An Immortal Descent (28 page)

“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.”

She nodded without taking her eyes from the yarn. “If the devil’s really come home, I suspect she’s gone back to her blood mam.”

I swallowed hard. “Do you mean Carmen?”
Please say no... Please say no...

The needles stopped moving, and Deidre looked up at me. “She’s the one, the very creature that laid waste to Ireland three thousand years back. How did you come to have her name on your tongue?”

For some reason, I felt inclined not to involve Cate and Tom. “Deri boasted of the connection the night before she stole my friend. Since then, I’ve learned that Carmen is either a goddess of black magic or a powerful sorceress from Athens who came to Ireland. Do you know her actual ancestry?”

“Hardly a soul alive even knows her name. And from what little I’ve managed to gather, there’s no certainty what she be—goddess or some other unworldly creature.” Deidre’s expression turned grave. “Except for a witch, that is, and wicked to the core. Me Roddy was a gentle spirit. It’s a pity Deri didn’t take more after her da.”

Despite my knowing Ailish,
gentle
and
Cailleach
didn’t align in my mind. “Is it from the mother then that Deri got the power to spread the pox?” As Carmen had raised three sons named Darkness, Evil and Violence, the witch could well have passed the gift of disease to her daughter, along with a good dose of sadism and insanity.

Deidre laughed softly. “Oh, no, Roddy had a fine hand at sickness. One o’ the best in all Ireland.”

A curt breath burst from my throat. “But you said he was a gentle soul.”

“And that he was, culling the weak so they needn’t worry about struggling through this life, and being a burden to those that love them.” She clucked her tongue again. “He could also sense restless spirits, which is how he found Carmen all those years ago.”

Angry words pinged against my teeth at the notion of a
merciful
culling. I bit them back as only one thing mattered at this point—finding Nora while she was still alive. “Can you tell us where she’s buried?”

“Not too far from here, that’s for certain.”

My heart skipped a beat. Grabbing the arms of the chair, I scooted forward in anticipation. “Will you show us?”

Deidre’s mouth puckered over my question. “Not exactly.”

I gaped at her in surprise. “Why not? I thought you wanted us to kill Deri.”

“Oh, your killing that little she devil has nothing to do with it.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Deidre didn’t answer right away, but took a moment to inspect the woolen square, which had grown noticeably bigger. “You need more o’ the story to understand.” She loosened another length of yarn from the skein, and the needles resumed their patter. “Ever since Roddy was a lad, he liked to walk alone at night. It was a part o’ his gift, you see, to sense those spirits who were trapped between this world and the next. If the connection be strong, he could sometimes help them to cross over. Other times, he’d keep them company for a short while afore returning home in the morning. It was on one of these walks that he felt Carmen’s spirit agonizing beneath the oak grove.”

“Was she really buried, like the legend says?”

“Depends on how you look at it. Once the witch was defeated, King Bres imprisoned her in an old earthen mound that connected the two worlds. On the human side, he stacked large stones to form a dolmen that he enchanted to keep her out of Ireland. He put an enchantment on the other side as well so she couldn’t escape into the Otherworld.”

“She’s trapped in one of the pathways,” I breathed.

The corners of Deidre’s mouth turned down. “That she be, though not without some o’ her own dark charms. Night after night, the witch cried out from the earth for help. To most people, her wailing would have been mistaken for the wind howling. But to someone who can hear restless spirits, she had the voice o’ a siren. Me Roddy heard it once and was drawn to the dolmen like a man possessed.”

“How did he get past the enchantment?”

A dark laugh mixed with the clink of needles. “Me guess is that King Bres only thought to keep Carmen in as no one in their right mind would ever seek her out after all she did to Ireland. Problem be that after so many years, folks forgot all about her. Roddy had no notion who was waiting inside, not until he got there anyway, and she wound a web around his heart. From how he told it, she could spin lies faster than a spider and had a fine hand at illusions.”

My brows drew together over this last bit. “But if the dolmen only went one way, then how did Roddy get out?” And Deri, too, for that matter.

“Because the enchantment be specific to Carmen. Anyone else can come and go as they please, so long as they carry a spot o’ blood from the Tuatha Dé or one of the other ancient races that ever used the passageways.” There was a short pause while Deidre unwound a long length of yarn. I chewed my lip and waited for her to continue.

