by B. J. Smash
“Huh? You saw her in your pocket watch?”
“It’s his scrying device,” Ian said.
Minimus pulled a gold pocket watch from his trousers. “It only works sometimes. But there she was, flying by like a goddess…” He had whispered the latter part. “I secretly sent the horse a booster spell, so that she wouldn’t be harmed in any way.”
So, he had a nice crush on my aunt. All three males stifled their laughter so as not to embarrass Minimus too much.
“At least she made it. I’ve been worried about her,” I said.
“She has two outcomes. Which road she follows is up to her,” Maximus said as he pawed through the box.
“What do you mean by two outcomes?” I asked, suddenly worried.
“Oh, lass. I wouldn’t make you worry like that. Just hope for the best,” Maximus said. “Why don’t you and Lucian head down to the game for a time.”
“Okay. But one other thing. What of Izadora?”
“Don’t worry about her, either,” he said solemnly.
I wanted to stay with them, but Lucian and I had been excused to leave and track down his father and uncles.
“They’ll be down on level ground. There is a big open field,” we were told by Minimus, who went about cleaning up the dirty dishes and dusting the table. “Take the right path past the barn, and follow it—you can’t miss it. Just be careful of the…” He paused and then said, “Nah, you’ll be fine.”
The trek down the great hill took no time. But what started out as a leisurely walk turned into speed walking, which then turned into a jog, which then turned into a run-like-hell, save-your-lives, get-the-hell-out-of-here race.
Even though I was part Elven, and Lucian could shape-shift into a hellhound, it did not stop us from being paranoid teenagers in this mystical, untouched forest. Who knew what lurked out there?
We started out fine, finding the path easily enough. I even peeked in on Solstice, to find him resting calmly; Pladia was nestled into his mane. From there we found the path that led us downhill. The forest smelled musty and mildewed in parts, but the air was fresh and pure. I walked in my bare feet, as I usually did. The earth felt cool and spongy, and the leaves, full of moisture, brushed our arms as we passed. We couldn’t see too far into the forest, as it was quite dense.
We were walking along and things started out pleasant, but when we heard a low moan that sounded like a wounded cow in the thickset trees, I started picking up speed. Lucian matched his stride to mine, and for a time everything was quiet. It wasn’t like back home, where you might hear a branch breaking from a nearby fox or coon. No little animals scurrying about. Here, it was graveyard quiet.
Neither of us dared to speak. Shortly after, we heard it again, a low groan, only a bit closer this time. Lucian scratched his neck, nervous-like, and then tapped my arm to gain my attention. He began to jog lightly, a spring to his step. I followed his lead, pretending everything was just fine.
Everything was fine. We both calmed our nerves by jogging but we still remained silent, hearing only our own footfalls, listening to the eerily quiet woods.
The next thing I know, a loud, piercing scream sounded to the left of us. It sounded like a woman in great anguish or pain, and she meant business. Behind us, something crossed from one side of the road to the other. Turning my head, I saw a white flowing wispy figure disappear into the trees.
“Ghost!” Lucian yelled out.
We were off like two idiots chasing after a truck full of candy apples. I didn’t leave him in my dust like I wanted to; instead we kept pace with one another till we were off the path and into the opening of a large field.
I know that I have dealt with witches. I know that I have had to deal with a demon-like being, Izaill. And I’ve stood my ground, for the most part. But when it comes to ghosts even scarier than Silvie, that’s where I become chicken salad. To me, if it’s something you can’t fight, you should run. Fast.
When we reached the field, we found the guys along with several other folk. They were all spread out over the field, which was good sized. They all seemed to enjoy our dramatic entrance.
“The banshee almost get to ya, laddie?” one of the new fellas said to Lucian.
Lucian breathed heavily, and I doubt it was from running. I think he shared the same feelings about ghosts that I did.
“What the hell just happened?” Lucian asked me.
I shrugged my shoulders, and we focused our attention on the guys.
They had been playing some sort of game with long sticks that reminded me of hockey sticks but were wider at the bottom.
