Devil's Shore

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Devil's Shore Page 7

by Bernadette Walsh


  “Orla! This is a surprise,” she said as she opened it. “Please come in. Don’t mind the mess.”

  “Caro, I hate to do this to you, but I have an emergency and need you to come to my house. Now. Is there any way you could get away?” I looked over at Kathy, who stroked a kitten in her lap. “I can’t tell you here, but please, can you help me? I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

  She noticed me looking at Kathy, and nodded. “Conor is out back in his workshop. I’ll have him watch the kids.”

  “Good. Meet me in my car. And Caroline, thanks.”

  She nodded in two nervous jerky movements and then ran around to the back of the house.

  Not fifteen minutes later, my three lads were installed with ham sandwiches in front of the TV in my bedroom upstairs and Caroline and I sat at the kitchen table.

  I lit a cigarette and inhaled. Caroline’s nose twitched in protest to the second hand smoke. Despite our shared Mountain blood, Caroline was a Yank through and through. Well, let’s hope she has enough Irish blood in her to help. I stubbed out the cigarette. “I don’t know where to start. Did your mother ever tell you about Slanaitheoir? About the Devlin women?”

  Caroline’s face went white. “Not my mother. My aunt Dorothy.”

  “Do you believe in the stories? In Slanaitheoir?”

  She twisted her dishwater hair in her fingers, and I stifled a wave of irritation. Her blue eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t. For a long time I didn’t. But now, with Kathy being the way she is... I don’t know. Your mother may have been right.”

  “I’ve discovered that my mother was right about a lot of things. What’s wrong with Kathy?”

  “The doctors don’t know. Some say she’s autistic, some say nonverbal.” Tears streamed down Caroline’s cheeks. “Retarded, even. But I’ve heard her, Orla, alone in her room with that blasted kitten. She laughs, she speaks perfectly. Like an adult, like a grown woman rather than a four-year-old child.”

  “Where did you get the cat?”

  “We didn’t. He was waiting for us when we arrived from Ireland and moved in. He doesn’t go near anyone other than Kathy. At first, I was happy she had something to amuse her, what with the move and being pregnant with the twins. But then I noticed that she smiled only at the kitten, never at her brothers, never at me. Then one day Conor asked if I noticed anything strange about the kitten. I was exhausted, caring for the children, so I told him I hadn’t noticed anything, why? And he said, ‘We’ve had the kitten for a year, and it’s never eaten, never drunk a saucer of milk.’ And it never grew older. It still remained a kitten. That was three years ago, Orla. You saw it yourself. It is still a kitten.”

  “Why don’t you get rid of it?”

  “Don’t you think we’ve tried? We threw it out, locked all the doors and windows and yet we’d find it curled on Kathy’s pillow in the morning. Conor drove it out to Montauk and released it in a state park. The next morning we found it on Kathy’s pillow. And every time I look it straight in the eye, my head– God, my head explodes in pain. Just like...”

  “Like what?”

  “Like it did on the Mountain. Whenever I got near that goat.”

  “Do you think it’s Him?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe it’s my punishment from God. For marrying your cousin so soon after Bobby died.”

  “It’s Slanaitheoir.”

  “Isn’t He back on the Mountain?”

  “We are here, so He is here. He is tied to His children.”

  “But the Five Families’ descendants must number in the thousands by now. Why Kathy? Why us?”

  “Because she is a direct descendant of my mother’s. A direct descendant of the Devlin witches.”

  “Witches?”

  “Look, Caroline, I don’t have time to explain everything to you, but I need to read what is in this Book and I can’t open it by myself. Since you are a descendant of the Five Families and share the blood, I might be able to open it with your help. Will you help me?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I know you don’t like me. You and your mother never did.” I opened my mouth to protest, but she held up her hand. “No, don’t deny it. It’s true and too much has happened to us, to our families, to be anything but honest. I’ll help you. I’ll do anything you ask, but you must do something for me in return.”

  “What do you want?”

  She started to cry. “You have to help Kathy. Banish it or kill it, I don’t care. Get it out of my house and away from my family. Will you do that?”

