Lemon Pies and Little White Lies (29 page)

“Let them go!” Ella Mae shouted over the wind.

Arms thrust outward, and the birds were released over the edge. The wind grabbed at them with greedy hands, spinning them around and around like pirouetting dancers. Ella Mae and her people joined hands and watched as the birds were whisked away, their candles bobbing like firefly lights.

The gale increased in force and Ella Mae could sense the rage in each slap of air. The cold tore at her skin, but Ella Mae didn’t even blink. She was flanked by friends and family. She was upheld and supported by the people she loved and by those who loved her. She would not waver. She would stand firm.

Her hair whipped around her head in a whiskey-colored cyclone of mud, grit, and twigs. Her clothes were torn and soiled, but she didn’t care. All that mattered now was the song.

Begin
, she silently pleaded.
Hurry. Begin
.

Somewhere down the line, one of Sissy’s students began to cry. The sound barely escaped her mouth before the wind snatched it away. Ella Mae worried that her people would
be influenced by the girl’s fear and would drop their hands and let the wind drive them back, but they didn’t.

And then, Ella Mae thought she heard music. She cocked her head to one side and listened intently.

“Yes,” she whispered, and then waited another moment. There it was again. That achingly beautiful melody that spoke of home. It filled the space around and inside her. It dispelled the wind and cold, instilling her with peace and warmth.

Ella Mae turned to her mother. “This was your gift. You brought this song to us. This old song from a time when we were united. You brought hope to us and to those people down there.” She gestured at the lake. “The rain and wind have stopped. Havenwood won’t be destroyed, because those people have been deeply moved by that song. You showed me that sometimes strength means making oneself vulnerable. Without you, we would have been lost.” She released Reba’s hand and wrapped her arms around her mother. Kissing her cheek, she held her for a long moment. “Take care of them, Mom. I have to go now.”

“I’m coming with you,” her mother said, pulling away.

Ella Mae shook her head. “No. Those people will need you. By the time we get them up here, they’ll be weary in body and soul. They must be given food, rest, and compassion.”

“I won’t let you face Nimue alone,” her mother protested.

“I’ll bring Reba and Fiona, because I have no doubt that one or two of Nimue’s priestess cronies will be hanging around, but you know that this confrontation comes down to me. Nimue had Marin leave clovers at two crime scenes to taunt me. She formed another clover out of the storm clouds to challenge me. I must answer her challenge, but I can’t if I’m busy worrying about what’s happening to the
people who need sanctuary. You, Aunt Sissy, and Aunt Verena have to take charge. There will be confusion and many questions.”

The song continued, and the more it played, the less moisture-laden the air became. It grew lighter, like a person shrugging off a heavy coat, and here and there a star appeared in the night sky.

Ella Mae gave her mother’s hand a final squeeze and then walked over to where Carol, Lundy, and the other Scots stood. “I’ll go down first and then the rest of this group will follow. Every boat, dinghy, and raft we could appropriate is tied to the docks near my house. You’ll be right on my heels. Carol, use Alfonso to speak to Nimue’s followers. Many will be displaced Scots, and I’m sure they’ll be comforted by a familiar accent. Lead them to the grove.”

Ella Mae headed for her truck. All around, people rushed to their own cars.

“Wait!” Opal Gaynor suddenly blocked Ella Mae’s path. “What about Loralyn?” Her face was etched with fear. “I have to go with you—I need to know that she’s okay.”

“If she’s with Nimue, your presence will jeopardize your daughter’s safety,” Ella Mae said, and put a hand on Opal’s shoulder. “Nimue will take the opportunity to pit the two of you against each other. Stay here and help”—Ella Mae searched for the right word—“the refugees. I’ll do everything in my power to bring her back to you. I promise.” Even though every second mattered, she held Opal’s gaze as if she had all the time in the world. “Loralyn is one of us. She deserves a second chance.”

Opal swallowed hard. “Thank you,” she whispered, and turned to face the lake. Somewhere below, her daughter was either waiting to be rescued or to commit an act of treachery against people she’d known since birth.

The last thing Ella Mae saw before getting in her Jeep was her mother and her two aunts appearing at Opal’s side. They surrounded her, forming a protective circle with their bodies. They bent their heads close to hers, offering her the kind of tender and wordless support that only women can offer another woman.

Ella Mae drove away with a warm glow in her heart.

