It was hard to tell if Ms. Itig was joking or not. And that was her way. Calum had learned many things from Ms. Itig and one of them was humor. Calum realized it had taken him an entire year to figure out that Ms. Itig really did like her students. They just needed a year to grow to like her.
The students continued working on their bookmarks, and when they finished, put them into Ms. Itig’s basket. They cleaned up their areas, and sat talking and signing yearbooks as they waited for the end of the day. Some students stopped by Ms. Itig’s desk and gave her fierce hugs. The final few minutes of the school year were evaporating like dew on an early spring morning when a long and mournful sound came drifting down the hallway.
“What’s that?” asked several students at once.
“That marks the end of your sixth-grade year,” said Ms. Itig. “I wish you all a safe summer, and I hope you’ll come visit me next year.”
Then Ms. Itig did something strange, even for her. She picked up an old frying pan Calum recognized from their lessons about sound waves. Next she picked up a wooden spoon and used it to bang on the bottom of the pan. She ushered her students toward the door and into the hallway which was filled with resounding noise. The mournful sound turned out to be bagpipes being played by the band director as he led students from his classroom.
All of the teachers were making noise with various objects. Some were playing actual instruments and others, like Ms. Itig, who were clearly nonmusical, were making noise with pots and pans. The teachers marched students through the school, out the front door, and to the buses. They continued to serenade their students, and waved goodbye to each bus as it drove out of the parking lot.
Kenzie waited for Calum and his friends in the car line. The four friends climbed into the car, and Calum turned around to take one last look at Longwood Middle School as they drove out of the parking lot. He wasn’t sure, but the teachers seemed to be dancing in a long, winding conga line as they made their way back into the building.
“How many friends are coming to Siopa Leabhar for the patio party?” asked Kenzie.
“About twelve, counting us,” said Calum.
“Well everything’s ready for you. Let me know when you want me to bring out the refreshments.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
Calum, Hagen, Laurel, and Daniel entered Siopa Leabhar and were greeted by Wrecks. He had been waiting for them on the window seat and howled loudly when he glimpsed their arrival.
“Hey, boy,” said Calum. “Are you ready for summer vacation? I am.”
“Laurel, may I see you for a second?” asked Kenzie.
The boys walked outside to the patio, with Wrecks following closely with his ever-wagging tail. They sat at one of the tables and reflected on their sixth-grade year as they waited for their classmates to arrive.
“Remember how afraid we were to go to Longwood? It seems stupid now,” said Calum.
“Speak for yourself,” said Hagen. “I wasn’t afraid.”
Calum burst out laughing. “Yes you were.”
“Yeah, yeah,” said Hagen. Then he changed the subject by asking, “Did you get a look at the seventh grade summer reading list? It has three books. Honestly, do they expect us to walk around with our nose in a book all summer?”
“And I have one more,” said Laurel, joining them. “Kenzie just gave me this.” She handed a worn leather-bound book to Calum.
He read the title and smiled. “A Broken Accord. Mom’s favorite book.” At that moment, Calum knew Laurel had been accepted into their clan. Daniel, too. No question. Finley had treated Daniel as his brother, and so would Calum.
“Hey, do you guys know where I can buy the summer reading books?” asked Hagen with a laugh.
Wi
Calum spent the first week of summer vacation as he had done so many years before, working at Siopa Leabhar. This summer, however, he had a new purpose. He sat at the checkout desk reading an ancient book, surrounded by at least twenty other volumes of varying sizes. All looked to be centuries old with crusty covers and threadbare bindings.
“Read much?” asked Hagen, wandering into the store. “Where’d you get those old books?”
“Some came from Uilleam, and some from our leabharlann,” said Calum. “I thought I might find something about brownies.”
“And their verse,” Hagen said with complete understanding. “Hand me one.”
“Thanks for helping,” said Calum, passing one of the thick books to Hagen.
“He’s my cousin, too.”
“This is the third time I’ve tried to read this part. As soon as I read it, I forget what I’ve read. It’s like the book doesn’t want me to know.”
“Maybe that’s how it keeps its secrets,” said Hagen.
The two boys read in silence until it was time to close the store. Calum returned the dusty books to a glass display case labeled Collectibles. He stepped through the stacks, picking up and putting away stray books and magazines. Maybe tomorrow, he thought. I’ll never stop looking, Finley. I promise.
A soft orange light glowed from one of the stacks and then dimmed as Calum followed his mother and cousin outside.
The Choice
Book Two of The Sidhe
Chapter One
Almost Missed It
“Are you sure you saw it?” Calum asked, running his hand through his light brown hair. “You saw the glowing?”
“Yes,” Hagen puffed. “I’m positive, cuz.”
“Kenzie, what’s taking so long?” Calum impatiently bounced on the balls of his feet in front of Siopa Leabhar.
“I’m hurrying,” said Kenzie. She struggled with the lock on the heavy door to the only bookstore in Wander County. “It’s stuck.”
