Blood of the Fae

by Tom Mohan

  “Meaning it’s something I wouldn’t understand.”

  “Precisely.”

  “Maybe I’m smarter than you give me credit for.”

  “I apologize if I’ve insulted you. That was not my intention. What I meant is that you have no basis for understanding. Given time, things might become clear, but for now, I do not know that such understanding is necessary.”

  “Bri is by far the weirdest one in the family,” Fallon said. “It’s one of the reasons we love her so much.”

  Brianna’s face softened at her sister’s words. “Fallon and Marcas got the more attractive personalities that Conall and I lack. They always know what to say to make people feel at ease.” She sighed. “We are all equipped for our purposes. You as well, Liza. What is your purpose, I wonder?”

  “Liza’s an actress,” Fallon said. “She’s going to put Halden’s Mill on the map.”

  Liza blushed. “I doubt that. I mean, I’ve always enjoyed acting, but I’ve never felt it was my purpose.” She paused. “I feel like I’ve been searching for a purpose my whole life. I just want to belong somewhere.” She looked down at her lap. She hadn’t meant to reveal such personal thoughts to total strangers.

  “Well, I do know a few things,” Brianna said, breaking the silence. “You have some purpose here. The men who pursued you in California were not targeting at random. They found you at the same time I did. That was no coincidence.” She took a cookie from the tray. “There is also the fact that you and Marcas were friends.”

  “Where is Marcas?” Liza asked. “I thought I would see him by now.” The idea of seeing Marcas again made her both nervous and angry.

  Liza jumped as the phone beside Brianna rang—the phone that was not wireless and yet had no wire. Brianna reached over and picked up the hand piece. “Good morning, Ruth. How are you today?” She was silent a moment as she listened to the person on the other end. Her face grew pale. “You are certain about this?” A pause. “No, no I didn’t. I’ll send them right away.” Her hand trembled as she hung up the phone.

  “What’s wrong, Bri?” Fallon asked. “You’re whiter than I am.”

  Brianna stared at her lap a moment before looking up. Tears shone in her eyes. “Dadai Patrick is dead.”

  “What? How?”

  “He was murdered, like his brother.”

  Fallon’s face registered shock and disbelief.

  “Who’s Dadai Patrick?” Liza asked.

  “One of the Old Ones,” Fallon said, her voice little more than a whisper. “One of the keepers of the lore.” She looked at Brianna. “How did you not know?”

  Brianna gazed at the closed curtain. “I don’t know. Like before, I should have known. Things of such nature should not be hidden from me.” She turned to Liza. “You are certain you do not know how that cut came to be on your leg?”

  “No, I told you…wait, you can’t think I had anything to do with this? You brought me here. None of this was my idea.”

  Brianna’s dark eyes bored into Liza’s. “It is strange that you cannot remember receiving such a wound.”

  Liza had her own questions. “Why should you have known about this death? How would you if you weren’t involved?”

  “I’m the Seer.”

  “You told Ruth you would send us right out,” Fallon said, changing the subject. “Mom and Dad want to see us?”

  Brianna nodded, but her gaze never left Liza.

  “Ruth is the family housekeeper,” Fallon said. “At least, that’s what most think. She does a lot more than that.” She grabbed Liza’s hand and pulled her up from the chair. “Come on. We need to find out what’s up.”

  Liza’s mind was spinning. “Where are we going now? What does any of this have to do with us?”

  “It has everything to do with us. I’ll let Mom and Dad explain when we get to the farm.” She leaned in close as she pulled Liza out the front door. “But first, I want to do a quick drive by Dadai Patrick’s house.”

  Tell me again why we’re going to a dead man’s house?” Liza asked as Fallon’s truck sped along a two-lane road in the country.

  Fallon smiled, her red hair blowing in the wind of the open window. “We aren’t actually going to his house. The cops would never let us in.” She paused. “Well, actually they might let me in if I was alone. Anyway, I want to see what’s going on. Two Old Ones dead is beyond huge. It’s unheard of. Ever.”

