"What the—" Kieran steps toward me. "What is it doing?"
"I think it absorbs magical energy," I say. "I've noticed it before."
"Can you use it to do magic?"
I shake my head. "I've tried. It must amplify the protection or the visions or something, but I can't actually do any magical stuff."
When I tried it, I was actually disappointed I couldn't make it work— which just shows how much I've changed in the past few months.
"Kieran, focus," says Aislinn. "This isn't the priority right now. We have to bring the stone with us to the mountain tomorrow, for Samhain."
Kieran shakes his head. "That's absurd. Having it there, so close to them, when it's the last relic they need for the ritual?"
"If we don't agree to bring it, they might kill Arden. Or 'raise the stakes,' like Malcolm said. Who knows what they could do? Kidnap Zane's family, hurt our human friends? We have to do it."
"You know they'll probably kill Arden anyway."
"Don't say that. You don't know that."
"Don't I?" His eyes blaze. "They're going to kill both of them, before we can even make it close enough to save them."
"Maybe not. They have to keep Ériu alive until the ritual, which they can't start without the stone. And they might keep Arden alive as leverage, too."
I can tell Aislinn's working on a plan. There's a scheming look on Kieran's face, too— his Far Darrig look.
"You guys gonna clue me in? What's the play?"
"I'm not sure yet, but I may have an idea," says Kieran. "We need to go visit a friend. Zane, get the stone from Julio. You're coming with us to Bluerock Mountain tomorrow."
I kind of figured. "Aislinn, you need to text Malcolm that you agree to his terms, at this number." I hand her the card. "You—" I point at Kieran. "—you tell me as soon as you got that plan figured out, F.D. Try not to get me killed if you can help it."
"I'm over trying to kill you, Zane. Your job will either be the safest or the most dangerous."
He grins, and with that, the two of them vanish.
Swearing, I glance around, hoping no one saw.
"That was careless of them," says Laurel's voice from behind me.
I jump. "Damn, girl! Don't creep up on a brother like that!"
"Sorry. I was heading over to join the chat, but I guess they couldn't wait. What's goin' on?"
I tell her, and she nods thoughtfully. "Okay. So I'll go with you to get this rock thing, and I'm coming to the Bluerock Mountain or whatever to help with the fight."
"Laurel, you can't. This is Fae stuff. You're human."
"So are you."
I hold up the amulet. "Yeah, but I got this glowy necklace thing. I'm a Seer, you know?"
"Respect to the Seer," she says, bowing. "But you're not gonna tell me I can't be a part of this. I just gotta pick up my big ole knife from home, and then I'm in. All the way."
"You're gonna get yourself killed."
"Whatever. You just do the blood knot thing on my chest again, gimme a paquet or two, and I'll be all set. Gonna wreak— some— havoc." She snaps her fingers.
"Aw, the paquets! I gotta pick those up from home anyway. Aislinn asked me to have Gram make a bunch more; Gram's been workin' on 'em for weeks. We're giving one to each Fae, for extra protection."
"Okay then. Sounds like we got places to go and errands to run. Come on!"
During the drive, I get to thinking. I guess Laurel can tell, cause she says, "Nickel for your thoughts, Z."
"When I told Mom about Aislinn and the Korrigan, you know, I left out the part about Samhain," I say. "Here I am about to go into a battle tomorrow, and they don't know anything about it. If I die, they won't know how or where."
"You're not gonna die."
"How do you know?"
She shrugs. "I have faith."
"Faith?" I glance at her, then back at the road. "What's faith got to do with it?"
"I believe it's gonna work out. We're gonna do this, we're gonna make it."
"Girl, that kind of faith doesn't keep death away if it's comin' for you."
"Doesn't matter if you understand it or not. The whole thing about faith is you don't have much to prop it up. It makes sense, but only partway, you know? The rest you gotta just believe."
"It was simpler to believe in things," I say. "Before Aislinn. Before I met Wynnie, and saw all that pain. Now I just don't know."
She's quiet, staring out the window.
