by Kari Edgren
Henry surveyed every inch of the woods ahead of us. From the tight set of his mouth, he didn’t like what he saw.
I shifted slightly in the saddle. “Is everything all right?” Even speaking softly, my voice seemed to echo amongst the trees.
He turned to me, and I started from the vivid green of his eyes, as though the irises had somehow caught fire.
“Your...your eyes...”
He blinked several times. “What’s wrong with them?”
The color had returned to the usual earthy green, flecked with gold. Dumbstruck, I stared at him in silence, searching for any trace of the previous color.
“Is something the matter?” he asked.
In truth I didn’t know, for either I had suffered a hallucination or Henry had been temporarily altered. Neither option proved comforting, though any further discussion would need to wait until we were alone. “The trees are playing tricks with the light,” I said instead.
Henry nodded, accepting my answer. “Miss O’Bearra’s right about these woods. They have a strange feel to them, though I think there’s more to it than their being ancient.”
“What do you mean?”
He considered before answering. “I don’t know exactly, except a strong sense that there’s more here than meets the eyes.”
Ailish exhaled another breath. “Be thankful for that, milord, for there’s things about not meant for our seeing.”
Henry chuckled darkly. I remained silent, the skin tingling once more over the backs of my hands, as though to confirm that she had indeed spoken the truth.
Cresting the side of the hill, the path dipped downward into a slight vale where it continued on flat ground along a meandering streambed. We followed this, keeping to our own thoughts, when we reached the charred remains of a hollowed-out tree trunk.
“This must be it,” I said.
The answer came a few yards later with the appearance of a narrow trail that branched off from the main path over the streambed. Henry went ahead, guiding the stallion over the moss-covered rocks through the shallow water. At the first tentative step, Ailish again buried her face into his greatcoat. I followed behind, one hand tight on the cantle to keep from pitching forward if the mare lost her footing on the slippery surface. Safely across, I reined alongside Henry.
“We be close now,” Ailish said, turning to look at me. Excitement pinked her usually pale cheeks.
“You seem rather anxious to meet Deri’s stepmother.”
“Her da be known amongst me kind afore she killed him, so I’ve a keen interest to see the widow.”
Henry tensed visibly. “You should have told me we were meeting more of Cailleach’s descendants.”
Ailish didn’t hesitate. “Don’t know what she be for certain, milord, other than a widow.”
Henry looked at me, and for a moment I feared he would try to order me back to town. No doubt seeing the futility of such a demand, he settled instead for an irritated sigh.
“Let’s get this over with.” He urged his horse into the lead position, and we started single file along the trail.
Other than a handful of evergreens, the trees were mostly stripped of their foliage. Wind blew overhead, rattling the skeletal branches and any remaining leaves. On occasion, a gust would dip lower, but for the most part we remained sheltered between the two hills. Mist gathered on the undergrowth and around tree trunks in ethereal forms that tricked the eye and dampened my cheeks. I glanced up at the overcast sky, thankful for any extra daylight as we threaded our way deeper into the woods.
It didn’t take long before I caught the first hint of wood smoke over the scents of leaf mold and damp earth. The smell grew stronger as we curved around the base of one hill, and a thatched-roof cottage soon came into view, nestled in a clearing.
A dog barked at our approach. Running to meet us, the sleek brown beast stayed just ahead of the horses while maintaining a steady stream of noise. With such an effective herald, by the time we reached the front garden, a woman was already waiting on the porch. A sharp whistle silenced the dog’s barking, and it went immediately to her side like a four-legged soldier.
Waves of fierce red hair framed her pale round face, as though fire had taken solid form in the curly strands. A green-and-brown plaid shawl covered her shoulders, crisscrossed over the front of what appeared to be a plain black woolen gown.
The woman remained still as a statue as she watched Henry lower Ailish to the ground. He dropped down next with a soft thud, then helped me from the saddle onto a patch of grass. His hands stayed on my waist while I found my footing. But when I tried to move forward, his grip remained steadfast, keeping me in place.
I glanced up to find him staring over my shoulder into the woods. “What is it?”
He didn’t respond or show the slightest impression that he had even heard me.
“What are you looking at?” I asked, this time a bit louder.
His gaze settled on my face. “Nothing...nothing at all.” Dropping his hands, he turned toward the cottage.
Ailish was the first to approach the woman. “Dia duit,” she said in greeting. God to you.
A bright red brow curved upward as light gray eyes moved over Ailish and me before coming to rest on Henry. “You’re far from home, Englishman.” Though I was relieved she spoke English, I didn’t appreciate her forward tone, nor how brazenly she grazed him from head to toe. “Could be you’ve returned just.”
Her wording struck me as odd, and I gave her a quizzical look. How could a man be both far from home and have just returned at the same time? It didn’t make any sense, which left me to believe that something had gone awry in her translation from Gaelic.
“This is my first time in Ireland,” Henry replied, all well-mannered politeness.
“Is that so?” The corners of her mouth curled up. “And do you like what you be seeing?”
Henry seemed unfazed by her blatant flirtations. “I have only Wexford and these woods to go by, but it’s a beautiful land from what little I’ve seen so far.”
