Like a woodland creature… “I know what to do. I don’t think it’s your father we need. I think it’s Emmet.”
“Yer brother? Why?”
“You’ll see when you bring him back. Go get him. I’ll wait here. Last I saw him, he was at the training rings with Dillan and Calum.”
“Do ye think it’ll frighten her if I transport?”
“Maybe, although fae species are more magical than we are so maybe not. I don’t know.”
“Okay, I’ll step away and be right back. Are ye sure yer all right to stay?”
“Are you worried about my safety or me causing trouble while you’re gone?”
“Both, actually, but more the latter.”
I nod and ease back a step before lowering myself to sit on my knees. “Does she look afraid of me sitting here?”
He looks from where the fae girl is to me and back again. “I don’t think so.”
“Then I won’t move a muscle until you get back. I promise I won’t cause any trouble.”
“Okay, I’ll be right back.”
Once Sloan backs away and teleports, I sit quietly and smile at where I think the girl is. “It’s okay. Sloan’s a good guy. He’ll figure out how to help you. He’s good that way.”
“Talking to yerself, Cumhaill?”
I don’t turn to acknowledge Ciara. I’ve seen enough of her to last a lifetime and I don’t want to spook the fae girl. I hope the ailing fae is accustomed to Ciara’s venom. This is her family grove, after all.
“Ye know that’s a sign of insanity in some circles.”
“So is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. You haven’t learned yet not to battle wills with me. You always end up with egg on yer face.”
“If you think so.”
I shrug. “I know so.”
“Cumhaill. What a farce ye are. Do ye not realize yer the laughingstock of the Nine Families?”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Do you think I made it through grade school caring what every bully and loser thinks? Call me insane or a laughingstock, or my brothers call me the Queen of Amazeballs. You can call me that, if you like.”
She steps around to loom over me and her eyes widen. “What the fuck have ye done to yerself?”
I sigh and tug down the sleeves of my sweatshirt. The whole bark arms and tats thing is getting old. “I’m trying out a new look. I’m going for urban druid biker. What do you think? Too cutting edge?”
“Yer seriously delusional. Ye’ve got half the breeding and none of the talent the rest of the heirs have, and ye still think yer something special. He’s going to tire of yer strange and unusual act, ye know?”
I giggle, the dawning of her venom becoming so clear. “Seriously? Is that what this is about? You think I’m stealing your sunshine with Sloan? Oh, honey, you overestimate your appeal. Sloan’s a free agent. If he wants you for another go-around, there’s nothing cock-blocking him. I told you before. We’re friends.”
“And I told ye before ye don’t fool me.”
I chuckle. “Okeedokee then. I guess you’ve figured me out. Now, if you don’t mind… I don’t know for sure—because I can’t see behind the faery glass of the hidden folk—but I’m pretty sure you’re scaring the natives. You should deprive me of your company and go.”
“Go? This is my house. Yer the one who should go.”
I shrug. “Can’t. I promised Sloan I wouldn’t move before he poofed away. He’ll be back though. Are you sure you want to be here when he arrives? Your hair’s a bit wind-blown, and you have something in your teeth.”
Ciara launches at me the same moment Emmet and Sloan materialize beside her. Sloan grabs her wrist and yanks her back from her assault.
He physically lifts her off her feet to keep her from coming at me and scowls at me. “And ye wonder why I thought ye’d get into trouble.”
“She started it. And hey, I didn’t move a muscle.”
Sloan rolls his eyes and sets Ciara down to point at the house. “Yer dismissed.”
“Fuck off, Sloan.” When she notices my brother, her entire demeanor changes. She smiles and bats those long chestnut lashes. “Och, hello, Emmet. What’s the craic? What have ye been up to on yer holiday?”
Emmet blinks at the mercurial transition. “Not much. I touched a naked man last night, and now I’m juiced up and super smart. What’s up with you?”
She shakes her head. “I came to invite Sloan and yer bitch sister to the heir’s event tomorrow night for Mabon. It’s a tradition for the autumn equinox that we assist the elders with the rituals during the day and go out for rounds after. Yer as much an heir as she is and much more interesting. Care for a night out with yer peers?”
