Treasure

by C J Matthew

  Heather seemed to quickly catch on to the situation and she raced down the hall. Bursting into the invalid’s room, she ordered, “Shut up, Drake, and get back in that bed. You were in a plane crash and shot earlier today. You need rest and to let those two bullet holes heal before you go storming off.”

  “Ms. Daniels,” Drake moaned. “Thank heaven. I didn’t know where you were. Or what they’d done to you.”

  “In bed, right now.” Her fisted hands on her hips, Heather wore a menacing glare on her beautiful face. Drake seemed to sense the danger and meekly crawled back into the rumpled bed. Heather pulled up a sheet to cover his pajama clad body while the Druidess healer plumped up a pillow and smiled her approval.

  Heather offered Drake a drink from the glass of water on his bedside table and then she sat in the chair pulled up beside his bed. “Let me tell you what happened after you passed out. Then I’ll introduced the folks who saved our lives.”

  During the narrative, she avoided any mention of magical or unusual happenings and when it came time to introduce Andraste, she called the healer a Nurse Practitioner.

  Seemingly satisfied with Heather’s story, Drake shook hands and apologized to Liam and the healer. A moment later he ruined the apology with, “Not to sound ungrateful, but I’m feeling pretty good and I need to get back to civilization. File an accident report, and get my plane replaced.”

  Heather frowned at him. “You sound beyond unappreciative, Drake. Besides, there’s no way we can figure out how to get you back to Dublin tonight. I need your word you’ll stay put, rest, and we’ll come up with a plan first thing in the morning. Deal?”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “I’m dead serious, Drake. If you go wandering around outside, in the pitch dark, and twist an ankle or bash into a tree? I’ll complain to your buddy, my supervisor, the minute I get to a phone. Hell, I’ll tell everyone at Wells and Hancock. You’ll never work for them or anyone they work with, ever again.”

  “All right, all right, I get the message. I’m staying put. See you at breakfast.”

  Liam escorted Heather to a sitting room at the far end of the house and offered her a glass of Mead while they waited for Andraste to join them.

  “Can you get him home?” Heather asked.

  “I’d planned to spend the morning fishing his plane out of the ocean but yes, I’m sure I can get him back to Dublin and drop him near the Port. Now I have a question for you. Do you trust him to keep quiet about Draíochtia?”

  “Sober? Maybe. But with a pint or two in him? No. The story is just too good not to tell at the pub. Shot down with a harpoon, acing the crash landing, a pirate attack, and a rescue by mysterious folks on an invisible private island? That tale will be good for free drinks well into next year.”

  Shit. He sat up straight. “Who told you Draíochtia is invisible?”

  “I didn’t need to be told, Liam, not after going through the barrier. One minute the view in front of the raft was open ocean. After the horizontal lightening, there was an island there – beach, cliffs and all. Real Brigadoon-ish.”

  How dangerous was knowledge like this? Pulse racing, he took her hand, and linked their fingers. Touching her grounded him. “You might not want to repeat that to anyone else.”

  “Admit I’ve seen a revival of Brigadoon?” She patted his hand. “Kidding. I promise I won’t tell a soul. Even Andraste, unless she asks me straight out. I haven’t pinky sworn with her, but in general, I hate liars. Funny since I work for a company that uses “spin” to mangle the truth on a regular basis. It presents a challenge for me to stick to the truth. But I try.”

  He kissed her. “Looks like I’ll be off the island all day tomorrow. Will you be okay?”

  “Fair warning. After I have a setting-the-ground-rules discussion with Andraste, I intend to give witch lessons a try.”

  “Meaning I’ll be safely out of range but the island of Draíochtia could be in real jeopardy?”

  “Depends on how good the Druidess is at teaching spells.”

  “Or, it could depend on how much power you inherited.”

  “Often,” Andraste said from the doorway, "a witch coming into her gifts needs a combination of both factors. I’m inclined to think you have plenty of power and simply need to learn how to harness and direct it.”

  Heather squeezed his hand before she let it go and rose to her feet. “I hate to impose further, but do you have a night gown or night shirt I could borrow?”

