“That’s right,” Granda concurs. “Nine sites protected from ill intent. Something along the lines of a Narithmore Shield but without restricting the passage of those who mean no harm and belong there.”
“And when do you want these wards put into place?”
“Immediately,” Granda says. “When we find the ritual site, we’ll move in hard. If all goes as planned, we’ll find these bastards before they can utilize the powers of the fae they’ve taken. If they lose that source, we don’t want them able to simply go back and take others.”
“But the sacred groves of the elders of the Order aren’t the only place where fae dwell, Lugh. What stops these men from finding another way behind the faery glass to continue their evil? This is a temporary solution at best.”
Granda drops his chin. “It may well be, but one of our groves provides the home for hundreds of members of dozens of species. These men know how to access them. We’ll not stop our hunt to take them down. Warding the groves is only one protective step.”
Moira considers that for a moment. “Very well, I’ll speak to my coven and we’ll discuss terms.”
Granda’s brow tightens. “Ye want to negotiate payouts when the well-being of nature’s creatures are in peril?”
Moira laughs, and the sound rings through the air like chimes of an enchanted bell. I sit up straighter, my back tingling and starting to itch. “Still the same oul bleedin’ heart, Lugh. The world we live in isn’t about right and wrong, my darlin’ man. It’s about leverage and need. The druids need a favor. That gives my coven the leverage to make demands. It’s simply business.”
From where I’m sitting on the arm of the club chair, I see Da’s expression darken. He doesn’t like the sound of this. Neither does Sloan. The two of them share the same worried scowls. What’s the witch up to? What does she want? And why is my Fianna shield reacting to what she’s saying?
Moira steps outside to use her phone, and Da shakes his head when several of us open our mouths to speak. Not now. Got it. Before someone fills in the silence, I need to get my point out. So far my shield has protected me from poisonings and hexes, but maybe something Granda’s ex said is triggering it now.
“Funny thing,” I say matter-of-factly. “The tattoo on my back got super itchy just now. I think something I’ve recently been exposed to might be irritating it.”
Granda frowns. “When did that start, mo chroi?”
“When we were being taught the finer points of good business. Strange, huh?”
“Strange, indeed,” Da agrees.
Granda runs a hand over the back of his neck and exhales. “Let me know if it gets any worse. If so, maybe ye’ll need to excuse yerself to put a balm on it or something.”
Granda’s phone rings and he checks the ID of the caller. “Tell me they found something.” When his lips tighten into a fine line, we know they haven’t. “Och, well, keep them searchin’. Ye got the parameters I sent? Good. Dempsey hasn’t gotten back to me, but—”
Bruin materializes in the middle of the living room. “I found it.”
“Hold on, Malcolm. We’ve got something.”
Da launches off the couch and to his feet. “Where? Is there a landmark or town nearby ye can direct us to, Bear?”
“Och, no need. Ye’ll know where, I’m sure.”
“You were searching at Killarney National Park, right?” I hurry over to the atlas page where we’ve marked out the radius of our search range. “Was it in there?”
“Almost.” Bear lumbers forward and rises to set his front paws on the table. “On the north end of the park, above the body of water, there’s a stone tower of a fifteenth-century fortress. Do ye know it?”
Sloan runs his finger over that section of the map and stops. “That has to be Ross Castle. It’s right where yer describing, Bear.”
“Have you been there?” I hope beyond hope he has. Sloan can’t poof anywhere willy-nilly. He has to have been someplace before to be able to set his internal navigation GPS to get him back there.
“I have. A couple of school trips in my younger years. There’s the castle proper and a great deal of forested area surrounding it.”
“There’s a jut of land that goes out into the water. It’s away from the castle but still close. The fae clearing is there.”
Da nods, and my brothers all jump up and run to get their boots on. “How many of us can ye take at once, son?”
Sloan looks at us. “Seven grown adults on one go isn’t great—”
“Six,” Granda says. “I can’t leave with Moira here thinkin’ she’s gonna put the screws to the druids. We can’t afford to vex her, and Lara won’t take it well either.”
