by B. J. Smash
“I got it,” I said, walking back into the kitchen, placing the cage on the table.
“Took you long enough.” She opened the door and tossed the pixie in, shutting it quickly to avoid any escape.
“Egbert said her name is Pladia.” I had forgotten to mention it before.
“I know. She told me. Five times,” Izadora said.
Pladia hovered for a moment and grabbed ahold of the bars and shook. The cage wobbled a bit, but she’d never be able to tip it.
“I don’t LIKE cage,” a tiny voice said. “I won’t go anywhere—LET ME OUT.”
Her voice amused me, but I did not dare to laugh.
“Oh hush. I’ll give you some chocolate in due time. And when I’m done with you, I’ll entertain the idea of setting you free. As long as you behave,” Izadora said.
Pladia flew around, zipping from one side to the other, top to bottom, casting silver dust in her wake. She paused to say, “And some peanut butter. Hmmmphhhh.” She finally settled on a pink perch swing in the center, swinging her legs, flinging back and forth. She reminded me of a young child.
Again, I held my laughter.
Thunder rumbled in the sky, and lightning hit close to the tree.
“She sent a storm, to try and free Izaill. As if I wouldn’t already think of that—he’s been warned, and too bad for her,” Izadora said.
“Who?” Lucian asked, stepping close to the window to peer out.
“Magella,” I said.
Several more strikes of lightning struck near the tree house, lighting up the sky. Unexpectedly, Drumm sauntered in through the front door, his brown shirt soaking wet and water dripping from his hair. His eyes landed on Lucian, and his already drab face frowned further.
He looked to me and said, “We must leave on this eve.”
“That’s a little soon…but it’s up to you elves,” Izadora said.
“Conri spotted a group of Unseelie, and we believe they are heading toward the land of the Elven. We want to catch up to them, before they arrive to greet the others.”
I don’t think I could have felt worse than I did now. My whole body ached with sadness, and my heart felt like a weight in my chest. Even though he’d be back for me in two days, it was hard to see him go on without me. For some reason, a foreboding dread filled me. I didn’t like it at all.
“Ivy, I’d like to have a word with you before I leave.” He forced a half grin.
“Okay.” I walked past Lucian and followed Drumm out the door. The rain had suddenly subsided. It would seem that Magella had finally given up on the storm. We went down past the dogs and stood beneath a tree.
I buried my face in his wet shirt. Even though I tried like heck to hold back, tears streamed from my eyes. He probably wouldn’t be able to tell, since his shirt was soaking wet anyway.
“There, now…” He could tell. He patted my back and continued. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be back for you in two days.”
“Oh, I know. I’m fine.” I stood back, but not before I wiped my eyes with my left hand.
Before we could talk further, the elves were by the tree. “We must move now, Drumm,” Niall said. “The old witch wishes to say something to you first.”
At the top of the stairs, Izadora stood with a lantern in her hands, with Lucian beside her. “Come up. Get your robe. I’ve finished sewing the protection symbol.”
We both ran up the stairs. To my amazement, Izadora, the master of masking her feelings, had a sorrowful expression upon her face. “It was nice having you here, boy. I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else. You’ve been like a son to me.” I could have sworn I saw a tear in her eye. Just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. “You take care of yourself now.” She leaned forward and gave him a quick hug. “I’ll help you as much as I can from here. Now…you better go.”
Drumm crinkled his eyes, confused, but nodded his head once. “It’s been my pleasure.”
What had Izdora seen in the singing bowl full of stones? What doomsday prediction did she see in her blue bottle that she did not want to share with anyone? Her speech to Drumm just now made me want to scream. Was it him? Was it him that she saw in the blue bottle?
He put his robe over his shoulders, and I grabbed his hand and squeezed.
“I thought this was your robe?” I asked, pointing to the one I wore.
“Nah, it’s yours now. You keep it. Uncle had a spare. I can wear this one.” This robe that he had now had silver scrolled stitching down the edges, looking like a robe from a royal army. Peering around, from what I could see, all the elves had similar robes.
