Luck of the Irish

by Sara Humphreys

  “A magic mirror?” She arched a dark eyebrow at her friend. “Like Snow White? ’Cause it didn’t work out well for her. She got banished to the woods with a bunch of little dudes and then ate a poisonous apple. Not good.”

  “No.” Maggie shook her head as she recalled the tale. “According to the story the mirror is enchanted, but the magic can only be accessed when the necklace and the mirror are united. The amulet is a key or something.”

  “Enchanted? What, so you get like three wishes? Because if that’s the deal please wish for two rich, hot guys on a tropical island and take me with you.”

  “Actually there are three wishes involved, but you only get them if you free the leprechaun from his prison, or you can command him to take you to his gold.”

  “Leprechaun” Alex’s face wrinkled with disgust. “Gross. A little, elf man? Every story I’ve ever heard about leprechauns makes them sound like evil, little buggers, and all they are concerned about is protecting a pot of gold. Why couldn’t it be a hot vampire or something? The three wishes and the gold sound pretty good, though. I’d take the gold because then I could buy the stuff I would have wished for.”

  “Not me. I’ll take the three wishes. Now, do you want to hear the rest or not?”

  “Fine.” She rolled her eyes and held up both hands. “Sorry. Go ahead.”

  “Like I was saying, the leprechaun was banished to the mirrored world by a powerful warlock. His daughter had fallen in love with the leprechaun, much to his dismay.”

  “Why?” Alex asked with genuine curiosity. “I mean, why was he pissed?”

  “I don’t know,” Maggie giggled. “I guess warlocks and leprechauns, who are actually fairies, didn’t socialize normally.”

  “Wait.” Alex gave her a quizzical look. “If a leprechaun is a fairy then why are they called leprechauns? What’s the diff?”

  “I don’t know, but if I ever meet one I’ll be sure to find out. Anyway, soon after she ran off with him she got pregnant and died in childbirth. The father blamed her lover for her untimely death and locked him away so he could do no more harm. Supposedly, only the person with the amulet can free him and in turn he will grant his rescuer three wishes, or they can demand to take his gold.”

  “What happened to the baby?”

  “I don’t know.” Maggie frowned. “Aunt Lizzie always changed the subject when I asked about that. Maybe it died and she didn’t want to tell me that part?”

  “Okay, that’s a great story unless you’re the leprechaun dude in prison, or the dead girl.” Alex pulled out her cellphone and started texting someone. “But I mean, jeez, it’s just a fairytale. You and I both know that there’s no such thing as magic or leprechauns.”

  “I know, but my Aunt Lizzie said that leprechauns don’t live in the human world, they live in the fae dimension and that’s why there aren’t any leprechauns around here most of the time.”

  There was more to the story, but Maggie felt kind of silly talking about the magic words to release the leprechaun. Not because she thought it made the story sillier, but because if she ever did find the mirror she sure as hell was going to say them. She knew that Alex thought the whole thing was bogus and Maggie couldn’t bring herself to admit that there was a part of her that believed the whole damn thing. That made her either crazy or a total romantic.

  She was probably both.

  “Girl, please,” Alex snorted. “Leprechauns?”

  “I know... it’s a silly story.” Maggie let out a slow breath, her shoulders sagging as it appeared she was once again going to come up empty handed. “I always loved it though and it reminds me of my family... makes me feel close to them.”

  Her voice trailed off and tears stung her eyes, but she willed them away. Bawling in the middle of an antique store on St Paddy’s day was not part of the plan. Maggie was an only child and she’d lost both her parents within a year of each other, not long after college graduation. When Aunt Lizzie passed away last summer the urge to seek out the mirror had become something of an obsession. She knew it was unlikely that there actually was a mirror like that, let alone a magical one, but it was fun to fantasize about it. Not only that, it really did make her feel closer to her family and less lonely.

