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

by B. J. Smash

  And so it was. They all scrambled around me, running ahead and then back around me, while I walked home. I had to be the most protected girl in the world—for now.

  ***

  Surprisingly, Gran, Grandpa, and my father were still awake, sitting around the table. My father looked up when I walked in, and Gran hurried to the stove to make me some tea. I could tell by their sour faces that they were already worried about Aunt Cora, and here I was about to leave.

  “We’ve been waiting for you, dear. Your grandmother made you some cookies,” Grandpa said, trying to sound cheery. They knew I didn’t eat cookies much anymore, but the gesture was thoughtful.

  “Here you go, dear.” Gran set a plate of cookies and some hot tea on the table before me. She seemed sad. They all did. It broke my heart to see them this way.

  “You’ll be fine. We know that. Ian’s going with you,” Grandpa said as he swiped his eye with the back of his hand. “We heard about Izadora from Ian. But we’re not worried,” Grandpa lied.

  My father hadn’t said anything. I couldn’t help but notice his once dark hair was now almost all gray, and creases had formed along his brow.

  He was dying.

  My father was going to die if I didn’t get the book back. If I did not complete this mission, I would lose him.

  Forcing my eyes to stay dry, I took a sip of tea, letting the heat dry any tears.

  The front door opened and shut. In walked my Aunt Clover. She held a brown paper bag full of something. It had to be almost four in the morning. She was up bright and early.

  “Hi, Ivy. Here are some muffins for the road.” She handed me the bag and leaned down to give me a quick hug.

  “Thank you, Aunt Clover.” Normally, I trusted my aunt and I adored her. But these muffins were going in Ian’s trash can. I couldn’t take any chances. Not when magic could be involved. After all, Aunt Cora would have never done what she did if I hadn’t put the damn red-knotted love rope in her pillowcase. Who is to say Aunt Clover wasn’t being influenced by someone or something? No. I would take no chances. Besides, Izadora had given me some dried jackfruit chips. Apparently those would keep my hunger at bay.

  We talked small talk for the next twenty minutes. I tried to act content and happy. However, I couldn’t wait to get a move on, and get this mission underway.

  At one point, I noticed that Aunt Cora’s thirty-seven roses still sat in a vase by the refrigerator. A tag that I hadn’t seen before stuck out between two roses. Getting up, I attempted to be tactful as I walked over and plucked the tag out. Who could these be from? Had Rodinand sent Aunt Cora flowers somehow?

  I believe all eyes were on me as I opened the card. I didn’t care.

  “‘To: Cora. You’re in my thoughts.’”

  It was signed, “From Ian.”

  “Ian?” I gasped. “What’s he sending Aunt Cora flowers for?” I scanned the room, as no one offered me an explanation. Perhaps I was being nosy. At this point, I couldn’t afford to care if I was being nosy or not.

  “Well?” I asked.

  “Oh, Ian and Cora have always been good friends,” was the only answer I got from Gran.

  That was news to me. I thought he was mad at her for killing his sister—although she hadn’t been the one to do it, and I would attest to that later.

  I couldn’t pursue it, as there was a knock at the front door. Aunt Clover scurried to the foyer and answered with an extra cheery, “Good morning, Lucian! Come in, come in!”

  They appeared around the corner. Lucian had on jeans and a red hoodie. “Who are you? Little Red Riding Hood?” I joked.

  He smirked. “No. The big, bad hellhound.”

  I suppose that was our small attempt at banter this morning.

  “You ready? Everyone is gearing up to go,” he said.

  Before I could answer, the sound of bagpipes drifted in the air.

  “Yup. They are playing the pipes this morning,” he said, rubbing his temples. “They wanted me to play the drums, but I had to come for you.” He smiled.

  I hauled in a long breath. “It’s now or never.” I went to tuck the card back in the flowers, and when I pulled my hand away, Izadora’s ring caught on a flower. As I pulled my hand down, the whole thing crashed to the floor. Flowers and all. The vase broke, and flowers and water spewed everywhere.

  “How did that happen?” I glanced at Izadora’s signet ring; although the gold prongs were big and solid, it never should have caught on a flower.