It was hard to swallow over the knot in my throat.
“It’s not like he’s leaving forever, Ivy,” Lucian said.
Drumm, who had to be the most patient person I knew, turned and said one thing to Lucian. “If anything happens to Ivy while I am away, I will hunt you down and break your neck.” The tension between the two was evident.
Lucian held his gaze, and after swallowing, he replied, “Nothing is going to happen to Ivy, Drumm. Not on my watch.”
Drumm hauled me in for a big hug, inhaling the scent of my hair. He kissed me on the forehead and turned, holding his head high, walking down the stairs. He only looked back once—to blow me a kiss. I had to laugh.
Then he was off with his uncles, Milo and Hansgard the hellhounds, right behind them.
I ran to the bottom of the stairs to watch them go. Two of the Elven had brought back a horse for everyone, and as they thundered off, the ground shook below my feet. I remembered that you cannot get to the land of the Elven without having horses. I still didn’t know why. Although soon enough, I would find out for myself.
***
Ian’s dooryard was highly lit up with brilliant light from the many lampposts.
GG Edmund stood outside, prepared to get into the big black car that would take him and Old Sam McCallister to the airport. Ian stood with his crutches beneath his arms, next to the car. Lucian, Alexander, Trent, and Hugh all hovered around. Still no sign of the oldest brother, Adam. He must really be sick.
Old Sam McCallister already sat in the backseat, dressed in an expensive black suit. He waved. “Good evening, dear. How are you?”
Leaning on the car door, I said, “Hi, Mr. McCallister. I’m good.” That was a damn lie, but I would be strong.
“Good to hear.” He nodded his almost bald head at me. He had very few white hairs left on the sides and back of his head. You could tell that back in the day he’d been a handsome man, even though he had many lines on his forehead and face now.
“I shan’t be stealing him away for long. It is necessary to call on someone in Scotland, and then our return will be prompt.” He smiled, hauled out a pipe from his breast pocket, and popped the end in his mouth.
GG Edmund walked over to me. “Something wrong, Ivy?”
“She misses Drumm already,” Lucian volunteered.
I didn’t even have the energy to glare at him.
“He’ll be fine, my dear,” GG Edmund said as the driver tossed his suitcase in the trunk and then opened the back door for grandfather.
“I could have opened it myself—all this fuss,” GG Edmund said as he made his way into the backseat adjacent to Old Sam.
“Hop in, we’ll drop you off,” Old Sam said.
“Oh, thank you.” The offer was nice. I didn’t want to hang around Lucian—or anyone else, for that matter. My bed was calling me.
They dropped me off at Gran’s. I stood there waving as they left the driveway.
I felt alone and empty inside. And with a deep-pit feeling forming in my stomach, somehow I knew this was only the beginning.
Chapter Thirteen
I woke up the next morning, a stack of used tissues by my head.
The sun was barely coming up, and the first flicker of yellow rays hit the glass of water on my nightstand. As I lay there, I knew exactly what needed to be done today. I had to get the old woman to talk, and I would do it, too. I didn’t ca
re how mad she got. I was going to pester her until she told me what she saw in her blue bottle. It had plagued me all night that something horrible would happen to Drumm. The least she could do was alleviate any worries.
Sleeping in a wet sundress caked with mud hadn’t been the best thing for me to do last night. My bed was filled with dirt and my floor was worse, but I didn’t have time to change my sheets or sweep the floor. Besides, as soon as Aunt Cora saw it, she’d be cleaning it up. She couldn’t stand mud, unless it was a face mask.
My appearance in the bathroom mirror this morning was hideous. My hair flew out every which way, and I literally had a knot on the right side. My nose was red, and my eyes were swollen from crying. What a mess! If Zinnia could see me now, she’d have endless fun mocking my appearance.
Zinnia. I missed her, but if anything happened to Drumm because of her…she would never even know what hit her.
Showering and dressing took me just a few minutes. Combing out my hair, even after conditioning, took twice as long. Finally, I was on my way.
