by Lizzy Prince
Once we were in the car, I asked Munro about it. “Do you know who Ryan went to go meet?”
I was surprised when he replied with a snort. “I’m pretty sure he’s on his way to see his ex.”
My eyebrows crept up in surprise. “Oh, does she know Roark?”
“Well, yes, but I’m pretty sure they met through Ryan, so I doubt she knows much more than the rest of us.”
“Ah,” I said, suddenly understanding that Ryan might have been looking for an excuse to go see her. Not that I minded. I had no clue how we were supposed to get the lia fáil, and maybe we needed another person to help, or maybe it was like that saying, too many cooks in the kitchen. Ryan had been having a rough time with Hattie’s death. If he needed to get away for a night, who was I to question it. It wasn’t like he was abandoning us. If it turned out we needed him, he’d drop everything to be there.
“Yeah,” Munro said, giving me a knowing look before he turned back to the winding road, looking far too relaxed driving on the narrow curves. He ran his hand through his hair, messing up the thick, dark locks. The look on his face was full of regret. “They broke up when we left for the states.”
A misplaced sting of guilt slapped at me, and I tried to shove it away, unsuccessfully. It wasn’t like I was the one who’d made Hattie stalk me and kill my parents. Still, I felt bad that they’d had to abandon their lives here in Ireland to come and protect me.
“Don’t,” Munro said, his voice sharp. “I can see your brain ticking through all of the reasons that this is your fault, and it is not. Not in any way.”
I groaned and leaned back into the seat, pressing my head back and closing my eyes. “I know. I can’t help it.”
“Well stop.”
“It’s not like a faucet I can turn off,” I said, my tone snarky and short.
I turned to look at Munro’s profile, taking in the stubbled jaw that needed a shave and the chiseled cheekbones that proclaimed some superior genetics in his family. His eyes darted in my direction, then back at the road, but I could see his smile tipping the edges of his full lips. Lips that I wanted to press my own against, except not just then, since I didn’t want to spiral off the crazily narrow, winding road. He reached out his hand and dropped it on my thigh, squeezing gently and creating little electric currents that zipped happily through my body.
“That’s part of what makes you so incredible,” Munro said, his voice deep and husky with emotion. “How much you care about others. The fact that you feel bad for people even when you aren’t the cause of their pain.”
I swallowed thickly, feeling an ache in the back of my throat. Damn, I might have been about to cry. “It’s just how any normal person would feel,” I deflected.
Munro’s face was serious when he turned to look at me, taking his eyes from the road for way too long, but I couldn’t seem to find the words to offer up a protest.
“No, Annie. It’s not.”
“Okay, okay. Eyes back on the road,” I choked out, but I placed my hand on top of the warm one still holding onto my thigh.
We made good time to Blarney and arrived late in the morning. I’d used Munro’s phone to do some googling of the grounds to see what I could find out about the wishing steps. I sent up a prayer to the gods of stupid acts because if we’d waited one more day, the castle and grounds would have been closed. The castle was open nearly every day of the year except for Christmas Eve and Christmas. I mean, I would have scaled a wall and gotten arrested if I had to, but it wasn’t exactly on my to-do list.
It was possible that since it was the day before Christmas Eve we’d lucked out, because there weren’t many tourists roaming about the grounds as we made our way through the park. Or maybe it was because it was early and spitting icy chips of rain-snow outside. Hard to say. The grass was that same unbelievable technicolor green that we didn’t have back home, and I would have taken a moment to be in awe of the castle if I wasn’t already feeling like a drowned rat. I kept trying to tell myself that there were a lot worse things than being wet and cold, but my frozen fingers and nose were telling me that they begged to differ.
I sniffed my nose which was threatening to start running, just to ensure I was the biggest mess I could possibly be. Munro appeared to have an idea about where we needed to go, so I followed after him, nearly jogging to keep up with his long strides. Even that didn’t warm me up. We passed by the castle and followed the signs pointing to the Rock Close, which was where the wishing steps were located.
