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

by B. J. Smash

  “Wow.” That had to be one of the most fascinating legends I’d ever heard. A magical island that no one could see but one day every seven years! Controlled by a great wizard! And we were almost there. On the island!

  My life with Izadora had been a whirlwind of magical events and a great reality check on what really is REAL in this world. Yet the second we hit the fog that hid Hy Brasil, I felt drawn, almost like I belonged here. Almost as if I were coming home.

  “He’s also good friends with Izadora. They go way back. Although, I hear they have different methods of using magic.”

  The mist lessened, and a rocky shore became visible. Solstice hit the ground running like a derailed train, plunging his huge hooves into the sand and kicking it up to our legs. Crunching the rocks below his feet, he slowed his pace. The air was nippy, and the forest line that ran alongside us was nothing short of wild. My eyes adjusted to the darkness, and I couldn’t be happier for my Elven sight than I was at this time.

  Lucian, being a shape-shifting hellhound, apparently had better night vision than me. “This place is ominous. Some of the trees look like bent-over old men.”

  Solstice rounded a corner and took off up a craggy hill. The narrow path leaned in on us, with wet leaves and branches swatting our faces. Pladia landed on my chest, as a branch knocked her for a loop.

  She made her way to my shoulder and settled in next to my ear. Lovely.

  “This place creepy. I stay by you.”

  “Okay, that’s fine, but shhhhh. You can’t talk.”

  “Oh fine. Tell a pixie to be quiet. I see how you are.”

  “Shhhhh,” both Lucian and I said.

  The hill steepened, but Solstice persevered. We went up, up, up, making many turns around the winding path. I bent low to avoid any more branches, and so did Lucian. I didn’t necessarily like him hugging onto me so close, but it was either that or he’d soon be hitting the ground.

  The forest was dense and foreboding. To make matters worse as we were trotting by the trees, I could have sworn I saw a few sets of green eyes a few feet from the ground. A short while later we came out into a clearing. What lay before us was a simple white house with a thatched roof and a huge chimney. Thick smoke escaped the chimney, and it smelled like stew.

  In the open yard sat a familiar sight: the McCallister helicopter.

  “Phew. They are here,” I said, feeling relieved that I wouldn’t have to meet the wizard without Ian. With his responsibilities of taking care of the island, I pictured him as an old grump.

  But I would soon find out why traveling to the land of the Elven took three days. And it wasn’t because of the traveling.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  We dismounted the horse and were greeted by a rather large black pig. He had to be a good seventy-five pounds. He came up to us grunting and snorting, shuffling around our feet, smelling.

  The front door slammed open, shedding bright light upon our lush green path. A man between fifty to fifty-five years old strode out of the house.

  “They’re here!” I heard someone from inside call out. It might have been Ian.

  “Lassie! Take a load from your feet, get in the house. My brother, Minimus, can tend to the horse.” Behind him followed a middle-aged man. The man was frail and skinny, and he had blond hair cut short like a little boy. In fact, his boyish features reminded me of that of a young boy. He waved.

  “Minimus here. I’ll take the horse to the barn.” He crinkled his button-like nose and then smiled. He had a prominent cleft in his chin. And what surprised me most was he wore men’s dress slacks, a white shirt, and blue suspenders.

  The barn sat to the left, back off by the thick, dark woods. The roof tilted a tad to the right, but I was sure it had to be sturdy. The guy was a wizard, after all.

  Minimus spotted Pladia sitting on my shoulder and said, “And some goat milk for the pixie.”

  “Fresh goat milk!” Pladia flew up and off toward the barn, leaving silver dust and Minimus in her wake.

  Getting a closer look at the wizard himself totally caught me off guard. He didn’t wear the regular robe attire that one would expect of a great wizard. Nope. This guy was different.

  “My name is Maximus. Good to have you here in my humble home.” He held his hand out and bid us to enter. I smiled inwardly. This wizard wore cutoff sweatpants and a Hawaiian shirt. The shirt was white and decorated with orange hibiscus flowers. His reddish-brown beard was scattered with a few grays and shaved into a goatee. The hair on his head had once been the same reddish brown, I’m sure, but now it was the color of a Damascus steel blade. I liked him instantly.

