Night of the Dark Horse (An Allegra Fairweather Mystery)

by Janni Nell

  He stood by the car, unmoving. When he spoke, his voice was annoyingly calm. “Stop it, Allegra. This isn’t about you.”

  “The hell it isn’t. I lost you, Dad. For years I didn’t know whether you were dead or alive. When Casper told me you were alive—that was almost worse than you being dead. It meant you didn’t care enough to come back.”

  “I did care and I did come back.”

  “Yeah, to take one quick look at us and decide we’d all be better off without you. What right did you have to decide my life?”

  “I’ve explained why I didn’t make contact.”

  My head understood, even if I didn’t agree with his decision, but my heart—torn to shreds. I kicked at the ground, sending up a shower of dirt. Too bad it didn’t go in Dad’s eyes. His hands fell to his sides, defeated. “I wish I knew how to make it up to you.” He wasn’t crying. His emotion was too big for tears.

  I could feel his grief and, oh bugger, it matched my own. Dad might have made the decision to walk away from his family, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t suffered. What must it have been like knowing where we were and forcing himself to stay away, always believing he was doing the best thing for us. One dumb decision had led to a world of hurt. I felt sorry for him—sorry for all of us. But I wasn’t ready to forgive him.

  We got back in the car. As we drove south again, Dad asked, “Where is Lorcan?”

  “Living in the woods near a village called Dingaleen. He’s having a hard time right now. He needs a parent who will stay.”

  “You’ve met him? Spoken to him?”

  “Sort of.” Dad didn’t speak, he just waited for me to go on. “Turns out, Lorcan inherited a bit of Fae magic from Sharina. He’s a pooka. I’ve seen him in the incarnations of an eagle and a horse. As the eagle, he attacks anyone who goes near Sharina’s grave. As a horse, he calls on the villagers of Dingaleen to ride. It’s not random. He mostly targets people who have attacked his eagle incarnation, while the eagle is scavenging for food. He hasn’t killed anyone yet, but Ronan, the guy who hired me, suffered an injury that ended his career. Or would have if I hadn’t had those leprechaun’s wishes.”

  “You charmed wishes from a leprechaun?”

  “Charm had nothing to do with it. And you can lose the excitement—the wishes have all been used.”

  But his excitement didn’t diminish. “Charming wishes from a leprechaun...” He shook his head and actually chuckled. “I’m proud of you, Allegra.”

  I found I was unable to speak, so I just parked the car near the triple fork in the road. Before we entered the wood, I handed him my phone, which displayed one of my favorite photos of my niece.

  “What a lovely child,” he said. “Is she—?”

  “Your granddaughter? Yeah, Lily’s kid. Her name is Allegra.”

  “I have a grandchild,” he murmured. “You have more pictures?”

  “Later, Dad.” I retrieved my phone. “This doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you or anything.” I stomped into the woods, expecting Dad to follow. For once he didn’t disappoint me.

  We moved past the Maguires’ graves and into the thicker foliage that sheltered Sharina’s grave. I thought Lorcan would appear immediately, armed with those lethal claws and beak. Nothing but a squirrel moved in the trees above. Everything was peaceful.

  “Where is he?” asked Dad. “You said he’d be here.”

  “Usually he is.”

  Dad caught sight of Sharina’s headstone and forgot all about Lorcan. He moved forward as though enchanted. He ran his fingers over the beautifully carved birds and leaves and flowers. He touched the Fae script.

  “I can’t read it,” he murmured.

  “I says, Sharina Levara beloved mother of a devoted son.”

  He dropped to his knees. The damp ground must’ve been cold, but he didn’t seem to notice. He leaned against the headstone. Tears trickled down his cheeks speckling his beard with diamonds.

  I moved away to give him privacy. While I waited, I swept my eyes over the branches far above. Where was the eagle? Maybe he was planning to mix it up a bit and appear as the horse. Who knew which incarnation the pooka would choose to confront his father.

  Dad picked up the posy of now-brown and mildewed flowers.

  He called out to me. “Did Lorcan leave these?”

  “No. A woman from Dingaleen.”

  “She knew Sharina?”