"I like to be able to see what's going on," I say. "Like with the magic stuff, it's so mystical, you know, out there— you can't get a good handle on it. That's why I don't like it."
"Yeah, well, sometimes the things that are most powerful are the hardest to see."
For a second I've got no words. Then I look at her, and she's laughing silently. "That was deep, huh?"
I laugh too. "Yeah, pretty deep. Where'd that come from?"
"I got no idea, brother. No idea." She pulls out her phone. "You want me to hit up Julio and tell him we're comin'?"
"Sure."
When we get to Julio's, he's waiting for us outside.
"Man, I don't know what you all got goin' on, but this rock thing ain't just a rock," he says. "I'm sleeping, you know, and suddenly this thing it just starts humming, real soft-like, and I'm like whaaat? And then it stops and I go back to sleep, and a few nights later it does it again. Dude, tell me the truth right now, okay? Is this some kind of alien rock? Like from outer space?"
"Yeah, Julio, that's exactly what it is, an outer space rock," says Laurel.
Julio frowns. "She knows what it is? How come everybody gets to know except me? How does that seem fair to you?"
"Hey man, I'd tell you if I could," I say. "But it's not my secret, all right, bro? If the day comes when I can tell you, I will, man, I promise."
"Fair enough, fair enough," says Julio. "I'm just glad to get it out of my room. You take care of it and don't bring me no more crazy alien rocks, okay?"
"Deal." We walk toward the truck, and then I hand the stone to Laurel and I turn around and give Julio a big hug.
"Okay, man okay," he says, slapping my shoulders.
"You're a good friend, man."
"Dude, I know." He raises his voice. "You look out for him, Laurel. I think he's been out in the sun for too long today, he's goin' all soft like melted chocolate."
"Whatever, man." I climb into the truck with Laurel, and we drive away.
I'm gripping the wheel, gritting my teeth, trying to force my eyes to stay dry.
"Clench your butt cheeks," says Laurel.
"What?"
"To keep from crying. It's a trick I learned from my aunt. You know she's a lawyer, and she got a high-pressure job, but she can't show weakness, right? So when she's feelin' emotional, she just tenses up her butt, and the tears don't come. Try it."
"Why would I need to do that? You're crazy."
Damn. It really works.
When we stop at my house for the paquets, my dad is the only one home.
"Your mom took Kali out to buy new jeans," he says. "That girl keeps growing, we gonna have to quit feedin' her."
"She's gonna be tall like Ade," I say.
"For sure, for sure. So you want that box, the one from your Gram?"
"Yeah."
"C'mon."
I follow him into the back part of the basement.
"When it came, I tucked it away back here. Figured your mom wouldn't be too happy to see it, especially if it's what I think it is."
"What do you think it is?"
"Some kinda magical stuff, hoodoo or whatever. Right?" His eyes meet mine, dark with concern.
My dad, the engineer. Give him a mechanical problem and he can solve it in no time. He's not so good with words, though— lets Mom do most of his talking. He wasn't at the house when Aislinn, Wynnie, and Kieran showed up mostly dead, but he heard about it from Mom and Kali. And I can tell he's worried.
"Your mom told me you're not planning to get in
volved with this druid thing, this Samhain business."
"Yes, sir." But my eyes dart aside from his when I say it, and he sighs.
"That's what I thought. Son, you got a mom and two sisters who are just crazy about you, and a lot of friends and good people at church and at school. And me. Now if you think there's somethin' you gotta do, you do it. But you make sure you're back here next weekend, safe and sound." He grips my shoulder, and I pull him into a hug.
"Yeah, Dad."
"Okay, okay." He points out the big box from Gram. "Get outta here with that before your mama sees it."
Back at the truck, I open the box. It's crammed with hoodoo paquets, tiny bags charmed and fed with magic. They'll help protect our side against the druids.
Nestled among the paquets is a large, bulky envelope. There's a note inside, and three bags that look different from the others, tied with beaded strings and feathers.
I read the note aloud, stumbling over Gram's crooked writing. "Power sachets, for your friends. Increases magical stamina."
