Emerald Isle (A Stacy Justice Mystery)

by Annino, Barbra

  “Begging for mercy,” he tsked. “Not very Seeker-like of you.”

  With my good hand, I reached for the broom charged with generations of Geraghty power and held it up, hoping to deflect the next blow.

  To my surprise, it did. Aedon flew back and smacked into a tree, and whatever body part he had planned to break in me next was broken in him. It looked to be his arm, judging from the way he clutched at it, screaming.

  Then I heard someone call my name. Aedon swung his head in that direction.

  And I knew it was my only chance.

  Chapter 33

  Ivy, John, and Birdie stood outside the car, comparing notes.

  “We all saw the same thing?” John asked, incredulous.

  “It would appear so,” Birdie said.

  Ivy said, “Well, that was easy.”

  Birdie looked at the young girl. Something tugged at her mind, something just out of her reach, which was understandable given the amount of energy she had just exerted. Still, it seemed important.

  “Yes, it was,” Birdie said. She looked at John. “A little too easy, wouldn’t you say?”

  John raised an eyebrow. “What are you saying? That you don’t think the cauldron is at the castle?”

  Birdie suddenly felt very weak. She leaned against the car.

  “Where is Stacy?” Ivy asked.

  John looked around. “She had the farthest point to cover. I’m sure she’ll be along any moment.”

  Birdie put her head down, focusing on a single blade of grass, trying to decipher what her instincts were telling her.

  Ivy was buzzing with the thrill of the quest. “We head back to the castle now, right? We tell the council that it’s there?”

  John frowned. “Not sure that’s a good idea.” He looked at Ethan, who was craning his neck to see what they were doing. “Obviously there’s a breach. A rogue member. Nothing gets in or out of that place without a council member’s knowledge.”

  Ivy ran that idea through her mind. Then she brightened. “Maybe it’s a test? To see how well we work together? Maybe they want to confirm us, but they wanted to make us do one more mission first, so they staged it.”

  John said, “This was staged, all right. Just not for the reasons you think.” He approached Birdie. “What do you think?”

  She was about to say that perhaps the spell hadn’t worked after all, but then a pain shot through her head. She bent over.

  John reached out to her. “You all right?”

  “Birdie?” Ivy asked, a quiver in her voice.

  “Quiet, both of you,” Birdie said. Once they stopped speaking, the message came through clearly.

  Birdie’s head snapped up. “She’s in trouble.”

  John didn’t hesitate. He reached inside the car, grabbed a bag, and pulled out a handgun. “Stay here,” he barked.

  Ivy said, “No. We’re in this together.”

  Birdie grabbed her arm before the teenager could chase after John.

  Hold on, Anastasia. Help is coming.

  I grabbed the athame and, in one swift move, launched it into Aedon’s back.

  He screamed in agony and collapsed forward, and I said, “Sometimes it’s the instrument, dickhead.”

  I hauled my broken body up.

  Then I heard Birdie whisper to me in my mind. She said they were coming for me. I didn’t know if I had killed Aedon or just wounded him, but I decided it wasn’t a good idea to stick around to find out.

  John called my name again, and I said, “Here!”

  My right leg was no use to me, and my left shoulder was dangling from its socket, but my will to survive was stronger than the pain. Inch by inch, I made my way forward until I saw John. I nearly bawled at the sight of him.

  He faltered for a split second when he laid eyes on me. Behind him was another man. The one from the vision before the cauldron appeared. The one I couldn’t place. He moved forward, a sinister look on his face.

  “Behind you!” I shouted.

  John whipped around. “Where?”

  The man was moving toward him slowly.

  I pointed. “He’s right there!”

  John said, “Where? Stacy, I don’t see anyone!”

  He waved his gun in the direction of the man, whose face was twisted into a ferocious snarl. As I tried to point him out again, the man disappeared.

  Who was he? Was he a spirit? Had he died here in battle?

  John rushed forward, ignoring my warning, and I saw Birdie and Ivy rounding the hill.

