by AE McKenna
Mal scoffed. “I should’ve known this was too easy.”
“Did you not understand that since the codices are lost, we need a piece of the Blarney to negotiate with my ancestor?” Sythradiafol glared down her nose at Mom and Ray. “You both have disappointed me gravely. You’ve schemed and dallied long enough.”
“How could you not know it wasn’t the real thing, Avalon?” Ray’s skin flushed, the muscles in his neck corded. “You knew what was at stake and you did this? Why have you turned your back on djinnis?”
“I didn’t know there was a different Blarney Stone!” Mom clenched her fists. “Do you think this makes me happy? I’m screwed, too. We were all going to get something out of this, remember?”
I narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean by ‘all,’ Mom?”
Sythradiafol laughed harshly, kicked her dog, and resumed her seat at the tea table. “I should have known Cliodhna wouldn’t allow a piece of the Blarney to be seen by the likes of humans.”
The dog whined and my heart went out to it. I wanted to ensure he was okay, but something told me that was a bad idea. Who’s Cliodhna? By the way Sythradiafol spoke of them, I assumed they were fae as well. Geeze, were all fae snobs?
“I don’t understand.” Mom straightened. “You told me to get the Blarney Stone, so I did.”
“And you failed. The debt now falls to your daughter.” The fae poured a cup of tea that smelled like woodsmoke. “She will collect a piece of the Blarney for me within three days.”
“No!” The whites showed around Mom’s dark irises. “She isn’t a part of this. Let me heal in my bottle, then I’ll collect the actual stone.”
“I would agree, yet here she is already trying to complete a favor on your behalf, fortune djinni.” She sipped the tea, then gently set the cup on its saucer. “I would object no further if I were you.”
The scent of wet wood permeated the mist-coated clearing, and my magic reacted. Fresh wildflowers mingled with the damp forest smell of favors and a weight settled in my stomach, like I’d overeaten and had a food baby.
Sythradiafol lifted a silvery cake knife from beside the swiss roll, a gorgeous utensil I’d put up for display instead of serving dessert, and ran her fingers along the engraved handle. Our commingling magic settled into it. “Our bargain is made.”
There were too many things I wanted to say to Mom that were inappropriate, snarky, and hurtful. A chill crawled through my chest and up my throat. I swallowed, clenching my teeth and trying to resist. A shiver racked through me.
Sythradiafol smiled as she toyed with the cake knife. It was an evil smile that made the chill in my throat seep onto my tongue. “You resist your magic poorly for one who already resembles a woman.”
“I don’t want to help my mother!” I blurted. I felt awful, but as soon as those words left my mouth, the chill melted off my tongue and my chest thawed. Crisis averted.
Mom gasped. “Lucy!”
I couldn’t meet her eyes. I was a terrible daughter for saying it. I knew the situation was dire. I was standing in front of a fae that made me want to pee myself just like her dog did. I couldn’t let my magic take over. What if I’d accidentally cursed her? Hurting Mom’s feelings was far less risky than pissing off a fae.
The fae propped her chin in her hand and leaned toward me. “My, you are an interesting one, aren’t you?”
“My lady,” Mal said as he dropped to one knee, his head bowed. “Will you allow me to assist Lucy?”
The relief punching through my lungs that I’d be safe shamed me. I swayed on unsteady legs, and Mom had to tighten her hold on me. He couldn’t come with me. If I messed this up, it would hurt him just as much as me.
“Why not?” She shrugged. “As long as I get my piece of the Blarney, I care not who assists the babe.”
Mal straightened and I couldn’t tear my gaze from him. The way the lock of hair hung over his brow, the rigid set of his jaw, and how his eyes softened when they met mine.
“You’ll do well not to make me wait,” she said. “Three days, or the horticulturist’s life is forfeited.”
My mouth dropped open, all the words I wanted to say drying up on my tongue. Mags was a green-thumb djinni. Who else could the fae mean other than my grandma?
“No!” Mom shouted. “Let me heal and I’ll go. If I must, I’ll take Lucy with me, but this is my favor. Not theirs.”