  “Siobhan wanted to pretty up the grave. Some sort of artistic thing, I guess.” All at once, I remembered something. “Oh crap, the art prize.” My watch had started to work as soon as I’d left Fairyland. I checked the date and time. The prize giving was due to commence in an hour. “I promised Liam I’d be there. Come on, Dad, I’ll explain on the way.”

  * * *

  Instead of heading straight to the community hall, I swung by Liam’s parents’ house. Yep, just as I expected, the lights were on. Both parents and the golden-haired twins were at home.

  “Do you know where Liam is?” I demanded.

  “He’s run off again,” said Mrs. O’Reilly.

  “No,” I corrected her, “he’s at the hall. They’re announcing the art prizes. He could use a little support.”

  “Art prizes?” parroted Mrs. O’Reilly. “Liam hasn’t—he never told us he’d entered.”

  “Can you blame him? You’re not exactly the poster parents for artistic kids.”

  “If Liam had wanted us there, he’d have told us,” she said. “Siobhan must’ve talked him into it. He’s probably embarrassed.”

  Yeah, but only by his parents. Anyway this was getting us nowhere and time was moving on. I turned to Dad.

  “I gotta go. I promised Liam I’d be there. Here’s where you get to make amends for your ten-year absence. Convince these people that they need to attend the prize-giving. Tell them why they can’t let their kid down.”

  As Dad started talking, I ran back to the car and floored it to the hall. Liam was sitting beside Siobhan. They had saved me a seat and Liam beamed as I sat down.

  “You came.”

  “Sure, wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”

  “Ssh,” said Siobhan, “they’re starting.”

  I glanced away from the stage, checking the door for a late appearance by Mr. and Mrs. O’Reilly. Looked like Dad hadn’t convinced them to come.

  There were several sections with prizes—Landscape, Portrait, Best Overall and Artists of the Future. The prizes were announced in that order and the winners in the first three sections were all adults making me doubt that Liam had a chance of winning even if his section was Artists of the Future.

  When the clapping had died down and the acceptance speeches had bored everyone senseless, the MC moved on to announce the winners in Liam’s section. I glanced at the door hoping to see the O’Reillys. Nope, no late arrivals.

  The Highly Commendeds were announced first with both being won by high school seniors. Siobhan had a tight hold on Liam’s hand, more nervous than he was. I wanted to tell her to chill. What were the chances of this kid winning anything in his first contest? I even started thinking it was better if his parents didn’t show up.

  The MC stepped up to the mic. “The second prize of fifty pounds and private lessons with renowned local artist, Moonbeam Lyons, goes to Liam O’Reilly.”

  He didn’t move. Siobhan gave him a little prod. “You have to go up and accept. You got a prize.” He looked so tiny and lost as he made his way up the aisle to the stage. Then he stepped up to the mic and whispered, “Thank you.”

  Loud cheering erupted from the back of the room. Mr. and Mrs. O’Reilly and even the golden twins were making quite a racket. Dad stood beside them. I gave him the thumbs up.

  On the stage, Liam caught sight of his parents. Grinning from ear to ear, he yelled, “Thank you,” and punched the air

  After the prize giving, Dad and I went to the Black Shamrock. I didn’t know what he intended, but I planned to get totally wasted. And not in a good way. I mean what did I h
ave to celebrate? Sure, Dad and I were reunited, but there were plenty of unresolved issues in our relationship. Then there was the case and the tiny fact that although I knew a lot more about Sharina, I still hadn’t stopped the pooka. And let’s not mention the whole Casper-disappearing-in-the-River-of-Dreams thing. I totally could not deal with that. Getting wasted was looking better every minute.

  My first drink was going down without touching the sides, when Dad said, “How did I do?” He was referring to the minor miracle of getting the O’Reillys to the prize giving.

  “Okay, I guess.”

  “Well,” he said, ignoring my lack of enthusiasm and going for lighthearted, “I am a wizard now.”

  Curiosity forced me to ask, “Have you always been a wizard? Is that why you went away on so many trips when I was a kid?”

  “No, I began my wizard’s training seven years ago.”

  “What did you do before that? And don’t give me any of that traveling salesman crap.”

  “Okay,” he said. “I was a paranormal investigator.”