“You call my sister a bitch and in the same breath ask me if I want to spend time with you? That would be a big fat no.” He steps around Ciara and smiles at me. “Hey Fi, making friends? I can’t take you anywhere, can I?”
I chuckle. “Ciara’s green-eyed monster escaped. She thinks Sloan wants to hakuna-my-tatas and I’m the only thing keeping the two of them from the big reunion scene at the end of their enemies to lovers romance.”
Emmet snorts. “And in other news, shouldn’t we focus on the little fae girl Sloan saw?”
“What fae girl?” Ciara asks.
“Remember when I asked you to leave because you were scaring the natives? Who did you think I was talking about?”
Ciara runs her French-manicured fingers through her silky brown hair and scowls. “I never know what the feck yer talking about. Yer insane and spew asinine nonsense.”
I ignore the jibe and check in with Sloan. “Is she still there? Is she okay?”
Sloan nods. “Seems so. I did what ye asked and fetched Emmet. How do ye think he and I can help her?”
“After witnessing Emmet speak squirrel this afternoon, I’m betting he also speaks woodland fae. Go ahead. Hold his hand so he can see and hear her too. She seemed quite intent on telling us something. I’d bet it’s important.”
Sloan holds out his hand, and Emmet sucks in a gasp. “First I touch a nakey man, and now the tall, dark, and dangerous Sloan Mackenzie wants to hold my hand. Ireland is making me reevaluate things I thought I knew about myself.”
I snort. “Emmet, focus.”
“Family meeting,” I call as Sloan, Emmet, and I portal into Gran’s kitchen a half-hour later. “We have a news update, and it’s time-sensitive. Gran, where is everyone?”
Gran turns from the stove and points her wooden spoon toward the living room. “They’re in watching the football match on the telly.”
I turn on my heel, and the three of us head into the sunken room with a giant tree growing up and through the thatched roof above. Everyone is lounging around watching the game, Meggie is climbing Calum, and Jackson is coloring pictures with Granda on the side table.
“News. Big bad news, everybody. We need an adult moment to discuss a few fae findings without the impressionable minds listening in.”
Kinu gets up and grabs Meg from on top of Calum’s curly mop of black hair. “We’ll get our pajamas on.”
“No supper?” Jackson looks stricken.
Da chuckles. “Och, ye can still have supper in yer pajamas, wee man. It’ll be a fun holiday thing. Now, off ye go with yer mam for a bit.”
When the room is clear, all eyes fall on us, and I start from the top: the bone ring wanting Sloan, delivering the remedy to the Doyle grove, Sloan seeing the little fae girl curled up on the fir, the woodland chatter, getting Emmet…
“And ye understood her?” Granda asks.
Emmet nods. “Yeah, I’m thinking of changing my name to Rosetta…Rosetta Stone. If I say it like Bond, do you think it will work for me?”
“Emmet.” Da raises a hand toward Granda, who looks like he might need to take a breath. “Tell us about understanding the wee girl.”
“Yeah, right. As soon as she opened her mouth, I could speak brunaidh.”
“What’s
a brunaidh?” Calum asks.
“What ye’d know as a brownie,” Da responds.
“You speak brownies? What does that mean?” Dillan’s eyes pop wide, and he sits forward. “I bet I can speak milkshake. How’d you figure this out?”
“Not the brownies you eat, eejit.” Da pinches the bridge of his nose and growls. “Brownies the wee folk.”
Dillan sits up straighter. “That makes more sense but is far less interesting. Go on.”
Emmet nods. “Pip is a sweet little thing, wide eyes, little antennae… Anyway, Sloan thought she was hurt, but she’s sick and upset because her mate is one of the hidden folk taken by the Black Dog assholes at the Doyle grove.”
“That’s sad, but how is that big news?”
“Because mated brownies can share sight. Pip told me she sees a big cauldron set up outside with wood stacked beneath. The men who took her mate don’t intend to imprison and siphon off their powers. They intend to boil the bodies of the fae to make a stock out of them. They plan to perform a Mabon ritual tomorrow night and consume them.”
