A Grave Inheritance

by Kari Edgren

  “Well, miss, once you left the room he told her that she was no friend of his and then challenged every man present who would dare speak ill of you to a duel.”

  My hand flew to my mouth. “He didn’t!”

  Peter laughed softly. “Don’t worry, miss. Not one of those gentlemen was brave enough to accept his lordship’s challenge, though I’d wager an eyetooth he would have faced the whole lot of them if need be. Last I heard he was searching for you.” Laughter came from the garden and Peter glanced over my shoulder. “Looks like we’ve got some more lost guests—ladies and gents by the sound of it.”

  I sighed heavily, dreading the impending encounter.

  “Don’t worry, miss, there’s another way if you want to leave incognito. I’d do the same after the snubbing you got earlier.”

  He seemed to have read my mind. “Oh, Peter, that would be wonderful!”

  “This way, then, if you will.” We walked the short distance to the same metal door that Cate and I had come through several nights before. Lifting a thick iron bar, Peter opened the door and stepped out with me onto the road. “Go up that way,” he said, pointing to my left. “Stay to the road. It will curve around to the main gate where you can hire a sedan chair to take you home. The road’s safe enough, but I can find a lad if you’re worried about walking alone.”

  “Please, don’t trouble yourself. I really don’t mind the dark.” I gave him my sweetest smile. “Thank you, Peter.”

  “My pleasure, miss. Any friend of Lady Dinley’s is a friend of mine.” He saluted, then stepped back into the courtyard and closed the door.

  The light from the lanterns vanished, leaving me alone in the darkness. Wasting no time, I lifted my skirts and started along the road, the palace wall on one side and what appeared to be dense woodland on the other. I generally didn’t fear the dark, but no sooner had I gone ten steps than a sense of unease settled in my stomach. The short hairs stood up on my nape, and I quickened my pace, throwing furtive looks toward the woods.

  Hell and furies! When had I become such a sniveling coward?

  The air felt much colder outside the palace grounds. I shivered, my trepidation growing with every step. The woods were eerily silent, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was not alone. The feeling was so strong, I half expected to see bulky shadows emerging from the trees and underbrush when I turned to get a better look. Rather than shadows, the slightest movement caught my eye, a flicker of white against the darkness, there one moment, then gone. My feet came to a dead stop. I strained my ears, but could hear nothing over the violent thumping of my own heart.

  Ice ran along my spine. Trembling, I backed up a step, my hands clenched around two large handfuls of silk. Every muscle taut, I continued this way, unwilling to take my eyes from the woods for even a moment.

  A stick snapped in the undergrowth. The sound spun me around, sent me bolting forward, my feet pounding against the compacted dirt. The road curved ahead, and I knew the main gate couldn’t be much farther.

  A low rumbling noise came through the night. At first I thought it was thunder, but the noise grew louder and took on physical form as a carriage careened around the corner. It headed straight toward me, lamps lit on either side of the driver who was frantically whipping the horses to greater speed. Merciful God! I’m saved...

  Branches cracked and snapped in the woods, a chaotic, terrifying sound that froze me to the bone. I jerked my head around, gasping as an enormous, white hound crashed out of the brush onto the road behind me, its lithe body still for a split second before taking off in pursuit. Shaking with fear, I forced my feet to keep moving, to run as though the devil were after me.

  The carriage lurched to a stop and the door swung open. The hound was right behind me. Lunging, its teeth snagged the hem of my dress. The material ripped, and I stumbled straight into Cate. Grabbing my shoulders, she pushed me behind her, placing herself directly in the hound’s path.

  No! I tried to scream. It will kill you!

  The hound yelped only once. I turned and saw Cate standing over its pale, lifeless form.

  “Tá an cailín mianach,” she hissed. “Fill ar ais le do mháistir, cú an bháis.”

  I stared at her, the Gaelic words slowly taking shape in my head.

  The girl is mine. Return to your master, hound of death.

