by B. J. Smash
Without a word, Izadora jumped into the air taking the form of an eagle, and she flew off over the ocean into the darkness, away from the luminescent city.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“There will be a meeting of the forces.” Izadora sat in her usual chair outside, at the tree trunk table. It was the following morning, and the sun had barely risen. Drumm and I had slept in the tree house waiting for Izadora’s return, after we had watched my father safely arrive at Ian's gate. He had been overly anxious to hear any news of his own father.
“Ivy has summoned Montague. If he shows, all the better. If not, it will be myself versus Izaill and Magella.”
“How did this come about?” Drumm questioned. His face turned as pale as a pearl.
“I”—she clenched her teeth together and pursed her lips, causing the wrinkles around her mouth to stand out—“requested a meeting. It is necessary.”
“You can't talk any sense into those two. You know it won't end well…and it will be you against them.” Drumm paced the floor in a panic-stricken way.
“Sit down, boy, you are going to wear my floorboards down.”
“I can't sit down. Why would you do such a thing?”
“You have no faith in me? Yes, it would be better for Monty to show—the two of us could take them down, if needs be—but I cannot control Monty. I don't even know where he is.”
“Maybe he'll show,” I volunteered.
“I have my doubts. Monty never liked his family,” she sulked.
I left them both to return to Gran's. My father and I had planned to eat breakfast together. And it came as no surprise to find Ian at the gate. He had nodded off in his chair, and the coffee that he held in his hand had tilted sideways.
“Ian,” I said.
“Huh? I didn't do it.” His eyes were still clamped shut.
“Ian!” I said more loudly.
He snorted, rubbed his eyes, and opened them. “What? What!” he said.
“What do you mean you didn't do it? Do you have a guilty conscience or something?”
“No”—he yawned—“I was dreaming about a woman who spilled water down the front of her blouse, and…well…”
I shook my head. “Never mind, you’re hopeless.”
“I've been waiting for you, Miss Seaforth. Nothing like giving one a good scare. Your father came through earlier, and, oh, was I glad to see him. But you—you stayed behind.”
“Didn't he tell you where I would be? You're worse than my own father. He wouldn't have left me behind if he didn't trust me to be all right.”
“I heard about what happened,” he said, ignoring my comment. “Your father told me. The only thing that can kill a Fae instantly? Hell hounds. The only other thing is metal. They hate metal. You'd think silver bullets would do it, but those are meant for werewolves—”
“Werewolves? You're telling me there are such things as werewolves?”
“No, there is no such thing as werewolves. Seriously? You even have to ask? But if there were, silver bullets would kill them.”
“I find out that the Fae are real, elves are real, and witches are definitely real, and you chastise me when I ask about werewolves?”
“You are straying from the point. Now listen, where is Izadora?”
“She's back at the tree house.”
“She's fine, then. Good.”
“She's fine for now, but she has called forth a ‘meeting of the elements.’” I said the last part using my fingers to make quotations.
“She didn't!” Ian said, dumbfounded.
“Drumm is upset about it. We're hoping Montague will show.”
“Well, you summoned him, so he may show. You do know that he's not been around for some time. He likes to remain hidden, detached from the other three siblings. I don't know if he will show. It is not likely.”
“But if he does?”
“Then if a fight breaks out, it will be a fair match. Izaill and Magella versus Izadora and Montague.”
I hoped for Izadora's sake that he'd show. I never fully understood Ian's connection to Izadora, but he seemed genuinely concerned about her.
We finished our walk to the house, and Ian seemed deep in thought about something.
When we walked into the sunroom, Mrs. Pumbleton had the phone up to her ear. “Oh, he just came in, sir, would you like to speak to him now?” Ian wheeled forward, his hand out for the phone.
“Who is it, Mrs. Pumbleton?”
“Your father,” she said as she handed him the phone.
“Where did you say your father was again?” I asked Ian.