“Of all the chaotic evil horrors,” Granda exclaims.
I agree, wholeheartedly. “It’s disgusting. We have to assume they have all the fae folk from the Perry grove as well as those they were able to gather from the Doyle grove.”
“We have to stop them,” Emmet declares. “I promised Pip we’d find them before they kill her mate.”
“Does she know where they are?” Da asks.
“I questioned her like any witness, sights, sounds, smells…the only thing she could say for sure is that it’s a clearing in the woods with an open sky above.”
Granda’s brow pinches tight. “That’s no help. If they have a wayfarer or a portal caster, that could be anywhere.”
“Do mated brownies have a maximum distance for their shared sight?” Dillan asks. “Knowing their range might give us a search radius if there’s a limit.”
“I’ll search for that.” Granda heads off toward his office.
“What about other creatures in the forest?” Da asks. “If the brownie was willing to speak to you two, maybe there are others who might.”
“You want us to go back, Da?” Emmet asks.
“I do. Grab something to fill yer bellies, then see what more ye can find out. In the meantime, we have twenty-four hours to pinpoint the location of the forest clearing. Dillan, pull up yer hood. We’re going to check out the Perry grove. Maybe ye’ll be able to sense something that can help.”
Dillan bounds off the couch and has his hood up in a flash. “Ready when you are.”
I laugh. Yeah, we’re never getting that cloak off him.
Chapter Ten
As it turns out, even with all of Granda’s texts, there is no recorded information on the distance at which mated brownies can still use their shared sight. When he asks around with the other elders, none of them know a range either. There’s also nothing in either the Doyle grove or the Perry grove that any of my cop brothers or father can find that pinpoints where the ritual fae boiling might take place.
With energies raw and frustration high, we spend the morning hanging on the back lawn, working on hand-to-hand and brainstorming possible courses of action.
“What about Bruin doing an aerial search today?” Emmet asks. “Maybe he’d get lucky. I’m sure a huge cauldron set over a pyre in the middle of a forest clearing won’t be hard to spot from above.”
I sigh. “What if it’s in Cork? Or Scotland? Or British Columbia? No. That exhausts one of our resources and sends him off when we might need him.”
I’m more than a resource, Red.
I know you are, buddy. But you get my point, right?
I do. I’m just itchin’ to do something. I want to get these bastards and stop them before they slaughter more fae.
You and me both, Bear.
“Druids are to remain neutral.” Da swings his staff while muttering a rant. “The world is in balance when the life and death process is respected. It’s harmonic. These men…these mythical Black Dog fuckers are a blight on nature. Abhorrent. Even when I left the Order behind, I never disrespected it. My beliefs were still rooted in my teachings.”
Aiden and Dillan quit hand-to-hand and call their blades to face off against one another. Aiden’s majestic curved blade against Dillan’s two daggers. Since yesterday, the sparring has become more confident and the hits and swings truer to battle.
I’d worry more if I didn’t know we downloaded a proficiency well beyond our experience. Some people study magic, some are given spells by their deities, some by an evil source, and some inherently know.
I don’t know if Fionn mac Cumhaill can be considered a deity, but his magic certainly fast-tracked our little band of merry men into being a force to be reckoned with.
“Ha.” Dillan laughs as his dagger clunks against Aiden’s ironwood buckler. “Your tiny saucer saved you there.”
The round disc on Aiden’s defensive arm isn’t big enough to be used as a dinner plate, but it’s supposed to keep him safe. “Supposed to” might be the wrong phrase since Aiden uses the guard like a pro and bats away Dillan’s thrusts with his left as he swings with his right.
“You think you can beat me, little brother?” Aiden smiles as the two of them dance across the grass. “Prepare to be pwned.”
When Sloan poofs in, I give up worrying about them and head over to say hello. “Tell me you’ve got good news. You didn’t happen to spot a forest clearing genocide site on your way over, did you?”
Sloan shakes his head and waves for Emmet to join us. “No, but I had a thought.”
“Hey, whassup?” Emmet holds up a fist and Sloan gives him a bump. The standard greeting of my brothers is becoming second nature with him now.
