Eve of Samhain

by Lisa Sanchez

  It took every ounce of self-control I possessed to not yank the book out of her hands and devour the contents of its pages as quickly as possible. Something told me she might get pissy if I attempted to touch her family heirloom, so I remained still, shaking with impatience. “Well, what does it say? Is there anything in there that can help him?” Frantic and overexcited, I literally bounced in place while I waited for her to respond.

  “Calm down,” she said, looking at me like I was ridiculous. “It looks like my great-great-grandmother crossed paths with him after he seduced one of her cousins.”

  “Oh? Well…what happened?”

  Please don’t let it be horrible. Please.

  Martha ran her finger down the page as she continued reading. “There’s not a lot of information here. Mostly, it’s my grandmother’s account of her unsuccessful attempts to retrieve her cousin’s memory. It says here she went calling on her cousin one afternoon and found your boy, scrubbing her memory, the cousin still in an embarrassing state of undress. There was a small skirmish as my great-great-grandmother tried to put a hex on him, but was thwarted. That’s when the faerie revealed himself to her as the Gancanagh. According to my grandmother’s account, he was exceedingly handsome, horribly arrogant and spoke with a viper’s tongue.”

  Yep. Sounds about right.

  I craned my neck trying to read from the book myself. “Are there any other details about him?” There had to be more than just an account of his womanizing. He had to have done something other than blaze a trail of indiscretion through history.

  “No.” She shook her head. “There’s nothing else written. How did you meet him, anyway?”

  With an ache in my chest, I filled her in on the finer details of our tempestuous relationship, from our initial meeting at the bar to present day, leaving nothing out. If there was any hope of her helping me, I needed to afford her full disclosure to the intricate details of our connection.

  I let my head rest against the side of the bed and closed my eyes, grief-stricken at the thought of not being able to help Quinn.

  No doubt sensing my despair, Martha reached out and laid a hand on my arm. “Relax, Ryann. I have an idea.”

  My head shot back up, and I looked at her with a mix of fear and hope in my eyes as I waited for her explanation.

  She closed her book and set it on the floor next to her before turning and sitting cross-legged in front of me. With her elbows on her knees, she leaned forward and spoke. “We’re looking for someone who’s gotten close enough to Quinn to learn the details of his curse, right?”

  I nodded in agreement.

  “Well,” she said. “It seems to me the person who’s come closest to him is you.”

  I felt my forehead crinkling as I shot her a look that clearly said I thought she was crazy. Then a moment later, I froze in place as her words finally registered. Martha was right on target.

  In all his five-hundred-plus years, Quinn had never formed a relationship or gotten close enough to anyone to share the details of his curse with except for me. I alone knew of his all-consuming love of Guinness and fried potatoes. No one else knew of his passion for books and history, or of his fascination with fast cars and small electronic gadgetry. The simple truth of those facts sent goosebumps popping out over my skin.

  Excitement spiked and my body shook. “You’re right. What can I do?”

  “First fill me in on the details of his curse. Who put the whammy on him and why.”

  “What…is…going…on?” Jessica’s voice filled the room, and I looked up to see her staring down at us in complete awe.

  So immersed in my conversation with Martha, I hadn’t heard her enter the room. I had to admit, it must have been a shock to see the two of us huddled together on the floor over a giant book, with show tunes blaring in the background.

  “Ryann? What are you doing in here?” Her sharp tone conveyed her displeasure and I knew she was not only shocked, but a bit peeved as well. Suspicious in the extreme, I knew Jess believed Martha was up to no good.

  I looked up at her with a reassuring smile. “Martha’s helping me.”

  Jessica made a “pssh” sound and scowled. “What could she possibly help you with? How to be a freak?”

  Whoa. Didn’t see that one coming. “Jess.”

  Martha exhaled forcefully, and I turned to see her glaring up at Jessica with anger filled eyes.

  I couldn’t have the two of them fighting. I needed Jessica’s support, and I desperately needed Martha’s help. “Martha is helping me save Quinn. If you want to know what’s going on, you’ll sit down and listen.” I wasn’t normally so short and bossy, but I didn’t have time to deal with petty prejudices. Quinn’s fate was too important.