“Forget the lock!” said Calum. “Pateface!” He tore into the bookstore, Hagen close behind him. “Come on, Hagen. Show me!”
Granddad, Calum thought as he raced to the back of the store. I need you. He was met at the cash register by a tall man with copper-colored hair.
“What is it?” asked Uilleam. “Why did you call me here? What’s wrong?”
“Hagen saw the glowing,” Calum said breathlessly.
“I saw it just before Kenzie closed the door when we were leaving,” explained Hagen.
“Are you sure it was meant for you?” asked Uilleam.
“We were the only ones here,” said Calum. “It has to be the verse for Finley.” He raced erratically from stack to stack, pulling books from the shelves, exposing hundreds of lines of faerie verse. “Help me move the books so we can see them,” he urged.
“Stop, Calum,” Uilleam said calmly. He raised his right arm and swept the air, causing the books to return their places.
Calum looked at his grandfather in disbelief. “But we have to find it,” he pleaded.
“We will find it,” said Uilleam. “What was the last thing you were doing before you closed the bookshop?”
Calum breathed deeply, trying to remember. “Hagen and I were going through those old books you gave me, looking for the translation of Brownshire’s verse. It was time to go home. Mom and Hagen waited at the front door while I put the books in here.”
Calum walked to a glass display case labeled Collectibles. “Pateface,” he said, peering inside. “Wait a minute. That wasn’t there before.” The letters Wi had been carved into the wood hundreds of times, spilling down the front of the shelf, stopping just above a thin green book with no title. “It has to be this one.” Calum pulled the book from the shelf. “But it can’t be.”
“Why not?” asked Uilleam.
“I already tried to read this book, but the words don’t make sense.” He passed the book to his grandfather.
“I haven’t seen one of these in years,” said Uilleam, turning the volume over in his hands.
“You know this?” asked Kenzie.
“Yes,” said Uilleam, flipping through the pages. “Switch Verse. It’s very old, dark magic. Words are poured onto the page from a lepidolite cup, which pr
otects the verse from being read.”
“But you can read it, can’t you, Granddad?” Calum asked desperately.
Uilleam smiled. He put the book on the checkout desk and opened to a random page in the middle. Passing his hand over the book, he said, “Oriri.” The book shook and clouds of dust wafted up from it.
Calum watched as words made their way to the top of the page, rearranging themselves into coherent sentences. He felt Hagen edging closer to him, peering over his shoulder.
“It looks like a dictionary,” said Hagen.
“A book of faerie verse,” said Uilleam. “Probably in alphabetical order.”
Calum turned the pages. Each was a jumbled mess of words, but within seconds, verses straightened themselves out on the yellowed pages. Calum turned several pages back. “Here it is!” he said. “That’s what Brownshire said: Fero tuti latum.” Calum read the words aloud. “A dark and destructive verse. Not intended for killing; however, the accursed will wish for death, for the existence of a…” Calum squinted. “I can’t make out the next word.”
Kenzie leaned in, reading the passage. “Oh no,” she gasped. “Finley’s been turned into a—”
“A what?” Calum sputtered. “What’s happened to him?”
The look in Kenzie’s eyes told him he didn’t want to know, that he couldn’t handle knowing. But another fear gripped Calum. If he couldn’t even handle knowing the truth, how would Finley survive it?
Acknowledgements
I am blessed to have so many wonderful people in my life. I thank them now for their love and encouragement.
First, my Creator, without whom I would have nothing and be nothing.
I’d like to thank my husband, Andrew.
I thank my greatest joy, Connor, who amazes me and inspires me on a daily basis. Thank you to Stephanie for your support and encouragement in this writing thing and my heart to Clara for blessing us all with her beautiful light.
Heartfelt thanks to my parents Chuck and Jeri Cipriano. I simply could not have had better. And thank you to my number one cheerleader, Ruth Bullard.
Thanks to my brother, Charles Cipriano and sister, AnnMarie Cipriano Phillips and my bonus siblings, Kristi and Greg. Thank you for my beautiful nieces and nephews, each of whom holds a special place in my heart. Kristin (and Jared), Mary (and Nick), Trey (and Sunny), Preston, Sarah, Karen, Hannah, Harry, Emily, and Megan.
I love you all.
To ZiZi, my constant companion and bedtime alarm clock, I love you because, well you know why. Sweet dreams, Kitten.
Special thanks to Sarah Hembrow, my wonderful and patient editor. We’ve really got our hands full now with two series and I couldn’t keep them straight without you! Big thanks to Rob Johnson and Vulpine Press for giving The Sidhe a wonderful home. Thank you to Claire Wood for the beautiful cover artwork.
And a huge thank you to my readers. I love hearing from you, so please do reach out and let me know what you think about Calum, Hagen, Laurel and everyone at Emerald Lake
Websitewww.cindycipriano.com
Instagramtherealcindycipriano
Facebook@VictorLeathJames
Twitter@CindyCipriano
The Circle Page 16