  I spat my drink across the table. Dad thumped my back. When I stopped choking, I asked, “Why did you give it up?”

  He studied his blunt fingernails. The sturdy hands reminded me of childhood, and safety. My heart softened, but I fought the feeling. I was still pissed off at him. So not ready to let him off the hook.

  “Being a PI cost me too much.”

  “So why become a wizard? Why not something more, well, normal?”

  He answered with another question. “Why did you become a PI?”

  “I solved some mysteries in school and it just kind of snowballed. The career chose me, I guess.”

  “That’s how it is with me. I’m attracted to the unusual.”

  “Do you like being a wizard?”

  “Very much.”

  “And yet you’re missing the conference.”

  “To be with my daughter. There’s no place I’d rather be.”

  Could he get any more corny? Since I wasn’t ready for a schmaltzy happy ending, I asked, “Why did you run from me the first time I saw you at the castle?”

  He spread his hands and gave a small shrug. “I wish I knew. With hindsight it’s one of the most stupid things I’ve ever done, but seeing you there was such a surprise. The last thing I expected. I didn’t know whether you’d welcome my approach or hate me for being absent so long. I’m ashamed to say I panicked and made the snap decision to run. I was wrong.”

  He wasn’t asking forgiveness or even for my understanding, he was telling it like it was and manning up to his mistake. I respected that, but I stopped short of reaching across the table and squeezing his hand. I noticed it was deeply tanned as though he spent a lot of time working magic in the desert. I was planning to ask him about that when I noticed the old Chinese guy sitting at a booth in the corner of the pub. He had a glass of clear liquid in front of him. His eyes were half closed, but I sensed he knew exactly what was happening in every corner of the room.

  A voice came from across the pub. “Oi, Niamh, drinks now.”

  “In a minute, Colum,” Niamh had two other customers waiting, both elderly and unlikely to make a fuss if Colum butted in.

  “Niamh, darlin’, we’re dyin’ of thirst here.”

  “I’m going as fast as I can.” Her hand slipped and she knocked over a drink.

  “You’re clumsy as shite,” Colum laughed, “but I still love ya darlin’.”

  I looked around for Aedan, and was relieved when I couldn’t see him. After only one lesson from Casper, he wasn’t nearly ready to fight Colum.

  But I was. My jaw tightened. My fist clenched.

  Dad said, “Don’t. He’s not worth it.”

  “She is.”

  “Yes,” said Dad, “but if you solve this now—next week or the week after that guy will harass her again and you won’t be here to step in. The people of Dingaleen have to sort this out themselves. Your job is to stop the pooka.”

  “Actually, Dad, you have to stop the pooka.”

  “You’re Lorcan’s half-sister. Will you welcome him into our family?”

  The reality of the situation hit me like a yeti’s fist. I was going to get a brother. Would my relationship with him be easier than the first twenty-five years with my sister? It had taken Lily and me that long to bond over our shared loved of her daughter, Little Allegra. I hoped it wouldn’t take as long for me to bond with Lorcan.

  “I’ll welcome him with open arms,” I said, although my fingers were crossed, “but Mom will have a fit. And speaking of Mom, you two really need to get a divorce. Like yesterday.”

  “You’re okay with that?”

  “I have to be. This whole messy situation of Mom being a bigamist has to end.”

  “I don’t think the law will be too harsh on her, since I was declared dead. Sondra made an honest mistake.”

  “At least you guys won’t have to pay legal fees. We have a lawyer in the family now. Lily married Steven’s son. SJ will do right by Sondra. They get along really well.”

  “Well, bugger me,” murmured Dad. “Sondra must be tickled pink.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  “Sondra always belonged in a family of politicians and lawyers. She never got the whole paranormal investigation thing.”

  And Dad had got it too well, becoming involved with a fairy and all. Still, Sharina was gone now. “Dad, is there someone special in your life?”

  “Not since Sharina.”

  “I’m sorry you couldn’t have had a happy ending with her,” I said, but I was really thinking of Casper. Dad and I had more things in common than his former profession of paranormal investigator, which, by the way, I really wanted to ask him about. Before I could frame a question we were interrupted by Colum loudly asking Niamh, “Where’s your boyfriend tonight? Has Unlucky Aedan got lucky yet?”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” said Niamh wearily.

