by Chevon Gael
Eloquent words, yet true enough. Seamus tried to look grim, but there was no dissuading Davy. “Fine then. Keep Kat behind us."
Which was going to be difficult by the looks of Miss Kathleen Callaghan, with her wide eyes and open mouth, who practically crawled over Davy to get near Seamus. “Wow!” came the excited whisper. “Are you really Seamus? Wet dream Seamus? The Seamus in the rock Seamus. You are like, so hot. I mean, you know, for somebody who's not real. No, I mean ... Not that you're not real. You're just..."
Davy looked over his shoulder at Kat, clearly confused. He tucked a lock of black hair behind his ear.
"Oh, no, Davy. Not that you're not hot. I mean I've been watching your tongue on that whistle and you have a lot of potential..."
Seamus winked at Kat. “He's a dick the size of a flag pole."
That shut her up. Her lips stopped moving and her mouth slid into a wide smile. Her eyes glazed over. She gave a tiny sigh and clearly ignored Seamus in favor of anything Davy had to say. And so far he'd said very little. Until now.
"I've not the first focking idea what you're getting at, love. But when this is all over I'll give you a snog and a shag to write home about."
Seamus nudged Davy and nodded upward. “I'll try to explain Americans to you ... later."
Together the trio forged ahead up the stairs.
* * * *
Rhian had a terrible headache. Her captors were sniping at each other. Back and forth. Jibe after antagonism after irritation. Like two lions fighting over a kill while the carcass grew cold.
"I ain’ been laid in twenty-five years. I go first."
"Then you can wait ten more minutes."
"Hah! Ten minutes. Is that all you got in you, boy?"
"Stop calling me ‘boy,’ old man."
"Respect your elders."
"I've seen that withered old prick. You couldn't flog a fly."
"Age before beauty. And I was focking before the Druids were plugging knots in trees."
Rhian pulled at her ropes until her shoulders throbbed in pain. Then she strained against the bars until she was numb. Beads of sweat rolled down her cheeks and ran into her eyes. She wiped her face across her arm and noticed blood. Her wrists were raw. It was going to take a gallon of greasepaint to hide the abrasions. Of course she was assuming she'd get away at all.
She shook her head to clear her mind. She had to get away. She blinked a few times to rid the stinging from her eyes. That's when she saw movement near the edge of the stairwell. It was Seamus. Hope and fear flared in her breast. She tried not to let her face betray her arguing captors. She took a deep breath. God! She could smell him. Then she stilled. If she could smell him...
Suddenly there was silence. She stared at the wall, trying think of a way to help him. But all she could hear was the pounding of her heart. She stared at the floor. Her peripheral vision picked up her discarded purse. It was upside down, the contents strewn across the floor. Her eyes came to rest on one of her boots. She glanced across the floor. Just one boot. It seemed an odd item to catch her attention. But no more than the rapid pulse and hammering heart—make that more than one. And the air had become suddenly thick with scents.
Feral scents. Adrenaline. Kat's perfume. Davy's sweat. Seamus's breath and the way it tasted on her lips. Suddenly her shoulder blades tingled in a way that made her want to reach around and scratch. The hard, cold stone floor beneath her feet suddenly disappeared and she found herself looking out the window of the turret room. But that was impossible. The window was ten feet off the floor!
She opened her eyes to the moon.
"My mother,” she whispered. “Look at me. I'm dancing on the air.” And suddenly she saw herself back in another time, another place. A tinkling laugh carried on the wind. Filmy wings curling open with the morning sun. The dew from her own body sparkling on the grass. Her lover slipping magic slippers on her feet. Angels clapping from above.
"Oh, my mother forgive me for hurting you. But my heart calls."
"And you must listen to your heart, my daughter. You are Darianna, Princess of the Fae. You must follow your destiny, even if that destiny takes you far from home to another place, another time."
"But I have been selfish and thought only of my own heart. And those I love have suffered for it."
"It is my own selfishness that has caused the suffering, my child. It was wrong of me to try to keep you with me. I only want your happiness. And if your heart has survived the ages and waited for your one love, then you must go to he who loves you. I release you both. Blessings, my children."
