I Dream of Dragons (Boston Dragons) (8 page)

The goddess’s white hair was bound in a trendy chignon at the nape of her neck.

Oh, crap. Did Euterpe decide to tattle on me after all?

To Amber’s surprise, the Goddess of All grabbed her shoulders and kissed the air on either side of her cheeks. “Amber, my dear. I hope you don’t mind me showing up without calling. I need to speak to you.” She glanced at Rory over Amber’s shoulder. “In private.”

“Certainly. You can join me in my bedroom.” She lowered her voice and whispered, “Our mutual friend is already there.”

“Lovely! We’ll have a party,” the goddess said.

Amber doubted that. She led Gaia to her bedroom, and upon opening the door, was shocked to find a white folding table and chairs that looked as if they had come from a wedding or a garden party. A basket of fruit graced the middle, and small plates and saucers were spread around on three sides.

The goddess took a seat as Amber closed the door. Euterpe sat next to her.

“What kind of tea do you like?” Gaia asked Amber.

“Oh, anything. As long as it has no caffeine. My nerves are kind of shot.”

Mother Nature pointed at the table and said, “Herbal it is.” A teapot appeared on the table. “You’ll pour,” she told Amber.

That said, the goddess launched right into it. “Euterpe, I’m afraid you didn’t understand what I wanted you to do when I asked you to train the new muse.”

“Oh? I’m sorry, Gaia. What did I do wrong?”

“Well, just about everything, but I’m here now, so we can straighten this out.”

Amber let out a sigh of relief, then realized Euterpe could interpret that as an insult and tried to cover it with a cough.

“I see,” Euterpe said. “Please tell me what to do and I’ll comply.”

“Simply teach her the basics of being a muse. What her powers are and how to use them.”

“I thought that was what I was doing.”

Amber had finished pouring the tea and finally sat down. “Actually, you were teaching me what
not
to do.”

“But both sides are necessary,” Euterpe insisted. “She needs to know what to do as well as what
not
to do. Don’t you agree, Goddess?”

Gaia took a long sip of tea and Amber did too.

“Actually, we don’t have a lot of time. I think it would be better if I gave her the quick version and you can be excused to do”—she twirled her hand in the air a couple of times—“whatever it is that you do.”

“Yes, Goddess. I understand.” She rose and left the room.

Amber gazed at Mother Nature and wondered what she’d meant when she said they didn’t have much time.

“Amber, as a muse you’d be able to listen for Mayday calls. Did you know that?” Gaia asked.

“No, I didn’t. How would I do that?”

“Simply tune your frequency to pick up those words. You might want to specify that you only hear them when spoken above one thousand feet. Otherwise Beltane will drive you crazy.”

“What’s Beltane?”

Gaia rolled her eyes. “The springtime festival held on May first. May Day. With a May pole. Sound familiar?”

“Oh, yeah.” Amber tipped her head. “But how do I ‘tune a frequency’?”

Mother Nature closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “She really taught you nothing.” She focused her gaze on Amber again. “I’m sorry. Simply ask for whatever you need. Be as specific as possible, and I’ll give you the ability.”

“I see. So if I say, ‘Mother Nature, I’d like the ability to hear the term “Mayday” when spoken above one thousand feet,’ you will grant me that ability?”

“Correct.”

“What about mountain climbers? They might be calling for help at above one thousand feet.”

Gaia leaned back and stared at Amber. “You’re a smart little shit.”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t being a smart-ass. Do I need to take care of them too?”

“No, I really meant it. You’re smart to think of that. I want you to concentrate on air travel. I’ll find someone else to look after fools who insist on going where they don’t belong. Or not. Maybe I’ll let them learn from their own stupid actions.”

She took a deep breath and stared at Amber. “Since I know what you meant, I’ll grant you the ability to hear ‘Mayday’ limited to air travel, but understand that you must be as specific as possible in the future. I can’t be held responsible for misinterpretations.”

Amber didn’t point out that Mother Nature herself had not been specific enough. Somehow she knew the powerful goddess wouldn’t take it well.

Before either of them could go on, Amber heard a Mayday call. It sounded far away, but she heard it plainly.

“There it is,” she cried. “I heard a Mayday!”