  Liza watched the scenery pass by as the road stretched before them. “How far are we going?”

  “Not far. The Old Ones all live in a perimeter around the town. They know who comes and who goes. Halden’s Mill isn’t always the sleepy town we locals make it out to be. It’s good to know who is in town at any given time.”

  “Thanks, that was a big help. What exactly did your sister drag me into?”

  Fallon tugged a strand of hair from her face and navigated the truck onto a narrow gravel road. “I’ll admit, things have gotten weird, even by the Mill’s standards, but I don’t think you need to be afraid. Yet.”

  Liza glanced over, expecting to see the familiar grin on Fallon’s face. It wasn’t there.

  Ahead, she could now see a line of cars pulled off the side of the road. Just past them was a small house with chipped paint and vines growing over it. A police car sat in the front of the dirt driveway, blocking the entrance. As they drew nearer, a man in a police uniform stepped out the front door and watched them approach.

  “That there is Jim Murphy, our local chief of police. This could get interesting,” Fallon said.

  Fallon slowed the truck as the cop strolled across the yard toward the road. His long stride covered the ground quickly. He was tall and thin, with wide shoulders that gave the impression of strength. Dark hair peeked from beneath his hat. He hopped the narrow ditch alongside the road and waved at Fallon to stop.

  Fallon pulled to a halt beside the man. “Howdy, Jim.”

  The chief nodded. “Fallon. Can’t say I’m surprised to see you.” His blue eyes took in Liza. “Who’s this?”

  “This is Liza. She’s a friend of Marcas.”

  “What’s she doing here?”

  Fallon folded her arms on the open window and leaned toward him. “Here here, or here in town?”

  The cop’s eyes never left Liza. “What brings you to town?”

  Liza wanted to sink into the seat and disappear. How could she answer when she didn’t know what she was doing there?

  Fortunately, Fallon answered for her. “Brianna called her. She thinks Liza is somehow connected to whatever’s going on.”

  The chief’s stare finally moved from Liza to Fallon. “Not good bringing strangers in. Speaking of your brothers . . .”

  “I didn’t realize we were.”

  “We are now. I need to talk to them. Conall especially.”

  “I haven’t seen either of them in days.” Fallon paused. “What is it, Jim? I’ve never seen you this uptight.”

  Again, the cop’s eyes shifted to Liza. “Things aren’t right. Two dead in less than a week. Brianna didn’t know about Patrick either, did she?”

  Fallon shook her head.

  He nodded. “I’ll be out to see your folks. There’s some things they need to know.”

  “I’ll tell them to expect you. They always enjoy your company.”

  He tipped his hat and turned back toward the house.

  “He didn’t seem very happy to see me,” Liza said.

  “Don’t worry about it.” Fallon pulled the truck away. “Jim’s a great guy. He’s just not used to not knowing what’s going on. Neither am I, for that matter. There’s a certain way things work in this town, and, lately, none of it has been working the way it should. That can be a very bad thing.”

  “Or maybe he just doesn’t like strangers. I kind of stand out around here.”

  “Ha! You think you’re the first out-of-towner to waltz into the Mill? Trust me, we get more than you’d think. Jim has dealt with a lot more exotic things than a girl f
rom California.” Fallon’s face grew serious. “The last thing Jim’s worried about is how you look.”

  They crested a small hill, and the road took a sharp curve to the left. As they were starting into the curve, a figure darted out in front of them. Fallon slammed on the brakes. The truck slid sideways on the loose gravel before straightening again. A cloud of dust enveloped them as the truck screeched to a halt.

  “That looked like Marcas,” Liza said.

  “That was Conall.” Fallon’s voice carried none of its usual light, carefree tone. She sounded scared. She pulled the truck to the side of the road and jumped out.

  “Fallon, what are you doing?”

  If Fallon heard, she gave no indication. Liza watched out the window as Fallon disappeared around the bend the way they’d come.