“Dapifer, sort this. I refuse to listen to all this screeching.” Sythradiafol stretched her arm out in an arch. The same portal appeared—this time to a comfy sitting room. She tossed the cake knife to Ray. “Oh, and for this mishap, leave this skeleton key in the same cave the fortune djinni hid the counterfeit stone.” She stepped through the portal with her dog trotting after her. It closed with a pop, leaving behind the smell of wet wood.
Mom rounded on me. “I told you to not say anything!” Tears brimmed in her brown eyes, and she’d turned as white as a sheet, making the freckles on her nose pop. “Why can’t you ever be quiet?”
“Clearly it isn’t in my nature.” I folded my arms under my breasts. “Just like honesty isn’t in yours.”
Mom winced; a tear slipped down her cheek. My shoulders slumped. No matter what anyone might say that she deserved what she was getting, making Mom cry broke my heart.
“I was trying to protect you,” Mom mumbled. “I always am.”
“Yet here I am protecting you from whatever favor you got yourself in.” I averted my face to the overcast sky, wondering why this was happening. “Really, Mom? I’m gonna lose my job over this, and you’re acting like it’s no big deal.”
“Because it isn’t. You’re spoiled. I’m looking at a bigger picture.”
I gasped.
“Ladies!” Ray tried to get between us, but he wasn’t successful. “Avalon, you need to let your daughter leave so we can get what’s ours. There’s no time.”
I swiped my hand over the top of my head, wishing I could tear out my hair. “What do you mean you’re looking at a bigger picture? Why do you think you can get everything you want all the time? You’re spoiled—not me.”
“Luce.” Mal dropped a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, we shouldn’t waste time.”
Both Mom and Ray startled like they’d forgotten Mal was around. Which was ridiculous. He’d just agreed to retrieve a piece of the Blarney Stone with me to help my mom complete the favor she’d made with a fae. And she was worried about me doing that! I was so stupid angry, I could’ve spit nails.
Mom grabbed my hand and clasped it to her chest. “Oh, honeybee, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to get you involved in this mess in case something ludicrous like this happened.”
“What was so important?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I’ll tell you later. Just… please. Be careful. And do everything Tanaka says.” She gave him a dirty look. “Don’t you dare get her bottled.”
“Don’t worry about Lucy.” He met my gaze. “She has good instincts.”
I had warm fuzzies all up in my heart, and my stomach flipped. Mom wrapped her arms around me and I hugged her back, breathing in her faint flowery perfume that no longer hid the smell of a piggy bank. I was angry with her, yes, but I’d never stop loving her.
“Be lucky, honeybee,” she whispered.
“I love you, Mom.”
The sound of an acorn crunching underfoot made me pull away from Mom. A new portal shimmered before us, a gateway to a dark and dank place. Ray swallowed heavily, hefting the cake knife in his hand. “Don’t wait. I can’t get around the compulsion to leave the skeleton key in the cave. I guess we’re all getting punished for Penny’s mistake. You two better hurry. People are in precarious positions here.”
Mal stepped beside me and laced his fingers between mine. “You ready for castles?”
“You bet your sweet ass, I am.”
Chapter 12
It was dark and cold, and the built-up pressure in my head from using two fae portals in short succession made everything sound too quiet. L
uce let go of my hand, shaking her head like she had water in both ears.
I summoned a pack of gum and handed her a piece. “Here. Fae portals suck.”
She smiled slightly, unwrapped the piece, and popped it into her mouth. “I know I need to get used to it, but I’m exhausted.”
“Vertigo?”
She nodded, peering out the small opening of the tower we were in. One opening faced Blarney Castle, the other a river. “I suppose it’s too much to ask to turn in for the night?”
“We only have three days. The castle is closed right now, so it’s perfect for us.” I placed a hand on her back and watched the castle. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t take a moment.”
Luce whirled, wrapped her arms around my middle, and rested her head on my shoulder. My stomach backflipped, and I held on, soaking in the sudden warmth engulfing me despite our damp clothes.
“Whoa, hey.” I rubbed her back. “What’s wrong?”
