Midnight Moon (The Unbidden Magic Series)

by Marilee Brothers

  “Nothing bad,” I said. “You have a visitor.”

  Cassidy stepped forward and boomed, “Please allow us to enter and all will be explained.”

  Mike narrowed his eyes. “Who the hell are you?”

  “This is Brian Cassidy,” I said. “Your Tuatha uncle.” I cast a nervous glance up and down the hall. “Now, can we please come in?”

  Mike, still looking suspicious, stepped back so we could enter the dimly lit room. Clad in boxer shorts and a tee shirt, his hair sticking out in every possible direction, Mike was groggy with sleep. He snagged a pair of jeans and slipped them on before turning on the overhead light.

  He crossed his arms and stared at Cassidy. “What’s this all about?”

  I perched on the end of the bed, eager to hear the answer.

  Cassidy pulled out a chair and sat. “First, I must explain the ways of Tuatha.”

  I stifled a groan. I needed sleep.

  Apparently Mike felt the same way. He sighed and leaned against a large wooden dresser. “Make it fast.”

  Cassidy huffed, “Truly, I expected a warmer welcome from my nephew. However, time is short, so I will attempt to be brief.” Then, he stopped talking. Swear to God, it was like the man worked at being irritating.

  Mike snarled, “So?”

  “While most of the faery world is ruled by women, the Tuatha are a male-dominated society.”

  I knew there was a reason I didn’t like him.

  Cassidy continued, “Therefore, what I am about to teach you must be done without the presence of your daughter.”

  I shot off the bed. “What? Who do you think brought you here?”

  “Hush, child,” Cassidy said. “I appreciate your help, but this must be done properly. Trust me, you will benefit from your father’s new skill. Indeed, it may even save your life and those of your friends.”

  His words put the situation in a whole new light. Sure, I wanted to be included in their big, male-dominated secret, but when it came down to life and death, it was time to put my ego aside.

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll go wait in the car. How long will this take?”

  “Not long,” Cassidy said. “Since we must be out-of-doors for our lesson, we will accompany you to the parking lot.”

  Could I trust Uncle Brian? He’d been plenty tricky in the past. But the words save your life and those of your friends made me put my suspicions aside. Back in the car, I was consumed with curiosity, sorely tempted to follow Mike and Cassidy as they trudged to the far end of the motel and disappeared from sight.

  Teagan shook his finger in the rearview mirror. “Don’t even think about it.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I muttered.

  I curled up on the big backseat and tried to relax. A gust of wind rocked the big car. I watched out the window as it swirled through the parking lot, scattering empty drink cups and plastic bags in its wake. It ran out of steam when it spun around the corner of the building. Must be a storm brewing.

  Excitement over, I dozed off.

  The next thing I knew, the door flew open, and my father was smiling down at me. His eyes were bright with secret knowledge. He looked happier than I’d ever seen him look. “See you in a few hours,” he said.

  I sat up and tried to focus. “Yeah, okay. See ya soon.”

  Mike and Cassidy shook hands and exchanged a few words, spoken too softly for me to understand. Looked like Mike and Brian Cassidy had done some male bonding.

  On the trip home, I peppered Cassidy with questions. He answered most of them with a shrug. Until I asked the right one. “Why are you helping us?”

  He reached out and tenderly stroked my hair. “Because, my dear, you made a promise to me. I want to make sure you’re around to keep it.”

  “Oh,” I said, chagrined. “You mean the whole faeries-coming-out-of-the-closet thing. I thought, now that you’re with Luminata, things would be different.”

  He shook his head. “It’s true, I am happy with Luminata, but I have my folk to care for. If the Tuatha are to continue, we must have access to the mortal world.”

  I nodded, satisfied that my uncle wasn’t totally it’s-all-about-me. “If I survive tomorrow night, I’ll keep my promise.”

  “Very good. Now, tell me this. If you are successful in defeating the Trimarks, you will then be without the moonstone?”

  I nodded.

  “In that case,” my uncle said. “You may lose some of your powers. Therefore, we must capture your ability on videotape. We must have proof of your ability in order to convince the mortal world that faeries dwell among them.”

  How lucky was I? My uncle was not only a powerful faery, he knew how to operate a camcorder. As it turned out, he knew how to order Teagan to operate a camcorder.

