by Bella Falls
It occurred to me that both Dash and I had done just that. Hanging my head, I hoped that our friend had no ill will in our own agreement.
He went on, his voice weaving the tale of his past. “The water sprites granted me father the ability to exist underwater with none of the weaknesses he formerly knew. However, he was warned nae to seek what lay beneath the waters of Loch Rudraige. With all of his success, it did not take long for the king to turn his eye to the lake in Ulster and what treasures lay beneath its murky depths. He gave no heed to the warnin’ when he entered the lake. There he met a mighty creature of the water and faced its monstrosity with great fear. Although he survived, what he had laid eyes upon drained the life from him and affected him so deep, he ne’er spoke to me of what he saw. Before his passin’, he willed all that was his to me, includin’ his great sword Caladbolg, his title, and his powers.”
A heavy silence stretched between the three of us when Lucky finished his tale, letting his words wash over Dash and me. He pushed back from the table and disappeared.
“Did he tell you any of this?” I whispered to Dash.
The wolf shifter shook his head. “He told me a very condensed version so I understood what he meant by losing his luck. All of this,” Dash waved his hands in front of him. “It’s incredible.”
“And we’ve sworn not to tell anybody. Frosted fairy wings!” I exclaimed, grabbing onto Dash’s arm. “Lucky’s a king. Are we supposed to, you know, bow or genuflect or something?”
“None of that nonsense, now.” Lucky set three glasses of beer on the table, one for each of us. He finished the rest of my drink and set it aside to grasp his full pint. “I figured ye could use a little help to keep up.”
Without prompting, Dash and I both drank the thick, dark bitter ale from his homeland in large gulps. I left half the beer in the glass while the shifter finished all of his.
Lucky nodded in approval. “Remember that I was now king of the south of Ulster. The high king at the time, Fachtna Fáthach, took notice of me, and the two of us became allies and, in the end, friends. We ruled in tandem, and he supported me attempts to help those who lived underneath me, fae and human alike. While he knew of me father’s powers and possibly suspected I possessed them after me da’s passin’, he never mentioned them in my presence nor asked me to use them for his own gain. Those were golden times for our people.
“But in all me time, I’ve found that darkness does not like the light. After days of glory and wonder, shadows come to block out the sun. King Fachtna’s own son defeated him in a crushin’ battle at a time when I was not there to fight at my friend’s side. As the new high king, his son Conchobar mac Nessa, ruled over me. With nothin’ more than his own greed drivin’ his deeds, he demanded me fealty and forced me to use my inherited powers for his purposes. If not for one precious thing, me time spent under Conchobar’s heel would have broken me. If ye cannae guess what it was that saved me, ye have never lived.”
“A woman,” growled Dash.
“Aye.” Lucky rubbed his temple. “And not just any woman. Queen Medb, wife of Conchobar, who turned out to be as ruthless as her husband in the end. She would be the one to ruin me into diminishin’ to what I am now, but not before we had lain together enough for her to become with child.”
My eyes widened. “You have kids?”
“I did, but I ne’er laid eyes on them. When Conchobar learned of me treachery, it was all I could do to save me skin, a king’s title of me own or not.” Lucky wiped at his eyes.
Dash held up a finger. “Hold on, how did the high king find out you were the father?”
Lucky emitted a high-pitched word of exclamation in a language I didn’t understand. “Medb told him herself. She used me ability to bring good fortune to become pregnant. But with her husband preoccupied with increasin’ his own power, she was left with me to sire her offspring, givin’ no thought to the consequences.”
“How did you escape?” I asked.
The leprechaun flashed me a wry grin. “By testin’ the power of luck on myself. I made it all the way to the coast and called upon the great Tuatha Dé Danann god of the sea, Manannán mac Lir. I asked him to help me leave the isle and bring me to safer shores. Already upset about the sea sprites grantin’ my father powers to begin with, he readily set forth a bargain. If I were willin’ to give back the gifted magic, he would bring me to a new land far away.
“I did not mind relenquishin’ the gift of underwater magic as it never appealed to me. But I did not want to lose me power of good fortune in fear that me own destiny might crumble to dust without it. Manannán mac Lir demanded his price, so I countered with the gift of me fearsome sword, Caladbolg. It was a great sacrifice as the weapon contained more power than to take life. The sea god accepted the offer but warned me that by holdin’ on to the other gift from the sprites, it would be bound to me, body and soul. For magic always has a price.”
Lucky’s words hung in the air. The three of us finished our drinks. The sound of our glasses clinking on the table echoed in the empty bar.
“How is it you went from being a king to running The Rainbow’s End?” I was sure the leprechaun had many more tales tucked away, but I had to know how he ended up in Honeysuckle.
“I am not what I once was. The longer I have been away from me home, the more I become less myself. And out of revenge, both Conchobar and Medb campaigned against me and my people. Some myths are created by reality and some are lies passed on through generations. All that the humans know of me kind exists because of greed and vindictiveness. They wanted to annihilate all leprechauns, and especially desired me to be hunted down. They spread rumors of us hoardin’ away treasures from mortals and tales of how we bring luck. I suppose I chose my name as a reminder of my former life and to choose to live in the opposite manner.”
