Devil's Shore (11 page)

“Maybe my Aunt Dot could fly over. Or Conor’s mother.”

“There isn’t time, Caro. Have a little faith.”

I held Kathy’s hand and Caroline walked in front of us up the brick pathway. I held back to give her some privacy.

Her mother answered the door. “Your brother’s not here.”

“I know, Mom. I came to see you.”

“I’m on my way out.”

“Mom, please. I have something to discuss with you. It’s about Kathy.”

“I said I’m on my way out.”

I walked up to the door. “Nellie, we’ve driven over an hour and the child has to use the toilet. Surely you have time to serve us a cup of tea.”

“Fine,” she snapped. “Ten minutes and then I really have to go.”

Nellie offered us watery tea, the store brand rather than the stronger Irish tea bags I suspected she had stashed in the cabinet. She threw some stale biscuits at us in what was intended to be a slight. No Irish woman worth her salt would serve tea and biscuits in such a slatternly way.

But I said nothing. Just smiled while Caroline attempted to make stilted conversation. Nellie’s eyes for the most part were down, looking neither at her daughter nor her grandchild. Kathy’s expression, as usual, was vacant.

When our tea was finished, I said to Nellie, “You’ve a beautiful garden out there. Why don’t you show it to me?”

“It’s not my garden anymore, it’s my son’s and there’s not much to see.”

I forced her pale blue eyes to meet mine. “Still, I’d love to see it.”

Nellie shrugged and Caroline looked alarmed. I patted Caroline’s shoulder as I followed her mother out the back door.

The garden was small. Most of the plants had been cut back in anticipation of winter. But the stone patio was lined with pots of mums, bright orange and gold, and the autumn sun was warm. I sat on a wooden deck chair and pulled out my remaining pack of Silk Cuts. “Lovely.” I offered Nellie a cigarette.

She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t smoke.”

I smiled. “Ah, sure, you do. Who’re you foolin’?’”

“It’s a bit chilly. I’m going to head back inside.”

“It’s lovely. Sit.”

“But...”

I smiled a hard smile. “Sit. Now.”

She complied. I lit two cigarettes and handed one to her. She held it with a practiced hand and inhaled.

“Now, Nellie, I’m not sure what’s gone on between you and your daughter and I don’t want to know. But we have a favor to ask.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Why would I do Mary Devlin’s daughter a favor?”

“Because it is in your interest. You know of
Slanaitheoir
. You know what He’s done to our people.”

“Oh, I know what He’s done.”

“You know what He’s doing to Kathy now?”

“Kathy? My son said she’s autistic.”

“She’s not. She’s possessed. Possessed by Him.”

Nellie sucked on her cigarette. “What are you playing at?
Slanaitheoir’s
back in Ireland.”

“No, He’s not.”

“Yes. He is. He’s bound to the Mountain.”

“Since my mother died things have been different. I didn’t offer my services and He didn’t want them anyway, given this–” I grabbed my blond hair. “He’s changed. The old rules don’t seem to apply anymore. He can travel. He can attach Himself to whoever from the bloodline He wants. And He wants your granddaughter.”

She stuck her chin out, and for the first time I saw her resemblance to the other Mountain families. “You may have been able to fool my daughter with this. God knows she’s never been that bright. But don’t think you can fool me.”

“I am telling you, Nellie, things have changed. Skipping across the pond is no longer a protection to you. He can travel. He
has
traveled and He can take whichever of His children He wants.”

“I don’t know what you want from me,” she said, her voice rising. “I warned Caroline. I told her not to marry into your family. And then she marries a Griffin? Fool. I left Kilvarren to get away from that ’cursed Mountain and everything associated with it. Caroline’s made her bed. Now let her lie in it. It’s nothing to do with me.”

“And your granddaughter? What about her?”

She rubbed her hands together as if to chase the chill. “It’s nothing to do with me.”