  “Nice to meet you, Maximus,” I said, shaking his hand. Surprisingly they were soft hands. No doubt, he used magic a lot in place of hard labor.

  Inside, the place was more spacious than I thought, although still quite snug. Ian and Hugh sat at a modest wooden table close to the kitchen area. The others, Alexander and Adam, sat on the wooden floor by the fire; Trent lay there snoozing, his head on a large, paisley-printed pillow. Next to it sat a bowl with “Kepler” written across the side, filled with milk.

  Hugh stood up to pull out a chair for me. “Thank you, Hugh,” I said. His eyes were half shut, in need of a nap.

  “No problem,” he said. I can only imagine the ride here had been tedious. And what, with Trent and Alexander sitting beside him, tiresome.

  Peering around the corner, I could see Mrs. Pumbleton scurrying about the kitchen, stirring this and that. I was taken aback by the size and cleanliness of the room. Pots and pans of every size hung over a double wide kitchen island. The stove had to be from a restaurant, dual oven, and ten gas burner rings.

  Maximus noticed me gawking. “Oh that, I love to cook. And cooking is a science I have mastered well.”

  He set two sodas down before me and Lucian. “Thank you,” I said.

  “Thank you, sir.” Lucian accepted his and opened it.

  “I’ll have a drink now, Maximus,” Ian said, and then he turned to me. “How was the ride here?” He snickered.

  Lucian peered over his soda can, guzzling the whole thing down in three gulps. “Bite me, Uncle Ian.”

  Ian busted a gut laughing.

  “It never amazes me that you hold back information. Important information, by the way. You could have told me the horse could fly,” I complained.

  “What? Drumm never told you?” I could see the amusement in his eyes. “Didn’t you know we’d be coming to Ireland?”

  “No. I was never told— no matter how many times I asked—that the land of the Elven was over here somewhere. The only thing anyone ever told me was that it was three days of traveling.”

  “Three days!” Maximus piped in. “It doesn’t take three days, mind you. Only one.”

  “No. It’s three days. When we stop in here to visit you, it ends up becoming two more days before we can leave again,” Ian said.

  Maximus’s long, red eyebrows curled up at the ends, making him look either happy or sinister; I couldn’t decide. He lifted one of these eyebrows and said, “It’s good to have the occasional visitor. But then again, they never want to leave.” He had turned the conversation around fast. “I do like my solitude.”

  “I suppose that’s true.” Ian smirked.

  I scanned the room. There were two doors on either side of the fireplace, and Maximus exited one, returning with a bottle of whisky. He poured Ian a glass. “Hugh, would you like a glass?”

  “Certainly.”

  “And for you?” He pointed at the other brothers.

  “Sure. Yeah.” Alexander and Adam nodded.

  He walked around, pouring generous shots in the glasses. Then he pulled down a large glass from a shelf and, for himself, filled it to the halfway mark.

  “Old friend, I think you have poured me a glass of water.” Ian shot him a smart-ass look.

  “I fear the only water you’ll be drinkin’ is out in the horse trough.” Maximus took a swig from his glass. “This is
one of the finest whiskies that Ireland has to offer. I distilled it myself. And trust me, I could drink you under the table.”

  Ian choked on his drink, spitting and dribbling it everywhere as he slapped his knee and laughed. He wiped his mouth with the backside of his black sweater. “I suppose you could, Maximus.”

  “Never doubt it.” Maximus raised both brows and took another swig of his drink.

  I could tell he liked the drink by observing his “whisky belly.”

  “I see that you still have a bottle of Scotland’s finest sitting on your shelf up there. Didn’t I send you that twenty-one-year bottle?”

  The wall was lined with bottles of every size and color, possibly filled with whiskies.

  “No. Kepler drank that bottle. Once he tasted it, he won’t drink anything but that. That’s the tenth bottle I’ve had to buy. My bank account is dwindling fast. I’m trying to wean him to the eighteen-year.” Maximus held up his glass. “But he’s the smartest pig in the world; fine taste in whisky and you can’t fool him.”

