The Witch and the Hellhound (The Seaforth Chronicles Book 2)

by B. J. Smash

  “Father. This morning he almost ran over a cat. I don’t think he was paying attention to the road. I’m not sure if—”

  “He should be driving anymore. Yes, I know. We went into town yesterday and when he went to park, he almost ran over old lady Morrison. She hit the car with her cane. I repeatedly apologized, but if you know anything about old lady Morrison, you’d know she loves to find fault.” She smirked and rolled her eyes, indicating that old lady Morrison was such a bother.

  Reluctantly, I sort of agreed with old lady Morrison, though. If someone almost ran me down with a car, I’d hit the car, too.

  “Anyway, I’ve spoken to Clover and my mother, and we too think we need to take the keys away. At least for now,” she said.

  I felt sorry for Father, but he was constantly in a dream world. At least it wasn’t my complaining about the cat that would get his keys taken. They had already discussed this amongst themselves.

  “It’s probably for the best.” I sighed, more so from the fact that she hadn’t caught me trying to take a peek at her diary.

  “Is there anything else I can help you with? I’ve got to get up early tomorrow, so I’ve got to read for a minute, wash my face, and get to bed.”

  “Nope, I’m all set.” I got up to leave and before I closed her bedroom door, I said, “Good night, Aunt Cora.”

  “Good night, Ivy. Pleasant dreams.” She’d already propped herself up on her bed and had a romance novel in her hands.

  “You too,” I said.

  I felt good after that. Let the magic love knot do its thing, and she’d find true love soon enough. But as I shut the door, something nagged at me, pulled at my conscience, only slightly, but it was there. Should I be messing with Aunt Cora’s fate?

  I would soon find out that the answer to that was a big negative.

  Chapter Eight

  I had slept like a baby in a bassinet filled with cotton balls. The bagpipe music had stopped shortly after I’d gotten home, and only one time did I wake up to hear what I thought were coyotes. Coyotes were the most harmless thing in the forest, and it never bothered me when they came around.

  The sun had barely begun its rise, and damp air drifted through my open window. Birds were having a heyday outside. I pulled my fluffy white comforter over my head.

  For a few minutes, I lay thinking about the future. All right, I admit that I kept pushing thoughts of Zinnia out of my brain, but if I dwelled on her, I either got sad or beyond angry. That’s why I tried to keep myself busy. The time would come, when we’d meet once again. Hard telling how it was all going to turn out.

  Nobody, except Izadora, seemed to mention Zinnia. They all probably felt the same way, but I would have to reevaluate those thoughts a few minutes later as I sat down to breakfast with my dad. He was the only one up, and I quickly made him toast with butter and jelly.

  He looked at me briefly, remembering something. “Where is Zinnia this morning?” he asked.

  Gran had just walked down the stairs in her flowered bathrobe. “John Basil, did you ever go to bed?” She called him “John Basil” because she liked the name “Basil” (it was an herb, after all), and Granddad liked the name “John.”

  Granddad had followed her down, still in his pajamas. He coughed and sneezed, as he had had a bad cold for the past few days.

  My father asked again, “Where is the other girl? Where is my Zinnia?”

  “Father, she’s, well…she’s not here right now,” I said.

  “Will she be back soon?” he asked.

  “I hope so,” was all I could say.

  “Johnny, would you like to play some chess or, er, maybe checkers?” Granddad asked.

  “I don’t like checkers,” my father stated flatly. He used to love that game.

  The sun had started to rise, the first rays shining past the plants that sat on the sill inside the bay window.

  “I have to go to training this morning,” I said, and then I finished my orange juice.

  “Izadora sure does keep you busy,” Gran scowled.

  “It’s not Izadora this morning—the elves need to teach me a few things,” I said.

  “Oh Lord, have mercy. They want you to go with them, don’t they?” Gran asked.

  I didn’t want her to worry any more than she already had been; she was always the worry wart and pessimist of the family.

  “Oh probably, but no harm will come to me. They will protect me.”