  Liza hesitated a moment before climbing out of the truck and hurrying after her. She found Fallon standing on the edge of the road where her brother had disappeared into the trees. Before Liza could say anything, Fallon took off into the forest. Liza yelled for her to come back, but the only answer was the fading sound of Fallon’s footsteps. Soon, the forest was silent.

  Liza looked back toward the truck, but it was hidden by the bend in the road. She turned toward the woods, where nature was beginning to resume its normal midday song now that the interruption had passed.

  Follow Fallon, or wait at the truck? She looked down at her long skirt and sandals. Not exactly hiking gear. But how long might it be until another car passed by? The grass growing in the middle of the road didn’t inspire much confidence. Stepping carefully, Liza made her way across the shallow, dry ditch and climbed the slope up the other side. She peered into the shaded forest but saw no movement. The undergrowth was not as thick as she’d feared, and she took a few steps.

  The air grew cooler beneath the thick canopy of leaves. She waved her hand at a swarm of gnats that buzzed near her face and turned to look back at the road. What am I doing out here? I’m a city girl. I shouldn’t be traipsing through the woods.

  She almost turned back, but something drew her to step beyond her fear.

  The forest grew thicker and cooler as the canopy of trees blocked more of the sky above. As far as she could recall, she’d never been in the woods, yet her surroundings felt familiar, as though inviting her back to something lost. She found herself moving with more confidence than she’d expected.

  Liza heard something snap and stopped at the base of a hill. She tried to determine which direction the sound had come from but was uncertain. She had a strong feeling she was being watched. Her gaze slid over the trees that surrounded her. Nothing moved. A bead of sweat ran down her neck as goosebumps prickled her arm.

  Another sound, this time to her left. She told herself it was just an animal, a small animal, but the feeling of being watched had grown so intense that she felt the urge to run. She glanced behind her and considered returning to the truck when something moved in the shadows. It disappeared behind some brush before she could get a good look at it, but whatever it was had been larger than anything she wanted to face. She turned and scrambled up the hill. It was steeper than she’d thought, and her breathing grew ragged as she grasped small trees to pull herself up.

  “You should not have come here.”

  Liza jumped and slid a few feet backward on the slick layer of leaves that carpeted the hill. She grabbed a slim tree to stop her slide as her eyes darted every which way in search of the source of the voice. She saw the silhouette of a man at the top of the hill. The light behind him cast his face in shadow.

  “You shouldn’t have come. The end draws near because of you.”

  He took two steps toward her. Liza held tight to the tree, keeping it between her and the man. “Who are you? What do you want?” Even as she spoke, she was aware of how familiar the man was, his voice, the way he moved. “Marcas?”

  He took another step closer, the hill now blocking most of the backlight. Liza gasped as he came into view. Scratches and purple bruises covered his face. His blond hair was dirty and matted, and what looked like dried blood covered the front of his shirt.

  “Marcas?” No, Conall. Fallon said it was Conall.

  “The Prince is released. The Old Ones perish, and humanity shakes in terror.” Conall closed his eyes and inhaled a deep breath through his nose. “You must die. It’s the only way to stop it.” His matter-of-fact tone chilled Liza as much as the words themselves.

  Conall started toward her, his movements more fluid than she would have guessed from his appearance. Liza pushed away from the tree and half ran, half slid down the hill.

  Leaves and small sticks wedged their way between her foot and sandal. She tripped and felt her left sandal come off as she rolled the rest of the way to the bottom. Leaves fluttered from her hair as she pulled herself to her feet. At the bottom of the hill, she turned in the direction from which she thought she’d come, but a massive jumble of whip-like branches covered in wicked-looking thorns blocked her path. She spun the other way only to find Conall blocking any chance of escape.

  “You are the one they have been waiting for,” he said. “You shouldn’t have come.”

  The stench of body odor and something rotten hit Liza as he moved closer.

  “You have to die.” There was sadness in his voice. “It’s the only way now.”

  Liza held up a hand between them. “Please, stay away from me. I don’t know who you think I am. I’m not involved in any of this.”