“Is it weird that an ancient and powerful lia fáil is hidden at one of Ireland’s biggest tourist attractions?” I said as I caught up to Munro, my breath billowing out in a steamy stream of fog as I sniffed again and held my hand over my icy nose, trying to warm it up.
Munro slowed a bit, realizing how much I was rushing to try to keep up with his long legs. He reached out to grab my free hand and enfolded it in his, the warmth of his skin soaking into me like a golden ray of sun.
“It wasn’t always a tourist destination. At one time, this was a sacred place. The four points of fairy were always one of those legends never believed.” He quirked a brow at me. “But back in Áine’s time, this would have made sense as a hiding place. A spot protected by fae magic, a place where the lia fáil could be hidden out of sight.” He shrugged. “And I’ve got a feeling that it's not just sitting in plain sight.”
“Yeah, probably not.” I rolled my eyes, and Munro chuckled, squeezing my fingers as he stopped walking and pulled me into a tight hug. I let myself bury my head in his chest, soaking in the warmth and the sandalwood and forest smells that were all Munro.
Tipping my head back to look at him, I asked, “What was that for?”
Munro’s hands rested low on my back, just above the curve of my butt, and the heat from them soaked through my layers and branded me. His gray eyes were intense as they peered down at me, but there was a spark of happiness clearly stamped there as well. Lowering his head, he pressed a soft kiss to my lips, and I would have swooned into him if he hadn't already been holding me. Sparks of electricity tingled over my body, and tiny, excited pulses of magic shimmered around us, like a mere touch between us could alter the texture of the universe.
My hands slid up to his neck, and my fingers curled into his hair as the kiss deepened. The landscape around us dropped away, and there was only the heat of Munro in front of me. The world was focused down to the feel of his lips brushing against mine, the touch of his tongue to mine, the desperate clutch of his hands on my body.
When he finally pulled away, we were both panting like we’d run a five-minute mile. Munro looked as dazed as I felt, but there was a whisper of a smile on his lips as he cleared his throat and gently used the hands that were on my hips to push me back. “I, ah, didn’t mean for that to happen.”
I burst out laughing and shook my head, releasing a whoosh of breath as I touched my swollen lips. “Okay then. Well, let’s get back to our super-secret mission. I’m sure we didn’t call any attention to ourselves with that kiss.”
Munro’s only response was to press a kiss to the top of my head before we started moving toward the Rock Close once again. Our path took us to a small shaded enclosure with giant rocks perched here and there between beaten down dirt paths and small gardens of herbs and grass. As we stepped into the secluded copse, there was a shift in the atmosphere that made my ears pop. I stopped and focused and could see a small, almost imperceptible, bubble that surrounded the spot. Golden sparks of magic floated around, contained within the dome like millions of sedate fireflies.
“Whoa,” I murmured as the little glowing balls swam around us. Some bounced off of us, gently pinging back out into space, while others settled on our skin and soaked in.
“Yeah,” was Munro’s whispered response. His eyes were wide when I looked up at him.
“Can you see the magic?” Excitement that he might be experiencing the magic the same way I did raced through me.
“Yeah,” he said again bu
t this time with a disbelieving laugh. His gray eyes blinked and turned to me in wonder. “Is this how you always see the magic?”
“It is.” My throat ached with emotion, and I felt silly, but there was something so mystical and perfect about this place. About being surrounded by the magic, that I felt choked up.
Hoping to get my emotions in check, I stepped further into the grove, taking in the moss-covered stones and the tinkling sound of running water. Turning around to take it all in, I found an enormous rock with a carved-out passage that had to be the wishing steps. I hurried over to the entrance and looked down to find an uneven set of steps cut from the rock. The steps had been chiseled out and worn away over time to form a passage through the stone.