“Just recharging.” She breathed deeply. “You know I read somewhere that if you hug for thirty seconds, it lowers blood pressure and reduces stress.”
I pulled her closer and buried my face in her neck, murmuring, “Let’s take a couple minutes.”
She smelled soft, like a rain-swept wildflower meadow. Her hands stroked my spine, and little by little, tension eased from my shoulders and back. I closed my eyes. Does she still feel the same about me? Yes, she flirted with me, but she also referred to me as her bestie. I’d been in this position before: girl has same interests, we get along, tease each other, but when I moved to the next level, she stayed behind. It was difficult to have a lasting relationship when they overlooked and ignored you. I’d chalked a lot of that up to my blending powers, but sometimes it wasn’t difficult to believe there was something wrong with me—that I was unlikable on a fundamental level.
Lucy saw me. Was this why my feelings progressed? I’d found myself growing more attracted to her the longer we kept in touch over the summer. The image of her in a lacy bra shot a bolt of heat through me and my arms squeezed tighter. I was crushing hard on her, and I didn’t know how to tell her.
“Thanks, Mal. I feel much better.” She stepped back, her hands lingering before she lifted her fist. “You owe me a castle.”
I bumped her fist with mine. “Oh, that’s not fair. Blarney Castle is a husk.”
“A castle is a castle. Let’s go.”
We stepped out onto the walkway and headed toward the castle. I wasn’t lying when I said it was a husk. The castle itself was unimpressive. One tall block butted against a shorter block, with four windows marking each floor. The top of the parapet had steel safety bars for people to kiss the Blarney. On the steel grate door was a sign announcing the stone was absent for restoration. Since the steel door and the wooden door had gaps and we were alone, there was no need to pick the lock. I shifted to smoke and slid between the crevices with Luce right behind me. She wandered into the first room, taking pictures of empty space, then we climbed well-worn steps to the next floor.
She led the way down skinny halls with sharp-peaked ceilings. “You know, I’ve been thinking about a couple of things.”
“What’s that?” I tucked my hands in my pockets, following her.
“Ray.” She glanced at me. “You think we can get him to help us? What’s a dapifer, anyway?”
“A steward. How would we get him to switch loyalties?”
“Give him his wife.” She ducked into an empty room with steel grating covering tall, arched windows. She examined everything. Not that there was much to see. There wasn’t a replicated bedroom or kitchen, no placards explaining what the room was used for, or mannequins dressed in period clothing mimicking chores. This room had grooves on the floor, and that was it.
I leaned against the doorway, watching her exploration. Blarney might be a husk, but she was enjoying herself. I scuffed my hiking boot on the floor. “How would we do that? Sythradiafol has her bottle.”
She stepped past me and headed for the next set of stairs up. “I’m not sure, but I want to help his wife.”
“I know you do.”
We meandered along the parapets lined in steel safety railings. Some of her laughter was too loud, her smiles overbright. I was certain she was hiding her real feelings. If I still had the link to her thoughts, I was sure I’d hear her panicked thoughts over this entire situation. Instead, Lucy paused, tugged me to her side, our cheeks pressed together, and we took a selfie. I can’t say it was unexpected, but her flushed cheeks were surprising. I hoped she wasn’t coming down with a fever; there was no reason for her reddened face. We stopped in front of the rigging for tourists to kiss the Blarney Stone. It had bars for the person to grab on, and a grate to block their fall.
“Are you going to return the Blarney Stone tonight?” she asked.
“No, it’s bureau protocol to inspect it for foul magic before it can be returned, even if I’m positive it wasn’t tampered with.” I gestured at the opening. “I’ll hold you if you want to kiss the stone.”
She laughed nervously. “But it’s empty.”
“I meant going through the motion.”
She brightened. “Oh, sure!”
She sat with her back facing the wall. I gripped her hips while she leaned back, grabbed the bars, and I lowered her down to the void of space.
“This is how you’d kiss the stone,” I said.
“I can’t believe people actually kissed it, though. It was all black and shiny.”
“People are superstitious.” I pulled her back up and helped her to her feet. I leaned against the wall, looking over the estate.