  She had Alex and some casual co-worker friends at the office, but it wasn’t the same. Come Christmas or Thanksgiving they had big festivities to go to, full of aunts, uncles and cousins, but not Maggie. They always invited her to join them and she even went to Alex’s house once for the holidays, but it felt awkward. Maggie hated feeling like a charity case, and the inevitable pity-party looks of oh-that-poor-girl. From then on she opted for staying home and watching old movies instead. Escaping into fantasy for a few hours seemed like a much healthier option, even if maybe it wasn’t.

  To add insult to injury she found out she wouldn’t be able to have children. Alone and defective. Awesome.

  “Hey.” Alex’s voice, soft and edged with tenderness, drifted over Maggie’s shoulder and pulled her from her memories. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so freaking insensitive.” She linked her arm through Maggie’s and bumped her hip playfully before dragging her toward the man at the counter and shouting, “Hey, mister?”

  “Yes?” The elderly man peered at them over his crooked, black-rimmed glasses.

  “You have any other mirrors around here?” She winked at Maggie. “Maybe an oval one with a gilded frame with a shamrock on it?”

  “Alex,” Maggie said slowly. “It’s fine. Come on, let’s go. I’m sure—”

  “As a matter of fact, I do.”

  Arm in arm the women stopped dead in their tracks and gaped at the man with open mouths.

  “You do?” Maggie and Alex said in unison.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m Darby, by the way.” The old man placed his newspaper on the counter and carefully pushed himself off the stool. Maggie thought she actually heard his bones creak, but then again it might have been her stifling a shriek of excitement. “Right back here. We acquired this piece years ago at an estate sale and it’s always surprised me that nobody picked it up. It’s really unusual, and in all my years in the business I’ve never seen another like it.”

  “No way,” Maggie whispered through trembling lips. She clenched the amulet tightly and excitement shimmied up her back. “Is he serious?”

  Darby’s stooped over form headed toward the back, right corner of the shop. He hitched up his gray trousers and waved for them to follow. Maggie’s heart raced and she clung to Alex, still not wanting to believe it was really the piece she’d been searching for. If it wasn’t, the disappointment might be more than she could bear.

  However, as they rounded the corner and the mirror came into view all doubts vanished and Maggie’s breath rushed from her lungs on a shuddering gasp. She slipped her arm from Alex’s and moved toward the long, sought after object of her obsession. After all these years and countless antique shops... she had finally found it.

  It was smaller than she’d expected, but there was no mistaking it or the emblem with the gold shamrock fixed at the top—the one that matched her necklace. The only difference was that hers was green enamel and the mirror’s was entirely gold.

  “That’s it,” she whispered. “Oh my God. It’s exactly like Aunt Lizzie described it. It’s a little smaller than I thought it would be but look.” She pointed to the top of the frame with one hand and held up her amulet with the other. “It has the same emblem embedded in gold. This is it. Alex, it has to be. I can’t believe we actually found it.”

  “Are you sure? That one doesn’t have any green on it.”

  “Yes.” Maggie nodded. She was absolutely certain that this was the mirror she’d been searching for all these years. “No doubt about it.”

  “Awesome.” Alex clapped her hands and jutted her thumb to the front door of the shop. “Let’s get it and get out of here. Beers await.”

  With the amulet clutched in her fist, Maggie pressed it against her pounding heart and inched cl
oser to her reflection. She squinted and touched her face, which seemed different somehow. It was her reflection, the same one she’d looked at all her life, but she looked brighter or something... more alive. Her long, honey blonde hair hung loose around her oval shaped face, and her eyes which she always thought of as mossy green looked more like a pair of glittering emeralds. It was as though the mirror had photo shopped her into someone shiny and beautiful, as opposed to lonely and dull.

  “What the hell?” Maggie murmured. She leaned closer, as though she wasn’t sure she was seeing what she thought she was seeing. “Everything looks... ”

  Maggie released the amulet and pressed her shaking fingers against the smooth surface. She expected it to be cold and lifeless, but it was neither. If she didn’t know better she’d say the damn thing was actually alive.

  She gasped as a buzzing sensation shimmied up her arm like lightning and stole her breath. It didn’t hurt, in fact, quite the contrary. Delicious warmth spread over her skin in a swift, rippling wave and she heard a man’s voice.