  Returning Martha’s icy glare, Jessica tossed her purse onto the floor and plopped down across from the two of us. “What is going on, Ryann? What’s wrong with Quinn? Why does he need saving?”

  I wrestled for a moment with how to go about telling my best friend I’d left her in the dark for the past month where my new male friend was concerned. I’d never kept anything from Jessica before, and felt guilty on more than one occasion over the past few weeks about my inability to share my experiences with her. The truth of the matter was Quinn’s secret was not mine to share, and I’d used that reasoning as an excuse to justify my actions. Now, with Quinn’s life hanging in the balance, I had no qualms about spilling his secret to my best friend or our witchy roommate. I needed their help, and I knew they wouldn’t blab.

  “Jess.” I paused for a moment. “What I’m about to tell you may seem beyond all reason, but I assure you it’s true. Quinn is a mythical being. More specifically, he’s a faerie.” I sat back and watched her reaction.

  Jessica sat quiet and motionless for several seconds, a thoughtful look on her face before she turned toward Martha, and let loose with a verbal diatribe the likes of which I’d never seen before.

  “What did you do to her, you whacked-out freak? Whatever you did, make it stop. Fix her. Now.” Jessica leaned forward her face mere inches from Martha’s, and shouted with so much force her face turned three shades of purple.

  I shot forward across the floor, placing my body between the two of them. “Jess, stop it.”

  “Back off, Jessica, or you will be sorry!” Martha threatened. All three of us shouted simultaneously, none of us hearing what the others were saying.

  Enough of this crap.

  “Stop!” My voice drowned them out, and they stopped bickering mid-sentence. Shock and surprise painted their angry faces. Clearly neither thought me capable of making such a loud noise.

  “Ryann, I’m sorry, but I’m scared for you.” The look of concern on Jessica’s face was genuine. “What you are saying is crazy. You can’t possibly believe it.”

  “I know it sounds crazy,” I said, “but it’s true. I wish there was a way I could prove it to you. I—”

  Jessica grabbed my wrist, a look of overwhelming disbelief etched on her pretty face as she shook her head from side to side. I turned to see what she was staring at.

  Martha’s ancient manual hovered a foot above the ground in front of her while she sat still, concentrating on the book, a smug smile on her pale face. The lamp illuminating the small room suddenly went out, with several candles magically lighting themselves, casting a warm luminescence throughout the room.

  Jessica’s jaw nearly hit the floor. “I…uh…I…” Words that normally came so easily to her failed, as she looked at me with total shock. “I can’t believe it.”

  “Tell me about it,” I agreed. “Now do you believe me?”

  “I’m starting to.” She turned to face Martha. “Are you…you know, evil?” Jessica’s eyes roamed about Martha’s medieval-looking room, taking in all of the dark and scary paraphernalia.

  Martha rolled her eyes and cast Jess a sardonic stare. “No. I’m not evil. This,” she circled her hand through the air, “is just for show. People make assumptions about me,” she gave Jes
s an accusatory glance, “and it’s just easier for me to follow along with their assumptions, rather than argue. I act scary to keep people away.”

  “So, you’re not going to put a hex on me?” Jessica still appeared a bit nervous.

  “No,” she answered, giving Jessica a reproving glare. “I, along with the women of my family, use magic to help people, not hurt them. Unfortunately, when people find out I have abilities, they tend to run the opposite direction before I get the chance. Ryann here is the first person who’s ever approached me, seeking out my help.” Smiling, Martha concentrated on the book, lowering it to the floor just in front of her.

  Happy my roommates were no longer going for each other’s jugulars, I was ready to get back to the business at hand. “Can we get back to helping Quinn now?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Go on with whatever you were talking about earlier. I’ll catch on,” Jess said, trying to sound encouraging, but still looking a bit weirded out by everything she’d just seen.