  I sighed. “Okay, what do you want me to do?”

  Thirty minutes later, Teagan had filmed me using TKP to send a pile of empty bins whirling through the air, lift Faye’s truck off the ground and, for a grand finale, cause Blaster the bull to soar to the far end of his pasture. Then, I stopped the world. Yes, I could do that if the moon was visible and the moonstone was turned to a special setting. Since Brian and Teagan were fae, they weren’t affected by my spell. My uncle watched as Teagan continued to film the silent, silver-coated world I’d created.

  When I’d started the world spinning again, I asked Brian Cassidy, “Are we done?”

  “Yes,” he said. “But I’ve left you a small reminder of your promise. You will see it when you look in the mirror.”

  “Okay,” I said, expecting I’d see my cheeks sparkling with faery dust or some such nonsense. I waved goodbye.

  I tiptoed into the trailer and checked on Faye, who was still sleeping soundly. I tore up the note, flipped on the light in the bathroom and reached for my toothbrush. Then, I caught sight of myself in the mirror and Cassidy’s small reminder. Swear to God, my faery uncle had put a rainbow streak in my hair!

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  SIX A.M. TUESDAY.

  Mike sat in his car with the motor running, waiting for me to tell my mother goodbye. Faye was in no shape to travel and was totally bummed about it. She couldn’t decide whether to be mad or sad, so she was a little of both.

  She cradled her broken arm with her right hand and glared at me through the tears gushing from her eyes. “Damn it, Allie, you better come back here in one piece.”

  “That’s the plan.” I gave her a careful hug. “Gotta go. I’ll be in touch.”

  I had to get away quick before I got caught up in mother/daughter mood contagion. That’s how it was between my mother and me. When Faye’s lower lip trembled, so did mine. When her eyes sparked with anger and her voice turned shrieky, me too. I’d finally rebounded from crybaby mode and no way was I going to be sucked back in.

  Faye and I had a bad start to our morning. I’d been awakened at five a.m. by my mother screeching, “Oh my God! What happened to your hair?”

  Yep, the rainbow thing was still there. I was hoping it would wear off after a few hours but no such luck.

  I grabbed my backpack and headed for the door.

  Faye followed me out. I climbed into Mike’s car, and Faye’s pale face appeared in the driver’s side window. She motioned for him to lower it. “Bring her back to me, Mike.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “You stay safe too,” she added.

  He nodded and zipped the window up.

  When we pulled up in front of Beck and Nicole’s house, I hurriedly tucked my hair under a ball cap. I didn’t need a fashion critique from Nicole this morning.

  Beck, wearing hiking boots, tan shorts and a black Moose Drool tee shirt, bounded down the front steps, a large backpack slung over one shoulder. A grumpy-looking Nicole, dressed in a bright yellow tee and jeans, appeared, followed by her mother, Melissa. Nicole staggered down the stairs, missed the last one and almost fell on her butt. I read her lips through the car window, and it looked to me like she dropped the F bomb. Her mother spoke to Nicole s
harply and shoved a pink backpack into her arms.

  Melissa opened my door while Beck stowed the packs. She cupped my face in her hands and dropped a kiss on my forehead. “Are you still wearing the cross?” Melissa was a devout Catholic. She’d given me the silver cross I wore next to the moonstone.

  “Yes, always. Even when I shower.”

  “Good. I know it will keep you safe. Beck and Nicole are wearing theirs. I have one for your father as well.”

  She reached across me and handed Mike a little box.

  “Thanks,” he said, tucking it into the center console.

  “No,” Melissa said. “Put it on. Now.”

  When Melissa used her almost-a-nun voice, there was no arguing with her.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Mike said with a grin. He opened the box. “There’s two crosses in here. Do you want me to wear them both?”

  “It’s always good to have a spare,” Melissa said. She leaned into the car and kissed Beck and Nicole goodbye. She placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. “May God keep you safe.”

  “Amen,” I breathed. I always felt better when Melissa Bradford prayed over me. “See ya soon, Mrs. B.”

  About halfway to the airport, Nicole came to life. I was riding shotgun. She was seated directly behind me.

  “Hey, Allie,” she said.

  I turned to see her studying the hair poking out of the back of my cap.

  “Yeah?”