Adam introduced one of the men. “This is Angus.”
Angus had auburn hair, a striking face, and green/brown eyes. He was about to walk over and then turned to the other players and yelled like a crazy dude, “Don’t make me come down there!” His voice was loud, wild, and intimidating. Then like Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, he turned to me with a smile that could steal your breath away. “Hi, Ivy. Hi, Lucy.”
Alexander and Trent laughed.
“I’m going to kill them,” Lucian mumbled. Leaning in toward me, he said, “They always introduce me like that.”
He stood straight. “Ah…it’s Lucian. Good to meet you.” They shook hands.
“Lucy it is, then,” Angus said. Alexander and Trent snickered some more.
When he shook my hand, I knew then what he was. I could feel the energy zip up my arm. And if his perfect good looks didn’t give it away, the handshake did.
He caught my expression. “Don’t worry, I’m the good kind.” He touched my cheek, turned, and ran back to his position.
“In case you don’t know, they are Seelie. The kind of Fae that like humans,” Lucian said.
“It is better to never—and I mean NEVER—offend one of them.” He took to whispering. “They get offended easily. If you happen to offend one, you better start apologizing—but never over-apologize. That’s bad, too.”
“Is that why you let him call you Lucy?” I smiled.
He rolled his eyes. “Duh.”
Carrying on, they ignored us while we sat on the sideline and watched. Observing them, I realized that the game appeared to be similar to lacrosse, hockey, and baseball all at the same time, but there was a lot of knocking over going on here. One of the Seelie knocked Alexander right off his feet, landing him on his backside. Another time, Trent was hit so, that he spun in the air and landed on his stomach. This amused Lucian to no end.
With this game, the players could catch the ball and hit it with their sticks like a baseball, run while balancing the ball on the end of the stick, use the stick to scoop the ball up, carry the ball by hand but only for I think three steps, and then they’d balance it on the sticks.
One of the guys caught the ball, carried it for three steps, and then tossed the ball to the end of the stick and balanced it while running. He then took the ball and hit it like a baseball, across the field.
The players in this game were fast and surely highly skilled. No doubt. They were all amazing. I instantly loved this game, and I didn’t even know what it was.
“Lucian.” I nudged him. “What’s this game called, anyway?”
“It’s hurling.”
One guy struck the ball to the ground, and it went flying into another player’s hand. He then ran a short distance, threw it up, and smacked it hard into the goal.
“With hurling, you can shoot it over the crossbar, you see there, for one point.” He pointed at the goal closest to us, which was “H” shaped. “Or you can shoot the ball into the netting for three.”
We watched on. Some of the Fae were on the McCallisters’ team to even out the sides. Hugh didn’t get the ball too often. I think he only played to even the numbers. In fact, he was a bit timid, his body rigid when the ball came close, although Adam, Trent, and Alexander looked like they were playing their hearts out. They were good and very skilled at this game. They played for quite some time and finally, one of the Fae kick
ed the ball into the netting and the game was over. Their arms flew up and they roared, victorious.
They asked us to play for a while, to “practice” with them. Lucian and I didn’t dare to decline. We practiced balancing the ball, tossing it, hitting it. Finally Angus said to me, “See if you can make a goal.”
I had to try. Who would have thought in a million years that I’d be here on an arcane island off the shore of Ireland, playing a hurling game with the Seelie?
I borrowed Angus’s stick and I managed to do it, zooming past a group of them, balancing the ball on my stick, carrying it once to see if I could and then, from a great distance, kicking it in the goal.
They found this funny for some reason. “Ivy Fast Legs,” one of them called out. I handed the stick to Angus.
He took it but then he said, “For you, my stick. Keep it.” He whacked me on the shoulder and handed it back.
I almost denied it; after all, it looked like he’d had it a while. Why would he want to part with it? Then I remembered: don’t offend the Seelie. I reached out and took it. “Thank you.” I almost continued to say, “That’s very kind of you,” but I refrained. The Seelie didn’t seem like the kind of beings that liked to be overly thanked. A simple thank-you would suffice.