  I moved back to where I’d sat previously and tucked my knees into my chest. “Okay. You need to know who cursed Quinn and why, is that right?”

  Martha nodded. “Yes.”

  Something told me she wasn’t going to like my answer, but there was no going back. The knowledge I possessed was key in saving Quinn, regardless of how bad it might sound.

  I breathed in deeply before answering. “It was Queen Morgana.”

  A quick intake of breath filled my ears as I watched Martha’s eyes grow wide for the briefest of moments. “Why did she curse him?”

  Oh, Lord. Here we go.

  I winced. “Quinn was a bit of a womanizer, as accounted for by your great-grandmother in your book.” Calling him “a bit” of a womanizer had been putting it mildly. The man was to women what Wonder was to bread. “Evidently, he thought himself to be the be-all and end-all of faerie men, and sported an endless string of booty calls, none of whom he cared for. Bragging about his sexual escapades, he got himself into trouble when he told everyone about his plan to seduce the beautiful queen.”

  “Idiot,” Martha scoffed.

  “Fool,” Jessica growled.

  “Hey,” I said, feeling defensive. “This is the man I’m in love with here. I realize his actions were foolish and, well, disgusting, but we are talking about things he did five hundred years ago. He’s grown immens—”

  “Five hundred years!” Jessica shouted over me as I spoke. She waved her hands frantically in front of her as she shook her head. “Wait just a minute. You’re telling me Quinn is five hundred years old?” Her head shot back and her eyes threatened to burst out of her skull and jump across the room.

  I nodded, unsure of what else to say. Quinn was old, really old. I knew it. Our pseudo-relationship gave new meaning to the phrase “robbing the cradle,” but I couldn’t find it in me to care. Quinn was hot. Damn hot. Unravaged by time, he was without a doubt the most beautifully made man I’d ever laid eyes on. And not only that, he consistently blew me away with his gentleness and willingness to always place my needs before his own, even when he caught hell from me for doing so. He was the very air I breathed.

  “Wow, Ryann. Pretty boy looks darn good for being a fossil.”

  “Eh, funny,” I said with a sneer. I had a feeling I’d be catching a mountain of grief about Quinn’s age for quite some time.

  Martha cleared her throat. “Ahem…moving right along. So, the faerie queen cursed Quinn.” She tapped at the shiny silver ring on her lip and sighed. “That’s…well…I’m not going to lie to you. That makes things difficult.”

  Wobbling on the edge of defeat, I placed my face in my hands and groaned. “Of course, it does. Nothing in my life is ever easy.” Why? Why did everything always have to be so damn difficult?

  “No,” I shouted. Running my fingers through my hair, I sat up straight, determined not spiral down into the black funk of depression I teetered precariously on. I refused to be deterred. Quinn deserved a happy ending, and so did I. I’d no longer be “that girl.” The one that had to work so hard for everything, the girl everyone felt sorry for, because she had no family. I was ready to make a change, ready to grab the reins and change the course of my destiny. “You just said difficult. Not impossible. What can we do?”

  Martha sat rifling through the pages of her book as I spoke. “Hold on,” she said. “I remember reading something about the Faerie Realm ages ago. Here.” She pointed to a particularly long entry in the book titled The Silver Bough.

  Unable to sit still, I moved so that I sat on my knees and leaned forward, peering at the book. “What does it say?” Excitement and relief coursed through me as I chewed away at my bottom lip, waiting to hear what the passage said.

  “Read it out loud,” Jess said forcefully. “So we all can hear.”

  “I was going to, Bossy Bessie!” Martha glared at Jess with fire in her eyes. I hoped to God she didn’t possess the ability to burn people alive with her peepers or Jess was toast.

  “Stop it, you two,” I cried. “Please, Martha. What does it say?” I couldn’t take the suspense. I needed to know what information lay upon the ancient pages of Martha’s book.

  “Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” She flashed me an apologetic look and began reading. “It looks like this entry was written by my grandmother. The story’s not a firsthand account, but merely a chronicle of a myth passed down through the years.” She paused for a moment, taking in my intense gaze, before starting up again.