  “That. Is. So. Cool.”

  “Huh?”

  She snatched my hat off and touched a finger to the rainbow streak. “Your hair, dummy. When did you have time to get your hair foiled? Why didn’t you tell me you were doing something special? I would have done it too. My God, I didn’t know a stylist could even do rainbow highlights. Way cool.”

  I glanced over at Mike. “It’s kind of a faery thing.”

  He smiled. “Uncle Brian?”

  I nodded.

  After Mike parked his rental car, we straggled into the terminal of the Vista Valley airport, lugging our backpacks. Beck, usually taciturn, chattered non-stop about small aircraft, weight specifications, fuel burn, maximum speed, yada, yada, yada until I felt like growling, “Give it a rest. We’re not going to Disneyland.”

  Yeah, I was feeling a little uptight, and not only about the task ahead. I’d never flown before. My entire knowledge of small aircraft was based on a local news story describing a tragic accident. An entire family from Vista Valley had perished when their small plane crashed into the foothills next to the airport. I couldn’t get the gory image of their smashed-up plane out of my mind.

  W and B (Wayne and Beverly) of Eppic Air were waiting for us inside. Wayne smiled and stepped forward to greet us, offering his hand to Mike. “Mr. Purdy? I’m Wayne. This is Beverly. Are you ready to roll?” His voice was deep and resonant, like a preacher I’d seen on TV, which, strangely, made me feel better. He was dressed in jeans, white sneakers and a tee shirt that said, “We’re Eppic.” He exuded confidence.

  I resumed breathing.

  Wayne said, “Beverly here will take care of the pre-boarding details. I’ll go get the bird ready.”

  Beverly, his vertically challenged assistant/wife, clad in orange denim pants, a matching jacket and golf visor, stepped forward and said, “Follow me, please. I need to weigh all of you and your luggage.”

  She set off across the lobby so fast we had to scurry to keep up.

  Beck spotted the Eppic plane. “Cessna H206. Sweet!”

  Nicole grumbled. “Why do we have to get weighed?”

  Beck said, “Because there’s a cargo weight limit of 1,424 pounds, that’s why. Right, Beverly?”

  Without slackening her pace, she glanced over her shoulder and gave Beck a brief smile. “Right. How did you know that?”

  “I read a lot,” he said.

  As we approached the industrial-strength scale, I stopped breathing again. Panic fluttered in my chest. I whispered, “What if we’re overweight? Will we crash?”

  Beck chuckled, “Relax. There are six passengers. Along with our backpacks, we’d each have to weigh 237 pounds to reach the max. Your skinny little butt plus Nikki’s, probably top out at 240. We’ll be fine.”

  “So, how much do you weigh?”

  “About 175–180.”

  I stopped walking and did some mental calculations. “Okay, that’s approximately 420 pounds. How much do you think Mike weighs? And Beverly? And Wayne? And our backpacks?” My voice had gone shrill with barely suppressed hysteria. Geez, how could I save the world if the plane crashed?

  Beck took hold of my arm and pulled me forward. “Trust me, we don’t have a problem. That’s why she’s weighing us. To make sure. Okay?”

  Beverly turned and glared at me over the top of her spectacles. She clapped her hands sharply. “Chop! Chop! No malingering. We have a schedule to keep.”

  “I think my daughter’s nervous,” Mike said. “She’s never flown before.”

  Beverly’s face softened. She walked back to me and put an arm around my shoulders. “You’ll be fine, dear. Wayne is the best bush pilot in the Northwest.”

  “Bush pilot?” I shrieked. “Are we going to land in a bush?”

  “No, no,” she soothed, patting my back. “That’s what pilots are called who fly in and out of Alaska, where they sometimes have to land in the tundra. We’ll be setting down on a nice smooth landing strip in Gillette, Wyoming. No worries, dear. Okay?”

  She pulled me to the scale.

  Suck it up, Allie. Stop being such a whiney wimp.

  After all was said and done, turned out I had nothing to worry about. Weight-wise, at least. All of us, plus our luggage, came to the grand total of 1,115 pounds. I resumed breathing. For the moment.

  The airport people ushered us through the gate and out the double glass doors. My legs trembled as I approached the pretty little plane. White with two blue swooshes down the side, its clamshell door gaped open. Wayne waited for us, a broad smile on his face.