  Relief I desperately welcomed washed over me.

  Then I heard Ivy scream, “No!”

  I shifted to the left, following her gaze. That’s when the athame—my athame, which had been planted in Aedon’s back—pierced my heart.

  John charged forward, caught me just before I dropped. I looked at the dagger protruding from my chest, then over to where Aedon still lay, facedown in the grass.

  How?

  The answer came in the form of that same man. A spirit, I realized, hovering over me.

  He vanished, without saying a word. Without my knowing who he was.

  As I felt the life force drain from my body, I managed only one word.

  “Mom.”

  Then the world blackened and I drifted away.

  John lifted Anastasia’s body carefully. Birdie watched as the man walked toward her, carrying her granddaughter in his arms, her head lolled back, her legs dangling like those of a puppet.

  Lifeless.

  He walked toward Birdie, who was still frozen in shock by what she had just seen.

  The dead can’t hurt you, she had always told the girl. She thought it an important lesson for a young necromancer just learning her skills. She didn’t want her granddaughter to grow up fearful of her spirit guides. She had always taught her that the spirits were there to help her, and she them.

  It had been a deadly false lesson, Birdie now realized, as a lump rose in her throat. For the blade had been pulled from Aedon’s back as if out of thin air.

  Aedon’s back. Aedon, her friend, her ally.

  Her betrayer.

  What had he come here to do? What was his purpose for attacking Anastasia?

  More importantly, whose invisible hands had plunged the blade into Anastasia’s heart? That large heart that once beat with love and compassion for all who knew her.

  Now still.

  Guilt poured through Birdie. Her granddaughter had tried to warn her, tried to tell her that there was a malicious force following her. If only Birdie had insisted they perform the graveyard spell. If only she had never brought her here at all.

  As John reached her, Birdie gasped at the sight of the mangled girl, her grandchild. The sweet young girl she had raised, cared for, taught.

  The lump burst forth, not in the form of tears, but in a ball of anger that shook Birdie’s core.

  Birdie pumped her fist to the sky, wailed to the gods. “I trusted in you.”

  Why hadn’t they protected her?

  Then again, why hadn’t she?

  Ivy was shaking, crying.

  Ethan jumped out of the car, yelled, “Bloody hell! What happened?”

  He whipped his coat off and was about to drape it over the body of her deceased granddaughter, when Birdie intervened. She slapped the coat away and said, “No. You don’t touch her. You don’t go near her!”

  She was fueled by rage, her thoughts a jumble of images, conversations, memories.

  How had it come down to this? All that she had devoted to the council, to her heritage, to her people.

  How could they have betrayed her?

  How could they hurt this precious child? Anastasia didn’t deserve this. All she wanted was to bring her mother home, and to please Birdie.

  Anastasia had trusted Birdie, and she had failed the girl.

  Ethan squeaked, “You think I had something to do with this?” He snapped his head back and forth, looking at all of them. “No, you can’t believe that. I never left the car.�
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  John told Ivy to open the door to the backseat. She did, and he gently laid Anastasia’s body inside. He covered her with his coat. Then he spun around and punched Ethan in the face.

  “You better tell me everything you know, pal, or the next slug will come from my Glock.”

  Ethan was doubled over, clutching his right eye. “I swear on my life, I’ve no idea what is happening.”

  “So you didn’t see the head honcho come around the bend?” John growled.

  “Who? You mean that tosser Aedon? He’s here?”

  Ethan seemed genuinely perplexed. Birdie stepped forward and rested a hand on John’s shoulder. “There’s one way to know for sure.”

  Birdie had seen Lolly pack deadly nightshade for Anastasia. She reached into the girl’s pocket, kissed her forehead gently. When she emerged, she held the labeled vial out for Ethan. “One taste, and you’ll be forced to tell the truth.”

  “Or I’ll be dead. Isn’t that stuff poisonous?” Ethan asked nervously. “How do I know you aren’t the bad guys?”

  John flashed his gun. “I will be if you don’t do what she asks.”