The moon's radiance brightened. Suddenly the room was alight with an ethereal glow. For an instant the beams were blinding. Rhian's captors threw their hands across their eyes and crowed in pain. It was enough.
Her rescuers rushed up from their hiding place at the top of the staircase. Davy and Seamus charged at their targets and tackled Fergus and Paddy. Kat took up the rear and was clutching one of Rhian's boots, swinging at anything that moved. She worked her way over to Rhian.
"Rhian ... Rhian! Hey, exorcist girl! Can you hear me? Are you all right?"
Rhian nodded weakly.
"Damn! I don't have anything to cut these ropes."
At the word cut Rhian returned to the world. “Seamus, watch out! Paddy has a knife,” she shouted. Almost immediately, a silver dagger skidded across the floor. Kat picked up the dagger and hacked away at Rhian's bonds.
"Davy, get them out of here!"
Seamus and Fergus were circling each other. Paddy lay prostrate on the floor, but was still moving. Davy rushed over to the women.
"Ladies, if ye please. We should hurry."
"No!” cried Rhian. “I'm not leaving without Seamus."
Davy was half-bowing, and half-pulling at Rhian. “Princess, please."
Rhian leveled her gaze at Davy. “Davy Butler, if you accept who I am, then you know I can't leave."
Kat hugged Rhian protectively against her. “That's an executive order, sweetie."
"Those are for presidents, Kat."
"Oh. Right. Then they're ... commands. She commands you to bugger off. But I'll take up your case in person. Later."
"Kat. Davy."
They looked to her in unison.
"Paddy's on his feet."
Kat grabbed Davy and thrust him toward Rhian. “Guard her. This one's mine.” And with that, she marched up behind Paddy and still clutching Rhian's boot, smacked him across the back of the head. The little man crumpled to the floor. “That's for having a small dick!"
"Seamus!” Rhian broke free of Davy's grasp.
He was on the floor guarding his right side. He tried to get to his knees. A grimace of pain rippled across his face. “Little focker had a shiv. Oh, I'm not real hurt. Just an annoyance. Where'd the little bastard get off to?"
Rhian crouched beside Seamus. She quickly scanned the room. “He's gone! Oh, my love, are you sure you're all right? Should we get you to a doctor—or something?"
He lay sprawled on his stomach near the top of the stone staircase. A small pool of blood grew near the underside of his cheek. Rhian tore off a strip from her scarf and used it to wipe his face. She was relieved when he began to sit up. He shook his head a couple of times. Rhian stayed him.
"Wait until you feel better. Rest here for a moment. Keep this pressed against your temple. It doesn't look deep. I've got some small bandages in my bag. If there's one thing dancers are never without, it's bandages."
She passed Kat, who had tied up Paddy with her shoe laces. Kat handed Rhian the boots. “Nice to know these are good for something."
Rhian shoved them back into Kat's hands. “Keep these in case he wakes up before the police get here. You did call the police."
"Uh, I had to use your cell phone, Rhian. Mine's dead."
"Thanks. My roaming charges are going to bankrupt me."
"Hey, it's better than being dead. How's lover boy?"
"He says it's a flesh wound."
&
nbsp; "Sure. That's what the knight said when he got his arms and legs hacked off."
"Davy! Get over here and take Kathleen home."
"Rhian, are you sure? Maybe we should stay.” But she didn't argue when Davy led her toward the stairs. Rhian grinned and shook her head as she heard Kat muttering. “My best friend is a fairy princess. Her guy-du-jour is a clerk's hand something-or-another. And Davy-the-hottie-whistler, you're ... I don't get you. At least not yet. But I will. And you're taking Kathleen home. Isn't that a song or something? Did you slip something into my drink..."
She owed Kat an explanation. Someday. When this was all over and she understood it herself. Right now it was enough that Seamus had found her and he was alive. She was alive. More alive than she'd ever been, or ever hoped to be. Set free by her heart and a love that outlasted any curse. She still had a hard time believing that she was a vessel for a lost soul, let alone the soul of a fairy princess. Yes, there were things that defied logic and were past explanation. At the same time, it was hard to put herself in the same sentence with Area 51, Kennedy, and the Loch Ness Monster. The only thing she was really sure of was that right now, the man she loved was lying on the floor and bleeding.