Oh, they grow up so fast.
“I was lyin’ in bed this mornin’, thinkin’ about the wee brownie girl—”
“Dude, not cool,” Emmet interrupts.
Sloan rolls his eyes. “Not like that, ye creeper. I was wonderin’ how we might still figure out the maximum range for their shared sight.”
“And how do we do that without knowing where her mate is?” I ask.
“Well, ye mentioned that ye’d seen a similar creature in the grove here the night the fae tree lady came to speak with ye. It got me to thinkin’, what about another brownie couple helpin’ us? Perhaps we can still narrow down the field. If Emmet can convince them, I can portal one of the mates to a great distance, then incrementally closer locations until we get an idea what we’re dealin’ with.”
Emmet smiles. “I like it. It would be better if we repeat the experiment with two or three other couples, to rule out personal strengths and focus strictly on species ability.”
“Agreed. So, will ye come with me into Lugh’s and Lara’s grove and see what we can find out?”
I squeeze Sloan’s arm. “Good one, Mackenzie. If this works, you get an Oh! Henry bar.”
I’ve walked through the trees of my grandparents’ grove dozens of times over the past four months, but never saw the hidden splendor of what remained veiled from my mundane sight—until now. With Sloan’s bone ring in place and Emmet and I holding his hands, the three of us are blessed to see the unseen behind the faery glass.
“Wow.” I blink up at the little hummingbird people and the glittering silver and gold webs draping from tree to tree. There are rabbits with brilliant blue iridescent wings and kaleidoscope-patterned butterfly creatures with wide eyes and knowing smiles.
“Sooo cool. The fae realm smells like newly spun cotton candy.” A memory flashes in my mind of being at the Markham Country Fair as a kid and Mam and Da getting us all a sugary treat for the hayride. The sun was warm on our faces, and I sat on one of the horses after to get my picture taken.
Emmet draws a long inhale and chuckles. “Your nose is broken, Fi. It smells exactly like Mam’s freshly-baked cookies. Mmm, with lots of vanilla. I remember sitting on the kitchen floor with you in your bassinet and Ma
m baking. It smelled exactly like this.”
Sloan lifts his chin and draws a deep breath. “I get warm apple cider with cinnamon.” He doesn’t share a memory triggered, but I’m pretty sure I already know what it is. He told me that the first time he met Gran, she made him warm apple cider and they had a tea party with the animals in her garden.
“So, I guess it’s different for each of us because it’s our innermost comfort smell?”
Emmet smiles at me. “I’ll buy that.”
Sloan nods. “Ye might be right.”
Movement deeper into the woods brings us face-to-face with the wide-eyed antennae girl I met the other night. “Okay, Em. You’re up, bro. Be your normal charming self.”
Still holding Sloan’s hand, Emmet settles on his knees on the ground. When he begins chattering, I soon give up trying to understand what he’s saying and focus on the reaction of the fae folk he’s speaking to.
I’m not the best at reading body language and facial expressions and when you complicate that by changing the person’s species, I’m at a loss. If I am to guess, I’d say she doesn’t want to. When she turns and walks into the forest, I’m sure.
Definitely no.
“She said yes. She’s off to get her mate. Then we’ll get started.”
Ha! So much for my impressions. “That’s great. I’ve been thinking. Sloan, take one of them somewhere far but not too far—somewhere you know the distance from here.”
“I’ll take him home to my place.”
Huh. I’ve been to the Mackenzie’s Stonecrest Castle, but Sloan poofed us there when I was unconscious. I don’t actually know where it is. “How far is that?”
“Two and a half hours drive. We’re up in Galway.”
Wow. Farther than I thought. I guess if Sloan’s family and mine weren’t part of the Ancient Order of Druids, we never would’ve crossed paths.
“Why do you suddenly look so sad, Cumhaill? It’s only a blink with my abilities.”
“Sorry, my mind wandered. Yeah, take Mr. Brownie to your place, then phone me. Emmet can talk to Mrs. Brownie, and we can let you know if she sees anything.”
A Sacred Grove (Chronicles of an Urban Druid Book 2) Page 9