  She leaned on the kitchen island counter and shook her head at me. “You do what you have to do. But in the end, you better make it back home. I cannot stand to lose you both.”

  “She’ll be fine, Eilish,” Granddad said.

  “No worries, Gran.” I kissed her on the cheek and fluffed Granddad’s hair as I ran out of the house.

  To be strong for them all, is what I had to do. I would do whatever it took to win this “game,” as my sister had called it the last night I’d seen her. To her, this was all a game. She had no care about anyone else’s feelings, she would just as soon destroy us all. Then again, I always had it in the back of my mind that she somehow was being forced to stay with the Unseelie. Even though she had told me it was HER choice to join them, I would always have my doubts. She was a total brat, but I knew she had to love us. Somewhere deep down, she had to love us. Right?

  Chapter Nine

  When you train with a group of badass warriors, you can’t expect to come out unscathed. So far, my thigh had been bruised from a swift kick from Conri, and my arm scratched with a knife.

  Conri was a relentless opponent, even with a girl. As he swung around to knock me off-balance, his foot smacked my leg in the same spot. I cringed with pain when I fell. Drumm whizzed by, spun, and side-swept his legs right out from under him. Everyone laughed as Conri landed on his back, feet in the air. He sat up, laughing. “It seems”—he took in a deep breath or two—“my nephew has mastered the art of swiftness. All these years helping Izadora guard the forest has done you some good.”

  “I know,” Drumm said matter-of-factly.

  “And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were faster than even I am.” His thin lips turned up into a half smile. “Okay, that’s enough for today. We’ll meditate at the trees now. Heal our wounds a bit.”

  Conri sprung up without the use of his hands. “Sorry, Ivy…if I seemed a bit harsh today. In the battlefield, they hold no pity for you. Especially the Fae fighter.” He winked at me and I smiled despite the pain that shot through my leg. Perhaps he was doing me a favor by not holding out. I remembered not too long ago when a Fae fighter was about to stomp down on my head. If it hadn’t been for Izadora’s hellhounds, he might have succeeded.

  We were in the forest, away from Izadora’s tree house, almost to the white bridge that I’d crossed to witness my sister bind herself to a Fae just a short time ago.

  All of the Elven people either sat at the base of a tree or sat up in the branches leaning upon a tree. Some chose oak, some chose birch, and a few chose pines. I myself chose an apple tree. Drumm sat with me, so close that I could feel the sweat on his body touching my skin. He had worked hard this morning, and I believed he had to be one of the best fighters they had.

  I couldn’t help but imagine that if someone was walking in the forest right now, they would think we were crazy. Fourteen elves leaning upon and sitting in the trees. What a sight we must be! I had to laugh out loud.

  “Focus now, Ivy,” Drumm said.

  “As we sit beside the tree, focus on your core—the belly area,” Niall said, pointing to his stomach and looking at me, as though I didn’t know what the core was. “This…is where the ultimate strength lies. Our leg movements stem from here. Our back movements, arm movements are all supported by the core. Picture a light here. A bright white light. Lean upon the tree, and merge this light with the tree’s energy.”

  I did so and was instantly connected this time. My very breath was linked, and I could feel the energy running through my body. It felt lik
e a zinging current of flowing water. My leg felt almost numb, and the pain had lessened.

  And then, a vision. There she was. This time she didn’t have the purple scarf on. This time…she was crying. Her hair was different; she had dyed it blonde. I knew it was her, though, as her face was in plain view.

  Wiping the tears on the sleeve of her pink jacket, she climbed a tree that one of the Elven people currently sat in. She sat there leaning upon the tree, her legs hanging down, looking around, almost as if she were waiting for someone. Then the vision blurred, giving it the appearance of being fast-forwarded. The sun now hung low in the sky, and she still sat there waiting. Finally, she pulled out a piece of paper and stuck it deep into the gaping hole of the trunk, jumped down, and walked off.

  The vision ended there.