Her smile curved a bit more. “We’ve more than land, you know.” Sultry invitation filled her voice. Frowning, I reached for Henry’s hand, lacing our fingers together.
The woman laughed. “Don’t fuss yourself, lass.” She rested her palm atop the crisscrossed shawl, molding the material over what I now noticed to be a well-rounded belly, heavy with child. “Handsome gentlemen don’t often wander into me yard. You’re not so stingy to begrudge me a wee bit o’ fun, are you?”
My cheeks warmed, and I opened my mouth to respond, when she waved a hand to dismiss the question. “Never mind. I can see that you are. So tell me, what have you come for if not to let me tease with your man?”
Ailish cleared her throat. “We be looking for the widow o’ Master Roddy Byrne.”
The smile tightened to a straight line on the woman’s mouth. “And what do you want with his widow, eh?”
“We’re searching for his girl Deri. Thought the widow might know where—”
A black rage appeared like a sudden storm over the woman’s face. “Hold your tongue!” She fisted a hand on her belly just as a sharp wind swept through the garden, whipping my hood back. All around us, the air crackled with what felt like the beginning of a lightning charge.
I shivered as the small hairs stood at attention across every square inch of my body. What’s happening...
The dog whimpered and inched back toward the cottage, tail between its hind legs. Henry’s arm encircled my waist, and he pulled me protectively to his side. I darted a worried look at him, only to find him staring over my head into the woods again instead of the goings-on in our immediate surroundings.
An angry cry burst from the woman. Her nostrils flared, and she spat on the ground near our feet. “Don’t you be speaking that dev
il’s name in me presence.”
Another blast of wind grabbed at my cloak. I clutched the edges to keep it from blowing open, grateful for the partial shelter offered by Henry’s large body. Without the same protection, Ailish’s cape flapped wildly behind her. High overhead, a thick branch succumbed to the pressure, snapping from the tree and crashing to the ground not ten steps from us. The horses whinnied and tramped their hooves.
Open challenge emanated from the woman’s hostile stare, which had darkened to cold, hard granite.
Ailish stood her ground, resembling an unworldly creature with wisps of hair blowing free around her face. “You’ve a rare gift, sister mine.” She spoke so softly I almost missed it over the wind.
The woman didn’t reply right away, but narrowed her eyes on Ailish. Several long seconds passed before the rage began to calm in her face. “Sister, you say?”
“Oh, for certain.” Ailish drew a long breath through her nose. “You’re a strong one. I can smell Cailleach’s blood from here.”
I heaved an inward sigh at the revelation.
Henry didn’t say a thing, nor did he give any indication of even hearing their exchange. While they spoke of Cailleach and being long-lost sisters, his concentration remained fixed on the surrounding woods. Frustrated by the distraction, I started to dig an elbow into his side to help break the spell. At the last moment, I thought otherwise, that the preoccupation might be useful if it kept him from overreacting, or on the chance he’d actually caught sight of something slinking about. For all I knew, another hound could be on the prowl, though Ailish would have probably smelled it by now.
The small porch creaked as the woman relaxed her stance. The previous rage had cleared from her face. The smile hadn’t returned though, and a spark of suspicion still lit her eyes. “What’s your father’s name?” she asked Ailish. “And don’t try fibbing. I know all Cailleach’s kin south o’ Dublin.”
Ailish bobbed a shallow curtsey. “Miss Ailish O’Bearra, at your service.”
“O’Bearra.” The name rolled off the woman’s tongue. “I knew a man once by that name ages ago near Waterford. Mighty strong gift he had. And a young daughter to bring up on his own. Heard he crossed to the Otherworld some years past.”
“That be me da. He died when I was a wee lass and Master Calhoun took me in.”
The woman nodded. “So you’re the charlatan’s brat? I should have known he be working with Cailleach’s blood for folks to see the dead.”
It was Ailish’s turn to spit on the ground. “Not anymore. We had a parting o’ ways back near Ballyhack.”
The woman crossed her arms over her swollen belly. “And now you’re thinking o’ joining with the devil. Is that why you’ve come sniffing about me cottage?”
Ailish leaned forward onto the balls of her feet. “What would you say if’n we’ve come to kill her?”
Laughter burst from the woman. “That it be the grandest bit o’ news I’ve heard since summer past.” She looked between Ailish and me, her mouth pursed in thought. “But why would you want to kill her, demon that she is.”
The truth spilled from me before there was time to reconsider. “Because she stole my best friend, and I want her back.”
Light gray eyes settled on my face. “Who might you be, me dear, to care so much for a friend?”
I held her gaze firm. “Selah Kilbrid.”
The woman chuckled under her breath. “I thought it be too warm out here, even with a ripe belly.” She patted the top of her stomach. “I’m Deidre Byrne, widow o’ the late Roddy Byrne.”
Since Henry’s hand was still around my waist, I didn’t attempt a curtsey. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Byrne.” It was partly the truth.
“Call me Deidre.” She cut her eyes to Henry. “I assume he’s got the same blood as you do, Selah.”
I shook my head. “He’s not like us.”