  “I don’t know if I can, Caroline, but I promise you this, if I have to die trying, I will get this thing out of our lives. For good. Now give me your left hand.”

  I took her left hand in mine and placed it in the center of the book’s cover, in the middle of the ring of thorns. The embossed thorns glowed and a faint hum of magic traveled up my arm. Caroline felt it too, and her eyes widened. Without a word, I slid her hand to the corner of the Book, said a small prayer, and then together the two of us opened it. We opened the Book.

  A cold wind blew through my small kitchen and the pages flipped until they stopped midway through the Book. The top of the page said simply Ar ais. Return to me.

  Caroline, her voice rough from tears, asked, “What now?”

  “Now we take back the Devlin power.”

  Chapter 9

  It was easy enough to lure Simon, Claire and Shari to the beach. I didn’t dare call them in case Simon somehow sensed the lie from my voice, so I texted them.

  I’ve found a book of spells written by my grandmother among my cousin’s belongings. There is a special Samhain levitation spell I’d like to practice with you. I’m afraid Declan might find it in my house so I want to give the book to Simon for safekeeping.

  I knew those thieving bastards, Simon especially, couldn’t resist such a tempting source of familial witchcraft.

  Caroline and I arrived early. Being American, I expected her to stumble over the Irish words of the spells, but she was an apt pupil. The thin strain of the shared blood must have awakened within her, for while she didn’t understand what it was she said, her pronunciation was pitch perfect, with the unique intonation of the Five Families.

  I tried to warn her about Simon’s power, about how I couldn’t assure her of her safety. With a courage I didn’t expect from my meek sister-in-law, Caroline stopped me mid-sentence. “I don’t need to know, Orla. I’m here for you. I’m ready for whatever comes.”

  The three of them arrived together in Simon’s Mercedes. Claire’s face was flushed and Shari’s hair curled in wet tendrils as if she’d just got out of the shower. Her heavy lidded eyes belied what I suspected was another session in Simon’s marble shower. I plastered a bright smile on my lips and forced it to reach my eyes.

  “Hiya! I’m so excited. You’re not going to believe what my cousin found!”

  Simon’s mouth was grim. “Why is she here? We don’t allow outsiders to observe.”

  I flipped my hair and made my voice light. “Oh, we can trust Caroline. Besides, I read through the book and it requires two women to say the spells, in Irish. None of you can speak Irish, can you?”

  “No. We cannot.” Simon stared into Caroline’s face, and she affected her meekest, mildest expression. He nodded. “Fine, she can stay.” His black eyes locked onto mine. “Show us what you’ve got.”

  “Okay, the three of you join hands while I draw a circle in the sand around you.” I forced myself to squeeze Claire’s arm. “This is going to be fun!”

  Claire smiled into my eyes and I felt a small pang as I returned her smile. I drew a circle around them with a scarred oak branch that had appeared in the basement portal. The circle they thought would protect them. The circle I knew would imprison them.

  “Okay. Ready?”

  “Yes,” Simon said. Sudden unease flickered in his eyes. I decided to dial down the bubbly routine. I returned to Caroline and the two of us held the Book in our hands.

  “Mna d
orcha. Raven-haired Women of the Mountain, we call you. Your children call you to this circle,” we chanted.

  A cold wind ripped down from the dunes, the air infused with the smells of the earth. The wind was followed by a line of five women, their black locks trailing behind them in the powerful breeze, their scarlet cloaks glowing with their energy. But Caroline did not appear to see them, neither did Claire or Shari. Simon felt something. He dropped Claire and Shari’s hands. “I want you to stop now.”

  But Caroline and I continued our chant. Caroline did not allow her gaze to leave the pages of the Book.

  The Devlin women formed a single line and moved counter-clockwise along the circle I’d drawn in the sand. Their bare feet left prints that even Claire and Shari could see. Simon tried to walk but his feet appeared cemented to the sand.

  I turned the page and Caroline and I began our second chant: “What ye have stole, return to me. Times three. Times three. Times three. The powers of Mna Dorcha, dark women, return to your child.”