“And your son’s two lasses? I saw the pictures inside. Long black hair. One even inherited the Mountain green eyes. They’re lovely girls, just to
Slanaitheoir’s
taste.”

“He wouldn’t touch them.”

“He might. He’s loose upon the world. What’s to stop Him?”

“I’m an old woman. What can I do?”

“That’s why I’m here.”

“You’re wasting your time.” Nellie made a move to rise.

“Sit down.
Slanaitheoir
has enslaved our people for over one hundred and fifty years. You can run away to New York or Florida. You can quit smoking and marry an American, but that doesn’t change who you are. You share the blood, same as me. Same as Kathy. He has a hold on you. Tell me now, after all this time, you don’t feel it. His presence. And He’s taken something from you, hasn’t he? Otherwise you wouldn’t be this angry, this afraid. He’s done something to you. I can feel it.”

Nellie hands began to shake, scattering ashes on the ground.

“We can stop this, Nellie. Stop
Him
, protect our children, our grandchildren. Release future generations from
Slanaitheoir’s
stranglehold.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I need three women who share the blood to summon Him. Once He appears, I will trap Him in the earth so He never harms us or our children again.”

“Trap Him? How?”

“Don’t you worry about that.”

She laughed. “You don’t know how, do you? You want me to risk my neck and you don’t even know how to trap Him. What kind of fool do you think I am? I think you’d better leave.”

“I need you to summon Him. Chant a few words around a fire. The rest you can leave to me.”

“The answer’s no. Now get out of my house.”

I grabbed her arm then and squeezed tight. “Who do you think you’re dealing with? I’m the Devlin witch and I’m well able to deal with
Slanaitheoir
.”

“Like your mother did? Like your grandmother? Go home, little girl.”

“I’m not like my mother. I’m stronger, more powerful, and while I may not be a match for
Slanaitheoir
, I’m more than a match for you.” With that, all four pots of mums rose in the air, spun in a circle and then crashed at Nellie’s feet. “Whether you like it or not, come with us you will. You will help us because it’s the right thing, because your daughter and granddaughter need you. And because if you don’t, you’ll feel my full wrath. Ask your daughter what’s happened to those who’ve crossed me.”

Nellie’s face turned pale, her cheeks appeared sunken then. She looked old. She turned her face away.

I slapped her across the cheek, hard. “You don’t turn away from me!” I grabbed her arm and pulled her to me, her nose only inches from mine. “You will summon
Slanaitheoir
. You will cooperate, do you understand?”

She mumbled, “Yes.”

“What did you say?”

Cowed, she said in a stronger voice, “Yes. I will cooperate.”

I dropped her arm. “Glad to hear it. We leave in ten minutes.”

* * * *

I feigned a migraine so Declan would take the afternoon off and trick-or-treat with the boys. Caroline did the same. Both of us needed to conserve our energy.

I spoke to Caro earlier in the morning and she said her mother had barely spoken to the children or Conor and spent most of her time in Caroline’s small guest bedroom. But she made no move to leave, so that was something.

I took the three sheer sheaths and the three crimson cloaks I’d found in the portal and packed them in the boot of the car. Roisin advised me not to bring the Book. While
Slanaitheoir
might suspect it exists, He’d never seen it and if things didn’t go well tonight, Roisin didn’t want Him to take possession of the Book. I told her that if things didn’t ‘go well’ tonight, Book or no Book, we were all fucked.

I retreated to the kitchen for a cup of coffee and one of my last remaining Irish cigarettes. I tried to clear my mind in preparation for this evening but it was no use. I’d no idea how to bend
Slanaitheoir
to my will, how to trap Him. Roisin had said again last night to trust my instincts, trust my magic, but that was easy for her to say. She was already dead. I had a husband and children who needed me very much alive.

“Mammy, look at all the sweets we got,” little Niall shouted as Declan and the boys barreled in the door. Niall jumped into my lap. I held him close, inhaling his little boy smell.