  “The Prince is released. He seeks his Princess.”

  “What does that have to do with me?” Around her, the forest was silent, as though even the birds held their breath in anticipation. “I’m not who you think I am. I’m no one.” She spoke the words in a near whisper. She was no one. If she were to die there, no one would know. No one would care.

  “Conall!”

  Liza spun toward the familiar voice. Marcas stood about thirty feet away, his stance relaxed but wary.

  Conall’s eyes never left Liza. “Keep away, brother. This is none of your business.”

  “Leave her alone, Conall. I don’t know what’s happened to you, but Liza has nothing to do with it.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. She has everything to do with it.” He inhaled another deep breath. “It’s in her blood. Can you smell it?”

  Marcas stepped closer. There was movement from the left, and Fallon emerged from the shadows. Conall’s crazed eyes moved between the three of them.

  “Time is short,” Conall said. “The Prince is free. He will come for her, and then nothing will stop him.” He turned and ran deeper into the forest.

  “Conall, wait,” Fallon called, but he never slowed.

  “Let him go,” Marcas said. He turned to Liza. “What are you doing here?”

  “Brianna called her,” Fallon said.

  “Why?”

  Fallon shrugged. “She’s not sure herself. She just said that Liza had to come.”

  Marcas picked up a large stick and broke it against a tree. “None of this makes any sense.” He turned to Liza, confusion and pain etched on his face. “Conall was right about one thing. You shouldn’t be here.”

  Liza felt her anger rise. “Who are you to tell me what I should and shouldn’t do, Mister I-have-no-family? All you’ve ever done is lie to me.”

  “Where have you been, Marcas?” Fallon interrupted. “No one has seen you in days. We’ve all been worried to death, especially after what happened to Conall.”

  Marcas’s shoulders slumped, and he brushed his fingers through his tangled hair. The anger of a moment ago slipped from his face, replaced by weariness. “I’ve been tracking Conall through the Mist. He’s always one step ahead of me, just out of reach.”

  “He shouldn’t even be in the Mist without you by his side,” Fallon said.

  “Nothing is as it should be. I have to talk to Mom and Dad. We have to find a way to stop Conall.”

  “Stop him from what?”

  Marcas stared off
in the direction his brother had disappeared. “From killing the Old Ones.”

  I don’t believe Conall is involved in the murders.” Ana Finn paced the living room floor, four steps one way, turn, and four back. Liza could almost feel the energy radiating from the woman. In contrast, her husband, Cullen, slouched in a nearby chair as though he had not a care in the world.

  Marcas’s parents appeared to be a study in contrasts. She with dark hair and skin darker than Liza’s own, him with red hair and fair skin. She like a lion pacing in a cage and him kicked back and relaxed. Looking at the two of them, Liza could not help wondering where Marcas and Conall’s blond hair had originated.

  “I know it sounds impossible, but everything points to just that.” Marcas leaned against the wall, arms crossed. His gaze flicked to Liza, but she was unable to read anything in it. He had made it clear already that he did not want her there. His parents had given her a warm enough welcome, though she found it difficult to discern any of these people’s true feelings.

  For at least the tenth time that day, she considered running back to California and leaving this crazy place behind. Small-town murders and the strange family of an ex-boyfriend were way more than she’d bargained for. It was like being in some backwoods suspense novel and having no idea what the plot was or who any of the characters were. And then there was the really weird stuff. She felt completely out of place and still had no idea of what her connection to any of it could be.

  Ana spun to face Marcas. “Conall would never do such a thing. Never. The Old Ones are sacred. He would never harm any of them.”

  “I’m not sure Conall is completely himself. I told you before, something came out with him. Something of Tír na nÓg.”

  “The fae don’t possess people,” Cullen said in a quiet voice lilted by a strong Irish accent.

  Marcas sighed. “I don’t know exactly what I mean, Father. I only know that when I returned from California, Conall was different. No brothers are closer than the two of us, and I’m telling you he was not himself. His actions since that day continue to confirm my suspicions.”