“Take Da and the boys, then come back for Granda and me. I have to pee, and my Spidey-senses are telling me I need to be here for the witch negotiations.”
Sloan nods. “Five is doable. I’ll take them, get situated, and be back for you two in a flash.”
Granda nods. “Go. I’ll spread the word to the Perry boys and Dempsey Flanagan. Assess the opposing force and let me know if we need more bodies for the fight. It’s the Autumn Equinox, but I’ll try to connect with the others if I can.”
“Will do.”
After everything had moved painfully slow over the past twenty-four hours, Bruin finding the ritual site throws all of us into fast-forward. I run to the loo, and on my way back to the living room, I grab my casting stones out of my bag.
When Moira steps back inside, she’s wearing a Cheshire grin and takes a seat in the sage green club chair I was in earlier. “Where did everyone go? Was it something I said?”
I ignore the coy seductive tone in her voice, mesmerized by something far more interesting. The closer I study her, the blurrier she becomes. Weird.
“I spoke with my sisters,” she says. “Like me, they are happy to be of service.”
“And you mentioned a cost?” Granda snaps.
“Och, don’t be like that, Lugh. We have history. I want to help—honestly, I do—but it’s not only me who weighs in on the magic contracts we accept. I’m in a coven. There is a process.”
I rub my fingers over my eyes and stand. My back feels like ants are crawling under my flesh.
It’s making me squirmy.
“All right, Fi?” Granda casts me a concerned gaze.
“It’s my itchy back. It’s getting very uncomfortable. Where are the healing stones?”
“Here, luv.” Gran joins us. “Yer back’s botherin’ ye, is it?”
“Uh-huh. Remember that time Sloan and I went to Ardfert Cathedral, and I got that bad rash? It feels similar to that.”
Gran looks at me, and I’m thankful she’s such a quick wit because she doesn’t miss a beat. “Och, like that, is it? Well, then, let’s see what we can do to address the problem.”
“Sorry about this,” I say to Moira. “You two go about your business. Don’t mind us.”
Gran pulls a woven basket off the shelf by the television and takes it to the table where Jackson and Granda worked on coloring earlier. She also sets a pen and paper down beside my hand. “Now, take the amethyst. We’ll start ye off with that for healing.”
I pick up the pen and write. There’s something freaky about her. An illusion or spell I can almost see through. My shield is going crazy.
Gran nods and passes her hand over the page, rendering it blank once more. “Keep the amethyst, and I’ll give ye a few more that I want ye to concentrate on.”
I hold my palm open, and Gran adds hematite, black tourmaline, a beautiful multicolored fluorite, and smokey quartz. If I’m not mistaken, these are the stones you’d find in an empath starter kit.
Cutting negativity, mind clarity, seeing beyond the illusion. Yeah, I see what she’s doing here.
“Now, luv, take a seat and focus. If ye have the peridot that yer friend Patty gave ye, it wouldn’t be bad to hold that one as well for luck and a bit of extra oomph.”
Sloan flashes back into the living room and
looks from Granda and Moira talking to Gran and me. “What did I miss?”
“I’m glad you’re here.” I reach forward. “Can you please hold my hand? I don’t feel well.”
Sloan reaches to meet my outstretched hand but isn’t as quick to pick up my meaning as Gran was. His first instinct goes straight to being alarmed for me. Sweet. I run my thumb over his bone ring—the ring that allows him to see the unseen.
“Focus, surly.” I tap the ring on his middle finger. “I need your insight as to what’s bothering me.”
Sloan laces his fingers with mine, and I see the dawning as his confusion clears. I close my free hand around the gemstones and let the negativity and deception melt away.
I feel Sloan’s energy as he casts a spell. Like a curtain lifting, our vision is no longer clouded by the illusion Moira is projecting.
The mirage of her endless beauty drains away, and we’re in the presence of an average-looking woman with thinning hair and a dark and haunted aura.
She hasn’t noticed that her lies have been stripped away, so we can hear the persuasion spell working its magic on Granda when she speaks.
She wants an ancient chalice called the Narstina Cup from the shrine of the Order—hammered gold, bejeweled, and with a wide foot with Celtic engravings carved into it. A historical trinket, she calls it, but it’s much more than that to the witches. Her longing for the chalice is ugly and dark and makes me want to push her away from Granda.