  “Certainly,” the Druidess said, “You’re welcome to use and keep anything you find in the closet or chest of drawers in your room. The toiletries and grooming supplies are all new.” Andraste came into the room, gave Heather a brief hug, and stood beside a tall back chair near the small waning fire. She chose a medium sized log from the stack and placed it atop what remained of the flames. The new log smoked but didn’t catch.

  “Heather,” the druidess murmured, “mind giving my poor fire a wee boost?”

  Heather’s eyes went round. Then the beginnings of a smile curved up the corners of her mouth. She faced the fireplace. With a sudden whoosh, an inferno of flames filled the grate. And just as quickly, the fire calmed down to a cheery blaze.

  “A bit of control,” Andraste whispered, “that’s all she’ll be needing.”

  Liam gave Heather a hug. “Sweet dreams, little wicca.” Cheeks bright with a blush, Heather asked him, “Will I see you tomorrow?”

  “You’re most welcome,” Andraste said, “to stay while Liam and I discuss getting Drake safely home.”

  Liam’s stomach dropped. She just invited Heather to sit in on a Guardian problem-solving-discussion. Where he and the Druidess decided how they would wipe certain memories from the pilot’s brain, strap him on the back of a Sea Dragon to make the invisible underwater trip, home to Dublin? That discussion? Hey, since the man loved to fly, they should convince one of the flying dragons to airlift Drake home. That would give Liam half the day to retrieve the airplane and time to spend with Heather before his night patrol.

  “I don’t think so,” Heather said.

  What? Ah, good. She was declining the Druidess’s invitation.

  “I’m not ready,” Heather continued, “to hear that Druid’s have mind-wipe capabilities. Or how it works, thank you very much.”

  She marched to the door. Turned to say to him, “I guess I’ll see you when I see you.” And flounced off down the hall.

  “That woman is perfect for you,” Andraste said with a laugh. “She’ll lead you on a merry chase but all together, she’s ideally suited to be your mate.”

  “Your prediction abilities haven’t improved with time. Heather is not my mate.”

  “No? Are you certain?”

  “My sea dragon is very sure. I’ve asked him twice.”

  “Then I apologize for assuming.”

  “She is extremely perceptive and catches on to stuff I’d rather she didn’t know. The sooner I can get her back home to Dublin, the better.”

  “That’s not what your heart is saying.”

  “To hell with my heart. We absolutely will not wipe a single memory from her mind so I’m trusting you to keep her out of trouble while I’m gone.”

  Chapter 10

  Heather

  Heather woke the next morning grumpy for coffee and groggy from a night filled with erotic yet strange dreams starring Liam. She flipped over on the soft mattress, snuggled deeper in the covers and covered her head with the pillow. At the soft knock on the door, she groaned.

  “If you brought hot coffee, come on in.”

  “How about really strong tea?” It was Liam. She jumped out of bed, lunged for the door, and dragged him inside.

  “Mind the hot tea,” he warned. She closed the door and shot the bolt. After one long whiff of the steam rising from the pottery mug, she set the not-coffee on the bedside table and jumped him. Legs around his waist, arms circling his neck, she ravished Liam’s mouth.

  He cupped her night-shirt-covered-ass, h
is large hands doing most of the work of holding her up. When she started to grind against him, the fabric inched up and soon his hands were on the bare skin of her butt cheeks. “You’re not wearing any—“

  “You’re wearing way too much.” She bit his lower lip. “Strip. Now.”

  He groaned. “I have to go.”

  “Drake?” She guessed, tipping her head back to see his face.

  “Crashed airplane retrieval, then Drake. And I’m on patrol duty tonight.”

  “Then we should definitely have a quickie, right now.”

  “Soon. The day the supply ship arrives and is unloaded, I’ll have all night off.”

  She had no idea when the supplies were due to arrive, but Liam sounded like it might be soon. In the middle of her hum of approval, she whispered, “Swear?”

  “Would I lie about something as important as that?”

  “Guess not. How about a fast blow job?”