  A guttural, gruff whisper filled her head... Scaoileadh Me.

  Maggie yanked her hand away and the words faded as quickly as they’d come. She snapped her head toward Darby, who was stuffing his handkerchief back in his pocket, and she fought a wave of dizziness, confusion, and a hint of nausea. She’d heard that phrase before. Every time Aunt Lizzie told the story she would whisper that exact phrase.

  It was what the leprechaun said as he begged to be freed.

  “W-what did you say?” Maggie fiddled with the amulet again. “That was Gaelic wasn’t it? My Aunt Lizzie spoke Gaelic sometimes.”

  Alex was texting on her phone and seemed oblivious to the entire situation. It definitely wasn’t her who’d spoken. Aside from the fact that she wasn’t paying attention, the only language Alex spoke was Bronx-ease.

  “Huh?” The old man frowned and looked at Maggie like she’d lost her mind. “I didn’t say a word and definitely nothing in Gaelic. English is about all I can muster and that’s questionable sometimes.” His scraggly, white eyebrows knitted together. “You alright?”

  “I’m fine,” Maggie said absently. She turned back to the mirror and wondered if she was starting to lose it. Hearing voices was not exactly the sign of a sane person. Maybe all the time she spent alone was beginning to get to her, or perhaps she wanted to hear it so badly she imagined it. “I just thought I heard you say something, that’s all.”

  “Okay. I texted Lisa and Steph, you remember them from my neighborhood, right? Anyway, I told them we’re running late, but it’s cool because they already snagged a booth.” She slipped the iPhone into her purse and her mouth fell open in genuine shock. “Girl, you have got to buy that mirror! Look at you.” Alex’s voice cut through the room with her loud Bronx accent. “You’re gorgeous, but damn. Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the hottest bitch of all?”

  Maggie caught her friend’s gaze in the mirror and the two of them burst out laughing, but Darby seemed unamused. The familiar laugh of her friend also made her feel less crazy. She must have imagined what she heard, or maybe it was someone in the apartments upstairs? Yes. That had to be it because any other answer put her back on the crazy train.

  The older gentleman tugged a handkerchief out of his back pocket and blew his nose loudly. The action silenced both of them and elicited a grimace from Alex.

  “Rude much?” Alex said so only Maggie would hear her.

  “Shh.” Maggie elbowed her.

  “You want it?” He asked abruptly while hitching up his pants and shooting an annoyed glance at Alex, who obviously wasn’t as quiet as she thought she was. “Is this what you were looking for?”

  “Yes.” Maggie nodded enthusiastically and ran her fingertips carefully over the ornate, gilded frame, but avoided touching the glass again. Hope, excitement, and giddiness bubbled up making her feel like she did that Christmas when her parents surprised her with a brand new bike. “Absolutely. This is definitely it.”

  “It’s two hundred dollars.”

  “Holy crap,” Alex blurted out. “For a used mirror?”

  “Sold.” Maggie shot Alex a look to silence her, knowing her friend probably wanted her to bargain with the guy. “The price is more than fair for an antique like this. Thank you, Darby. Should I take it down for you?”

  “Yes, ma’am. If you think you can manage.” Darby let out a raspy chuckle. “I ain’t as young, or as tall, as I used to be. Bring it on up to the register and we’ll get you squared away, young lady.”

  Maggie stepped around a couple of small end tables and gingerly removed the mirror from its spot on the wall. It wasn’t as heavy as she thought it would be and as she held it out in front of her she knew exactly where she was going to put it.

  “This is gonna hang in my bedroom right above my little dresser and will be a hell of a lot nicer than the old Ansell Adams print I got from the flea market.”

  “Are you gonna lug that thing around Manhattan all day?” Alex followed her to the front of the store, her impatience emerging. “It’s gonna get broken and you’re probably gonna have to stand on the train ride home because of the people heading out after the parade. Maybe you should come pick it up tomorrow or something?”

  “No,” Maggie said more quickly than she’d intended. “It’s fine, really.”

  “I’ll wrap it up real good for you with bubble wrap and brown paper.” Darby bent over with a groan and retrieved rolls of both from behind the counter. “It’ll be safe and sound.”

