Riot Girls: Seven Books With Girls Who Don't Need A Hero
Page 18
Eamon picked the bag up from her bedside chair and handed it to her. It was already half full of the things she would need for a trip. "Don't worry. I've taken the liberty of packing that silly vampire book you were reading. I've your passport in there as well. It took a lot of whisperin' in your mother's ears while she slept last summer to give her the idea to take that wee vacation to Canada so that you would have a passport at the ready. But you need a good night's sleep tonight before you make any decisions. If, as you say, you were among the fae, I dinnae think you've had much sleep at all."
Lizbet thought about the gruagach sneaking into her mother's room at night to whisper in her ear and made a conscious effort not to be creeped out by it. Morgan knew him. Morgan trusted him. Morgan loved him. Morgan had sent him to fetch her specifically for this quest. And Morgan is me, isn't she? Shouldn’t I finish what I started those hundreds of years ago?
She nodded. "No kidding. It wasn't exactly peaceful sleepy-time. I saw a murder, and I saw you take the amulet and then disappear. I saw the Tree of Life. It was amazing. The worst thing and the best thing in the same night, and they were both completely real. What I don't understand is how I could see the Tree of Life as it is right now. It wasn't a memory from a past life like Myrddin's murder was."
"Aye, I can explain that one. You do recall that Morgan was half fae? Did you feel anything happening to Morgan as magic began to be bound?"
"Sure. I could feel what she was feeling. It was like having a part of her disappearing, a feeling of lightness that sort of slowly faded away."
"That was the fae half of her being forced out as all the magical things faded into their own realm. The thing of it is, many fae don't die from old age or sickness, and we're awfully hard to kill. When Faolan completed the separation spell, the fae Morgan didn't die when the human Morgan did. She was pulled out of the human Morgan into our shadow world. The same thing happened to all who were half fae. What ye saw at the Tree of Life was through the eyes of the other part of you."
"Like I wasn't already freaked out enough by all of this! So, Morgan was split into two? What if the fae world becomes visible again? Will the fae version of Morgan become part of me? Will we 'remerge' like the memories did?"
"I don't have an answer, lassie, but it's a good question, a fair question, I'll give you that. Nobody knows because it's never happened before. There’s a fair chance you’ll be reunited as you were when your other memories remerged. There’s also a fair chance you’ll be reunited in some other way or not at all. If you do reunite, it could be useful to have a fifteen hundred year old fae inside you. Or, maybe not. That's just one of the many reasons you need to sleep on your decision. Your other lives can inform you, but they wouldn't compel you even if they could."
As Lizbet fell back asleep, she felt the tingle of both excitement and dread building up inside her. She knew she had already chosen her path. She knew she wanted to be a leader, to be a hero. She just didn’t know if boring Lizbet Moore had enough of Morgan Le Fae in her to get the job done.
CHAPTER FOUR
Run Run Run
LIZBET GOT UP and took a shower, showing up at the breakfast table just in time to fill her plate with a big stack of her mother's silver dollar pancakes. Bobby was already scarfing his down, and he had a dribble of syrup running down his chin. Mom reached over with a napkin when he was between bites and wiped the syrup off. Bobby moved his chin away, trying to avoid the napkin, but Mom always won that battle.
"I really don't know what I'll do with myself for two weeks," Mom said as she sat down to her own meal.
"Mom, you never get a chance to do anything for yourself. You should go on a weekend trip or something. Have fun. Bobby and I will be. He'll be killing helpless fish, and I’ll be watching DVDs on Dad’s new, giant, seriously awesome TV. Really, he almost has to get a bigger place just to be able to use it." Lizbet talked into her plate because she didn't like lying to her mother about where she'd be. Plus, she was sure her mother would know something was up if she could see her eyes. Moms don’t need magic. Momdar works just fine without it.
She would have liked to tell her mom her plans, but how could she explain that all of fairyland is waiting on her to save them? No, that's not a conversation she wanted to have. It would be straight to the nearest head-shrinker for good ol' Lizzie, and there would be no more leaving the house until all of that crazy talk stopped. Mom would think she was doing the right thing, but good intentions or not, it wouldn't get Lizbet to the Tree in time to help the fae.