  “It’s written there’s a mystical apple tree that lies deep in the heart of Ireland. A silver bough from that tree is said to open the gateway between our world and the Isle of Apples, the Faerie Realm. Whoever possesses the bough shall gain safe passage between the two worlds until the sun sets, the following day.”

  My heart plummeted. A mystical tree in Ireland? I couldn’t just pick up and run off to another country. That required money. Money I didn’t have. The pay from my job was good, but not that good. “Crap! Is there no hope? I won’t give up,” I cried.

  I couldn’t imagine a life without Quinn. It didn’t matter that we’d only known each other a short while. He’d branded himself onto my very soul, marking me for life. It made no difference that he didn’t share my intense feelings. I’d help him regardless because he was my light in a world which had recently plagued me with fear and darkness. And sure as shit I’d do all I could to keep Quinn from fading away.

  I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “How the hell am I supposed to get a mythical tree branch from Ireland?”

  “That’s easy,” Martha said and smiled. “The internet.”

  Chapter 15

  “WELL,” I SIGHED, plopping down onto my bed, “that was the last one.”

  Jessica sat down next to me and placed an arm around my shoulder in an effort to console me. “I can’t believe you sold all of your bags, Ryann. There must have been at least twelve Coach purses in that tub alone, not to mention the Dooneys and Juicys.” She, more than anyone else, knew how beloved my handbag collection was to me.

  When Martha told me I’d need two thousand dollars to cover the cost of the magical bough, I’d nearly pissed myself.

  Oh, yeah. Let me just go pull that out of the petty cash I have stashed away under my pillow. Not!

  Along with student loans, my job covered my college tuition, as well as rent, gas, food and basic necessities. I had a decent sized savings account, but there certainly wasn’t enough to purchase a mystical relic with. The decision to part with my precious handbag collection had been an easy one. Helping Quinn was my single focus, and I’d do whatever it took to save him. Having taken great care to keep my bags in pristine condition, I knew they’d provide me with the money I needed to buy the branch.

  I shrugged. “Material things can be replaced. People can’t.” I knew that fact all too well, having grown up without parents. I’d give away everything I owned and walk around naked and penniless if it meant I could have a family to call my own. My feelings
for Quinn were just as strong and I’d hurriedly put together a “shop my closet” sale, posting signs around my apartment complex as well as the student commons on campus. It took just under a week to sell my precious collection.

  Jessica gave my shoulder one last squeeze before standing up and peering into the empty tub where my purses once resided. “Well, with the sale of that last bag, you have the money you need to buy the apple thing-a-ma-jig.”

  “Bough,” I said, correcting her.

  She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, bough. Sheesh.”

  I crossed the room and winced as I stood in front of my mirror. I hadn’t been able to look at the damn thing without remembering the creepy words scrawled across it just a short time ago. I ran a brush through my hair and met Jessica’s eyes through her reflection in the mirror. “I have to head out to work in a few and I’m sure Quinn is waiting for me outside. Can you tell Martha to go ahead and order the bough now that we have all the money? Just tell her we’ll pay for it cash on delivery.”

  I picked up the giant wad of bills sitting on my dresser and turned, handing it to her. “And make sure she gets the fastest shipping possible. Samhain is just around the corner.”

  “Samhain, shmanhain. Why don’t you just call it Halloween?”

  I shook the money in front of her. “Don’t lose this.” I flashed her a severe look as she took the handful of bills from me.

  “Oh, come on!” Jess said in protest. “Have a little faith in your best friend.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said and sighed. “I do have faith in you. I’m just on edge. What we’re doing is so important. It’s Quinn’s life.” I crossed the room, grabbing the only purse left to my name, a mid-sized, brown Roxy tote. “I gotta go. I’ll talk to you in the morning.” I gave her a quick hug and hurried out of the room.

  I felt a tad anxious leaving my two roommates together. Jessica remained stubbornly aloof where Martha was concerned. Something had to give and I seriously considered locking the two of them in a room together until they decided to get along.