Her expression grew skeptical. “So you say.” She turned to Ailish. “Well, if you’re serious about killing Deri, you best come inside so we can talk. The weight o’ this babe be wearing me back thin.”
Ailish moved toward the door. Wanting to follow her, I nudged Henry in the ribs to get his attention. He looked down as though surprised to see me.
“We’re going inside with Mrs. Byrne.”
He dropped his arm from my waist. “You go ahead.” His gaze drifted back to the woods. “I’ll just wait out here with the horses.”
My mouth popped open. Was he really going to just let me walk into a closed room with two of Cailleach’s descendants? Hadn’t he heard anything in the past few minutes? Not that I minded the show of confidence, except that his behavior had gone well past bizarre.
I followed his line of sight the best I could. “What are you looking at?”
“Nothing,” he said, distracted.
“Really?” Sarcasm clung to my voice. “So you’ve been staring at nothing this whole time?”
He didn’t even try to answer.
Deidre beckoned toward the cottage. “Leave him to it, Selah. The sun’s almost gone, and you’ll not want to be in the woods once night comes.”
I looked between the two of them. “But...” I sputtered, unsure how to even finish the sentence.
“Don’t fret, lass.” Her lips curled to a knowing smile. “Your man be plenty safe. I pledge me word upon it.”
In truth, I was more concerned with his sanity than his safety at the moment. “Very well.” With one last glance at Henry, I followed Deidre into the cottage.
Chapter Seventeen
A Test of Blood
I stepped over the threshold into Deidre’s cottage. Squinting at the dimness, I allowed my eyes to adjust before proceeding farther. Once inside though, my skin turned to ice, and no wonder being in such a small space with two of Cailleach’s descendants.
“This is madness,” I grumbled, hugging myself for additional warmth.
“You’re right for certain.” Deidre sank into a rocker by the lone window and waved a hand at the rough-cut chairs that flanked a wooden table. “Pull a seat near the hearth so you don’t freeze yourself while we talk.”
I dragged one of the chairs across the floor and placed its hind legs toward the fire. Turning to sit, I stopped partway to peer through the window for any sign of Henry.
Deidre laughed. “Believe me, lass, there’s naught out there that can hurt your man.”
My view was limited to a few trees and the horses’ heads. “How can you be so sure?”
“He’s a rare breed, that one, with a wildness I’ve not felt in a long time.”
She was right on both accounts, though I had no idea how she had arrived at the truth so quickly. Grudgingly, I sat down and glanced around the dismal room.
Smoke had dulled the once white walls to a dingy cream. Everything else offered varying shades of brown, from the rafters to the floorboards and all the items in between. A large trunk and a three-legged footstool rounded out the scant furnishings of the rocker, chairs and table. Overhead, at least half a dozen bundles of dead leaves and flowers hung from the rafters. Steam rose up from a large iron pot set near the fire, smelling of thyme, meat and onions.
Rather than using the other chair, Ailish had settled on the footstool near the wall opposite the hearth. She stayed very still, legs tucked up to her chest and eyes turned toward the sole interior door that I assumed led to a bedroom. By the tilt of her head, she seemed to be listening to something.
I angled an ear in the same direction, but heard nothing above the fire crackling and the gentle scrape of rocker treads over the floor.
“So, you’re looking for young Deri, are you?” Deidre asked. “What makes you think the devil’s come to Wexford?”
Ailish gave no indication of hearing the woman. Perplexed by her silence, I watched as she
lifted her nose and sniffed the air. I took a breath as well, but caught nothing over the scent of what simmered in the pot.
I turned back to Deidre. “I followed her here from London five days ago.”
“Crossed the sea, did she? I figured her for Dublin, but I guess London be good a place as any for the likes o’ her.” Deidre paused rocking long enough to pull something from a basket at her feet. With a weary sigh, she settled back into the chair, a small square of knitted green wool suspended between two long needles over her belly. “Some nerve, she has, coming back, seeing there’s a hangman’s noose waiting.” Her hands began to move in a rhythmic pattern, working more yarn into the square. “The hell spawn murdered me Roddy, you know, afore she ran away. Soldiers searched the woods for her, but she weren’t to be found. That one’s good at hiding, and even better at killing.”
Nora’s face flashed in my head. I pushed the image away, though there was little to do for the knot that clenched in my stomach. “Do you know where we might find her?”
“She’s not returned to me cottage, if that’s what you’re hoping. I’ve not seen hide nor hair o’ that devil for four months past. Not since Lughnasa, when me Roddy took her into the village to celebrate the harvest and to see who was getting handfasted.”
My mind pulled apart the Gaelic word. Lughnasa... Lugh’s Day... August first.
“We didn’t expect to find her in your cottage.” I threw a furtive look at Ailish, wondering why she chose this time to be so quiet when she’d been a veritable chatterbox outside. The look went unnoticed with her gaze now pinned to the floor. Her head remained tilted toward the bedroom door. Concentration lines marred her face.
I stared hard at her downcast eyes, willing her to look up. What are you doing? She took no notice of me, and my silent question went unanswered.
Deidre clucked her tongue. “Why did you come to me home then?”
Frowning, I returned my attention to the woman. “We thought you would know some places in the area where Deri might try to hide.”