Rhian scoured the floor for the contents of her handbag until she located the bandages. She was hurrying back to Seamus, her attention on his injury, her mind full of confusion. The post adrenaline crash suddenly exhausted her. She tried to help Seamus to his feet. It was only at the last second that she saw a movement out of the corner of her eye.
"Rhian, look out!"
Seamus tried to shield her as something dark flew at them from out of the high rafters of the stone room. At first she thought it was a bat. Then she saw a face. Fergus! He'd been hiding on the ceiling. Seamus dove down, trying to take Rhian with him. She was sure they were clear of the leprechaun's grasp when she heard a sudden clatter. Something had fallen to the floor. A coin! At the last second, Fergus veered down to grab his lost booty. Rhian recognized the coin instantly. Seamus's magic shilling. She dodged out from under Seamus's body and threw herself on the coin. After eons of abuse in the wrong pocket, she wasn't going to let Fergus get it again. But her uncovered head presented a perfect target.
She screamed at the sudden, painful yank on her skull. Someone or something had grabbed her hair. She felt herself being dragged from Seamus's side. The impact threw her forward past the first stair. She desperately scrambled to grab the safety banister—and missed. She heard screaming as she pitched forward into darkness. Then she heard nothing.
[Back to Table of Contents]
CHAPTER 10
Pain! Searing. Throbbing. Crushing.
Rhian opened her eyes. The ancient log ceiling above her swirled and threatened her stomach. She was too weak to move, let alone wretch.
"She's awake."
It was a woman's voice. Old and deep. Rhian licked her dry lips and tried to turn her head toward the voice. “Granny...” she whispered.
A large sigh answered her. “If only. But them what's enchanted can never leave this place or their magic will cease to be."
"Magic. Seamus. Where's—"
"Right here, love.” A strong, warm hand caressed her cheek. She smiled. She tried to take a deep breath, but it was too painful. “I smell a cluricaun ... and something ... else."
"Well, that's it. She's on to us."
"Hush your mouth, Davy. She's always been on to us. She just don't remember, that's all. Ah, but the darling child, she'll be right as rain soon enough. Let's leave her alone now. Seamus, try to get some broth down her throat. It's special."
"I understand, Mary."
She slept. And dreamt. A dream of rose petals and flowing blond hair. Of a black head gently nuzzling the soft, pale patch between her thighs. Of warm fingers caressing her naked buttocks. A hot tongue snaked out through sensual lips and probed her outer core. An inquisitive nose parted her swollen flesh. She sighed at the pleasurable rush of sensations he created. A low, trembling murmur escaped from his throat.
"What sweet nectar flows from your stream, little fae. How long have I waited to drink. ‘Tis a thirst only you can quench."
She wrapped her hands around his head and ran her fingers through his hair. “Heal me, my love. Kiss deeply and make me whole again."
"I will ... I promise..."
* * * *
"What do you mean, heal her. What is she doing lying in that bed? She needs to be in a hospital,” demanded Kat as she pushed aside the cup of tea Mrs. Mac placed in front of her. “And what are all these people doing here?"
"In good time, Kat."
She jerked her head toward Davy. “Davy, what the hell is going on? Can't you see she needs medical attention. Christ! You carried her from the castle. Look at her legs. Her ankles are swollen. I know angulated fractures when I see them. And I know damned well she has a couple of broken ribs. Maybe her back, too. What if there's real trouble and she can't walk again. She needs X-rays. She needs an ambulance. She needs—"
"She need only believe, child."
"Mrs. Mac! Please, do something. She could be hemorrhaging inside."
But instead of answering Kat, she looked up as Seamus came into the kitchen.
"Well?"
Seamus came over to stand behind Kat. He put his hands on her shoulders. “She's going to be just fine in a few minutes. Mary, is everyone here?"
Kat jerked her head up. “Everyone? What everyone? This isn't a walk."
"It isn't a wake either. Tell them to come into the kitchen, Mary."
Kat stared in amazement as several villagers invaded Mrs. Mac's kitchen and formed a circle around the table. Davy slipped in beside Kat.
"Did she drink some of the broth, Seamus?"