Sloan must feel the same way because he steps forward, grabs the carpetbag and the woman, and flashes away. A moment later, he flashes back looking furious.
“What the hell is this?” Granda snaps.
“That witch was ensnarin’ ye, Lugh. That’s what was settin’ off Fi’s mark. The witches want a chalice from the shrine, but not as a token payment for their services. The woman has foul and dark plans for the thing and was goin’ to turn the groves’ wards to her advantage.”
“Yer sure of this?” Granda asks.
I nod and set Gran’s gemstones back in the basket, keeping only my peridot. “We’re sure. Gran’s help with the gemstones, my shield’s warning, and Sloan’s enchanted fae ring merged to show us the truth. That woman is all kinds of nasty, Granda.”
Granda nods and looks sad. “Well, I told ye this afternoon, Lara, that she wouldn’t be the same woman she was forty years ago, and I guess I proved myself right. Too bad, though. I wanted to protect the other groves.”
Gran walks into Granda’s open arms and kisses his cheek. “Yer idea to utilize another sect of magic is a good one. We’ll revisit that and look for a better choice than Moira Morrigan and her duplicitous coven.”
“What did ye do with her, son?” Granda asks.
“Och, I dumped her on her front stoop and told her we saw through her deceptions. I don’t think she’ll be contacting you again anytime soon.”
With Moira gone, Granda and Sloan do a quick magical sweep from the front door into the living room in case the witch left any kind of hex bags, tracking spells, or listening devices. The area is clean.
“She likely didn’t think she’d need anything beyond her beguiling spell.” Gran picks up the empty pastry plates. “Good one, Fiona. Ye saw through the oul hag.”
As much as I don’t like the idea that Granda was being manipulated, I’m glad Gran is vindicated in her mistrust of the woman and that Granda won’t trust his old flame any time soon—if ever.
“Be careful, Fi.” Kinu comes out from putting the monkeys to bed. “Safe home to you all.”
I nod and put my hand out to connect with Sloan and Granda. “Hopefully, this won’t take long, and we’ll have the fae safe home to their mates as well.”
Sloan waits until both Granda and I nod, then he flashes us to join up with the others.
Chapter Twelve
The gray skies of night are encroaching on the horizon by the time Sloan, Granda, and I sneak into position behind the ritual site. Da has my brothers, the Perry boys, and Bruin far enough away that they won’t be detected, but close enough that we can see and hear the conversations of the cloaked minions of the Barghest, a.k.a. the Black Dog.
“It sounds like there are a lot of them.” I look at Da. “Like, a lot. How outnumbered are we?”
Da frowns. “Very. Any chance ye can call in a backup team? I figure there’s close to forty men out there. Bruin’s worth at least five in a fight, but that still leaves us heavily outnumbered.”
Granda looks at the nine of us and frowns. “It’s the Autumn Equinox. I reached out, but most of the Nine Families have private celebrations and don’t have cell phones or technology with them for their hours of offerings.”
“That’s okay.” Dillan shrugs and adjusts the hood of his cloak. “We’ve got this. If Bruin’s worth five warriors, that means we’re fifteen against forty. With our Fianna upgrades, I think we’re good.”
I blink at him. “And this is why you failed math. Fifteen against forty is not good.”
The murmur of male voices in the distance falls to a hush, and a single voice breaks through the strengthening darkness.
Goddess of Flame, of hearth and ember,
God of Fire, of blazing timber,
Crackle of hazel, ash, and lime,
Heat the cauldron to boil. It’s time.
“They’re lighting the fire,” Emmet says. “I don’t suppose it’s customary to enjoy a couple of rounds of S’mores before ritual killings, is it?”
Da frowns. “Afraid not. We’re out of time.”
Sloan looks at his watch. “I can get us another seven or so. Be right back.”
I realize I’m touching his arm too late. I’m portaled with him into a pub. No one gives us a glance when we appear in the center of a busy establishment, so I guess it’s a magic people pub.