  “Bad omen,” my father said.

  Gran went for the broom, and Aunt Clover scurried about, picking the flowers up. I bent down to help. That was when I noticed it in the dim light. It was quite small, the size of a dime. I had never noticed the faint marking on my aunt’s inner ankle before. Yet, I’d never been this close to her feet. Below the inner right ankle, almost on the foot, was tattooed the symbol of water. The upside-down triangle. Magella’s handiwork, no doubt.

  I froze where I stooped.

  “Oh,” Aunt Clover said.

  She’d seen me staring, and walked off to retrieve a new vase.

  Standing, I laid some flowers on the counter. So, it was true. Aunt Clover had had something to do with Magella. She’d given me this long speech once about how people of the town were frightened of Magella and Izaill. That they never had anything to do with them. And it had all been a cover-up. She’d had plenty to do with them, so it seems.

  Gran returned and said, “Don’t worry about it, Ivy. I’ll take care of it. You better go.”

  “We’ll walk you out,” Grandpa said, putting his arm through mine.

  Outside, they all stood in a line watching me with sadness in their eyes. The sun was barely above the horizon, beautiful shades of dark pink and orange filled the sky. The altocumulus clouds looked like pulled-apart cotton balls.

  The skirl of bagpipes drifted down to us, causing me to stand straight. They played a slow tune, an old battle song.

  “Ah, my favorite.” Grandpa perked up.

  I went down the line, hugging each one of them. When I came to Aunt Clover, she whispered, “It’s not what you think,” and then, “You take care, my favorite niece.”

  When I reached my father, I buried my face in his coat. The floodgate was then opened, and tears sprung from my eyes. One of the worst feelings in the world is hugging someone you love, knowing that it could very well be the last time. That was life, and I knew that. But I hated it. The ones you love hold all the meaning in the world. The reason why you exist, the reason you live.

  Would I ever see him again? Would I be able to accomplish this task? So much was riding on my shoulders.

  My answer: Yes. I would do it no matter what it took. Failure was a word I refused to be familiar with. I would be strong. I was strong. I was no wimp. That book would be mine. We would undo the spell, and we would get the vials of spring water from the land of the Elven, and we would fix this disaster. I would bring the much-needed spring water back to Father, and he would once again be the happy man I once knew. Determination welled up in me like a bonfire.

  We, the McCallister’s, the Elven, and I, could do this. And with those last thoughts, I gave my father a big squeeze, patted him on the back, and pulled away.

  “See you soon, Father.” I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my Elven robe. “I WILL be back.”

  His frown turned up at the corners, and he said, “Godspeed, Ivy. Godspeed.”

  It was an old term, but I knew what he meant. He was wishing me well on my journey, and I accepted it with all my heart.

  “Bring your sister home to us,” my father added.

  That might prove to be an impossible task. I nodded once and turned to depart. They say never look back. But I did. I took one long last look at my grandparents, my father, and Aunt Clover. They all waved; I waved back.

  I would return.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  As we neared Ian’s, along with the bagpipes, gunshots that sounded like a cannon could be heard splitt
ing the sky.

  “They go all out,” Lucian confided in me. “Nothing like a good battle waiting ahead of them.”

  I had to laugh. My spirits were rising.

  Overhead, a sporty helicopter thundered by and floated above the McCallister house, circled, hung above the front courtyard, causing blustery winds, and then landed. Something was painted on the sides. I couldn’t tell what it was until we reached the courtyard.

  The helicopter cut its engine and the blades slowly came to a halt, causing the wind to slowly stop. I could only see one side of the copter. The McCallister coat of arms had been painted on there. Silver and blue.

  “Cool,” I said to Lucian.

  Mrs. Pumbleton hopped out of the helicopter.

  “Mrs. Pumbleton? She’s the pilot?” She had always been the prim and proper maid, an older woman who looked after Ian, cleaned the mansion, and cooked him all of his favorite foods.

  Lucian laughed. “Yup. She’s the pilot. Ian and Hugh can fly it as well.”

  “I see,” I said. It must be nice to be wealthy enough to have those kinds of toys.