“France.” He placed the phone up to his ear. “Father, hello. I haven't heard from you. Oh…you’re on your way home. What a surprise! Splendid.” Ian winked at me and waved as I left the house.
Walking home, it occurred to me that I had never asked about Old Sam. I'd met him as a child and seen him those few times at the Easter egg hunts, and he was a kind old man. A thought that should have passed through my mind…stuck there. Could it be? Could Old Sam be Montague? He, after all, was on his way home.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Father and I had a good breakfast with the rest of the family. Grandfather was back, and he looked weak, but he was recovering. The whole family sat around the table eating pancakes with real maple syrup and wild Maine blueberries. Topping mine with blueberries, I listened to my grandfather's account of what happened that day.
He remembered fishing with my father in the small boat, pulling in a few little salmon and a good-sized trout. They had retired early that evening, and that's all he could recall. The next thing he knew, he was in a hospital bed, being told that he'd been in a coma and that his son was missing.
“I don't remember anything, son. I had no idea you were gone. What did they do to you?” Grandpa said.
“Fairyland is like nothing I have ever experienced. They have dances in huge ballrooms that are built halfway into the side of the mountains, the other half exposed to the outside, and the moon is always shining through the glass roof. There are tables and tables of delicious foods, and a chocolate fountain that had to be fifteen feet tall. Glasses of some sort of ambrosia were never emptied.” He took a bite of pancakes; his face soured as though the food were dreadful. “I tried for days to starve myself. In the end, I couldn't help it. I had heard the stories of being stranded there if you eat their food, but I had to eat. I believe I would have perished.” He set his fork down. “And the dancing…they never stopped. They never slept! At least I never saw them sleep.”
“Did they have little dragons the size of puppies that flew strawberries into the chocolate fountain and returned them to your plate?” I asked. I set my fork down, as I had just lost my appetite.
“Ivy?” Gran appeared mystified.
“Why yes, yes they did. And several unknown varieties of fruit. How did you know?” My father looked overly confused.
“I dreamt that Zinnia was at a place similar to the one you described,” I said.
His face collapsed into a frown. “Your dream was probably correct.”
“We will find a way to get her back. Don't you worry, son.” Granddad consoled him.
GG Edmund sat back in his chair with a deep sigh.
“What's wrong, Father?” I touched his trembling hand.
He looked so defeated that it made my heart hurt. “It was the music. I miss the music. It is like nothing you have ever heard—not in a hundred lifetimes. The melodies…I grew to love.”
My throat tightened as I realized what my father was telling us. He missed fairyland.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“It is said in old folklore that once you have visited elfland or fairyland, you are never the same,” Ian told me. He had come down to Gran's house for a chat with my father. Father hadn't responded much, and he ended up falling asleep on the couch. The sun would set soon, and Gran went about preparing a bed for him upstairs.
Aunt Cora and Aunt Clover sat in the living room, wa
tching Father as he slept.
GG Edmund sat with me and Ian at the table.
“I must be going. I should lay out the accounts before Father arrives.” Ian grabbed his crutches, which leaned upon the table. “He will be arriving on one of the jets shortly, and I must be there to greet him.”
“What will happen to my father, Ian?” I asked.
“Well, he came back from elfland once, and he was fine. He'll get over it, I suppose. Just give him time.”
“Have a good evening, Ian. When your father arrives, tell him hello for me. We need to talk soon,” GG Edmund said.
Ian's chauffeur stood ready by the door, holding it open. Ian made his way out, the door shutting behind him.
GG Edmund and I sat alone at the table.
“You better get some rest, Ivy. You look tired,” he said.
“I'm fine,” I lied. I wasn't tired but concerned. Would my father snap out of this dream world of his?
“I better get some rest too,” he said.
“Before you go, Izadora wanted me to relay a message. She seemed concerned that you might think she is…bad,” I said, for lack of a better word. “She told me to tell you that she is of the good side. I don't know why she cares what you think, but there it is. I've told you.”