•   •   •

She didn’t remember the trip through the deserted downtown nor pulling to a stop in front of her garage. It seemed like one moment she was on the mountain and the next she was on the dock behind Partridge Hill, stunned by the sight of the coils of mist covering the lake. A new moon had burned through the remains of the storm clouds and laid a path of pale light over the shifting mist. The island was barely visible, but Ella Mae could sense Nimue’s presence there.

This is my home
, Ella Mae thought angrily.

Reba and Fiona boarded the little motorboat first, and tossed backpacks stuffed with weapons into the bow. Reba gunned the motor after Fiona had untied the lines. Ella Mae sat on the bench, twisting her head to look backward until she could see other people launching boats into the water.

Though the song could still be heard, it was no longer a reverberating echo, but a faint thrum, like a train whistle fading into the distance.

“Faster!” Ella Mae called to Reba.

Reba pushed the throttle and the light craft flew over the dark water. They passed several bird lanterns bobbing in the waves, their candles weakened by the mist, and Ella Mae’s resolve wavered slightly. The lake she’d known her whole life had become alien. Up ahead, the island appeared to be lit by the ghost lights she’d read about in horror stories—blue-tinged
illuminations hailing the arrival of evil spirits. In the worst tales, the lights belonged to the souls of the drowned, whose sole purpose was to lure poor swimmers into the water in the dead of the night.

Ella Mae shivered. The warmth she’d felt standing between her mother and Reba was gone. She glanced from the fog-fractured outline of the approaching island to the crossbow slung over Fiona’s shoulder to her own empty hands. She’d hedged her bets on Nimue’s magic being spent by this point, but what if it wasn’t? Ella Mae knew nothing about what Nimue was capable of. As for her own powers? She didn’t have combat training. She was a great shot, but her gun would be useless against someone who could freeze a bullet in midair.

I’ll just ask the butterflies to carry her away
, was Ella Mae’s half-mad thought as they approached the island.

She blinked, trying to see clearly through the mist, because she didn’t think there’d been so many trees growing along the beach before. Suddenly, she gasped. They weren’t trees, but people.

“Look at all of them,” Fiona said, reaching for her crossbow.

Reba unslung her gun and leaned it next to the steering wheel. “We’re coming!” she called to the crowd. “Help is on the way!”

The figures, who’d been standing motionless and silent, suddenly surged forward. They waded into the water, shouting, “Please!” and “Get us out of here!” and “Save us!”

Ella Mae saw them plunge into the water. Men and women of all ages and colors, clearly desperate to escape the island. “Cut the motor,” she told Reba.

The people headed straight for their boat. Reba tensed and shook her head. “There’s too many of them,” she whispered
urgently. “They’ll swarm the boat in their panic. We won’t make it ashore.”

Fiona stood, walked to the bow, and waved her hands. “It’s all right, my friends. Here is the true Clover Queen.” She pointed back at Ella Mae. “Let her pass so she can finish this. Look beyond us! Do you see all those boats? All those people? They’re coming for you.”

“Just as Ella Mae promised,” Reba added. “They’ll take you to our grove. There’s a Beltane feast waiting for you. You can eat and drink and rest in the soft grass. Lord knows you must be tired.” She paused. The people had stopped pressing forward. Their eyes shifted from the boat to Ella Mae to the approaching vessels.

“You’re with friends now,” Ella Mae said. “You’re safe.”

After a long hesitation, several people exchanged glances of relief. Another group began to murmur and gesture at the boats. A couple close to Ella Mae even managed timid smiles.

“Careful now!” Fiona called. “We’re turning the motor on.”

The boat moved slowly toward the shore, and as it passed, Ella Mae heard quiet cries of “Thank you!” and “Bless you!”

When the hull struck sand, Reba cut the engine and tossed the anchor onto the beach. A man who’d been standing nearby offered Ella Mae his hand and helped her disembark.

“What should I expect to find?” she asked him.

“It’s just the Lady, a siren, a male water elemental, and three priestesses. The priestesses are air elementals. They’re weak, but they’ll die for her.”

Ella Mae nodded. “And Nimue? Has producing the storm drained her?”

The man seemed reticent to speak, but he finally said, “As long as she holds the sword, she has power.” He jerked his
head to the right. “She knows you’re here. You can’t surprise her.”