  Chapter Ten

  Indifference

  My lungs burned from running. I needed air to slow the rapid rise and fall of my chest. Near to fainting, I leaned against the carriage for support, my eyes fixed on Cate’s back. She stood over the hound, watching as the blue flames engulfed the enormous body. It was gone in a matter of seconds, reduced to a pile of white ash.

  Return to you master, hound of death.

  “Well, that’s that,” Cate said, brushing her hands together as she turned to face me. “The next rainfall will take care of the rest. Shall we go?”

  I couldn’t speak. The shock had stolen my words, paralyzed my mouth. Swaying slightly, I pressed myself harder against the carriage.

  Cate placed a hand on my arm, her expression serious. “Cailleach’s hounds rarely travel alone and I’d rather not face an entire pack so close to the palace gates. Please get into the carriage before it’s too late. I promise, you’ve nothing to fear from me.”

  An image popped into my head, clear as day and so real I nearly cried out in fear. Hounds were everywhere, prowling the woods, whining anxiously as they awaited another chance to strike. This other, more terrifying possibility quelled my apprehension toward Cate. Still light-headed, I swayed again at the carriage door. Cate caught my elbow and gave me a boost inside where I flopped onto the padded leather bench. It was pitch black until she came in a moment later holding a lantern. Sitting on the opposite bench, she looked the picture of serenity in the small circle of light, her gown immaculate and every auburn curl pinned in place. A familiar smile played on her face, the smile of a perfectly composed, slightly amused lady.

  The driver whistled and the carriage lurched forward, the momentum pressing me farther into the seat back. The horses picked up speed, and we were soon hurtling down the road away from the palace. No longer running for my life or facing imminent death, my breath slowed and the dizziness faded from my head. I stared at Cate, ours eyes locked as one question rose up amongst a thousand.

  “Who are you?” I asked, my voice even despite the emotions churning inside of me.

  “I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out by now, given how careless I’ve been of late. In the very least, the hound’s demise should have told you something of my identity.”

  I stared at her in silence. To be sure, I had killed one of the creatures myself, but only with the help of Brigid’s knife. And even that had been an accident. Cate had killed one with her bare hands, the same small, delicate hands now folded demurely in her lap. If anything the incident told me that this woman was more deadly than a gigantic, bloodthirsty hound. Maybe even a whole pack.

  Cate sighed. “Perhaps we should try a different approach.” She glanced at my arm. “What do you think happened to the burn you got at the docks? Quite a coincidence that it disappeared the same night you fainted on my front steps, no? I admit it was hardly necessary to sustain life, but such burns can be troublesome for our kind. If left untreated, there’s a good chance the wound would have festered, so you should be thankful that I went ahead and healed it. Besides,” she said, wrinkling her nose, “it was unsightly.”

  Our kind.

  The notion left a sour taste in my mouth, a taste I associated with deceit and gullibility. I brushed a hand across the newly mended skin, desperate for another explanation.

  Nothing. Absolutely nothing. “You did this?”

  “That hound must have rattled your wits more than I thought,” she laughed. “Of course it was me. I also left the basket on the
porch.”

  Words failed me, and I blinked at her as the facts continued to pile up between us. Is it possible?

  Julian had been so easy to believe the first time we met, but Cate...to believe her now would mean she had been playing me false for the past week. I studied her face, the eyes I had so readily trusted, trying to decipher the truth from the lies.

  She winked at me. “Stop looking so grim. I’ve saved your life twice now. That alone should be proof to my identity and that I mean you no harm.”

  I gave her a puzzled look. There was little doubt she had saved me tonight, but twice?

  “You poured so much of your own life into little Charlie, the boy will probably live to be a hundred years old. Fortunately, I was at home when Henry carried you into the drawing room, or your spirit wouldn’t have been able to hold on much longer. Yet from the look on your face, you still doubt my sincerity. Maybe I should have just grown a strawberry rather than kill Cailleach’s hound? Though to be fair, I haven’t the green thumb like Julian.”

  I started. “You know about him?”