  Beverly bustled up to Wayne and, in a loud whisper that I probably wasn’t supposed to hear, said, “We have a nervous Nelly.”

  Wayne’s gaze scanned the group and settled on my face, which no doubt was a ghastly shade of greenish-yellow. Those of us with olive skin tones do not pale prettily.

  “Allie,” he boomed, holding out a hand. “You come with me. I want you sitting right behind me so you can help me fly this thing.”

  Mike slipped an arm around my shoulders and led me toward the door. “Come on, Allie. You can do it. I’ll sit next to you.”

  Beck stepped up behind me. “Take a look at Nicole’s face. You’re scaring the crap outta her.”

  A wide-eyed Nicole was glancing over her shoulder like she was calculating her chances of escape. Now I knew why she hadn’t been making fun of me.

  I breathed deeply and clambered up the stairs. “Yay, here we go!”

  “Good girl,” Mike said, following me inside the plane.

  There was a double row of seats behind the pilot and co-pilot/assistant, with two seats each. Mike and I sat behind W and B. Beck and Nicole sat behind us. Nicole was uncharacteristically quiet. Beck leaned forward, peering around Mike to get a better look at the cockpit. Wayne started the engines and clapped on headphones. Fortunately, the engine noise muted the sound of my panicky breathing.

  Wayne turned in his seat and made eye contact with me. “Ready to roll?”

  I tried to respond, but no words came out. Wayne’s face grew fuzzy around the edges. I saw his lips move but couldn’t hear a single word. Probably because my head was filled with a buzzing sound like a bajillion bees were using it for their apartment. Then Wayne’s face faded away completely, and I saw brilliant stars shooting across a field of black.

  At some level, I was aware of concerned murmurs, a flurry of activity and the crinkle of paper. A moment later, my senses returned. Oh my God, I was blind! I opened my mouth to scream and sucked in a mouthful of paper. I lifted a hand and patted my face. More pape
r crinkling.

  “Hey!” I yelled, my voice muffled by paper. “Maybe I look scared but isn’t it a little harsh to put a bag over my head?”

  I tried to pull it off, but Mike held my hands captive. “Just leave it, Allie. You blacked out because you hyperventilated, that’s all.”

  “Well, damn,” I said in a small voice.

  Someday, when I’m old and decide to write my memoir, an important bit of information will be missing. Like what I saw as the plane taxied down the runway at Vista Valley, gathered speed, lifted sharply and soared into the bright blue sky. Must have been awesome. I didn’t see it because I had a paper bag over my head.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  GILLETTE, WYOMING. Wal-Mart.

  I sat in a canvas folding chair feeling jumpy and out-of-sorts, like I’d been transported to an alien planet before my mind and body had a chance to catch up. Mike and Beck were loading up two shopping carts with the camping gear we’d need at Devils Tower.

  Wal-Mart wasn’t the source of my problem. Neither was the flight with Eppic Air. Once I stopped freaking out, I’d actually enjoyed soaring over checkerboard farms, lush green forests and snow-capped mountains. After a short stop for refueling in Missoula, Montana, we’d cruised into Gillette, where Wayne set the little plane down on the smooth airstrip that Beverly had promised.

  W and B bid us farewell and promised to come back for us whenever we needed them.

  No, my sense of uneasiness began the moment I stepped into the Gillette Air Terminal. It’s hard to describe, but here goes: Imagine a thick dark cloud rolling toward you. No matter how fast you run, you can’t get out of its path. It surrounds you, seeps in through your pores, spreads through your body, and you know you’re in the presence of evil.

  I tried to convince myself the weird feeling was an aftermath of my emotional meltdown and hyperventilation. Maybe jet lag? Nope, too short a hop. Deep in my heart I knew what I was feeling. I’d felt it before. It was exactly the same feeling I’d experienced while in the presence of Trimarks.

  I tried to puzzle it out. Gillette was a nice little town full of nice, friendly people. Not a haven for Trimarks. Why, then, was I getting the evil vibe? Was it possible hundreds of Trimarks were gathering here in preparation for their big night? I barely suppressed a shiver. I knew we’d soon be facing grave danger, but I didn’t know how it was going to play out. That part of it, the not knowing what to expect part, was making me nuts.