“Drat, I’d hoped they could keep that piece of junk in the air,” Gaia muttered. Then she grasped Amber’s hand. “Here we go.”

Suddenly Amber was in the back of a cockpit, and the plane was losing altitude. She heard one engine sputter and go silent.

“Lean over the pilot’s shoulder and tell him what to do.”

Amber’s throat almost closed in panic.
Tell the pilot what to do?
All she could think of to say was, “Tighten your seat belt, and the sick bag is in the pocket in front of you.”

But suddenly she just knew—and she directed him toward a long, straight, deserted field in Polynesia. The pilot managed to lower the landing gear and steer. At last, he landed the plane safely.

She heard a cheer rise up behind her. Gaia tapped her on the shoulder and gave her a thumbs-up.

Then she was back in her bedroom—alone. She collapsed on the folding chair and mumbled, “Holy fuck.”

All the furniture disappeared and she landed on her butt on the floor. “Oww!”

A moment later, Rory knocked and opened her door. “Are you all right, lass?”

“I will be when the movers get here.” She rose and rubbed her backside.

“I have a fine futon.”

“How nice for you.”

* * *

Finn leaned on the bar and wondered if Shannon could be trapped in that cave that seemed to be part of the castle built into the cliff on her property. If so, how would he get down there to save her? Just then, a man with an English accent swiveled his stool toward his partner and leaned in to speak in a low voice.

“So, how did the town of Ballyhoo get its name? Do you know?”

“Nobody remembers how the town got its name, or if the term
ballyhoo
—meaning ‘uproar, commotion, or hullabaloo’—came after the township. The place is ancient, with relics and weaponry carbon-dated to 300 BC. The bogs were lousy with them before they all got carted off to the national museum. The ancient Irish kings must have had quite a ballyhoo here.”

His partner chuckled. “I remember hearing that. They may have hidden some of their treasure in the bogs, knowing a war was coming.”

“All of it is now in the Dublin Archeological Museum and National Museum of Ireland, but if a newly discovered ancient castle exists in Ballyhoo…” The first man gazed over his shoulder at a dejected Finn.

“I’m way ahead of you, mate.”

Finn turned toward the gentlemen. “Are you archeologists?”

They looked startled at first. Then sly smiles stole across their faces. “Why, yes. We didn’t know you were listening. Are you interested in the castle and caves?”

Finn straightened. “Very.”

* * *

Minutes later, Finn was rappelling down the cliff. They had already searched the ruins of the castle that were visible above the section that seemed to be built into the cliff below. Any treasure that might be found had to be hidden in the caves. There didn’t appear to be any steps connecting the upper and lower parts.
How did the ancient kings get into the caves? They must have had wings…

The portly English guys might be archeologists, but neither one was Indiana Jones. At least they rented the equipment and showed him how to use it. If he weren’t so worried about what or
who
he might find in the caves, he’d admit this was a lot of fun.

At last he came close enough to one of the caves to peek inside. Nothing seemed to bar the entrance, but beyond that, it was just a hole of darkness. He grasped the flashlight they’d loaned him and shone the light inside the cave.

One of the gentlemen leaned over the cliff and called down, “What do you see?”

“Nothin’ yet,” Finn called up.

The guy above him snorted. “Well, perhaps you should go inside.”

Go inside? “And how do you propose I do that when I’m hangin’ from a string?”

The other bloke laughed. Then he leaned over far enough to see Finn. “It’s a very strong cable. You should be able to push off from the cliff and swing inside the cave. Then it’s just a matter of planting your feet and unhooking yourself.”

“Oh, sure,” Finn muttered. “Just swing back and forth and hope to land far enough inside to do that.” Then he followed through on the thought. “How will I reach the cable again when it’s time to come back?”

“Pull a little extra in with you. The weight of the harness should hold it in place, but if you’re worried, you can put a rock on top.”

That sounded reasonable. He didn’t want too much slack however. Then he’d have to dive off the cliff and bounce when he came to the end of the cable. Trusting it to hold him was hard enough, even though he was slight of build. Tall and wiry, one might say.

But Shannon could be in there.

He had to try.

Finn lowered himself just enough to reach the bottom of the cave entrance, scrunched his knees, and pushed off the edge. His feet landed on the rough floor, but the cable dragged him back outside before he could stand.