  “Perfect, thank you.”

  Maggie set the mirror gently onto the long glass counter as Alex’s phone buzzed in her purse yet again. She answered it and hustled to the front door of the store while Darby started talking more to himself than Maggie about where in the world he put the tape. The old man shuffled to the back of the store, presumably in search of tape, and Maggie stared at the mirrored surface.

  Would it happen again? Maybe what she heard had been a fluke.

  She nibbled her lower lip and glanced around to make sure no one was watching, and with shaking fingers touched the glass one more time.

  Scaoileadh Me.

  Nope. Not a fluke.

  The instant her flesh hit the smooth surface a rush of warmth whisked up her arms and her blood seemed to hum. Her breath came faster and her tongue flicked out over her dry lips. Maggie leaned over and pressed her palm harder against the glass. She stared at her reflection, which started to shimmer as though underwater. Her green eyes, edged with pale, blonde lashes, widened as a man’s voice, gruff and filled with urgency, drifted into her head again... Scaoileadh Me.

  She yanked her hand away and swallowed the hysterical giggled that threatened to bubble up and boil over. Darby was still in the back and Alex was chatting on the phone. Neither of them had heard what she did, but she definitely heard it.

  ‘Release me’. That was what he said. No doubt about it. It was in Gaelic, but that was what the voice said.

  Holy. Crap.

  What the hell was happening? Was she going crazy or could the legend actually be true? Maggie shook her head and laughed softly at her foolishness. There was no such thing as leprechauns or enchanted mirrors. That was ridiculous.

  Nope. Definitely not.

  But even as the denials raced through her head and Darby wrapped up her purchase, Maggie couldn’t deny what she’d heard. She also couldn’t deny that the little girl inside of her was dying to explore the possibility that her newly found treasure was indeed magic.

  “I’m losing it,” she muttered under her breath.

  Crazy or not, one fact was certain. Her evening of drinks with the girls would be short-lived. She was going to take this mirror back to her apartment and get some answers. Maggie had a sinking suspicion that those stories her Aunt Lizzie told her, the ones that sent her to bed with her head full of leprechauns and fairies, may be more than fairytales after all.

  Chapter Three

  Declan Aherne had been
trapped in the mirrored world, alone and tormented; for centuries and he’d begun to believe he would never be freed.

  The only notion that kept him from going completely insane was one of returning to his daughter—and taking revenge. If he ever did get out of this hellish place he would find the warlock who had sent him here and shove a spell right up his arse. Witches and fae lived far longer than humans and he knew there was a chance that the old warlock still lived.

  Malachi McGregor’s dark magic was no more powerful than Declan’s own. If he hadn’t been blinded by grief and worried for his daughter’s safety he might have attempted to avoid this fate. He’d brought Anastasia’s body back to her parents out of respect for them and because it was her dying wish to return home. The last word she had whispered before taking her final breath was home. Declan never could deny her in life and he sure as hell wouldn’t deny her in death.

  He hadn’t realized what the old bastard was doing until it was too late.

  Declan could still hear the warlock laughing when he walked away, and a black cloth covered the glass leaving him truly alone. That was how he’d existed for countless years.

  All he had was time.

  Time to think about what he’d lost.

  Alone. Silence. Darkness.

  When the cloth was finally lifted and his window to the human world was returned, Declan had been blinded by glaring light and overwhelming sounds. The society on the other side of the glass was nothing like he remembered. At first, it seemed like a nightmare, but it didn’t take long for him to realize it was the human world.

  At least he thought it was the human world.

  The manner of dress and language spoken had been altered beyond anything he could ever have imagined. His mirrored prison had traveled across the sea and had been passed from one home to another. He watched families love, children grow up and eventually those children had children of their own. There were deaths and births and watching it all unfold, knowing he wouldn’t share any of that with Anastasia, was indeed torture. Thoughts of his daughter occupied much of his time. Wondering where she was and if she was happy. Was Dyanna, the old fae he’d left her with, teaching her magic in the fae dimension as he’d requested, or was she being raised with mortals?