  “More or less. I was acquainted with his mother years ago, and have been keeping an eye on him since he arrived in London this past spring. As for the strawberry, one of my spies followed the two of you into the garden. I knew the hounds were loose tonight, and when word arrived that you had stumbled into the king’s private courtyard, I was already waiting in the carriage. Peter, bless his heart, nearly signed your death warrant by letting you out that way. A few more seconds and you would have been beyond even my reach, which is saying something.” Her dark blue eyes sparkled with amusement. “Have I convinced you yet? Most goddess born need only hear ‘Brigid Burdach’ to be satisfied. Shall I list the bitter herbs or recite the words to cross over? Maybe I could describe Brigid herself and her garden in the Otherworld? Would that suffice?”

  I shook my head, the truth undeniable. “I believe you, it’s just so much to take in at one time. Why didn’t you tell me when I first arrived in London?” Why did you lie to me?

  “And reveal my identity to an unknown girl from the Colonies?” She raised her brows in speculation. “Unlike Julian, I take the time to evaluate a person’s character instead of rushing in head first. That’s why I offered my home once Henry told me your name. If Cailleach hadn’t forced my hand tonight, I would have waited even longer before telling you. One cannot be too careful with secrets.”

  There was that name again. Cailleach. The beginning hard, the ending guttural. Kailoch. It sounded strangely familiar, in an unpleasant sort of way. I shook as gooseflesh rose up on my arms. “Who is Cailleach?”

  She gave me an incredulous look. “Good gracious, Selah, didn’t you learn any of the old stories when you were younger? Cailleach is the goddess of death and disease, and that enormous white hound was one of her pets. She keeps a whole pack in the Otherworld to guard the gates of death. Your mother should have taught you all about them.”

  Death and disease...an opposite to all things. These words offered a shadowy memory from my past. “I hated the scary stories when I was a little girl. She was probably waiting until I grew older.” But then she died, and my father knew only bits and pieces of the old stories. It had been the blind leading the blind.

  “Well, one of Cailleach’s descendants is currently running around London spreading the pox, and it has been all I can do just to keep up with the little chit.”

  Her words jumped inside me and I nearly choked on my own breath. “I...I thought only Brigid had living descendants.”

  “Oh dear,” Cate said, shaking her head. “I forget the sequestered life you’ve been living in the Colonies. Many of the Tuatha Dé left offspring in the human world. Cailleach’s just happen to be our mortal enemies. For the past month this one has been leading me a chase through London, and the most I’ve learned is that she goes by the name Deri.”

  My head felt near to bursting. I rubbed my temple, to no effect. Just a bit ago, I had been worried about having Amelia for an enemy. Now I had a mortal enemy. With a pack of angry hounds.

  “If I’m not mistaken,” Cate continued, “you’ve already met her at the docks the day she grabbed your arm and left that nasty burn.”

  The memory came tumbling back, how we had both gasped the moment her fingers tightened around my bare arm. For the past week, I had tried hard to deny the possibility of frostbite for fear that I was losing my mind. Or worse yet, that she had some connection to Mr. Chubais. Everything has its opposite. Deri was cold as death, born of ice as I had been born of fire. Opposing elements and mortal enemies.

  She pursed her lips in thought. “You ought to consider changing your surname as I did when I first left Ireland. With how people were talking this fall, she must have known exactly where to find you. My guess, she wanted to gauge your strength and received a similar burn in return.”

  Yet I wasn’t her only target. “She also attacked the boy outside your house.”

  “I figured it was her. She has been leaving similar calling cards for me all over the city. Poor Charlie is still shaken up over the incident, though at least he has the benefit of being alive. Hannah wasn’t so lucky. Deri got to her when no one else was around.” A heavy weariness crept into Cate’s voice. “I can only pray that the sickness took her quickly.”

  No matter how quickly, my heart clenched at the thought of any child dying alone, covered in pox and fighting for every breath. “Why is she doing this?”

  “Because it is in her nature, just like healing is in our nature.”

  “But why go after children?”