“Is that so?” His face couldn't be any more solemn. “I know she has helped you, but you are young and naïve. I mean that in a good way. You should remain as ignorant about them as you possibly can.”
I wanted to be able to console him, and tell him that I didn’t know much about them. But no…I couldn’t say that. It would be a lie—I was already in too deep.
Just then, a loud crash of thunder sounded. The pots and pans that hung above the kitchen island clanked together, vibrating. GG Edmund's glasses slid from his face to the floor.
“What was that?” I picked up GG Edmund's glasses and handed them to him.
I ran outside, and was soon followed by everyone in the house—except my father. We all stood and looked out over the trees, up past Ian's. Storm clouds the color of coal drifted in the sky, and lightning bolts flashed continuously over the treetops.
“It has begun,” GG Edmund said, rubbing his elbow. His arthritis had been constantly bothering him lately. I don't think I had ever seen him outside the house since I had arrived.
“What has begun?” I panted; the sky was unnerving me to the core.
“Izadora,” GG Edmund stated flatly.
Before they could stop me, I ran for the McCallister house, and I could hear them calling after me, but I didn’t slow down. I kept going full speed.
“Ivy! Don't go!”
“Ivy! Come back!”
“It's too dangerous!”
I paid them no attention. If a battle was happening, I would be there. I wanted to see Izaill for myself, so I could kick him in the teeth. Although a part of me feared him like a chicken feared a wolf, I still had to be there.
The wind had picked up, scattering my hair all around me, stinging my eyes. Running against it slowed me down, but I persisted.
I didn't even knock on Ian's door; I barged in. Mrs. Pumbleton was walking into the foyer. “Ivy! What are you doing here? Mr. McCallister has left for the airport. His father arrived sooner than expected.”
“It's okay, I don't need him.” I sped through the sunroom, out the French doors, and ran full force through the garden, making record time to the back gate. Occasionally the earth would shake and tremble, causing me to stumble.
I didn’t know how I was going to get through the gate yet…but I would scream at the top of my lungs until Drumm came for me if needs be.
But lady luck was on my side, and awaiting me at the gate was Ian's sister. Once again, goose bumps flooded my arms, and the hairs stood up on end.
She stood by the gate, her chin-length brown hair a mass of unruly curls. Not surprisingly, she wore the same yellow cotton dress that landed just above her knees. Smiling widely, she opened the gate for me, and her intense crazy eyes followed me as I walked through. I feared she would grab me at any moment. She reminded me of someone from an insane asylum. Instead, she giggled.
“Thank you,” I said, “for opening the gate.”
She said not a word but giggled louder. I turned and ran. Was I running from her or running to Izadora's tree house? At the moment, I didn't know.
Drumm was nowhere in sight.
Another loud crash sounded, shaking the earth, and losing my balance, I toppled to the ground. I didn’t stay there for long though. Soon, I was back up on my feet and tearing through the forest. I ran as fast as I could, jumping over a deer that was headed toward Ian’s. Spotting several animals heading that way, I knew they had to be running from something.
Reaching Izadora's, I found no one home. No candlelight emitted from the house and the dogs were gone. “Drumm! Izadora!” I yelled up.
But no answer. Knowing exactly where they'd be, I headed to the other side of Merribay.
***
As I neared the cliffs of Merribay, smoke and a sulfurous odor tainted the air. The chilly air disappeared, leaving my skin warm and clammy. No fireflies were present tonight; the place looked close to doom.
When I reached the vicinity that we had encountered the Fae the previous evening—the place I decided to name the “battle zone”—lightning had struck a tree and blown it to bits.
My guess would be that Izadora had once perched in that tree. Running closer, I was grabbed from behind. “Help!” I screamed. It was the only word that came to mind.
“It's me! We need to stay back – they've gone insane.” Drumm held me close to his chest.
“What is happening?” Waves were the size of towers, and we could hear the roar of the ocean; bolts of lightning were striking all around. Some of the hairs on my head flew up in the air, making me feel like I'd stuck my finger in a light socket.