“What the fuck did ye do, Cumhaill?” Sloan turns on me while looking green. “Have ye any idea how dangerous it is to tag a ride if I don’t know yer comin’? I could’ve lost ye in transit or dropped ye somewhere. Dammit, I could’ve killed ye.”
If I couldn’t see how upset he is, I’d know it anyway by his accent’s thickness. Da’s like that too. His tendencies get much more pronounced when he’s losing his mind.
“First off,” I lean in and lower my voice, “don’t yell at me in public. Second, I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t realize I was touching you. Third, you didn’t kill me—yay for that—so focus. I’m sorry you’re upset, but we have more important things going on right now.”
He takes my hand and squeezes it. “Not more important than yer life. By the goddess, my heart is racin’. What would I have done if I lost ye?”
“Easy. You’d come find me.”
“Not funny.”
“A lover’s quarrel already?” Ciara stops beside us with a round of drinks in hand. “I can’t say I’m surprised. The two of ye are like oil and cat piss. Ye don’t go together and gross, who’d want that?”
I stick out my tongue. “Oh, Ciara. Good, your shirt’s still on. I’m glad we caught you before you started exposing your boobs to some unwitting sucker in the back room. We’ve got druid problems. Where are the others?”
“Over there.” Sloan places a hand at the small of my back to get me moving. We join a group of seven people, some of whom I remember from the night they attacked me in the alley.
The heirs of the Nine Families.
“Mackenzie, color me surprised.” A slick frat boy sits up straighter at the back of the table. “Ye decided to share yer pet and join us. Pull up a chair and introduce us properly.”
I recognized that one. It’s the other wayfarer of the group, Tad McNiff. And Ciara’s co-ringleader in arranging my hazing during the Tralee Festival.
Sloan flashes Tad a middle-fingered salute and leans in. “We’ve got trouble, buds. It’s line of duty time. There’s a rogue bunch of druid necromancers about to slaughter the fae captured from the Perry and Doyle groves. Lugh’s and Fiona’s family are outnumbered, and it’s going
down now. Are ye game to fight?”
“Are ye shittin’ us?” Tad’s gaze narrows. “Is this payback for past transgressions? Do ye think ye can get the better of me, Mackenzie?”
I frown. “Hubba-wha? How did what he said get flipped to be about you?”
Sloan sighs. “Tad thinks everything in life is about him.”
“No. It’s for real,” a guy to my right says. “The twins were in the air looking for a clearing all day. Da said it was a favor for Lugh.”
I recognize him. It’s the guy Bruin almost killed in the alley. He flung him against a dumpster and broke his insides.
Sloan meets my gaze. “That’s Jarrod Perry.”
I nod. “Yeah, your brothers are already there and about to fight alongside my brothers. FYI, if we don’t make this right and save the fae, there is talk of them pulling their favor from druids altogether. No more magic powers.”
The group stands, looking alarmed.
“Can they do that?”
I shrug. “I don’t see why not. Our powers are a gift of connection. If the fae sever it…”
“First things first.” Sloan takes a firm grasp on my wrist. “Those willing to fight to save the fae, link up and I’ll take ye there. McNiff, ye’ll have to lend me some wayfarer juice to get us all there safely.”
“A real battle,” another guy says. He meets my gaze and nods. “Eric Flanagan. It’s nice to meet ye properly, Fiona. I’m ever so sorry for our first encounter.”
Everyone grabs hold of one another, and even Ciara abandons the drinks to take Sloan’s other hand. “Don’t look so surprised, Cumhaill. Some of the fae they plan on killing came from my family grove. Of course, I want them to pay.”
I shrug. “I guess we’ll see how you handle yourself when you’re not skulking in the shadows, gang-attacking innocents. This will be new for you.”
Sloan meets Tad’s gaze and nods. “Ready?”
Tad nods. “Take it away, Mackenzie.”
We materialize back where we’d been in the woods by Ross Castle. The original group has spread out since we left. I crouch low and crawl in behind Da. I touch his shoulder to let him know we’ve returned. “Hey. Where do you want us?”
A Sacred Grove (Chronicles of an Urban Druid Book 2) Page 11