“Oh, I have a bad feelin’ about this,” he called up. The guys ignored him and looked like they were having a heated discussion with each other. He could just make out what they were saying.

Apparently one of them wanted to take any artifacts they found to the Royal British Museum and the other thought they should stay in Ireland. Hmmm… Finn was a loyal countryman and didn’t want any more treasures leaving his homeland. Therefore, he needed to keep whatever he found a secret. Unless he found Shannon, in which case he’d be unable to contain his joy.

He had to try again. This time he let out a little more cable. Just enough to send his bum over the threshold. Hopefully he could stand up quickly and have the slack he needed to prevent being dragged outside again.

He pushed off the cliff and swung inside. This time he stuck the landing. He took a couple more steps inside and let out a little more cable before he dared remove the harness.

Now he just needed something to weight down the equipment so it wouldn’t leave him stranded even if a strong wind tried to take it.

He took his flashlight again and shone it farther into the cave. Something glinted. He couldn’t quite make it out, but it appeared to be gold on top and black on the bottom. Best of all, it looked heavy enough to tether himself to. He inched forward.

Mother Mary! It’s a feckin’ pot of gold coins!
There was no way he could tell the Englishmen about this and expect them to leave it all in Ireland.

Suddenly a short man dressed like Lucky rushed up to the black iron cauldron. It was almost as large as he was. He grasped the edges.

Appearing angry, the little man said, “You’ll not be takin’ me gold, so just forget it.”

“Who are you?” Finn asked innocently.

“Me name is unimportant. Just go.”

“I can’t. I’m lookin’ for me girl. She disappeared a while ago. If I have to turn over every rock in Ireland to find her, I will.”

“You’ll not find her in here.”

“How do you know that?” Finn shone the flashlight farther into the tunnel. “This place looks like it could be quite large.”

“It may be large, but I know every bit of it. There are no lasses here.”

“Ha. Her sister is missin’ too, and you said ‘lasses.’ You know somethin’. I caught you in a lie.”

At that moment the little man tried to run but couldn’t. His feet were stuck firmly in place. He pushed against the cauldron, straining so hard his face turned red. “Shite! Why did you have to say you caught me?”

Could it be? Finn almost laughed. He’d caught a leprechaun, and according to legend, that pot of gold was now his.

But there was something he wanted more than gold. He prowled around the cauldron in case the little bugger managed to pull free. He’d catch him and sit on him to find out what he knew.

“So,” Finn said confidently, “I’ve caught a leprechaun.”

“No, you haven’t. No, you haven’t,” the little man said as he struggled against the force holding his feet.

“And looky there. I’ve caught you in two more lies.”

The leprechaun finally gave up the struggle and lay over the gold. “You can’t have it. It’s mine! I sto—”

His eyes widened and Finn realized what he’d been about to say.

“Ah. You stole it, did you? And who might you have stolen it from?”

“That’s it. I’m not sayin’ another word.”

He had the little guy. Finn doubted even a leprechaun lawyer could get him out of this. He crossed his arms. “I’ll make a bargain with you.”

The little leprechaun straightened up and looked interested.

“I’ll let you keep your gold if you help me find Shannon and her family,” Finn said. “Oh. And I’ll be needin’ your name.”

The little man’s lips thinned. At last he ground out between clenched teeth, “It’s Shamus.”

“Shamus what?”

“Just Shamus. It’s not like there’s so many of us that we need last names.”

Finn nodded. “All right. Now, tell me how to find Shannon Arish.”

Shamus let out a deep sigh. “Last I saw, they were on a fishin’ boat headin’ west.”

Finn narrowed his eyes. “And why would they suddenly decide to go fishin’ and never come back?”

The little man looked away and shrugged.

“I wonder if you might remember more if I ground your foot under me heel.”

Shamus didn’t react.

“Hmmm. Don’t value your foot much, do you? Mayhaps if I gouge out your eyes and toss them over the cliff so you can’t see your gold.”

The leprechaun winced. “You’d never…”

Finn tipped his chin up stubbornly. “Desperate men do things they’d never do otherwise. If you know somethin’ you’d better start talkin’ or prepare to say good-bye to your eyes.”