  Both of them savored their drinks for a moment, then Maximus said, “Minimus drinks wine coolers.” To which they both burst out in laughter.

  I couldn’t help but smile; their laughter was contagious.

  “Oh, where have we put our manners? Stop being rude, Ian. This pretty little lass just arrived. And the young man—they must be hungry.” And then his attention was on us. “Got some stew cookin’ if you’re hungry.”

  “Yes, I’d like that,” I said. Lucian agreed.

  “You boys have already eaten—you know what time it is. The lads will be mad if you don’t show up for a game tonight.” Maximus focused on Adam, Trent, and Alexander.

  Alexander poked Trent in the ribs hard. “Time to get up.” And then more harshly, he said, “Get up, you smelly bum.”

  “It’s time?” He rubbed his eyes and glanced around the room.

  “Come on, you know they know we are here. They’ll be expecting us.” Adam stood, followed by the other two.

  I had no idea where they could be going. To some game? On the island?

  Hugh stood, downed his glass, and pushed in his chair.

  The others quickly drank their whisky and were out the door. “Hi, Ivy!” Trent waved and then turned to Alexander. “Hey, I didn’t get any whisky!” he whined.

  “Just move it,” Alexander said, walking out the door.

  “Oh wait a moment.” Maximus exited the same door as before and returned with two green and white bottles. “Give this to the lads.” He handed the bottles to Hugh. “I’ll give it to you—and then I know it’ll reach them.”

  Hugh seemed to be the one most like Ian—responsible.

  I watched them through the window as they walked off into the darkness, until they were just dark shadows disappearing into the night.

  Mrs. Pumbleton showed up with two big bowls of stew. She knew I could never eat that much stew in a week, but she set it before me. “Eat up, Ivy. Tomorrow there is a big day ahead of you.”

  “Tomorrow? Shouldn’t we go tonight? I mean…aren’t we running out of time?”

  Maximus held up his hand. “You have time. Plenty of time.”

  I decided to trust the wizard. “If you say so.”

  “The girl worries about her friends. Let me show you something.” He disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a simple fry pan. The thing had been used often and appeared old and warped. “Come to the fire for a moment.”

  He kicked the pig’s pillow out of the way and pulled up a chair. Crouching over the fire, he set the fry pan over some sort of wire netting. Tossing some sort of seed into the pan, he then inhaled and blew on the pan with great force.

  At this time, Minimus and the pig, Kepler, walked into the house. “I must wash my hands,” Minimus said, peeling off some rubber gloves. On his way past the table, he noticed that Ian’s glass was empty. Stopping, he poured more whisky in and then disappeared into the kitchen, while Kepler jumped on his pillow, pawed at it like a dog, bit at it, fluffed it up, did three circles, and then lay down with a grunt. His beady blue eyes watched me from his pillow.

  “Minimus is a bit of a neat freak. I’ll never need a house maid with him around,” Maximus stated.

  My attention back on Maximus and his fry pan, I observed the way he shook the pan as though he were about to flip a pancake. He pursed his lips and kept a steady stream of air on the seed. Suddenly, the seed went pop, and a blue flame erupted in the pan.

  “Ah, here we go.” He shook the pan a bit more and then pulled his hand up over the flame. Seconds later, a forest could be seen within the blue vapor. As Maximus moved his hand over the flame, the scene moved along as if we, ourselves were walking through the forest. He snapped his fingers, and it sped up until it showed an encampment. My heart raced as I recognized who they were. Niall and Conri, and two of the other Elven that I recognized as Tomlin and Jorden, sat around a small fire, roasting yellow bell peppers and eggplant.

  “The Elven”—he made a point of noticing my ears—“have a way of cloaking their fire. You could be walking ten feet from it and never see or smell it. Genius, if you ask me.”

  I bit my bottom lip as I searched for Drumm. He wasn’t there. Maximus must have seen the panic in my eyes. “Don’t worry, lass.” His hand flew around the flame, and the scene changed. It was almost as though a spy camera were floating up a tree, and then we were observing something in the tree limbs.