“They met as planned, and Izaill made a smart remark about how he liked Izadora better hanging from a tree. She lost her temper, to say the least. Within seconds she conjured up a wind tunnel around him, sending him off the side of the cliff. Magella stood by at the shoreline in her houseboat, and sent a bolt of lightning up through the cliff, smashing the rocks into smithereens. The residents of Merribay are not going to be happy.”
Hail fell down through the trees, pelting us and stinging our skin. Drumm pulled me back under a thick copse of trees for shelter. “We must stay out of their way. They need to battle this out. It's been a long time coming.”
“How long do you think this will go on?” I feared there wouldn't be a Merribay remaining by the time they were finished.
“Until one of them is dead, I am guessing.”
My clothes were soaked, and I felt something in my stomach like hunger, but worse. I grabbed my stone necklace for comfort.
Drumm noticed and asked, “What is that?”
“A necklace. GG Edmund gave it to me. He said it was in the basket that my mother dropped me off in at Gran's.”
He lifted it from my hand, observing it well. “A pure elven stone.” He smiled. “I haven't seen one for a while.” His thoughts drifted to another place, another time.
The wind whooshed by, carrying with it parts of a tree. We heard yelling from the edge of the cliff. But shortly after, we heard lowered voices, the hail subsided, and things seemed to settle down long enough for Drumm to decide we should venture forth.
“I must try to talk some sense into Izadora. She must retreat. You stay back a ways, just in case they pick it up again.” His voice was commanding and I let him get ahead of me a ways, but then I followed him anyway.
Izadora stood on a bridge between two trees. The forefront trees had been demolished.
“You! You tortured me for no reason at all, you bloody fool,” she yelled to Izaill. There he stood, as creepy as hell itself, with his bowler cap and a black suit. The undershirt was red, and he wore a red tie. His greasy silver hair hung loose.
“Dressing up for the event, I
see,” I said aloud to myself, which was a sure sign that a panic attack was rising in me.
Drum hid behind a thick tree, and I followed suit.
“You started this, you wasteful old bag. You hid the last of my bonnacon horn powder! You know how hard it is to track those down nowadays,” Izaill said.
“You were abusing your power with it,” Izadora retaliated.
“Who are you to judge if I was abusing my power or not?” Izaill spat, and his face was as red as his shirt.
“Will you two shut up? You are giving me a headache!” Magella yelled from the ocean below. She could easily be heard, as though she spoke through a megaphone. She held tight to the railing of her houseboat with one hand, shaking her fist at her siblings with the other. High waves splashed up and over into the boat, soaking her to the bone.
“Tell me what you know about the girl, Zinnia,” Izadora demanded as she smacked her cane into the plank. Sparks flew out the end of it, making me think of fireworks.
Magella's laughter drifted up over the cliff. “You'll never see the likes of her again. Ba-ha-ha-ha!”
Izadora completely ignored Magella and turned back to Izaill to hear him as he spoke.
“There is nothing to know. She joined the Seelie to escape me, although she will never be completely out of my reach. Magella has seen to that. She convinced Zinnia to take upon the water symbol. What a fool…so trusting, she was.” He smelled the air as though he caught wind of something, and looked my direction. “However, I do not care about Zinnia. What I do care about has just arrived. I smell an elf.” A horrid laugh escaped his mouth, and he then reached inside his coat breast pocket and pulled out something pearl colored. A comb. “Now, I shall have what I need. The elven girl, a princess in her own right. She will come to me.” He began to pace back and forth, expounding on his master plan…something crazy people tend to do. “I will have the girl, Ivy. She will be my hostage until someone pays the right price to receive her back. When I am offered the woods—which is my price, and which is in my brother Montague's power—I will then return her. It's a simple plan, one that will be followed through. And you, Izadora, will be homeless.” He stopped his pacing, faced my direction, and glared me down.