  Mrs. Pumbleton took her long black coat off and exposed a shoulder holster holding a Glock. Mrs. Pumbleton didn’t mess around.

  “Nice,” I said, admiring the older woman’s spirit.

  Trent and Alexander loaded a few black bags into the helicopter.

  “Time to go,” Adam, Lucian’s father, said. I’d never seen him in human form. He definitely looked like a highland warrior, standing around six feet, his muscles bursting out everywhere, with a strong neck and jaw.

  He walked over to me. “We haven’t properly met yet. Nice to meet you, Ivy.” He shook my extended hand. His handshake was firm and confident. When we stopped shaking hands, I wanted to massage the pain away, but I couldn’t let him think of me as a softy.

  “We’ll make our way to Maximus Bay. From there we need to figure out a way across. The helicopter will not be able to pass into the land of the Elven. We must go by boat.” He wheeled to the helicopter. “We have not figured it out yet, but I know of someone that may help us out. He’s the best of the best.”

  I snickered sarcastically, as I just figured out why Izadora had told me to call forth Magella with her signet ring. The piece had finally fit in the puzzle. “I think I know how.” I showed him the ring as everyone looked on, and said, “Izadora told me to touch the stone to the water and call forth Magella.” I paused for dramatic effect. “Magella is our ride.”

  They all had some comment about this, including a few swears that I will refrain from mentioning. In the end, Ian said, “Wow. If she’s our ride across, so be it.”

  “Stop on the coast of Merribay and inform her. If you have any problems, Lucian can handle her.” Ian winked. “But I believe that considering where we are going and why, she won’t bother you in the least way.”

  Just then, Silvie appeared out of nowhere.

  “Sister!” Alexander called out.

  “What’s up, Silvie?” Trent high-fived her. Her pale lips went up into a smile as she stood on a path between two shrubs.

  I hadn’t seen Silvie since the vision the tree showed me. She still freaked me out like nothing else could. However, I was seeing her in a new light.

  “We’re on our way out now, Silvie,” Ian said as he tossed something in the helicopter. “You hold down the homestead for us. Have no mercy on trespassers.”

  She giggled her famous creepy giggle. I had no doubt she could take care of the place. No doubt at all.

  They prepared to embark on the helicopter, with Trent handing out flasks. “This is for later. After the victory win.”

  Each brother took a flask decorated with the McCallister plaid. When Ian accepted his, he said, “What’s in here?”

  Alexander replied, “He put your thirty-year in there.”

  Ian flopped his head around in disbelief. “You put my thirty-year scotch in this flask? Do you know how much that bottle set me back?”

  “Don’t know. Don’t care,” Trent replied.

  “It is like living with monkeys!” Ian fumed. “Monkeys, I say!”

  The wheelchair lift grinded as Ian was lifted to the front seat of the helicopter. He swung himself in, adjusted his legs using his hands, and buckled up. Hugh and Adam climbed in the back, followed by Trent and Alexander.

  “GET your FOOT off my FOOT!” Alexander yelled at Trent.

  “If they weren’t the size of a toolbox, we wouldn’t be having this problem!” Trent yelled back.

  “Now, now, boys—shut your pie holes. This will be a long trip, and no one wants to listen to you two girly girls bicker.” Ian chastised them.

  “He’s the one who stepped on my bloody toe,” Alexander said, jabbing Trent in the ribs with his elbow.

  “Hey!” Trent responded, hitting him in the knee with his fist.

  Adam shook his head. “This is going to be a long damn ride.”

  Hugh just gazed out the window; he had probably already gone to his happy place.

  Mrs. Pumbleton hopped in the helicopter, looked in a mirror, pointed at the two behind her, and said firmly, “You two pipe it down.” Both of them harrumphed, settled in, and looked straight ahead. I had learned that Mrs. Pumbleton had been like a mother to them all over the years. It was no different now.

  She was about to start up the helicopter when I thought of something. “Hey, Ian! I don’t know the way to the land of the Elven. You were going to give me a map or something.”

  He snorted. “You don’t need a map, Miss Seaforth. Just tell your horse to take you to the land of the Elven. That’s all you need to do.” He waved. “He’ll take you the proper way.”