After breakfast, she gathered the dirty breakfast plates and loaded the dishwasher. Bobby ran up to his room, grabbed his duffel bag, and ran back to sit at the table, gabbing as Lizbet worked. She loved that he was so excited about going to camp. When she finished with the dishes, they opened the curtains for the big picture window in front and knelt backwards on the couch, looking out the window for his ride. His best friend, Kyle, was going to be there, too, and his mom was picking Bobby up. Bobby continued to chatter excitedly, anticipating all of the fun he was going to have.
Mrs. Corrigan's SUV pulled into the driveway, and Bobby jumped up, shouting, "Mom! They're here!"
They walked Bobby out to the driveway, and they each gave him a big hug. Lizbet hugged him hard for a good long time and threw in some special “camp noogies” for good measure before she let him go. It occurred to her that her life could be a lot different by the next time she saw him. Bobby protested, laughing, but she knew he didn't really mind.
Lizbet worried that if the fae were saved and her fae side came zinging back to her, part of her might not remember him or want to hang out with him. That made her sad, and she hoped it didn't turn out that way. But it didn't make her change the decision she'd already made. She wondered how much of that decision was hers and how much was influenced by all the other nosy, pushy lives flitting around the inside of her head who kept telling her she was a leader. a hero. and the only one who would do.
They stood in the driveway and waved at Bobby until the SUV disappeared around a corner. Then, her Mom threw her laptop case onto the passenger seat of the family car. Mom hugged her and said she hoped she’d have a good time with her father. Then, just like that, her mother headed off for work.
She wanted a longer goodbye, but her mother would have thought it strange for her oh-so-grownup-so-she-said daughter to cling too tightly to her mommy just because she wouldn't see her for two weeks.
At least she wasn't likely to be attacked by any more killer zombie garden gnomes. That was a plus.
~*~
James heard the sound of something hitting the back window of his small over-the-garage apartment. Fracking birds. They just couldn't resist hanging out on the metal awning, scrabbling around when he was trying to read. It was a good book, too. The knight in almost shining armor had bested the dragon and was now making his play for the beautiful damsel-in-distress. In the story that played in James's head, the damsel was petite with red hair, blue eyes, and looked an awful lot like Lizbet.
Then the sound came again. And again. James started to get angry, then caught himself and decided to try to scare whatever it was away before he boiled over. As he walked to the window, he tripped on something and looked down to see that one of his Renaissance Faire gauntlets had fallen off the bookshelf.
He'd been thinking that maybe Lizbet might be out back and maybe he could go hang out for a while if she was. That would be an okay use of a summer day. In fact, better than okay. Lizbet was pretty cute. But too young, he had to remind himself. Anyway, what would she think if she ever saw his full knight-in-armor gear and realized he was the kind of geek that got off on history by recreating it? It was bad enough he didn't have an ounce of style on a good day, but girls really don't go for the dorks who dress up in costume on the weekend.
It didn't matter. Fake-jousting and fantasizing about being a knight in olden times had given him an outlet for his bad temper, and he never lost it anymore as long as he could find some
one to swordplay with. No matter what else happened in his life, he'd keep on going to his faires. One thing he was sure of—girls definitely don't go for the geek who loses his temper everytime someone looks at them the wrong way. At least he wasn't that guy anymore...although the day he saw that kid push Lizbet up against her gate? He was glad the jerk saw the look in his eye as he came down the stairs and decided to take off running. He'd never know if he would have used the bat or not.
As he got to the window, he forgot about birds kicking up a ruckus. Weirdest thing—there were a couple of old skool monks standing out in the Moore's garden, looking toward the house. Not the kind of thing you expect to see on a nice summer day. It seemed like something a white knight should stick his nose into in a chivalric way. Mrs. Moore would be at work, so it couldn't hurt to make sure Lizbet and Bobby were okay. He quickly gathered a few things he would need for a trip to the grocery store after he stopped in at the neighbors and headed down the stairs.