“So the luck you want me to find is a magic power?” I clarified, fear rising from the pits of my stomach.
Lucky’s face dropped. “If ye cannae find it, then I don’t know who else to turn to.”
“I told you that you needed to help him.” Dash bumped my knee again with his.
Panic rose in my chest, and I stood up fast. “I want to help, but I can’t promise to succeed.” The task loomed larger than our entire town in front of me. “Besides, you know I’m limited. I couldn’t even find you last night.” I pointed at the leprechaun.
Dash’s eyebrows furrowed. “Lucky, are you sure your luck is actually gone?”
“If ye woke up in the mornin’ and ye could nae turn into a wolf no matter what you tried, would ye think you lost something important?” the leprechaun challenged.
Dash growled at the thought. “Yes. But the ability might come back.”
“Fine. What if ye woke up and all your arms and legs were gone. What would ye do then?” pressed Lucky.
I slumped into my chair again. “I’d do two things. One, I’d want to know how they were taken. And two, I’d want to find them. Especially if my life depended on me getting them back.”
Lucky relaxed with a sigh. “Exactly.”
“I didn’t say I could do it. We need to consult someone way smarter than us.” Taking out my phone, I pulled up the desired number and called it. “Hey, listen. Don’t say anything until I’m done. I’m here at The End with Lucky and Dash. I need you to come here. Now.”
Mason stood in front of the three of us with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. “So Lucky wants something found, and you need my help. But you won’t tell me what it is he’s lost or why you need me here?”
The detective wasn’t exactly the first person I called. Nana couldn’t come due to needing to put on a good face in front of witch council members or some such political nonsense. If the situation wasn’t as complicated as it was, I might have called in my gang. But since Lucky wanted to keep things quiet, there was only one person I thought I could trust in this situation.
“He has a point. If we want him to help us figure it out, he has to know som
ething.” I looked to Lucky to make the decision.
Dash muttered something under his breath and coughed to cover up his displeasure at my executed plan.
“What was that?” Mason asked.
Before those two could lock horns again, I cleared my throat. “Lucky, I think we can tell him what it is you lost without giving away anything else. He has to have some information to work with.”
The leprechaun eyed each one of us. He dropped his guard and hung his head. “Fine. But I’ll be needin’ ye to guarantee that anything ye hear from me will stay between us.” He stuck out his hand and struck a new bargain.
“Lucky’s luck is gone,” I declared, wanting to get things rolling fast.
Mason made a weird face. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“Get past that realization faster, please. It goes with his attack last night. Whoever it was did something to drain the power of luck from him. That’s really all you need to know.” I glanced over at my shorter friend. “Right?”
Lucky paused to think it over and gave me an approving grin. “That’ll do.”
Mason glanced at Dash, and I understood his unspoken question of why the wolf shifter was involved. To distract the detective, I volunteered the information I really didn’t want to acknowledge. “I already tried once using my magic to find it. Nothing happened.”
My confession knocked Mason off of whatever jealous path he was about to take. “Again? That’s…something worth exploring. But, yeah, later.” He cleared his throat. “Now that you’ve had some rest, can you remember any more details from last night?” he asked Lucky. Settling into his role of detective, he interrogated the leprechaun in rapid succession.
Dash approached me from the side and bumped me with his shoulder. “I’ve heard that you and the detective have gotten close over the last few months.”
A burst of air escaped my lips. “Now? You want to start this conversation now? Our friend needs our help. I think any other talks can be put to the side until we figure things out.”
“I didn’t mean anything—” the shifter started.
“If you two can pay attention,” interrupted Mason, glaring at Dash, “I could use your thoughts about how this is at all possible.”
My brain had been working on that issue while Mason caught up, but Dash had interrupted my thoughts. Back on track, I raised my hand. “I think it’s important that you weren’t born with good fortune. That magic was given to you.”
“It was?” Mason asked.
Lucky narrowed his eyes at me, reminding me to be more careful with my words. “Tis true. I will nae tell you how it came to me.”
“But Charli’s right. If the power was given to you, then it stands to reason someone could take it away.” The detective tapped his mouth with his finger.
“But how would whoever attacked Lucky know anything about the magic in the first place?” Dash asked. He gave a curt nod to the leprechaun to ensure he hadn’t said too much.
“Aren’t all of your kind expected to grant some level of luck to anyone who finds you, Lucky?” The detective’s question reminded me of our friend’s tale and how much Mason didn’t know.
“I suspect whoever attacked me thought the same thing, to be sure,” agreed Lucky.
“But,” started the detective, “I’ve worked cases before where someone tried to steal another being’s magic to use for themselves. It never lasted long and usually brought about some form of disaster for all involved. Which means, we need to figure this out before whoever did this is gone.” He reached out his hand to grasp Lucky’s shoulder and sucked in a harsh breath.
Mason closed his eyes and squeezed the leprechaun tighter, his other hand grabbing onto the other shoulder. The detective bowed his head, his brow furrowed. Lucky endured the touch until he wrenched out of the detective’s grip.
“What are you doing?” Dash took a step closer, preparing to step in.