  Caroline and I repeated our request three times. The wind ripped from the dunes behind us and lifted me from my feet into the air. Caroline’s voice didn’t waver as she continued her chant. I continued chanting as well as I floated over the head of my sister-in-law, over the ghostly forms of my raven-haired predecessors and into the center of the circle.

  I turned first to Shari, and my hands lifted of their own accord and hovered above the center of Shari’s chest. Caroline’s words drifted over the roar of the surf and the whipping wind. I called out “Ar ais.” Return to me.

  A rush of warm moist air burst forth from the center of Shari’s chest, as if from the center of her being, and into my waiting open palms. My returning magic traveled up my arm, settling into my chest. I pulled from Shari everything she had stolen from me: her own small kernel of magic, even her quick wit and her poetry. I pulled her essence from her. Her eyes glazed. I closed my fist and Shari collapsed onto the soft waiting sand.

  Claire’s eyes were wet and pleading as I opened my palm. My skulled throbbed as the Devlin magic coursed through my veins once again. I took back all of my magic, draining Claire as she had once drained me, of all her magic, both innate and learned. I sucked from Claire the fluidity of her limbs, her physical grace. The soft lilt of her voice. And then I took from her what she prized most: her beauty. I opened both palms and with all my power pulled the beauty from every cell of her body. Her brilliant blue eyes dulled to a watery blue, her lush lips shriveled into a thin line and her long blond locks turned as gray as the clouds that hovered above us.

  After Claire joined Shari on the sand, I turned to my lover. Unlike Claire, his face was a waxen mask, his black eyes betrayed no emotion. Neither fear nor regret. Hate nor love. Suddenly I was overcome with a fury like I’d never known before. His words, his words echoed in my head. “Don’t be greedy, girls. Save some for me.”

  My outstretched arms almost touched his chest, the chest I had covered with kisses as I betrayed my husband. I thought of his smooth skin beneath my fingers. And I thought of his head between my legs as he stole from me.

  And then I pulled from him all my Devlin magic. As the most skillful witch, he had taken twice the magic the girls had, and my ears buzzed with the sharp intake of that amount of power. I drew every last drop of my magic back into me. And then, as if drinking from a cool waterfall, I felt the essence of his first element, water, flow up my arms. I pulled all of his father’s element and all the magic of the Gardiners into me. Images of white-capped women swinging from the hangman’s scaffold flew into my mind’s eye as I drank from him, the sole surviving male of the Gardiner line. And when all his Gardiner magic was extinguished, his mother’s element, air, as light and sweet as cotton candy, flowed through my fingertips. White billowy clouds of power entered through my veins as I drained him of his essence.

  Once the last vestige of magic left his body I should have closed my fist, but I could not. The sound of him laughing as my body, inert, weak, powerless, lay sprawled on the cold wood floor rang in my ears. His grunts as he’d fucked those two whores beside my broken body echoed in my head. I pulled everything from him. His laughter, his sexy grin, his intellect. I consumed his very reason.

  “Stop, Orla. You’re killing him. You’re killing him!” Caroline tackled me, knocking us both from the circle. Simon’s eyes rolled back in his head and then he too collapsed onto the waiting sand.

  The Devlin witches stopped. They looked at me, their green eyes opaque, reflecting neither approval nor judgment.

  “Enough,” Caroline panted.

  I sat up and shook the sand from my hair. “You’re right. It is finished.” I looked over at the raven-haired woman, Mna dorcha, and said, “Go raibh maith agat. Thank you.”

  They nodded, joined hands and disappeared into a mist.

  Caroline noticed the mist. “What was that? Who was that?”

  “Our saviors.”

  We picked up the Book, walked to Caroline’s minivan and left my treacherous coven mates to their fate.

  * * * *

  I slept for twenty-four hours straight. Declan, convinced by my flushed face I was suffering from the flu, took the day off from work and minded the boys. When I woke, all the magic settled within me, integrated into the cells of my body. There was no buzzing in my head, no pain. I had asked for this power, demanded it, taken it into my very being, and the power must have realized it was now housed in a willing vessel.