  “Can’t say I blame ya. He’s a sad apology for a man.”

  Niamh looked around as though hoping another customer would claim her attention. No such luck.

  “Ya ready for a real man yet?”

  “Colum, I’m workin’.”

  “Sure, I know that darlin’, but I’ll be here ’til closin’ time. I’ll wait for ya. ’Cause I know ya want a bit o’ this.” He grabbed his crotch.

  “That’s it,” I said springing to my feet so fast the table wobbled. “I’ve gotta shut that guy up.”

  I was moving toward him intent on inflicting grievous bodily harm, when the pub door banged open. Aedan entered like a sheriff in a Wild West town.

  “Here he is,” said Colum. “The hero of Dingaleen and he has the wounds to prove it.”

  It was true. Aedan did bear the cuts and bruises from past encounters with Colum, but there was something different about him. He walked a little taller. The nervous moments had gone and he seemed grounded in a way he hadn’t before. The effect of that one lesson from Casper? Unlikely.

  His tone was measured as he spoke to Colum. “Let’s take this outside.”

  “You sure about that, little man?”

  They stared each other down, tension palpable. Neither of them moved, until Aedan turned abruptly and headed for the door.

  “Leaving already?” taunted Colum.

  Aedan glanced over his shoulder. “Not leaving. Taking this outside. While Niamh’s in charge, there’ll not be a brawl in this pub. You comin’, Colum?”

  The bigger man didn’t hesitate. With a tilt of his head he beckoned his hangers-on to follow. Three against one. Typical. I hurried after them to ensure the fight was a fair one. Dad followed. Actually, everyone in the pub followed, including Niamh.

  A circle formed around Aedan and Colum. Light from the pub windows spilled onto the ground, creating a boxing ring. Colum danced around, mouthing off. Aedan stood patiently waiting for his opponent to attack.

  “Come on.” Colum swaggered. “What ya waitin’ for? Sure, I’ll even let ya t
hrow the first punch.”

  Aedan waited. Statue still. His stillness rattled Colum. “Come on, dammit.” In the end it was Colum who threw the first punch.

  Aedan blocked it and made a swift movement, connecting with Colum’s arm. It threw the bigger man off balance and he went down on one knee. His mates rushed in, coming at Aedan from different directions. I caught hold of Eamon and held him back. “Don’t even think about it. This will be a fair fight.”

  Davin was also being held back by the old Chinese guy, who had a grip of steel if the expression on Davin’s face was any indication.

  Aedan didn’t fight dirty. He waited for Colum to get up. The bigger man pretended to stagger then suddenly launched himself at Aedan. This time Aedan didn’t bother to block. He ducked out of Colum’s reach, spun around and next thing you knew Colum was on the ground out cold. I glanced at the old Chinese guy, who seemed satisfied with the result. I guessed he’d been giving Aedan lessons. I’d only seen those moves once before. They belonged to an ancient martial art, which was so secret no one knew its real name. I had only ever heard it referred to in whispers as The Art.

  I sidled up to Aedan. “Who’s your friend?”

  Aedan whispered, “He’s The Master.”

  “The actual Master? The one who invented The Art? But he died over a thousand years ago.” Well, well, well. It looked as though Aedan had his own guardian angel. I couldn’t help thinking that Lucky Aedan had a very nice ring to it. And if the way Niamh was looking at him was any indication, Aedan was going to get lucky real quick.

  As for me, maybe I’d get lucky too—not in that way—but maybe Aedan’s angel knew what had happened to Casper.

  I searched for The Master, but he was no longer among the crowd outside the pub. I hurried inside, but he wasn’t there either. When I came out again, I saw him heading toward the lane where Dierdre lived. No prizes for guessing he was looking for a quiet place to spread his wings and return to Cloud 9. I sprinted after him.

  “Hey! Stop! I want to talk to you.” At first he pretended not to hear, but I ran fast, overtook him and blocked his way. “I know you’re an angel. I won’t tell anyone, I swear. I just want to know where my own angel is. He’s disappeared and—well, nothing is right when Casper’s not around.”