“Deri visited her mam ever so often once she was old enough to understand the truth, with nary a problem passing back and forth through the mound. Roddy didn’t like it, mind you, but he was too kindhearted to stop her, and she never stayed longer than a day or two. It wasn’t until the past year that the visits became longer and more frequent.”

I thought of Nora again, and how she could possibly play into all of this. “It doesn’t make any sense. Why would Deri kidnap my best friend and bring her all the way to Wexford? If Carmen is trying to escape, what could she want with a human?”

Deidre’s forehead wrinkled in thought. “If the stories be true, it took four Tuatha Dé to imprison the witch. Could be Deri’s attempting to gather four of their descendants with the idea to break the enchantment. Are you sure your friend be pure human?”

“Yes,” I answered emphatically. “Nora has no notion of our kind, so far as I know.”

“Then maybe it be a trick o’ sorts. Who’s to say what that little devil be thinking.” Deidre shook her head slowly. “A week afore Roddy died, he was very upset about something Deri told him. He only shared a wee bit as I was breeding for the first time and he didn’t want to upset me.”

My gaze dipped to her belly. The needles and woolen square rested on the swollen curve, momentarily forgotten. “What did he tell you?”

“Sounded like a bunch o’ cryptic nonsense at the time. But I think it had to do with Carmen wanting her three sons back, who were exiled from Ireland during the rampage.”

“Wouldn’t they be dead by now?” Even if Carmen were a goddess, the offspring most likely carried some human blood, and it only took a drop to render a person mortal.

“Dead and turned to dust,” Deidre confirmed. “So you understand why I didn’t take it to heart. I wouldn’t now, except...” Her words trailed off as she glanced skyward through the glass pane.

“Except for what?” I prodded.

She looked back at me, eyes unmistakably darker this time and worry etched in her face. “That I feel something be wrong, like a foul breath waiting to blow across the land.” She laughed softly. “Carmen and her sons almost destroyed Ireland once. Given another chance, I know in me bones that they won’t fail a second time.”

A headache threatened after so much depressing talk, and I pressed several fingers to my temple to help stave it off. If Deidre was right, this was one pack of sleeping dogs we needed to let lie, or remain imprisoned and dead, in their case. “The sooner you show us where Carmen is buried, Ailish and I can stop Deri from whatever she has planned.” I just prayed it wasn’t too late—for Nora and for every man, woman, and child living in this ancient land.

“I’ve never been to the place meself. Roddy told me about the dolmen after we married, and by then he wouldn’t go anywhere near it, for fear that the witch would draw him in again.”

My heart dropped. “You don’t know where it is?”

“Oh, I’ve a good sense o’ where the mound be from listening to Deri and Roddy talk. Going on foot, the journey would take nigh on two hours. But with horses, you can be there in half the time.”

I pushed to the very edge of the chair. “Where is it?”

Deidre gestured toward the front garden. “Follow the trail back to the stream. At the charred stump, you’ll turn away from Wexford and go for a fair space until you reach the edge of an oak grove. There’s no path to guide by, but if you travel due north, you’ll come upon several large rocks that be leaned together like a giant stacked them. That’s where the witch be.”

The directions sounded easy enough, except for one small detail. “How do we get into the mound?”

“Don’t know exactly. The key’s in the blood is all Roddy ever said. If it be a true dolmen, I suppose you walk between the stones just, and the goddess blood will speak for you.”

This was a rather big assumption, considering all that rode on our success—or failure. “And if it doesn’t?”

Ailish shifted on the footstool. I glanced at her, fully expecting some sort of insight on our predicament. Or anything really, just to acknowledge that she had indeed been paying attention and understood what was at stake. Her silence persisted though as she drew a long breath in through her nose, held it for several seconds, and then exhaled.

The fate of Ireland rested on our shoulders, and that was all she had offered since coming into the cottage.

Annoyed, I returned my attention to Deidre in the form of a pointed stare. “Did Roddy allude to any other way into the dolmen, in case walking through the stones doesn’t work?”

Deidre kept her eyes fixed on mine. “Can you smell it then?”

I started. “Smell what?” Wood smoke? The herbs and meat simmering in the pot?

“I smell it all right.”

My head jerked back to Ailish, and I saw fevered eagerness in her eyes. “What on earth are you talking about?”

A grin split her mouth. “Death,” she said, tipping her head toward the bedroom door. “Coming from there.”