It's perfect, cause Aislinn and Kieran have been scouring the internet looking for relics to enhance their powers. As far as I know, they didn't find any they could afford, or that would arrive in time. Now they can each use one of these, and I can give the third to Arden if we manage to rescue her.
"This is a good thing, right?" asks Laurel.
"Yeah, girl," I say, giving one of the sachets a toss. "This is a very good thing."
22
HELL
Aislinn
And just like that, it's here. October 31.
I've been calling it the Day of Doom in my head for a while, because that's how it feels— massive, world-ending, lethal, destructive. It could be the end of all good things, not just for me, but for a lot of people. It could be the end of Arden and Ériu.
I wonder if we could have told some humans about the situation, gotten more help. But they wouldn't have believed us without hard proof, without Fae coming forward and showing their powers. And most of them just aren't ready for that. Once that secret is out, there's no concealing it again.
This is a Fae matter, one that we need to handle ourselves.
Kieran and I drive alone, the trunk of the Audi loaded with protective wards and voodoo paquets in boxes. We crammed the back seat with camping lanterns, for nighttime fighting outside the cave, and with shovels. For burying the bodies afterward.
Zane and Laurel follow in his truck behind us— in fact, we ride at the head of a whole caravan of cars and SUVs and trucks and a couple of rented buses. To make sure that we get there in time, we leave hours before sunset. Besides driving time, we have to account for our time hiking through the woods to Bluerock Mountain.
"Do you think our plan is good enough?" I ask Kieran for the hundredth time.
"It's as good as we could manage in the time we had."
So encouraging, this one.
"There's one advantage," he says. "Neither side has anyone who could be called a military expert or battle strategist.
"At least not that we know of."
"True, I suppose the druids might have someone. But they seem to be mostly the business professional types, not the action types. We're going to make mistakes with our strategy, our moves, but they will too."
He's trying to make me feel better.
It's not working.
I'm feeling— well, terrified. Like a seventeen-year-old girl who really, really doesn't want to die, or witness the world ending, because there's so much I haven't seen. So much I want to do. My worry probably shows on my face, because Kieran glances over at me and then frowns, like he's wondering how to fix it.
Next thing I know, he's sliding a CD into the player. Skipping ahead to a particular track. The beat starts, and I recognize it— an old song, a late '70s AC/DC song, an anthem to freedom and the devil-may-care attitude— "Highway to Hell." Kieran is bobbing his head to the beat, glancing sideways at me with a roguish half-smile. Then he starts singing, in the yowling, screeching voice of the lead singer.
If he wanted to make me laugh, he's an instant success. He's so into it, caterwauling like a crazy person and grinning the whole time, and he adds extra sauce to every screech when he sees how hard I'm laughing. I laugh till I'm gasping, tears in my eyes. It feels amazing.
"You," I say breathlessly when the song ends. "How are you so good at making me feel better? And how are you not freaking out?"
"Oh, I'm freaking out," he says. "But when I freak out, I overcompensate with bravado. Give 'em hell, and all that."
"I like it," I say. "I think I just might adopt that attitude."
He reaches over and gathers my fingers in his. "You and I are survivors. If anyone can make it through this, we will."
"You don't know that."
"Hey." He shakes my hand a little. "Where did that smile go? Do I have to play the song again?"
"No," I give him a small smile. "Play me a different one. And sing it in your own voice this time— I want to hear you sing." In case we die.
For a minute he's quiet, and then he tells his phone to play "Close Your Eyes," by Michael Bublé. I've heard it before, but I didn't realize he knew it. It's so not a song I would have expected him to choose, yet somehow it's so perfect I feel like crying as he sings along. It's pain, and it's beauty, and it's love that isn't going to end, even if we do.
◆◆◆
An hour before sunset, we are all standing at the foot of Bluerock Mountain.
It's a larger force than I could have hoped for. I think the druids' capture of Ériu had more of an impact in our favor than they planned on— Kieran spread the word to everyone he knows, and there's an extra contingent of pixies here, and more Lianhan Sídhe and cluricaun than we expected.