“How is it a fake Blarney Stone?” Her arm brushed mine as she soaked in the view. “It has genuine power. I itched to touch it.”
I nodded. “It’s a natural phenomenon. Being imbued with so many human emotions over decades, it’s a powerful one at that. Still, Sythradiafol wanted nothing to do with it.”
“We only have three days before she kills Mags.” She stared at her hands, her chin crumpling. “I wish she’d given us a clue to what the real one looked like or where we could find it. I don’t even know where to start.”
“Sending us here lets us know the real one is on the grounds, at least.” I wrapped my arm around her waist. “We just have to search here. I’m sure we’ll find it.”
Her shoulders lifted with the huge inhale through her nose as she put on a brave face. “Right. What else is Blarney famous for?” She retrieved her phone and pulled up the castle on Google. “Poison gardens, the mansion, and a druid walk.”
“I think the mansion is too new to the estate to hold bearing for the real Blarney Stone to be inside.”
Luce tucked her phone away. “Maybe it’s not a stone at all.”
I sucked in a breath. “She kept saying a ‘piece of the Blarney,’ didn’t she?”
“She did.” She headed for the back stairs, quickly descending. “Or maybe it’s a really big rock.”
“Anything’s possible. Europe, Africa, and Asia were heavily influenced by the fae in the dark ages.”
We exited the castle and headed for the poison garden since it was adjacent. Luce wandered beside me with her hands clasped behind her back. While the plants were well-cared for and deadly, nothing in the garden emanated magic.
“I want to touch everything.” She grinned. “Believe me, I know better.”
I chuckled and led her out of the garden, following the signs to the druid's walk. The night air was cool, perfect sweatshirt weather. The trees grew around the path, and while some were barren, they still gave a secluded hushed feeling. Leaves crunched under our feet and shoots of moonlight speared the ground.
“What did you think of your first castle?” I asked.
She grinned, moonshine illuminating her pale blue eyes. “It was pretty awesome. Next castle needs to have cannons, though.”
I laughed. “I’ll make sure of it.”
“I’m counting on you.” She looped her arm through min
e.
“Lucy, I need to talk to you about your mom.”
She sighed.
“It’s bad.”
“I know.” She leaned her head against my shoulder. “I can’t ask you to promise not to arrest her, and I certainly can’t promise she won’t do something like this again… I just… I just don’t want her to go.”
“I can’t protect both of you from this,” I whispered. “I wish I could, but I hate the idea of lying to my boss. If I have to choose, I’ll only protect you.”
“You won’t have to choose unless the whole bureau office shows up out of nowhere.” The wind rustled the leaves, scattering them around our feet. Her teeth chattered and the alluring aroma of wildflowers wafted from her. “Man, I wish I had a better coat with me.”
I sighed inwardly. She was wrong. I’d still have to choose eventually, and right now, I couldn’t say what I wanted more: My job or her.
A brick of cheese appeared in her hands, and my stomach grumbled. I was certain it was the same brick her bottle had been pushing in her hands since earlier today. Or was it yesterday?
Luce laughed and a cheese knife appeared in her other hand. She sliced a small wedge off and gave it to me. “Diane says we gotta eat, so we may as well. We can multitask, right? I feel a little guilty enjoying this while my family is still… in trouble.”
“You’d be pretty stressed if all you focused on was the bad and never allowed yourself to feel joy.” I took the cheese. “If we don’t find anything on this walk, we’ll explore the mansion. If that doesn’t pan out, then I’ll call the bureau.”
“Alright.” She nodded. “That sounds like a plan.”
We munched and strolled, Lucy pointing out spots she thought were cute: a small garden arranged to look magical, the witch’s kitchen, the witches’ stone. She was enjoying herself. We came upon an archway made of branches with red-yellow-orange leaves. Multi-colored lights blipped in and out. This was a wild place, and I thought those lights must be pixies. I was too far away to get a look at them.
Lucy stored the rest of the cheese and jogged ahead, spinning around under the arching branches. She laughed. “This is so awesome! This whole walk is something eleven-year-old me would go nuts over. If I didn’t know magic was real, I’d believe it now.”