  Declan dropped the boys off at school and left hot coffee in the pot. I wrapped his soft flannel robe around me as I sat in my warm kitchen, savoring the hot coffee left by my loving husband. I closed my eyes and appreciated the silence in my home and in my head.

  Cold fingers touched my cheek. I opened my eyes.

  “It worked?”

  “Yes, Granny. It worked. Thank you.”

  Roisin smiled. “’Twas a hard lesson for you to learn, but one I think you won’t soon forget. Trust no outsider with your power. Serve only those who share the blood.”

  Her cheeks were pale, and for the first time it occurred to me how much energy Roisin must expend coming through to me. She looked tired, bone weary.

  “What now, Granny? What is it you want me to do?”

  The doorbell rang. “It is Caroline, love. Let her in and then I will tell you.”

  Caroline wheeled in her twin sons, asleep in their buggy. “Hi,” she whispered. “Is there somewhere I can leave them?” I beckoned her into Declan’s home office then led her into the kitchen.

  Caroline rubbed her arms. “It’s cold in here.”

  “Don’t freak out, we have company.”

  Caroline laughed. “Freak out? After your performance on the beach I’m a little past freaking out.” She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down across from me at the table. “I’m not sitting on anyone, am I? This is worse than Aidan’s imaginary friend.”

  Roisin smiled. “She’s a grand girl, Orla. I don’t know why you don’t like her.”

  “No, you’re fine,” I said, ignoring my grandmother’s commentary. “My grandmother’s sitting in the other chair.”

  The smile left Caroline’s face. “Really? No joke?”

  “No joke.”

  “Has she seen your mother or Bobby? Have you seen them?”

  “She mentioned my mother was, uh, recovering. She didn’t say anything about Bobby. I haven’t seen either of them.” I looked at Roisin.

  Roisin shook her head. “I can’t tell her anything. I’m sorry, but I’m here to help the living, not the dead. We don’t have much time. Do you think seeing me would upset Caroline?”

  “I think she can handle it.”

  The air around Roisin shimmered.

  Caroline gasped. “Oh my God.”

  “It’s okay, Caro. It’s only my Granny.”

  “Your dead Granny.”

  Roisin took Caroline’s hand. “I need you to be strong, Caroline. I need you to be a strong Mountain woman. Can you do t
hat for me? For your daughter?”

  Caroline nodded.

  Roisin smiled and dropped Caroline’s hand. “All right, ladies, bring me the Book.”

  I went down to the basement and brought up the Book. Caroline and Roisin weren’t speaking when I came back to the kitchen; Caroline looked shell shocked and I think Roisin was trying to conserve her energy. “All right, where does it tell us how to kill this thing?”

  Roisin looked sad then. “Ah sure, love, if there was a spell for that in here don’t you think we would’ve used it long ago? No, the best we can hope for in here are some hints, some guidance. First we need to find out how to summon Him.”

  “Well, how did you do it?”

  “I seldom summoned Him, it was He who summoned me. Besides, we had a bond. He had, we had, well...”

  My grandmother looked down. After all this time, her service to Slanaitheoir still shamed her. “It’s all right, Granny. You don’t have to say it. I can’t summon Him because He hasn’t had me.”

  “He’s had you, all right. Through Simon. But you haven’t been initiated as one of His women, so you cannot call him. Not alone, anyway.”

  Roisin instructed me to turn more pages of the Book, since she herself no longer held that power. We’d reached midway through the volume, when she held up her hand. “Stop. Yes, now I remember. This is what I was looking for. The Summoning Ceremony.”

  “The what?”

  “Read it to me now, love. My eyes aren’t the best.”

  On the page was an illustration of three women, enrobed in crimson, holding hands. I translated from the Irish for Caroline’s benefit. “I think basically this says we need three women who share the blood to summon Slanaitheoir. Can the three of us do it?”

  “No, love, I can’t. It must be three living women.”

  “Where are we going to find the third woman here in the States by Friday?”

  “The only woman I can think of is my mother,” Caroline said. “She’s up from Florida and staying with my brother in Westchester.”

  “Will she do it?”

 

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