~*~
After a long phone conversation with Tanji in which they both bemoaned the next few boring weeks without each other, and Lizbet apologized more times than necessary for not replying to Tanji's texts the day before, Lizbet brought her bag down from her room and set it on the kitchen table so she would be ready to go when Eamon arrived. He had explained part of the plan for getting her to Scotland the night before, but he said he still had some details to arrange and would be back in the morning after he completed them.
She was bursting to tell Tanji what was going on, but she knew she couldn't. Gruagachs, fairies, secret trips to Scotland. Sure, no problem. Tanji was more tolerant than most people when Lizbet had a dork moment, but no—fairies are so not on the "you go, girl, just be yourself" list, even for her never-judgy best friend.
She made some hot chocolate. As she opened the sliding glass door, careful not to spill the whole creamy cup of it on her way outside, she heard a quiet voice behind her say, "Och, no-o-o-o! Close the door, lassie. Do ye not see them?"
Lizbet looked up and into the back yard. Monks. There were two monks in brown robes, deep hoods hiding their faces, standing in the gnome garden. Those freaking gnomes definitely attracted all the wrong element. As soon as she looked up, the monks knew that she'd seen them and started running toward the patio, trying to get there before she closed the door. She latched it just before the monks arrived and still managed not to spill her drink. Her heart raced, but the intruders tugged on the door to no avail. Lizbet, one. Monks, zero.
"Come on, lassie," Eamon shouted. He tossed her bag to her after she set the cup of undrunk chocolate down carefully on a coffee table. They both bolted for the front door. She realized her mom would think it was just like her to leave her leftovers around. It would be good camouflage for her fake trip to Dad's. Of course, she first had to escape the killer monks.
Lizbet and Eamon were out the door and almost to the end of the driveway when the monks made it around the garage. Their hoods had fallen to their shoulders as they sprinted around the side of the house. She risked a look behind when she heard them having problems with the white picket gate that would let them into the front yard. She was relieved that neither of them looked like Faolan, but her heart still thudded an alarm in her chest.
They were pelting up the street and had just passed James’s apartment when he pulled out behind them, throwing the side door of the car open, and yelling, "Get in."
James didn't have to ask twice. She ducked into the car and pulled Eamon in behind as James started to back out of the driveway. The monks grabbed uselessly at the smooth fenders of the car as James floored it, and the car tore off down the street. Eamon clambered over her shoulder into the back seat.
Lizbet suddenly realized that a gruagach was going to be very difficult to explain. Then she smirked to herself. Like explaining killer monks will be a walk in the park. For the moment, she just closed her eyes, took in a deep breath, and then blew it out in the hope it would slow her pounding heart.
James’s eyes flicked toward her as he drove, "What the heck happened back there? I was upstairs when I saw the monks hanging out in your garden, and I couldn't believe it when I saw them chasing you. I mean, monks. How weird is that? Anyway, the police station is downtown on Corbin, right? Where's Bobby? Is he okay?" James scanned the rearview mirror as he spoke. Lizbet assumed he was looking for monk-mobiles and other suspicious vehicles. She thought he'd been watching way too many spy movies. The monks had come from the back, which means they'd walked in through the woods. They couldn't have a car parked close enough to the house to be chasing them now.
"Bobby's fine. He went to camp this morning and ummm…we can't really go to the police. The monks, they're kind of…well…what can I say about them? You'll so not believe me. Haven't you noticed that the guy in the back of the car is just a little bit strange looking?"
James grinned, "Didn’t want to mention it...when I first saw you guys running across the yard, I thought he was Bobby. Close to the right size, sort of. Well, not really. And I realized that Bobby probably hadn't grown a full beard. Is your friend wearing a costume? For like an elf or something?"
"Nope. I thought he was a garden gnome the first time that I saw him, but he's not. This is my friend, Eamon."