  Ethan reluctantly opened his mouth, and Birdie placed a drop of the herb onto his tongue.

  She waited a moment, then asked, “Did you know Aedon was after my granddaughter?”

  Ethan’s eyes were as big as the moon. “Aedon did this?”

  Birdie said, “He’s telling the truth. Everyone get in the car.”

  John cuffed Ethan to the passenger-seat door handle. “I’m driving, asshole.”

  Ivy sniffled. She crawled into the first backseat, put her arm over to where Anastasia’s body lay. “Are we going to the hospital?”

  John shot Birdie an uneasy glance.

  Birdie said, “It’s too late for that. We’re going to the castle.”

  She looked out the window at the ancient mound, hoping upon hope that for what she was about to do, she would be forgiven.

  Chapter 34

  It was eleven p.m. when they arrived back at the castle. Come midnight, it would all be over.

  One way or another.

  “All right,” Birdie said with much more conviction than she actually felt, “does everyone know what they are supposed to do?”

  Ivy nodded despondently.

  John said, “Ten four.”

  Ethan said, “Aye.”

  John leaned in to whisper in Birdie’s ear. “You sure about this guy?”

  Birdie said, “Not unequivocally.” She glanced at Ethan. “But we’ll need him.”

  John nodded.

  Ethan said, “Would you please uncuff me now? I’ll do as you ask, believe me.” He shot a disgusted glance at the behemoth stone structure. “I want nothing more to do with the O’Conor name after tonight.”

  John unlocked the handcuffs and said something in Ethan’s ear that Birdie couldn’t hear. Ethan rolled his eyes, and John shut the car door.

  Birdie paused, took a long look at the car that held the broken body of her oldest granddaughter. She allowed a single, fat tear to slide slowly down her cheek. Then she locked up her grief, wiped her cheek, and said, “Let’s do this.”

  The Guardian, the Mage, and the Warrior approached the castle. John tried to open the front door, but it was locked. He was about to ring the bell, when Birdie stopped him.

  “They mustn’t know we’re back. Not yet. There may be questions about Aedon, and we’ve no time for inquiries. We don’t know how deep this goes; it may involve the entire council.”

  Luckily, Ethan was privy to a private road that led to the grounds. They hadn’t needed permission to open that gate. As an O’Conor and Tallulah’s grandson, he held a key to the separate entrance.

  John looked at the imposing door, stepped back, and said, “How do you break into a fortress?”

  Ivy snapped her fingers. “Through the roof.” She tugged on John’s arm. “Follow me.”

  As they crept along the side of the building, hugging the stone wall, Ivy explained that her class had toured the castle once. It had been a very informative tour, and, being the inquisitive girl she was, she had asked many questions.

  “You see those towers?” She pointed to four massive stone structures that stood to the rear of the castle. “They all connect on the roof, and to the second floor via tunnels, so sentries could pass from one part of the castle to another. The guards would work foot patrol up top, monitoring for invasions. If an enemy attacked, they could quickly move to whatever section needed protecting by scaling the towers.”

  Birdie was impressed.

  Ivy licked her lips, looked at Birdie. “There’s, like, a hundred steps to the top, at least. You up for that?”

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  Ivy smiled. They each took a tower and agreed to meet in the middle of the roof.

  As Birdie climbed the stone tube, the letter she had found in Anastasia’s pocket ran through her mind.

  The letter written in her daughter’s hand.

  It had read:

  My Darling,

  I hope this note finds you in time. I know that they have called you on a mission and that you are coming to the castle. I fear for your safety. As sure as the sun shines and the moon glows, I feel it in my bones that there is a conspiracy underfoot. I don’t know who is behind it or why, though I suspect that my upcoming hearing, and the man I slew, may have something to do with it.

  I still don’t know who he was, or why he intended to harm you. All I know is that there is just one within these walls whom I trust. One whom you will need, who will believe.

  Trust no one else. The name of our ally is

  And that was all. As if she had been interrupted before she could finish writing.