There was an instinct that pushed me to place my hand upon the stone, and I gasped in surprise when warmth radiated from it. I’d assumed that like everything else—including me—the stone would be cold and damp, but it was dry and warm beneath my fingers. I could feel magic saturated the stone almost as though it were a living entity, thrumming with power as ancient as the earth. My breath shuddered out of me as the strength of that power nearly overwhelmed me. Munro appeared behind me, his hand coming to rest on the small of my back.
“You okay?” His breath warmed my neck, and I trembled.
“I can feel the magic here. It’s ancient. Powerful.”
“I feel it too.”
Running my palms over the stone, I pushed away, and I turned to look at Munro, pressing my lips together tightly before I spoke. “Okay, game plan. What do you think? Do I just need to walk up and down the steps, wishing for the lia fáil?”
Munro looked at the carved-out stairs behind me and sucked in his cheek like he was biting the inside. His lips bent down in a frown. “The legend says that you have to walk down the steps and back up with your eyes closed, thinking about your wish.” He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. “I have no idea if that’s what we need to do, or if that’s just some story the marketers made up to try to get tourists to do stupid stuff.”
I looked down at the steps, roughly carved out of the rock. They were well worn and uneven, but at least there was a railing. “Well, all myths come from somewhere, right? It’s not like we have a better plan.”
With one last look at Munro, I said, “Here goes nothing.”
“Wait.” Munro grabbed my hand and pulled me against him, brushing his lips softly over mine. “One more for luck.”
I touched his cheek with the tips of my fingers. “Here goes nothing.”
I reached for the railing before I closed my eyes, not willing to fall ass over tea kettle and crack my head open down the misshapen steps. With the first step, my foot slid, and I stumbled enough to have my heart jumping up into my throat before it settled back in my chest with erratic thumps. Standing still, I took a moment to catch my breath and focus. I’d just started walking down the steps but I hadn’t been thinking about my wish or concentrating on the magic.
My eyes were still squeezed tight, and I had such a death grip on the railing that my fingers were starting to go numb. Loosening my hold just a little, I took another breath and focused on connecting to the magic that was so powerful in this place that even Munro could see it. Connecting to it wasn’t the same as connecting to Munro’s magic or even the way I’d connected to the elements when I’d used magic in the past.
This time, it was as if I’d opened a damn, and the magic poured into me like water flooding lowlands. The sparks infused every cell of my body, each molecule that made up of the essence of my being. The power of it hit me with such staggering force that I swooned and nearly forgot where I was. I almost opened my eyes but remembered just in time as my fingers curled around the railing like it was the only thing keeping me on the earth.
I started a chant in my mind as the magic swirled through and around me. I wish for the cauldron. I wish for the cauldron. Using my foot as a guide, I patted at the edge of each step as I slowly made my way down the stairs, continuing to repeat my wish in my mind while letting the magic pulse around me. I had no idea where the steps ended, but I felt like I must have been getting close when the steps became slick and the railing ended. There was a waterfall near the bottom of the stairs, and the spray of the falls made the lower section of steps damp and slippery. I took another step, sliding a little, making my stomach leap up into my throat. Feeling around with my foot, I thought that I must have come to the end of the stairs, because everything around me felt flat.
Turning back around to go back up, I reached out blindly, hoping to get the railing back under my hand, and walked straight into the bottom step. The unexpected contact made me slip, and I fell forward, bashing my shins and knees on the stair and jamming my finger when my hands collided with rock as I tried to brace my fall.
“Mother...” I grumbled, but somehow miraculously managed to keep my eyes shut.
Taking a bit more time to carefully feel for the railing, I exhaled in relief when I found the wood and slowly pulled myself up. The magic was doing a frenzied dance around me as if tittering at my fall. If I could give an inanimate object a dirty look, I would have. Instead, I forced myself to stay calm and remember my wish as I made my way back up the stairs.
When I reached the last step, I placed my hand over my heart and put all my energy into the wish, pleading for the cauldron. Releasing the railing, I took the final step back onto the flat earth of the shaded glen and opened my eyes to find Munro. But he wasn’t there.