Every Fae carries a pack with water and food. They know we're in this thing for hours. All of them are warded or protected somehow— with a hoodoo protection paquet and either a blood knot on the chest or a shield knot medallion. Thanks to Zane's Gram, Kieran and I have the hoodoo sachets to boost our magical energy.
We stand in line upon line of tense faces and fierce expressions, under trees so rich with red and orange and gold leaves that my heart might burst with the beauty of it. Kieran and I are near the front, catching the brunt of the chilly wind from the mountain. I clutch my leather jacket tighter. A brilliant crimson maple leaf, perfectly pointed, floats down in front of me, and I catch it in my hand. Red like love, like blood. Like the Far Darrig.
Of all of us, Kieran's role is the most dangerous. He's going up there first, alone. The druids will all be warded, but that doesn't prevent him from using his invisibility and his voice, or his physical skills. Later in the fight, once their wards have lost some of their strength, he'll be able to do spellwork— but even then, it's going to take more energy than normal. I hope he remembers to be careful, not to over-exert himself.
Before we begin the climb up to the cave, I turn to him. And we look at each other, because it could be the last time.
"Don't die," I tell him.
"Same to you, love," he answers. And then he disappears.
From behind us, a young black-haired selkie steps forward to take Kieran's place. He's dressed in red, his brows shaped to mimic Kieran's, and his mouth is covered with a warded leather mask. We're hoping they mistake him for the Far Darrig at a distance. It will give Kieran a little more time to do his part.
On my other side stands Zane, his medallion glowing golden. "You'll see him again," he says.
"Is that the word of the Seer?"
He doesn't smile. "I hope so."
"Have faith," says Laurel, from behind us.
I glance down the row of Fae, to where Ross stands magnificent, head and shoulders above everyone else, his head crowned with those giant curved horns. The Lianhan Sídhe flanking him aren't in flimsy outfits anymore; they're dressed in thick leather, long hair pulled back tightly, ready to fight.
Holding up my hands, I motion everyone forward, and they
begin climbing the slope after me. As we near the cliff face, where the cave entrance is hidden, I see a row of silent riders. Dullahan, their gold bands in place around their necks. Fenodyree stand along the rocky edge above the cliff, each with a huge rock near at hand, to push off or to throw at us. It's just as Zane's dream predicted.
In the center of the row of dullahan stands Malcolm.
I knew he would be there to greet us; but my heart sinks when I see him smiling, clearly ready for whatever we might bring his way. He doesn't seem one bit surprised to see our little army.
"I believe we have someone you want," he calls down to us.
"Maybe," I call back. "And maybe we have something you need as well."
Zane opens his pack and draws out the Heart of the Earth.
Malcolm moves forward a step when he sees it. This is the last thing he needs to complete the ritual, the only object standing between him and victory.
"And the Far Darrig allows you to give me this?" he says.
"The Far Darrig answers to me," I reply, loudly, so everyone on the slope above can hear me. "You see, I have covered his mouth as a gesture of goodwill. He can't use his trickery on you. So believe me when I say I am ready and willing to bargain."
"Bring up the stone, and I'll release the Korrigan Arden," he says. "And we'll give you two hours' head start, so you can run before we open the gate. Accept this mercy, or die."
"The goddess Ériu and the Korrigan Arden, or no deal," I shout.
"Stupid girl! Do you expect me to make such a bargain? To give up something I need to open the Gate?" Malcolm steps forward, ahead of the row of dullahan. "The goddess Ériu will bleed for us tonight. Give me the stone, or all of you will pay the price."
Suddenly a shout, in Malcolm's voice— it sounds as if it comes straight from his throat, but I know better.
"Now, dullahan! Attack them now!"
The dullahan have no reason to suspect the Far Darrig— they think he's standing mute and muzzled beside me. At the sound of Malcolm's order, they whip off their golden collars, roaring together— and from the neck of each one rises its head, trailing dark smoke, flesh burning away to reveal bone, eyes melting into pockets of red and orange fire. The riders spur their horses toward us, down the slope, scattering shale and dirt as they come. Their heads swoop and dart above them, shrieking and laughing.
Samhain Page 22