The smell of cake wafted up the stairs. That could only mean one thing: Aunt Cora.
Gran and Granddad were still in bed, and Father sat in the living area, staring out the window.
“Good morning, Father,” I said.
He looked around to see me standing by his chair. “Nothing good about today.” Then he reached his hand up to squeeze mine, and making eye contact he said, “You be careful, Ivy.” He sounded lucid this morning. “I can’t help you, like I wish I could. You be brave, my child. Be brave and everything will turn out for the best.”
“Father?” I couldn’t understand why he would say this to me. “What are you talking about?”
But before he could answer me, he dropped my hand, and his gaze was back out the window.
I covered his lap with a small brown blanket, as it was cool this morning. Kissing him on the head, I left.
It was no surprise to find Aunt Cora baking cakes in the kitchen. She had two cooling on racks on the counter. One was decorated like a wedding cake, the other a single layer cake had candy and decorations to the max. The sides and corners of the wedding cake were embellished with fancy frosting twirls and flowers. I noticed a third cake, it was small and circular with white frosting, a simple pink flower in the center, and little frosted flowers for the edging.
What did surprise me was that a bouquet of flowers had been delivered at some point between last night and this morning. A big vase of stunning, ruby-red roses with the perfect amount of baby’s breath sat on the kitchen table.
“Where did these come from?” I asked my aunt. She was dressed in a blue shimmering gown that went just above her knees. She still wore a bathrobe though, as it was pretty cool this morning. Again, she had on spiky heels. To be honest, I never in a million years thought my aunt would own shoes like this. They were pretty shoes, but she was a hypochondriac, and oftentimes she thought she had a hangnail even when she didn’t. It was a weird thing to be a hypochondriac about—but it was one of the things she liked to complain of.
I counted thirty-seven roses as Aunt Cora began a short speech. “Oh, it doesn’t matter who sent them. Don’t just let ANY boy woo you off your feet. Do you understand me, Ivy? You might think he’s the right one, but he probably isn’t. Just wait and see who sticks around when times get tough. Then you’ll see.”
She hadn’t been drinking her wine, but she sure sounded like she had.
“Now, this is for Izadora.” She pointed to the small round cake. “I just want her to know how much we appreciate all that she’s done for this family.” The corner of her mouth went up, and her eyes twinkled. The way she was acting seemed a little off this morning. I knew it must have had something to do with the red-knotted love rope, but I didn’t have time to find out.
“Okay. I’ll take it to her.”
“Good, let me box it up.” She proceeded to put the cake into a plain white box that she’d probably gotten from the café.
“Make sure she tries it while it’s nice and fresh. The center is elderberry, her favorite,” Aunt Cora said.
That statement hit a nerve. It was true that elderberry was Izadora’s favorite. I’d heard Drumm say so before. But how did my aunt know this?
“Aunt Cora, how did you know that elderberry is Izadora’s favorite?” My brows furrowed.
“Huh? Oh. I heard it from somewhere. Can’t remember who said it.” She smiled and clasped her hands in front of her.
“Whatever. I’m headed out now.” I picked up the cake and took one last look at her standing there in her bathrobe, a gown underneath. And one last look at the spiky heels. “I’ll be back soon, Aunt Cora, and maybe we should have a talk.” Putting the red-knotted love rope in her pillow apparently hadn’t been the best idea I’d ever had. I was going to have to come clean.
“Bye now.” She waved her little fingers as I shut the door behind me.
Wow. She was off her rocker.
I had to use the code for the gate this morning. Everyone was probably still in bed. That would be a good thing; I didn’t feel like having a tagalong this morning.
All the plants that lined the drive were dripping with water droplets. I walked briskly to the door which was unlocked. Not even Mrs. Pumbleton was awake yet. Scurrying out the sunroom French doors, I arrived at the head of the garden. The morning light was brilliant, causing the place to look like the gateway to heaven. I had to keep my eyes focused on the ground to avoid the shine in my eyes.