  Whom was her daughter referring to?

  Birdie glanced up. She was halfway to the top. She picked up speed, pulling herself through the length of the tower one narrow step at a time.

  Finally, she saw the opening. She crawled out of the tower and scanned the roof. Ivy and John were frantically searching for a passageway.

  John said, “I can’t find a way in.”

  Ivy looked confused herself. “It’s here, I know it is.”

  A large, angry bird landed near the girl, and she shooed it away with her foot.

  The bird hopped back and pecked at Ivy.

  Birdie rested for just a moment. “What time is it?”

  “Ten after eleven,” John said.

  The bird flew to the tip of the tower Birdie had just emerged from, and swooped down. It squawked near Ivy, pecking the ground around her feet.

  “Shoo!” the girl said.

  As it flew past her once more, Birdie realized she recognized the bird.

  “Ivy, hold still a moment.”

  The young Warrior flicked her eyes to Birdie.

  Birdie stepped toward the winged creature. “I think I know this bird.”

  She recalled a bird her granddaughter had befriended over the summer. It was a predatory bird, very large, very smart, Anastasia had told her. There was a picture in the paper of the bird after its owner had died. The old man who ran the junkyard.

  This looked like that same creature. Birdie peered at the bird, who seemed to be encouraging her to say something.

  “Liberty?” she asked. That was the name of the bird Anastasia had told her about.

  The—hawk?—shrieked, then flew back to where Ivy stood. It blinked up at the girl.

  John rushed over to where the bird was pacing. He flattened onto his stomach and put his ear to what seemed like solid stone, knocking his knuckles around.

  “Bingo.”

  John struggled with the stone, trying to shift it this way and that. “There’s a seam. I need a screwdriver, a knife, something.”

  Ivy tossed John a thick pocketknife. He flipped through at least thirty gadgets until he found the one he was looking for.

  He traced an outline into the stone with a flat blade, while Ivy tried to loosen it.

 
They had their gateway.

  John lifted the stone and shoved it aside. Ivy slipped through first. John stuck his head in the hole and said, “What do you see?”

  Birdie leaned over the opening. Ivy took in her surroundings. “A lot of old crap.”

  “That doesn’t help,” John said.

  “There’s a painting of a woman with creepy eyes and a lot of armor.”

  John said, “That’s near Stacy’s room.”

  The girl wavered a bit at the mention of Anastasia’s given name.

  Birdie rushed to say, “Ivy, remember your task. Follow the map. Stay strong, and this will work.”

  It had to.

  Ivy nodded and rushed off.

  John slipped through the hole next, and Birdie followed, with his assistance.

  “You know your way around without a map?” he asked, since Birdie had given hers to Ivy.

  She nodded.

  John called Ethan and said, “We’re in. Meet us in the Dining Hall in five minutes.”

  It was twenty minutes after eleven.

  John hurried down the hall while Birdie slipped into Anastasia’s room. She grabbed her granddaughter’s hairbrush, checked to make sure there were a few strands, pocketed it, then rushed out, smacking directly into Tallulah.

  Tallulah said, “Back so soon?”

  Birdie said, “Tabby, listen to me. I need you to take me to my daughter. It’s urgent.”

  “No.”

  “This isn’t a request!”

  Tallulah blanched, surprised by Birdie’s fortitude. “You know I can’t do that yet. We must wait for Aedon to decide her fate. Once you find the cauldron, of course.”

  “The cauldron is here, and Aedon will no longer decide anything.”

  “Because you are a Mage? Please, Birdie, I didn’t object to that little display of yours for the good of the council—”

  “Anastasia is dead!” Birdie shouted.

  Tallulah stepped back, shocked. “What?”

  Birdie moved forward, grabbed Tallulah by the shoulders, and said, “Take me to my daughter.”

  Tabby’s eyes were wide, and she glanced over her shoulder in fear.

  “No. That’s impossible. She called me not long ago.”

  It was Birdie’s turn to look shocked. “What do you mean she called you? Anastasia? When?”