Mason’s chest rose and sank with deep breaths. “It’s here. Whoever has your luck, they’re still here. I’m sure of it.”
Chapter Nine
Neither Mason nor I spoke about our suspicions all the way to the event area. Dash and Lucky headed back to their teams in order to check in on things and to give the appearance of everything being normal. But the detective and I needed to consult with someone much more experienced and knowledgable.
It took longer than I expected to locate Nana. Everyone we asked pointed us in the direction of where she had just been. We messaged people on our spell phones, and still couldn’t locate her. Even though we spoke a few words to each other in the search, we avoided the important, big fat elephant-sized issue between us—how did he know something about Lucky’s luck and I didn’t?
Mason’s phone buzzed, and he checked it. “Big Willie says I need to go to the administration tent. And that I should bring you.”
“Does he say why?”
“I’m not asking my boss why. Let’s go there and see if he or anyone in there knows where your grandmother is.” He shoved his phone back in his pocket with haste.
A little bit of anger rose in my chest. Why the sudden wall of ice between us again? With quick steps, I hurried in front of him in order to beat him there.
“Charli, wait,” he called from behind, eating my dust.
I zigged and zagged my way through the crowd, my stomach growling from the scent of grilling meat and other tempting foods floating in the breeze. Mason shouted at me a couple more times, but his calls only pushed me a little bit faster. I entered the tent at a hurried clip and almost knocked over a table with a taped poster board that read, “Information.”
“So sorry,” I gushed, but spotted Big Willie talking to Nana on the other side.
My grandmother held up her arms to greet me with a quick hug. “I was just tellin’ Willie how you can help his son find his lost teddy bear.”
The young sasquatch clutched his father’s leg and hid behind it when I waved at him. I swallowed hard, not prepared to be called to duty.
“Tell Miss Charli here thank you for using her magic to help you,” instructed the sheriff, shaking his leg.
I grasped my stomach, willing it not to burst from my nerves. “Uh, Nana, I don’t think this is a good time.”
“Nonsense.” The smile my grandmother gave didn’t reach her eyes. “Nothing’s scheduled until after lunch, which means we have time a plenty. Stop kidding around and help, Charli Bird.”
Mason approached from the side and addressed his boss first. “If you don’t mind waiting, Sheriff, there’s something we need to discuss with Ms. Goodwin first.”
Nana huffed and bent over a little, wiggling her forefinger at the child. “Little Willie, can you come over here and let Miss Charli hold your hand? I promise, she won’t hurt you.”
Big Willie unhooked his son’s grip from around his leg and encouraged the littlest sasquatch forward with a couple of pats on his back. The furry fella failed to meet my gaze, but he bravely held out his hand.
I begged Mason for help with a pleading look, but the detective only shrugged. Not sure I wanted a clear answer for my suspicions using a poor child as the test subject, I couldn’t find a graceful way out of the situation and the tent.
“Try really hard to think about your teddy bear, Willie,” I said, taking his tiny hand in mine.
“S’name’s Willie,” the child replied, finally glancing up at me.
The sheriff breathed out a dramatic huff. “We tried to get him to give the dang toy another name.”
His son stuck his chin in the air. “My daddy’s name is Willie. My name’s Willie. So my bear’s name is Willie, too.”
I giggled and ruffled his hairy head. “You can’t fight that logic.” The little kid gave me the first reason to laugh today. For him, I would try. “Okay, Little Willie. Let’s try this. Think really hard about your bear.”
The boy did as I asked, shutting his eyes tight and sticking his tongue out in cute concentration. It didn’t take long to figure
out my magic, like Lucky’s, wasn’t there. My eyes flitted to the person who I would bet a good chunk of my late-uncle’s inheritance possessed it instead.
Too many seconds ticked by with nothing happening. Confused, the young sasquatch whimpered with impatience.
“Hold on for one more minute, buddy.” Mason leaned down and reached for his boss’s son’s shoulder with a gentle touch. It took him a few seconds to let the kid go, regret and confusion coming off of him in waves.
“Do you know where my bear is?” Little Willie asked, large tears pooling in his eyes.
“I think I do,” admitted Mason. “If you can let us talk for one moment, I’ll help you find him, okay?”
“What’s going on?” pressed the Sheriff. “Whaddya mean, you know where the dang thing is?”
Nana glowered at Mason and me. “Willie, why don’t you take your son there to get a funnel cake.” She handed him some money. “It’s on me. Get one for yourself, too. We’ll meet you outside this tent in about fifteen.”
“Vivi, what in tarnation—”
“You like funnel cakes, don’t you?” my grandmother cooed at the sheriff’s son, getting the child all riled up and begging for food. “Fifteen minutes, Sheriff.”
The larger sasquatch frowned but obeyed his distracted son, allowing his large body to be dragged outside by the child.
“Hey, y’all do me a favor and give me fifteen minutes to talk to my granddaughter,” Nana requested, ushering out the few others sitting behind tables in the tent. She undid the ties at either end of the fabric flaps and closed the tent down. With a wave of her hands, she set up a magical seal around us.
“I don’t know if that was necessary,” started Mason.