  “Death has always favored the very old and the very young. Besides, Deri is just a child herself and most likely hasn’t the strength yet to kill a healthy adult quite so readily.” Cate sighed, signaling her frustration. “The question isn’t so much her attacking children, but why these children in specific. Rather than choosing victims at random, she has purposefully gone after those in my care, and with a maliciousness I have not seen in a very long time. Cailleach’s descendants tend to infect people, and then allow the disease to take its natural course whether that be life or death. This girl is an anomaly, even to her own blood. She has resorted to outright killing for the pure joy of it.” Cate laughed darkly. “The last person I knew like this carried blood from both Cailleach and Arawn, the god of death and terror. Not a good combination by any account. This particular descendant started the black plague and kept it raging for years until a third of Europe’s inhabitants were dead. If I were to guess, this girl has a similar ancestry.”

  Great. So, my mortal enemy was also a deranged lunatic. “How do we stop her?”

  “We have to find her first. The girl strikes fast and then disappears even faster. But don’t worry, she won’t attempt to attack you outright. As she discovered at the docks, you each have an immunity of sorts to the other’s power.”

  “How lucky of me,” I huffed. “Rather than infect me directly with the pox, she’ll use a pack of hounds to do her dirty work.”

  Cate shook her head, her face tight with thought. “To be honest, I don’t think the two events are related. Cailleach has been known to send her hounds after some of Brigid’s stronger descendants if she feels the balance is at risk between our kind. But I’ve never known her to work directly with one of her own offspring to meddle in human affairs. After tonight, there’s little question she wishes you dead, but I’ve no reason to suspect she is working in tandem with Deri.”

  Mr. Chubais flashed again in my mind, his pale skin and pink eyes, the ragged teeth when he lunged for my neck. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been attacked by one of those creatures.”

  Cate’s eyes lit with curiosity. “What do you mean?”

  “The day before I left the Colonies, a man came to Brighmor asking about my grandmother. He returned later that night in the form of a hound and attacked me.�
� My chest tightened from the memories and I started to twist one of my rings. “I thought I was going to die, but then he laughed at me and I got so mad that I wanted to tear his heart out. I killed him with Brigid’s knife.”

  My voice trailed to silence. The story sounded even worse when spoken aloud, and I stared at Cate, desperate for some sort of reassurance of my sanity. She said nothing at first as her gaze slipped past mine to settle on the cushion behind me.

  “So the hounds finally found Sarah,” she said softly. “But they were thirty years too late.”

  It took a moment for my brain to catch up. “How do you know about my grandmother?”

  Cate’s eyes snapped back to mine. “Henry told me how that hateful man drowned both your mother and grandmother. And then tried to burn you alive in your own bed.”

  The scars on my foot prickled from the memory. “He...he thought we were cursed.”

  “Mr. Sweeney was a madman who killed innocent women for the sole crime of helping others.” She snorted her disgust. “This other man though explains why the hounds started sniffing about the very day your ship arrived. For the life of me I couldn’t figure out why Cailleach was so quick to release her pets. Even if Deri had shared the local gossip, the name Selah Kilbrid would warrant little notice from the goddess. But Selah Kilbrid, descendant of Sarah McBres, would mean everything in the world. It must have been the hound you killed who told her once he returned to the Otherworld. Did he happen to give you a name? Not that it matters, since those creatures are so fond of lying.”

  “He said his name was Mr. Chubais.”

  Cate gave a sudden burst of laughter. “Oh, how original. Mr. Death’s hound. Certainly he could have created a better alias than that.”

  The words raced through my head. Hound...death...cú...báis. I nearly groaned out loud from the obvious play on words. “I should have known.”

  She flicked her wrist. “Well, what he lacked in imagination, he made up for in strength. Not every hound can take human form. That trick is reserved for the oldest and most powerful of Cailleach’s pets, and I can imagine her disappointment when only his spirit returned home. You’re fortunate he won’t be strong enough to venture out again for several hundred years. Those hounds do hold a grudge.”