"Och, ye idiot. I don’t look like an elf. Elves are great tall creatures with ridiculous pointy ears. And their hair is just so smooth and silky. They think they're pretty, but what they are is just stuck up their own bums…and gnomes, lassie? They've got brains the size of walnuts. The ones in your garden have practically started a cult worshippin' those lawn statues your mother favors."
James and Lizbet both burst out laughing. It broke the tension of their narrow escape.
After Lizbet stopped laughing, she turned around to ask, "There really are gnomes in the garden? Mom will freak!"
"Try not to get distracted, would ye?" Eamon rolled his golden eyes and continued, "Look, laddie. This lassie needs your help, ye ken? I think I can save you some time in deciding whether it’s a matter for the constables. But you'll have to pull over for a minute. What I need to show you is best not shown while you're driving."
James pulled the car over into the parking lot of a strip mall as they passed.
"Go around back, laddie. We'll need a wee bit of privacy."
James followed the instructions Eamon gave him. After he'd parked the car in a spot at the back of the buildings where they were unlikely to be bothered, Eamon got out of the car and asked the others to get out as well.
James walked over to Lizbet and Eamon's side of the car. Eamon gestured, "Alright, both of you stand over there. And keep your eyes focused on me. Are you ready then?"
James and Lizbet both shrugged and glanced at each other for affirmation. As her eyes met James’s, she felt a tug inside her, like something was being forcibly held back among the other whispers. James looked like…no, it was gone. She turned her attention to Eamon. “Sure, ready as we’ll ever be.”
Suddenly, where the gruagach had been, a small tree took his place.
James turned to Lizbet, "What in the…?"
"Don't look at me." Lizbet shrugged. "I didn't know he could do that. Only a day ago, I thought he was a ceramic gnome, remember?"
"Och, where's Eamon? All I can see is this wee tree. Whatever could have happened?" Eamon’s voice came from in front of them, and Eamon reappeared in his normal state shortly after, "There, that's a glamour. I can do it because I'm a gruagach. One of the fae folk. What you probably call a 'fairy'. Any questions?"
James still looked a little stunned. "I don't believe in fairies."
"That's too bad, laddie. Because the wee fairies, they believe in you…" Eamon rolled his eyes. "Do you have some other explanation for what you've just seen, then? Because if you could figure it out, it’d make a right brilliant party trick."
"No. No, I don't. It looks like I need to revise a few of my beliefs. So…the monks? What are they all about?"
"I'll give you the sho
rt version. The wee lass over there," Eamon said, pointing at Lizbet, "she's reincarnated from a druidess known as Morgan. She's the only one who knows how to save the Tree of Life and rescue all the fae—that would be the fairies, right? If I can’t get her to the Tree soon with everything she needs to undo the spell, then all the fae will die. And there'll be no amount of clappin' hands that can bring them back. And those monks you saw, they want to make sure that magic can never be unbound. They belong to the sect responsible for binding the fae in the first place so many hundred year ago—a sect so secret the kirk doesn't even know about them anymore."
James looked to Lizbet for confirmation.
"That's about right, although I'm still not strong on the details. And saying that I know how to save the Tree of Life is kind of pushing it. I know that Morgan hid something that can save it. And I've seen them, the fae, hundreds of them. They deserve a chance. Only Morgan can help them, and I'm the closest thing they've got to Morgan."
"So, that's why young Lizbet here needs your help, laddie. I've got these airplane tickets, and we've got to get to the airport. Our flight's in a few hours. It would be helpful if you'd consider coming with us. The lassie can use all the help she can get. It'll only get more dangerous once we're in the old world. If you’ve ever wanted to be a knight sheildin’ the fair lady, now’s your time."
James's eyes narrowed as he looked down on the gruagach. He felt the back of his neck growing red with the first flames of anger. He tamped them down, wondering how much Eamon knew about the private areas of his life. "How am I going to get on a plane to Scotland in a few hours without a passport?"
"Och, well…that's not really much of a problem…" Eamon reached into one of the large pockets of his coat and handed some papers to James, "There you go, plane ticket in your name, and your passport."