  I opened my eyes to find Drumm sitting in front of me, his legs crossed. I guess he must have finished his meditation and decided to watch me.

  “Does your leg feel any better?” He asked.

  I looked down to see there was still bruising, although it had faded some. The pain had mostly subsided, and overall…it was better.

  “Yeah, it does feel better.” More amused than surprised, I giggled. “That’s cool.”

  His beautiful smile spread across his face, and his sparkling turquoise eyes lit up.

  “Hey, do you remember the time you healed my leg using leaves?” I reminded him of when we’d first met, he had healed a nasty gash on my leg.

  “I do. I have the gift—being able to use leaves and stones to enhance healing.” He shrugged. It wasn’t a big deal to him. “C’mon. I think I saw Izadora flying around here a few minutes ago, and we’re all heading inside the tree house to see what she has to say about the upcoming battle.”

  I wanted to mention the vision I’d had, but for now, I would just keep it to myself. Later on, when no one was around, I’d be climbing that tree to see if the paper was still there.

  ***

  “I see here…many, many things. Some of it confuses me, and I am hardly ever confused,” Izadora spoke. She sat at the tree trunk table outside, with the many herbs and plants hanging on the railings. This morning the earthy, peppery smell of thyme was prominent. Occasionally, currents of mint wafted through the air.

  The Elven men all stood around, listening intently to her words. A few leaned on the railing with their arms folded across their broad, muscular chests. All had their bows, which were the length of their arms. Each had a bagful of arrows strapped over their arm and chest. I don’t think they ever parted with them.

  She held her fortune-telling tool in hand, which was a long, dark blue bottle. Peering in the bottle she said, “First I will begin by saying Ivy, I need you to go into town this morning. Wait at the café. Something is going to happen, but I cannot see it clearly. You must wait there until a fisherman shows—he has news. I need to know what he says. He looks confused, flustered, and I want to say…frightened.

  “Now, about the battle. I cannot see a great deal about it. My bottle clouds over. I have only seen one final scene, and I did not like the outcome. I will not tell you what I saw, because I don’t want to hinder ANY of you with troubled thoughts. Things can always change course. What I see now, about the outcome, there is a fifty-fifty chance for either side to win.

  “You must go, with positive light in your hearts.” She turned to look at us each individually. “You are greatly outnumbered, my friends. But do not let that deter you. You are great warriors, and I remember of a battle when your fathers and uncles were greatly outnumbered. They conquered all—and so can you.”

  “Izadora, we shall ride out in two days’ time—” Conri began to say.

  “No. You shall ride out tomorrow morning. I see more troops from the west coming in two days’ time. You must establish a foothold against those who are already there.”

  The elves shook their heads yes in agreement.

  “You will be coming along, won’t you, Izadora?” one of the younger elves said. I learned earlier during training that his name is Tomlin. He had bright blue eyes and thin lips and shoulder-length golden hair.

  Izadora let out a long sigh. “That is one of the things I don’t understand. Boy, get me my singing bowl,” she said to Drumm.

  He took off inside, and moments later he returned with a large wooden bowl. Izadora took it from him and set it on the ground. Taking a bottle from her pocket, she dropped three bluish-green drops into the bowl. She waved her hand over the bowl in a clockwise direction, muttering some words. A loud zinging noise began; it started softly, got louder, and faded. Over and over it did this. The noise hurt my ears, and I cupped them. None of the other elves did this, and you couldn’t tell by their solemn faces if it bothered them or not.

  The bowl rose up to about table level. It never ceased to amaze me, the things this old woman could do. Looking in, there was a white mist that swirled around like wind. Izadora took some rocks from her pocket. I assumed they were rune stones, but I didn’t see any script upon them. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t there—but it wasn’t visible to my eyes.

  She threw the stones in and they hung in midair, scattered in different places. She rubbed her chin and sighed deeply. “The placement of these stones upsets me. This one here is me. I do not go with you. And neither does the girl.”

  “What?!” I yelled out. “I am too going!”