“Until next time.” He shook our hands. “We’ve been coming here for over two hundred years, I’m sure you’ll see us around.”
Two hundred years? Wow.
As they all gathered around to bid us farewell, I couldn’t help but notice the difference between the Seelie and the Unseelie. Where the Unseelie turned their noses up and looked down on you, the Seelie greeted you with kind eyes, meeting your own. They looked you in the eyes and smiled. I wouldn’t say they were warm but good-natured.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“I’m tired,” Lucian informed us all. We were all ushered into the house by Minimus.
“Mrs. Pumbleton has already gone to bed. You’ll sleep in the castle,” Minimus said.
“Castle?” I asked, amazed.
“This would be my summer house, lass. You’ll sleep in the castle behind us,” Maximus called out from the kitchen. He was cooking Thai food, and the scent of onions, garlic, ginger, and lemongrass wafted in the air.
He’d already placed a fish curry on the table. The aromatic spices filled my nose.
“I promised Ian I’d make Thai while he was here,” he said.
“Yes, and while Maximus rarely sleeps, he thought now would be the best time.” Ian slouched to the side of his chair, his elbow bent and head resting in his hand.
Kepler waddled up to me as I sat in the chair closest to the kitchen. He nudged me until I scratched his head. He sniffed and snorted all the while, till Maximus brought some more dishes out. “Chicken larb gai and coconut curry pork.”
Kepler jumped up on his hind legs to sniff away at the dishes, using my knees to balance himself. Then he went back to all fours and walked in circles, squealing.
I covered my ears and observed his crazy ways.
“He’ll do that until you give him a few spoonfuls of the pork,” Maximus stated. Then he plopped some in a dish by the fireplace.
“The pig eats…pork?” Lucian asked.
From the kitchen, Maximus stirred something and said, “It may be disturbing that Kepler eats pork. As smart as he is, you’d think he’d know better. But wait for morning.” He pointed at the pig. “At breakfast, he insists on bacon.”
I cringed at the thought. Then again, pigs eat anything, so it wasn’t too surprising.
The pig gobbled up his coconut curry pork and then returned to me to have his ears scratched again. Maximus brought out a plate full of baby pineapples. After eating a couple, I had to agree with Lucian; I was beat. I had to hit the hay.
Minimus came to our rescue. “Follow me. I’ll take you up.”
“Oh yes, by all means, get to bed. Tomorrow is a big day,” Maximus said.
Ian had fallen asleep in the chair, his mouth wide open. Trent, not being able to resist, tossed a piece of eggroll in his mouth. He woke up coughing and gagging while all the brothers, except Adam, cracked up laughing.
“Bloody moron. Imbecile.” Ian cursed and, knowing it had to have been Trent that had done it, threw the piece of eggroll at his head. It bounced off, and Kepler ate it.
Minimus walked to the wall by the desk and tapped three times, and slowly a door formed. “We’ll take the passage.” He opened the old gray door and stepped in, pulling a lantern from the wall. He lit it, and I could see the stairs past him. There were eight of them, and then it leveled off to a cavern-like walkway made of stone.
“Oh…nope. There are spiders.” He backed out, fluffing his hair with his free hand and waving at the air to dispense of any webs. “We’ll take the long way around.”
We left the McCallister brothers to their arguing, and Minimus led us to a path behind the house. It was rocky and steep, but the cool, rough rocks below my feet didn’t bother me. The shadows, however, did. But I carried with me the hurling stick, and I was ready to use it.
“It’s just a ways up here on the mountain,” he said.
The silence made me nervous, and I didn’t want to think about the banshee from earlier. I tried to make conversation. “So, Maximus likes to cook, huh? Even if it’s almost midnight?”
“That’s Maximus for you. If he’s not out wizarding…he’s cooking,” Minimus responded. Then he asked, “Did you happen to see the banshee?”
The very subject I was trying to avoid.