  Lucian and I stepped back out of the way, close to Silvie—too close for my comfort—while Mrs. Pumbleton started the engine. The blades began to whip by. Fwomp, fwomp, fwomp. And the wind picked up fast, my hair flew everywhere, dirt got in my eyes, and the tree limbs bent in from the force of the wind.

  We waved as the helicopter lifted up, flew forward, and then spun around to head back over the house toward the east. As they were going by, Lucian pointed up to the helicopter. “He had that painted on yesterday.”

  My breath was taken away when I realized what he was pointing at. On the other side of the helicopter, Ian had had someone paint the Seaforth coat of arms.

  Pride swelled up inside me like a volcano. Suddenly feeling on top of the world, I said, “We can do this.”

  “Damn right we can,” Lucian said. “Let’s get on with it.”

  Silvie up and disappeared, her laugh still lingering in her absence, echoing in the air.

  Lucian looped his arm through mine, and we took off to find Solstice. We didn’t have to go far. Just outside of the sunroom stood Silvie holding Solstice’s reins with one hand. With the other hand she brushed his mane. Her eyes watched him adoringly, as her chin-length brown curls fell into her face.

  “Thank you, Silvie,” I said.

  She handed me the reins and stepped back and grabbed my arm. Her grip felt like someone had just sprayed compressed gas on my arm. Her touch was so cold it almost burned, but I forced myself to stand tall. She nodded her head at me, and I knew she was wishing me luck and bidding me farewell. Smiling, she released me, walked (although it appeared more like she was floating) to Lucian, and grabbed his arm. His eyes flew open wide from the touch, and he said, “See you soon, auntie.”

  She stood back and watched while I jumped up on Solstice as though I had used a trampoline to aid me. Lucian trotted over to the bench and stood upon it. “I still need a booster. My legs aren’t as strong as yours.” He rubbed his neck. “I never thought I’d say that to a girl.”

  After he was on, Silvie waved goodbye, and we sped through the garden. At the gate, she was there, and we didn’t even have to slow down. If we could only travel like Silvie, things would be much easier than what lay ahead of us.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  We didn’t stop until we reached the wood line o
f Merribay. From there we made our way down to the ocean. Solstice stood on the cliffs, observing us. The cool, brisk air smelled briny, and the morning sunrays shimmered atop the water and surf. The vast ocean that lay before me was glorious, a set of rays appearing like heaven itself shone down upon it. I wish that we had time to swim in its depths; this ocean always called to me. I think it had something to do with its occupants, the merpeople. They had a way of enticing people.

  My thoughts turned to Drumm. I remembered the few times we had visited the ocean, the sun shining on his angelic face, his turquoise eyes sparkling like jewels.

  My feet sunk into the cool, wet sand, making them feel like they were being cleaned by a loofah.

  Closing my eyes and pulling fresh air into my lungs, I focused on the task at hand. I called up my courage. This had to be one of the craziest things I’d ever been asked to do, and there had been some pretty outrageous requests from Izadora in the past.

  Letting the air out, and opening my eyes at the same time, I walked forward into the lapping waves; white foam clung to my legs. Knee deep, I paused and looked at the ring on my right ring finger. The amethyst seemed to glow, it knew what was about to happen.

  Bending down, I felt my long, golden hair fall about my face. “I’m about to do it, Lucian,” I said over my shoulder in warning.

  “I know. I don’t like it, either.” He puffed out air. “Just get it done.”

  My fist went forward on its own accord; my brain never gave it the signal to do so. Surprisingly enough, I didn’t falter and my hand did not shake. The ocean floor stared back up at me, with many colorful shells in the sand. My heart beat quickly as I gently placed the tip of the ring to the water.

  Almost instantly, a ripple expanded, getting larger and spreading out to sea.

  I lifted my head and looked toward the horizon. Immediately, dark gray clouds formed and, like falling dominoes, quickly made their way toward us. Fog formed as well, drifting in and circling us. The sun could no longer be seen behind the heavy clouds, and light raindrops fell from the sky.