“Sweetheart, I can’t believe it. You’ll have to share some with me, I’m very hungry.”

“No way!”

I fed the boys roast chicken and spuds but they had little appetite since they’d been inhaling sweets all day. I knew they wouldn’t eat but I had to do it. I had to give them one last meal in case... Well, in case. I didn’t want their memory of our last meal together to be take-away burgers.

After the dishes were cleared, Declan said, “I’m not sure you should go out tonight. You still look pale. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, love. Just a headache. Besides, Caroline invited me and I feel so bad about not calling her earlier, I feel I should go.”

“And since when have you cared what Caroline thought?”

I forced my tone to be light and kissed his cheek. “All part of my new and improved American attitude. I won’t be too late. Don’t wait up.”

“Okay, have fun.”

I smiled, forcing back the tears that threatened to flow, and then headed out.

I met Caroline and Nellie in Conor’s work cottage in the back of their property, where we changed into the sheaths and robes. Nellie’s hands shook as she attempted to button up her sheath.

“Here, let me,” I said.

She nodded in thanks.

“Any questions before we leave?”

“No,” they said in unison.

“Remember, once He appears, I want you both to run out of there. Don’t look at Him, don’t look at me. Once I give you the word, run to your car and drive straight home.”

“We’re not going to leave you, Orla,” Caroline said. “I stayed with you before and I’ll stay with you this time as well.”

“Last time was different. This isn’t a bunch of wanna-be witches. This is
Slanaitheoir
.”

“I’m staying.”

“No. You are not. You will only be a distraction, a dangerous distraction.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

Nellie straightened her robe. “You don’t have to tell me twice. But I want to make one thing clear. After tonight, I’m done. I don’t care what you threaten me with. After tonight, I don’t want to see either of you again. Understood?”

“Mom. You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, Caroline, I do. You’ve broken my heart one too many times, and now this? You allowed this witch to threaten me, threaten your brother’s children. After tonight, you are dead to me, understand? Dead to me.” Nellie’s face was flushed, but her eyes cold and dry.

“Mama,” Caroline choked out.

“Enough,” I said. “Yes, Nellie, after tonight you never have to see me again. I promise. But for tonight, you’re mine and I need you, both of you, to focus your every energy on summoning
Slanaitheoir
. Nothing else matters. Understand, Caroline? For tonight, absolutely nothing else matters.

Caroline wiped her tears. “Understood.”

We drove in separate cars to a desolate strand of beach on Fire Island, accessible from Sayville along a narrow road connecting it to the main island. This time of year the island was mostly deserted. We unloaded the wood from the back of Conor’s truck. Caroline and Nellie worked on the fire while I stared out onto the water. The full moon illuminated every ripple on the ocean’s surface. As the waves crashed onto the sand, I felt the surf call to the element water now coursing through my veins. I allowed its power to speak to me and opened myself up to receive it.

The wind picked up and blew across the roiling sea. I lifted my hands to catch it. It whipped my hair across my face as if welcoming me, and I opened my mouth to receive it. My head felt light as the cool autumn wind hummed through my veins.

I turned to face mother and daughter. The fire crackled and reflected in their eyes.

“Ready?” Caroline asked.

I dug my bare feet into the sand to anchor me, to connect with my own element. My toes cramped as the earth’s currents traveled up my legs. I nodded. Caroline and Nellie walked over to me, also barefoot, and each took a hand.

Our chant in Irish was simple: “
My lord, your children call you. Slanaitheoir, show yourself.
”

Nellie lost her studied American accent, and as the chant continued, her voice softened and returned to its native Mountain lilt. Caroline’s voice, too, as it formed the ancient words of her ancestors, assumed a slight lilt.

The fear left Nellie’s face as she lifted her beakish nose, in defiance, in anger, as she gave way to the chant, surrendered to the intonation of the language of the Mountain. Caroline also seemed to have lost her fear, and her normally placid face assumed the mask of a warrior.