"You mean that putrid concoction you had brewing on the stove? Yech!"
Davy squeezed her hand. “Don't worry. Just close your eyes and be silent for a few minutes."
The villagers joined hands, including Kat. Once the circle had formed. Kat felt a strange sensation flow through her. It got stronger and stronger, like lava flowing toward the opening of a volcano. Then a sudden snap of electricity, a flare of light. Then a flash freeze. Weakness and fatigue spread through her, yet she still held firm to the hand on each side of her. Only now instead of feeling warm flesh, she felt a cool roughness clinging to her fingers. She dared open one eye just a tiny slit. Then both wide until she thought her eyes would pop. Nothing came from her mouth as she looked around the table. If it were not for the hands still gripping her on either side, she would have hit the floor when she fainted.
* * * *
"Wake up, my love."
Rhian yawned and sighed deeply. She hated waking up before the alarm. Who was bothering her at this time of the morning? Then her mind cleared. She waited for the pain to come. Nothing. The doctors must have given her some morphine. Except the sounds she normally heard after surgery were not evident. She blinked a couple of times. She was still in the bed at Mrs. McCarthy's B & B. Which meant she was still in Blarney. Had she been dreaming—again?
The door opened. Seamus sauntered in—alone. He casually took a seat on the side of the bed, which groaned in protest to his weight.
"I've got news for you, lover. Your charms aren't getting lucky today,” she said.
He reached into his trouser pocket and produced a four-leaf clover. “This is all the luck you'll ever need."
Rhian tentatively moved her body. Satisfied she was able to accomplish this without pain, she sat up. “I don't feel any pain. Is that because I'm ... paralyzed?"
Laughter erupted beside her.
"What's so goddamned funny? I took a header down a few dozen stone stairs. I should be in a million pieces."
"Oh, you flew all right. You just didn't get the landing down. Here, I have a present for you."
She couldn't have been more surprised when Seamus reached down beside the bed and set a brand new pair of hard shoes in her lap. Again, they were beautiful. Lured by the scent of new lea
ther, she picked them up. The taps gleamed like polished silver.
"Go ahead. Try them on."
This time she laughed. “Yeah. Okay. I know this whole thing wasn't a dream. I've got burn marks on my wrist to prove—wait a minute. What happened to the rope burns? The goose-egg on my head...” She gently prodded her scalp. “It's ... gone. What is it? Ice packs, cortisone? Am I shot up with pain killers? I can't move my feet. I can't ... Jesus, Mary, and Joseph ... I can move my feet. I ... I..."
The rest was lost as Seamus tore back the sheets and took the shoes from her lap. He slipped each one on to her foot and tied a perfect bow.
Rhian gasped, entirely speechless at the incredulous miracle. Not only had Seamus placed a snug fitting hard toe shoe on her swollen foot, the swelling was actually gone. She tested the foot with a careful point-and-flex. Amazing! No pain. But could she put any weight on the foot?
She eased herself off the mattress and sat on the edge of the bed.
"Go ahead,” Seamus gently urged her. “Remember, you have the soul of a princess fae. You've danced on the air, whipped the summer wind into torrents which turned the ocean waves into froth. You're light as a breath over the green banks without ever so much as disturbing a single blade."
Blarney! He'd spent way too much time locked up in a rock. She was sure the moment she put any weight on her injured foot, she'd fall flat on her face. Or not.
She closed her eyes and took a deep, bracing breath. And stood up. Painlessly. She turned her questioning gaze on Seamus, who still sat cross-legged on the bed. A proud, yet unassuming smile sat on his lips. He nodded toward her.
Confident now, Rhian placed her entire weight on the toes of her hard shoes. “They're beautiful,” she breathed. And they were. The black leather, silky-soft against her skin. The buckle shone as if it were made of starlight. The shinny taps rang sharp and clear.
He shrugged. “Hey, it's what I do."
"I ... I don't be—"
"Now, now..."
"All right. Yes. Yes! I do believe.” Joy and relief flooded through her. She all but jumped on the bed and into Seamus's arms, laughing, “Okay, you do magic. You make great shoes. You're the best partner a dancer could ever have, not to mention the most wonderful lover a woman could wish for. You're definitely hired!"
