was that he didn’t really want to accomplish his secret goal. He didn’t want to scare away one at the expense of the other. These two belonged together. Being a man of the sixties—the peace and love generation—Chad saw another outcome he’d like to achieve. But could it be done in the three days he’d been given?
A plan formed in his mind as the evening wore on.
* * *
A few minutes after everyone had gone, the lights suddenly went out and Rory gr
oaned. “Do American electric companies need us to pay them a security deposit too?”
“I’ve never heard of anything like that,” Amber said. She strode to the windows. “The neighbors have power.”
He opened the door to the hallway. The impressive chandelier was bathing the stairs and hallway with light. “It’s not the whole of the buildin’. Just us.”
They faced each other and shrugged.
“I suppose Sly and Morgaine might know what happened,” Amber offered.
“I’ve no phone to contact them all the way up on the third floor. I could shout for one of me sisters…”
Amber worried her lip. Finally she rose and said, “I’ll call from my bedroom.”
“Why wouldn’t you just bring the phone out here?” He huffed. “You still don’t trust me.”
“It’s not that. I want to plug it in to test the electricity.” She whirled on her foot and marched to her bedroom. Arguing wouldn’t help matters. She heard him mutter “Feckers,” as she closed the door.
Amber plugged in her phone’s charger and connected it to her phone. She didn’t expect anything to happen, since no overhead lights probably meant no electricity in the apartment. But there it was…the phone’s green light came on as if saying, “Hello. The electricity is alive and well.”
To her relief, she watched the bars fill. “Ah…at last. Connection to the outside world,” she whispered to herself.
She found the phone number for the managers in her call history and redialed it.
“Hello,” Sly answered before Amber heard it ring on her side. It surprised her and she hesitated for a moment.
Click.
He’d hung up on her! Amber remembered that computers dialing random numbers often came with a delay before a human was connected. He must have thought… Oh, never mind. Amber simply dialed again.
This time it rang once, twice, three times, then went to voice mail.
She was about to leave a message, but instead of the usual recorded greeting and beep to leave a message, the recording said, “This voice mailbox is full.”
“For the love of… Now what?”
Amber left her phone plugged in on the floor, but before she returned to the living room, she tried flicking on the overhead light. Nothing happened. Weird.