  My hand flew to my mouth as I squealed. Kepler lifted his head when he heard this.

  Lying on the thick limbs, with his hands behind his head, was Drumm. He was shirtless but still wore his bag of arrows over his shoulder. He stared up into the night sky at the thick blanket of stars. “Oh my,” was all I could say. He had to be the most beautiful young man in the world.

  “Looks like he’s dreaming of someone.” Maximus tried to hold back a smile.

  Lucian snorted, and I shot him a sideways death stare, but only briefly; I couldn’t keep my eyes from Drumm. Absentmindedly, I reached for the flame. I just wanted to touch his golden hair.

  “No, Ivy! Don’t touch the flame.” Maximus stopped my hand. “That wouldn’t be a good thing.”

  He let me observe Drumm for another minute. Near the end of the vision, I could have sworn Drumm smiled. “Can he sense me watching him?”

  “Perhaps in his heart, I suppose.” The vision disappeared, leaving only the blue fire. Maximus extinguished the flame with the cover of the pan. “So, you see…everything is running in order, just as it should. Like I said, you have time.”

  Minimus returned to the sitting area with a pink-colored wine cooler, hunkered over a chair, and blew on it before he seated himself. His baby face had no sign whatsoever of any facial hair. It was smooth, like a baby’s bottom. He held up his cooler. “With Maximus, time is but a small matter.”

  Ian, who’d been quiet through the whole process, lifted his almost empty glass. “King Maximus, king of all chefs.” He had a subtle but noticeable slur.

  “Put the drink aside, Ian. We have things to discuss.” Maximus winked at me.

  Lucian had finished his bowl of stew and had started in on mine, to which Mrs. Pumbleton walked out of the kitchen and swatted his hand. “I’ll get you another bowl. Ivy, come eat your stew.”

  I knew she wouldn’t let it go, and so I proceeded to eat my stew.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Maximus and Ian lit up cigars and went about discussing the goings-on of Merribay. The cloying sweetness of the smoke wafted in the air and spanned the entire room. Minimus fanned his face and then jumped up to open the front door.

  Two pairs of glasses hung out of Maximus’s shirt pocket, and when he bent over to pick up a box, a pair fell out onto the floor. He stepped forward to find them when all that could be heard was…crunch.

  “Ah, shoot.”

  “He could fix his eyes, but he’s too stubborn,” Ian said.

  “I barely need glasses, you fool,” he s
aid as he squinted. “I just use these glasses for extra detail.”

  “It’s the extra detail that keeps him from bumping into walls and introducing himself to coatracks when he goes inland to shop for his shirts. Oh, and should I remind you of your chemistry set? The one you plowed over,” Minimus interjected.

  Ian laughed at Maximus’s expense, spilling his drink on his shirt, to which Minimus walked over and dabbed it with a dish towel.

  Maximus ignored them and kicked the glasses to the corner. He walked over to a quaint, little desk along the wall, and pulled open a drawer full of glasses. “Problem solved,” he said.

  Minimus hurried over to the corner, picked up the broken glasses, and took them to the kitchen trash. He was starting to remind me of someone.

  And with the thought of my Aunt Cora, I brought her up in conversation. “Maximus, do you know anything about my aunt?”

  He rubbed his beard and scrunched his eyes, appearing thoughtful. “Well, I do, but Minimus might be able to fill you in there.”

  Minimus’s face turned a funny shade of red. “Why me?” He lifted his chin.

  “Ha. You know what I’m talking about.” Maximus bent to lift the dirty, old box to the table; this time Lucian hopped up out of his chair and picked up the old box and set it down on the table with a thud.

  Maximus lowered his chin and watched Minimus. “Go on, tell the girl what you know.” Then turning to me he said, “Your aunt and Minimus go way back—they have met at a few conclaves in the past.”

  Minimus glanced my way through half-closed eyelids as though I wouldn’t be able to tell he was looking at me. “I saw your aunt, the angel that she is, in my pocket watch. She was flying just to the south side of the island, on a horse that appeared to be getting quite tired.”