  He groaned again. “You’re killing me. Let’s save everything until we have time to do it all justice.”

  “Your loss.”

  “I know, baby, I know.”

  “Don’t ever call me baby.”

  “Sorry.” He gave her one long parting kiss then tossed her on the bed. “Enjoy your tea.”

  “Smuggle some coffee back from Dublin.”

  He hesitated. “Don’t blow up the island.”

  “Bye.”

  Energized but still aching with sexual frustration, she showered. Where did the hot water come from? She dressed in an off-white, ankle length gown she found hanging on a wooden hangar in the closet. “Will the mumbo jumbo work better if I look the part?” she asked her reflection in the bathroom. And considered putting her blond hair into Princess Leia buns. Nah, too much, she decided, and left her hair down. Sitting on the edge of the bed she drank the tea, now warm instead of boiling hot. Blah.

  From somewhere in the house bells chimed. “Does that mean chow’s on? Or it’s time for witch lessons?”

  Heather hurried to make the bed, brush her teeth and head down the hall in search of food. How was a new witch-in-training expected to change the ills of the world on an empty stomach? Did Guardians have their own houses here? Like privacy?

  Strolling through the empty hallway, her mind continued to fill with questions. Was the management team at Wells and Hancock missing her? Had they called the police? How could Liam transport Drake to Ireland? Her sandal stuttered on a floor tile. Maybe she’d be better off not thinking too much.

  Following her nose, she went straight to the kitchen. Andraste stood at a wood burning stove, flipping pancakes.

  “Have a seat,” the Druidess said, “I’ll join you in a minute.”

  “How much time do we have? What time do the magic lessons begin?”

  “Right now. For approximately the next hour, stop thinking about schedules, appointments, or any reference to time. Try to think of valuable questions and listen carefully to the answers. No matter how much or how little time they take. For the now, we eat until we’re nourished. We’ll learn what we’re meant to know today. No time issues, no deadlines, no pressure.”

  “Sounds great.”

  “This place, in the middle of the Willow Grove, is the ideal spot to learn new ways. Here among the trees, in the glades and sacred groves, you’ll draw strength and your power will grow.”

  “And you’ll teach me how to control it.”

  “I will point the way. You will teach yourself to focus and direct your power.”

  “Great.” She lifted her fork full of blueberry pancake pieces and asked, “As a hereditary witch, what all can I do?”

  “Is that what you want to discuss?”

  “No. Not yet. First tell me all about Liam.” She washed down the pancakes with a couple swallows of fruit juice—a mixture of unidentified juices—and checked the Druidess’s expression with a sidelong glance. “That’s okay, isn’t it?”

  “Why don’t you tell me what you already know about Liam?”

  “Mostly a lot of useless facts about Muirdris Shipping and how their worldwide conglomerate is divided up among his cousins. I know he isn’t married, never engaged, not dating anyone at the moment. He’s been enthusiastic about developing the Port of Cork since… umm…Andraste?”

  “Ask me anything.”

  “All those details about his business and his family? That’s not what I really need to know or care about—right?”

  “What could be more important than a man’s work?”

  “That’s the thing, his shipping company is his obvious business. His work also includes protecting you and this sanctuary. And it’s a big part of him, the real, inner him. I want to learn where he comes from, and everything he honors and loves enough to defend with his body and his life.”

  Where had all that come from? Heather held her breath and watched Andraste. The woman wasn’t giving up a damn thing. Did the Druidess moonlight as a psychologist? Psychoanalyst?

  “You’ve learned quite a bit already,” Andraste finally said, “You tell me what Liam is.”

  “He’s a guardian here on Draíochtia from April 15th to May 12th because he was born under the zodiac sign of Willow.”

  “A sign which is ruled by the moon,” the Druidess added, “Liam is very creative and intelligent. Highly intuitive, he can often be downright psychic, while still having a realistic perspective. He enjoys an understanding of cycles, to everything there is a season.”

  “More.”