“We did. Scary as bloody hell,” Lucian stated. He walked close by me.
“Ah, that would be our Alice. She fell from one of the cliffs about a hundred years ago. Normally a banshee wails when someone in their family is going to die. Not our Alice. She just likes to scare you now and then. Although Maximus doesn’t believe in ghosts.”
I found that hard to believe. “Really?”
“Oh yes, it’s true. One can be right in the room with him, and he’ll pretend that he doesn’t see it. If he hears a noise, it can always be explained away with science.”
“Interesting,” Lucian said. “But he’s a wizard.”
“One of the greatest,” Minimus said. I think he was implying that he was also one of the greatest. “However, to my own understanding, I think he does believe in them; he just likes me to think he doesn’t. And of course he understands there are demons afoot. He’s fought one or two of them in the past.”
“Demons!” Lucian said.
“Like Izaill?” I asked.
“Oh, far worse than him, I’m afraid. Far worse.”
I had a hard time believing that anything could be worse than Izaill. Except Magella. I decided that I didn’t want to discuss demons right before bed, and I brought the conversation back to ghosts.
“But obviously, you do believe in ghosts,” I stated.
“You can bet your britches I do. But normally they don’t bother us here on the island. What, with my almost impenetrable wards and all,” Minimus said as we finished the hike to the top. Muted blue light could be seen through the long, spindly branches. “And there you have it—our castle.”
I expected to see an old, ancient, rundown castle. Instead, it was something from the heavens. Something ahead of our time. Something…alien.
“What the…?” Lucian said, his tired eyes suddenly popping open to the size of hamburger buns.
From what I could see, the castle had circular columns on the ends with pointed tops. Parts of it were hidden in the trees. An immense rectangular section with pointy, irregular peaks was spread out in the middle, displaying probably a hundred windows. The place was made out of something like white pearly marble; two decorative front columns stood by the doorway. They were lit from within, as if they had blue candles inside. We climbed three stairs to reach the platform, and the outer railing was covered heavily with greenery.
I could hear the ocean not far from here, and I asked the obvious. “Is that the ocean?”
/> “Yes, during the day you can see the ocean from here,” Minimus answered. “The best view is from Maximus’s study.”
“How do see through the mist?” I asked.
“Oh, dear Ivy. Aren’t you cute? Maximus and I can see through the mist. It is only onlookers that cannot see us.”
The air had a faint musky smell. I expected to see incense burning, but there was no smoke anywhere. He pulled the heavy wooden door open to an elaborate foyer. Kitty-cornered on the right side of the wall was a broad fireplace. Above the mantle hung a painting of the planets. To the left were a set of stone stairs that curved up the wall to a wide archway. On the wall along the stairs hung a plain red carpet. I had to wonder if Maximus had ever used it as a magic carpet to fly upon, up over the ocean and into the starry sky to look down upon the beautiful countryside of Ireland.
On either side of the carpet hung two old-fashioned sconces, and in the center of the foyer, high up on the ceiling, cascaded a beautiful chandelier, the lights shining like crystal stars. Along the back wall, a candelabra sat atop a black chest of drawers. The walls themselves were made of blocks of stone.
I loved the place. I would have been happy to sleep here on the floor in front of the fireplace, but he took us up the stairs and through the archway.
Before us lay another foyer-type area. To the left, through another archway; some sort of dining area spanned the whole room. The table, shaped like a “C,” had several chairs around the outer angle. Another archway stood behind the table, probably leading to a kitchen. High up on the walls were expensive tapestries.
To the right, a sitting room decorated with plush red furniture and an expansive cabinet filled with ports and wines. We walked up more stairs, and at the top lay a hallway with marble columns every twenty feet. Between each of the columns were palm trees, and next to each palm tree were expensive, gold gilded doors. We passed one of the doors which had a lion knocker, the eyes made of emeralds, only to hear something that simulated a chain saw.
“That’s just Mrs. Pumbleton. She snores. I’ll put you farther down so you don’t have to hear it.”