Chapter 15
I spun around, my eyes darting back and forth over the Rock Close. It registered that it looked very different from the place I’d left Munro waiting for me. The stairs were gone and in their place was a solid sheet of rock. The trodden dirt paths had disappeared and now moss, ivy, and overgrown grass covered the small copse. But that wasn’t all that had changed. The entire world was colored differently. Green dominated everything else as if my eyes had been coated in a filter that made every color but green muted and dull.
Panic clawed at my throat as I took in a circle of standing stones that had not been there earlier. And within them was a woman. My gasp of alarm didn’t alert her to my presence, because she was already aware. She was staring at me with unnatural, icy-blue eyes. Those eyes held knowledge and secrets of the universe that I knew would shatter my fragile human mind. I recognized her instantly. It was the Queen, the one I’d seen in Áine’s memories. Mebh, I believed they’d called her.
She sat in the middle of the stones on what could only be considered a throne, carved from a stone so enormous it soared over her head. Spikes of metal and wood erupted from the top, as if some fool would try to scale the top of the throne to catch her unaware. Not likely. It was an odd aesthetic but a powerful visual nonetheless.
Her cool eyes were unblinking, watching me and waiting for me to approach. It unnerved me and made me want to blink my own eyes in reaction. As if my own movements could compel her to do the same. Forcing my legs to move me forward, I slowly walked toward the enclosure, waiting for… I wasn’t sure. I didn’t think she’d attack me or slice my head off with an invisible sword. Hell, she’d spoken to us in our memory, so maybe she was a friend, and not a foe. Still, her otherworldliness set off my hackles.
Mebh didn’t move as I came to stand in front of her, the uneven ground littered with rocks leaving me off kilter and uneven. Was she waiting for me to bow or something archaic like that? I had no idea, but I was fairly certain if I tried to curtsy, I’d end up falling over. Instead, I cleared my throat and dumbly said, “Hello.”
Those icy eyes finally blinked once, twice, three times before Mebh cocked her head. “How are you supposed to stop Cailleach.” There was no inflection in her voice. She could have been asking if I’d picked up a gallon of milk from the store for all the emotion she was projecting.
My cheeks heated with embarrassment, but I recalled her words from our earlier conversation and mirrored them back at her, “Is that a question?”
> Her eyes narrowed, and her nostrils flared as she sucked in a breath through her nose. My instinct told me to keep my mouth closed. Follow old-timey etiquette rules. Don’t speak unless spoken to. Whatever the hell this woman was in front of me—fairy, human, some combination of the two—I could feel her power surging around her, the golden sparks nearly bubbling over like a boiling pot as they tumbled around every inch of her form.
“It is a statement of disappointment that you seem to know nothing of your ancestry, history, how to wield your magic, and indeed a statement of doubt that you will be able to stop Cailleach from terrorizing your world.” Again, with the cold, unsentimental tone. Was she fae or an automaton?
My chest tightened, and my ears buzzed from both the chastisement and the worry that her words brought out in me. I mean, she was absolutely correct. Who the hell was I to think I could stop anyone from hurting people, and especially not some powerful witch who’d gone off the evil deep end? Fuck. We were absolutely fucked. Lia fáil or not, magical entourage with many more years of magic experience or not, we had no idea how to fight her. And no idea how to stop her and put her back in the ground.
Mebh just watched, back to her unblinking state, as I fought down the panic that was telling me to find a closet somewhere and hide out until this was all over. The only problem was that I didn’t have the luxury of panicking, or not seeing this through. Who else was going to stop Cailleach if it wasn’t our rag-tag make-shift family of magical misfits? Was I going to send everyone else after her while I stuck my head in the sand? No way. I would never let that happen. I didn’t let other people fight my battles for me.
As if she could read my mind, and she was pleased, the smallest smile in the history of the world tipped the edges of Mebh’s lips. “Ah, maybe there is some fight in you.”