  A smile brightened the Druidess’s face. “As I’m sure you’ve already seen he can be more patient than most of the other tree signs. He has a real ability to retain knowledge. And the ability to talk about those varied subjects from memory. In fact, he has shown a penchant to hold himself back rather than appear a know-it-all. Personally, he’s working on his volatile temper, he can have a hard time forgetting an insult, and more of a hard time forgiving one. In other words, the man can hold on to resentment.”

  “Andraste, I’m crazy about Liam.”

  “I know.”’

  Heather shoveled pancakes into her mouth and chewed like crazy. When she was finished, she carried both their empty plates to the sink and washed. How did they get hot water?

  Drying her hands on an embroidered kitchen towel, she turned back to the table.

  “I liked giving your fire a wee boost. Can we do that again?”

  By dinner time, Heather was stumbling, she was so tired. They’d spent chunks of the day—several times she’d thought about checking for a clock but resisted—starting and extinguishing fires. For a break, they took a basket and tromped through the woods adjacent to the sacred grove where they developed a routine. When Heather came across a plant she recognized, it was her job to point and say the name. Then the Druidess supplied the local name and a bit about the plant’s properties.

  “In your mortar and pestle grind two leaves, add medicinal lotion and smear on bug bites.”

  “Do I have to be a healer?”

  “You have to know about plants. Which ones you can eat, or crush and apply, and which plants to avoid by taking a wide arc around them.”

  “Ah, good. What’s that weird one?”

  Her fatigue didn’t seem to hinder her appetite. After wolfing down a lumberjack-sized dinner, she sat alone on the front porch staring at the stars and wondering where Liam was right this minute.

  In bed, she fell asleep wishing for Liam-dreams. Instead she dreamed of giant sea serpents with long pointy teeth.

  Chapter 11

  Liam

  The sun was rising over Draíochtia, when the sea dragon swam toward the shore beneath the Willow Grove. The cliffs glittered with bits of embedded stones. He knew the granules of sand would be warming themselves for a day of battling with the greedy waves.

  Fly ashore the dragon announced to his other half. It was not a question or a request.

  Go for it, big guy, Liam answered. It’d been a hell of a long night spent dodging Hunter boats, confusing
their sonar by assuming weird shapes, and then leading them away from the island.

  Liam’s sea dragon dove to the bottom, whipped his extremely long tail, and shot to the surface. As he erupted from the ocean, the sea dragon spread his undersized wings and caught enough air to lift and propel his long body to a dramatic four-point landing on the beach.

  Liam could hear applause and whistles. “Take a bow, my friend. That was quite a show.” As soon as he’d shifted, the small group of guardians gathered closer, slapping him on the back, and shaking his hand.

  “I could have used some of you guys last night,” he grumbled to the group.

  “Grumpy until he’s had his morning ale,” observed Goban, the biggest shifter in this group and a friendly guy.

  “The only time Liam isn’t grumpy is when he’s asleep,” another shifter said.

  “What’s up?” Liam turned his back to the sun so he could see their faces.

  “We all agree you did a terrific job a couple years ago, designing and installing the early warning system.”

  “You sure did. Is there any way you could show us how you did it?”

  “We’ve been talking about working together, setting up several stretches on more of the shoreline.”

  “Sure,” Liam said, with an enthusiastic nod. “Just not today. It’s going to take me all day to get an intruder back to his home.”

  “The guy who crashed?”

  “Yep.”

  “Were the Druids able to clear his recent memories?”

  “I sure as hell hope so,” Liam said with a shiver. “Yep, that’s the one. Besides getting him home with no memory of any of this, I need to recover his plane.”

  “From the bottom of the sea? Why bother?”

  “Here’s the deal” Liam said, “in two parts. We all know the coastline of Draíochtia is invisible to the human eye. But when someone or something approaches our coast and then suddenly disappears? It points right to us. It’s a big neon sign saying, hey, look, there’s something here.”

  Mumbles of agreement kept him speaking. “In all cases like that, we need to cover up any evidence of an approach and vanishing. With the most recent crash, we have two issues. There was a hereditary witch as a passenger on the plane.” He held up both hands. “Please no broom jokes.”