“That’s not really our style anyhow. We like to rush in with our guns blazin’,” Reba said. “Thanks, hon. You’d best hop aboard one of those boats now.”

The man heeded her advice without delay, and the moment he was out of earshot, Fiona and Reba huddled together and discussed their next move.

Ella Mae closed her eyes. She’d been calling the butterflies for days. Though they were safely sheltered against the storm, she knew they were close by. Thousands of them. Swallowtail butterflies curled inside flower petals. Milkweed butterflies hidden beneath tents of grass. Angel moths pressed against tree trunks and tiger moths clinging to the underbelly of plant leaves. All awaiting her command.

Gather and prepare to swarm
, she beckoned.
Swarm the woman with the sword.

When she opened her eyes again, Fiona and Reba had sparkly goggles perched on their brows. They looked like a cross between Mardi Gras masks and x-ray glasses.

“Weeks ago, you asked Aiden to research how electricity travels through water. He used his findings to create light-pulse weapons. At first, it was just a precaution, but as soon as this storm hit the coast, he thought we might need them.” Reba passed Ella Mae a pair of goggles and gestured at the gun in Fiona’s hands. It was short and thick with a double-stacked barrel and a curved grip. “With both of us firing at once, we should knock out Loralyn and the air elementals. Maybe Hugh too. If we’re lucky, it’ll take them all down.”

Ella Mae slid the goggles over her forehead. “What kind of injuries are we talking about?”

“Loss of consciousness,” Reba said. “At least, that’s what we’re hoping for, but these haven’t been tested on real people.
Only target dummies. And a cow.” Seeing Ella Mae’s frown, she assured her that the cow had made a full recovery, and then she turned to Fiona. “We’ll shoot first and talk later, right?”

“Aye,” Fiona said, and the pair marched forward.

The mist grew thicker as they entered the copse of trees lining the shore. With the branches blocking most of the moonlight, it was nearly impossible to see. Reba’s eyes were sharper, but she was moving forward with care, her alert gaze seeking an enemy.

Show me the woman with the sword
, Ella Mae told the butterflies.

A vision filled her mind. Nimue stood on a moss-covered rock in a clearing up ahead. She wore her crimson dress, and a short sword with a luminous green blade rested on one shoulder. She seemed completely composed, and the sight of her placid features frightened Ella Mae. Nimue’s army had deserted her. She was left with Hugh, Loralyn, and three exhausted priestesses. Why, then, was her mouth curved upward in a smug grin?

Hugh’s gray, glassy stare was directed right where Ella Mae and her two friends were headed. Loralyn’s hostile gaze was also fixed on the same spot.

“Approach from the sides,” she told Reba and Fiona. “They’re gathered on a group of rocks in a clearing ahead. The moment I put my goggles on, fire.”

Reba looked delighted, but then her smile faltered. “What about Hugh? What if he attacks you?”

Ella Mae shook her head in resignation. “I can’t hurt him. The real Hugh is in there somewhere. He’s a good man, Reba, and he has my heart.”

“Damn it all,” Reba muttered. “And Loralyn?”

“We need to bring her back to Opal if we can. Her siren’s
song won’t work on us, so let’s just hope the light pulse will knock her out.”

Fiona nodded. “If not, we have other ways of incapacitating her and trussing her up like a Christmas goose until we can get her to the grove. But what about Nimue? You heard the man on the beach. Her powers won’t fade as long as she has the sword.”

“Leave her to me,” Ella Mae said, and strode forward.

Reba and Fiona vanished into the rising mist. It swirled in front of Ella Mae, squirming and wriggling like a pit of vipers, leading her to the Lady of the Lake.

The island was preternaturally quiet. No birds twittered. There was no insect buzz or the rhythmic croaks of frogs. The whole place was like a landscape painting, forever suspended in time, until Ella Mae stepped into the clearing where Nimue was waiting.

“At last, here you are,” Nimue said in a honeyed voice with only a hint of Scottish accent.

Ella Mae planted her feet and met Nimue’s bold, assessing stare. “You’ve traveled a long distance to meet me, ruining many lives along the way. Why didn’t you just take a plane? It would have saved everyone a great deal of trouble.”

Nimue threw back her head and laughed. Her red hair fell over her shoulders in fiery waves and the light from the sword blade cast a green pall on her hair and skin. She looked like a specter. “I didn’t spend years studying, recruiting followers, and hoarding money to travel all this way just to kill you.”