Stepping into the garden, it was also much warmer. I wasn’t stupid—and it hadn’t taken me long to realize there was something special about Ian’s gardens. It rarely rained inside these walls, and when it did, the sun was still out. Even yesterday it had rained, but here the full force of the storm only hit us beyond the walls of this garden.
Opening the back gate, the ground was muddy, and right away, I noticed paw prints in the mud. Several paw prints. They were much larger than that of coyotes. They were almost the size of my hand. Milo and Hansgard must have been over this way.
I cast the thoughts aside and prepared myself mentally to argue with Izadora. She was an ornery old woman, but I had to get her to talk. Little did I know at the time that I’d get more answers than I ever wanted.
She sat by her fireplace, reading something in a book. Setting the cake on the table, I stepped into her living room.
“Morning,” she said.
“Good morning,” I replied, even though I remembered that my father had said, “Nothing good about today.”
Before I could bring up the blue bottle and what she had seen in it, she sideswiped me by saying, “I saw a vision of your Aunt Cora in the bottle. She was writing in a journal and she had a smile on her face. Tell me, did you ever give her that love knot that Aggie gave you?”
I remembered the journal I’d seen under Aunt Cora’s pillow. “Uh…I tried to give it to her, but she refused it and threw it in the garbage. So, I—” And I was going to tell her that I pulled it back out of the garbage and put it into her pillowcase, but she interrupted me.
“Good. Good. Mother’s spells can be quite powerful. It’s probably a good thing she refused it, although you should have taken it back out of the garbage and buried it in the earth.” She fumbled with some pages in her book and then said, “It’s never good to meddle in people’s affairs—if you don’t have to.”
I planned on telling her right then of what I had done, but I held my tongue as she continued to talk.
“There is something weird in the air this morning. I don’t like it,” she said.
She turned and looked toward the doorway as if she could hear something. Moments later, a thump, thump, thump could be heard on the bridge.
“Someone is coming,” I said.
“Lucian,” Izadora declared.
A knock sounded at the door, and I walked over and pulled it open. His dark brown hair and handsome smile greeted me. He wore a T-shirt, jeans, and flip flops, and his feet we
re quite muddy.
“Come in,” I told him. I had wanted to talk to Izadora in private, and so it was hard to wipe the sourpuss expression from my face.
“Thought I’d stop in. I was out for a run,” he said. “I had a feeling you’d be here.”
A run? He had flip flops on.
“I have tea—would you care for some?” Izadora stood at the stove; she had already poured three cups.
“Sure,” he said, not daring to say no.
Izadora kept talking about my aunt. She didn’t care if Lucian heard.
“And so, there is something about your aunt that bothers me,” she said.
“Oh yeah, yesterday Clover just about flipped when the purple scarf wouldn’t burn!” Lucian piped in. He had no idea that we were talking about Aunt Cora.
“What is he speaking of?” Izadora cocked her head to glare at me.
“That’s one of the things I wanted to discuss with you this morning,” I began. “Yesterday, Aunt Clover tried to burn that purple scarf you gave me when we first met. She doused it with kerosene and tossed a match on it. It never burned. Not even a tiny bit.”
“And she freaked. She was outta there. Ran down a garden gnome and everything,” Lucian volunteered.
“I see,” she said. “Sit.”
I grabbed the teacups, and we all sat at the kitchen table. Izadora took a long sip and placed the cup back in the saucer.
At this point, I didn’t care if Lucian was there, either. I said, “You know, I saw a symbol sewn into the scarf—sort of like the one you sewed into Drumm’s robe. I’m not stupid. I know that is why it didn’t burn. But here is a bit of information I think you should know.” By this time, I was working up steam, my face growing red. “I had another vision—or a memory from a tree I aligned my spine to. Just yesterday morning. And guess what? I saw my Aunt Clover again, prancing through the forest.” I paused. I didn’t want to let anyone know about the letter I’d seen Aunt Clover stuffing into the hole in the tree. I would hold on to that piece of information for myself and see if it was still there later on.