  “Not yet, you aren’t.” She glared at me and then looked around at the others. “You all must go. But return for the girl on the second day. It will be then that she can retrieve the book for us.”

  “Me?” So, Izadora wasn’t going after all. This unnerved me. “And you just said they would have greater numbers in two days. That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “You must remain here for now. That is what I know,” she said sternly.

  I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes, but by gosh I wouldn’t let any of them see me cry. Instead, I pretended that I was about to cut a chicken’s head off. Immediately, the tears retracted.

  “It will be done, just as you say,” Niall said. “We will leave tomorrow morning and return for the girl in two days.”

  “So be it,” Izadora said. She hit the bowl once with her pointer finger. The noise stopped, and the bowl clanked to the floor.

  Chapter Ten

  The others left, and it was just me that sat with Izadora at the tree trunk table. She leaned her elbows on the table, rubbing her face in her hands. She was distressed about something, but almost immediately she sat up straight and pulled herself together, and now you couldn’t tell what she was thinking; her face was sturdy and emotionless.

  “After you go into town, I need you to do me one more favor,” she said. “I need you to head over to Belfast, to the Renaissance Festival. There you will find a man named Egbert Winemaker. You will find him, even if it takes you all day.” She raised her brows as if to accentuate the last point. “Tell him Izadora sent you, and then tell him that you want a pixie.”

  “A pixie?” I asked. It had to be code for something else. “A real pixie?”

  “That is what I said. Don’t make me repeat things twice.”

  “But I can’t go alone—I’ll look weird.”

  “Drumm can’t go. He’s got last-minute preparations to make. Ask one of your aunts to take you. But do it, and get it done. It is of great importance for you to get me a pixie. And if Egbert doesn’t oblige, remind him who fixed his leg.” She snickered.

  “All right, all right. I’ll go.”

  “Oh, and one last thing…” She got up, using her staff to help her stand, and hobbled over to a thyme plant. She then cut three sprigs of thyme and a sprig of vervain and wound them up together in a braid, and spoke to it. Then she said to me, “Wear this above your right ear. Do not forget to wear it.”

  “Fine. Whatever.” I took the herbs and tucked them away in my sweatshirt for now.

  “Be here by nightfall,” she said, “to tell Drumm that you will miss him.”

>   At that, tears sprung back into my eyes.

  I walked across the bridge and down the stairs. Watching Drumm play with the dogs made me incredibly sad. He wouldn’t be here much longer to play with them, and he had to leave me behind for the time being. That was another thing that I just couldn’t get over. Why did Izadora have to be so pigheaded? Why couldn’t I go with them tomorrow morning? And what if something happened to Drumm? I would just die.

  He waved at me, and I waved back. I wanted to blow him a kiss, but he would think that it was corny and I was insane. He ran over to me, causing my heart to flutter.

  “Where are you going?” he asked. “To the Renaissance Festival?”

  “How’d you know?”

  “Oh, Izadora told me earlier. I’d love to go, but you know I can’t,” he said, disappointment filling his eyes. Then he lifted the dark green cape from his shoulders and placed it on mine. It was warm but light. “Wear this. Then people might think you’re just dressing up as an Elven.” He winked at me and briefly touched my hair.

  “Ha, funny. I suppose if they see my ears, it won’t matter either. They’ll think they are fake.”

  “True.” He smiled. “Maybe Ian’s nephew can go with you. You shouldn’t go alone.”

  I know that this was hard for him to suggest.

  “Maybe.” I frowned.

  “You better get going—I’ll be here when you get back.” He walked backward for a few steps then returned to the group.

  I ran through the fresh-smelling forest until I reached Ian’s garden. Lo and behold, there she was, sitting at the fountain again. Silvie. This time, she had invisible company. Her head lay toppled over, as though it were laying on a shoulder, and her hand hovered in the air, like it were on someone’s knee and being held tightly.

  I probably don’t need to mention it again, but the hair on my arms stood up straight, and a chill ran through my entire body. It was ever present whenever Silvie was around.