Just Believe (33 page)

The old woman nodded, "Yes, sir, go
ahead and plumb away. I know you're in there." She tapped a knobby
finger against her temple. "Who has the auld king ta'en this
time?"

"My sister-in-law," Gaelen
replied.

Mrs. O'Hara nodded. "And you know how
to get her out, do you?"

Gaelen smiled. "I know a couple of
ways."

The woman cackled. "Yes, I suppose you
do." She sobered. "But beware, sir, you don't seem so auld as the
king. He is wily from dealing wi' mortal ones for many
centuries."

Annabelle lost her appetite.

"Don't you worry, lass," Mrs. O'Hara
said. "From what I see, you have a gallant champion to fight for
your sister."

"Are you done, darlin'?" Gaelen asked
Annabelle.

She nodded. Where had the sudden fear
come from?

Gaelen rose and Annabelle
followed.

"Mrs. O'Hara," he said to the old
woman, "I don't know how long it'll be before our return." She
nodded at his words. Annabelle felt they were sharing a secret she
had no part in. "If you're not here when we get back, I want you to
know how much we've appreciated your help."

"It has been no trouble a'tall, sir,"
she replied. "Good huntin'."

Gaelen winked at her and smiled, and
they left the house. As they walked toward the car. Annabelle
slowed.

"Gaelen, what did that mean? What you
said to her before we left? If she's not there?"

"She's old, Annabelle. She may not be
here."

Annabelle couldn't believe her ears.
How could he be so cruel? "That's a terrible thing to
say."

"She understood what I was
saying."

"Why not explain it to me?"

They'd reached the car. Gaelen popped
the trunk and Annabelle dropped the bag inside. He slammed the lid
and hit the electronic lock button on the key ring to unlock the
doors. He didn't answer her question until they were on their
way.

"Once we enter the rath, we're at
Finnvarra's mercy. If he decides to, he can make a moment seem like
a hundred years, or a hundred years like a moment. When we come out
it could seem to those out here like we've been gone just a few
minutes--or a few centuries." He cut her a glance. "In fact, it's a
risk, not to me, because I'm fairy, but to you. If Finnvarra
decides to have time slow down in there, you won't know it, until
you come out."

He stared at the road ahead of
them.

"What does that mean?" she
asked.

He took a deep breath. "It means, if he
wants to, he can make sure you don't tell anybody anything about
us. If he makes time slow down enough in there, say a couple of
centuries," he glanced at her and she could see the pain in his
eyes, "you'll step out of the rath, see the sun, and turn to
dust."

"Dust?"

He nodded. "There's a story, you
see--"

"Is there a story for everything
here?"

Gaelen considered her question. "Yes.
Now, stop interrupting me. A fairy princess, Neve of the Golden
Hair, took a liking to a comely lad by the name of Oisin, son of
the great Irish warrior, Finn MacCool. She asked him to go with her
to the land of her father, the king of the Land of Youth. He was so
taken by love for her, he forgot every earthly thing and went with
her. He was no more seen in Ireland for three hundred years, which
passed for him but as a few weeks. Begging leave to visit his
comrades, Oisin left the Land of Youth on a steed given him by his
lover. Neve charged him not to leave the horse's back, or she would
be forever cut off from him. With a kiss and a promise to return,
Oisin set off.

"He arrived in western Ireland at the
place where his father's fortress had been, but found only a grassy
mound. He rode on from that place, terror building in his heart,
intending to traverse Ireland from west to east, in the hope of
finding a familiar face.

"He came upon a group of men attempting
to move a boulder. Being a generous lad, he rode up to lend his
hand to their work. But as he heaved at the stone, his saddle girth
broke and he tumbled off his mount. As he hit the ground, the white
steed vanished and Oisin, no longer a young man, but old and
withered and dim-eyed, was left behind."

Annabelle breathed to slow down her
heart. He was telling her what could happen to her and for a moment
all she could see was herself, old.

Withered.

Dim-eyed.

"And you?" she was finally able to
ask.

"I'll be unaffected. I am what I am."
He drove in silence. "This is why we seem immortal, because our
lives spent in Faerie take nothing from the time we spend
here."

"Okay, I get the picture."

"The choice is yours, Annabelle. I
can't say if we go in together what will happen when we come out. I
can't say if I go in alone whether I'll come back with Erin in your
lifetime."

"We go together," she said, grasping at
his hand.

He brought her hand to his
lips.

He turned the Mercedes into a narrow
path, two ruts leading to a rise. "Here we are.
Knockma."

There was no sign of a fortress, only a
grassy mound. As Gaelen said, it was like Tara, but Annabelle could
see from a distance it was nowhere near the size of Tara's outer
ring.

Gaelen stopped and slammed the car into
park. "Let's go," he said, popping the trunk open as he got
out.

Annabelle followed. He let her take the
bag out of the trunk.

"Get the bottle of ointment
out."

She got it and handed it to him. He'd
wrapped it in a linen cloth that he now took off it.

"Here's the plan," he
started.

"Well, finally."

He spared her only a quick grimace. "I
want you hidden from them as much as possible. So, take the
ointment and put it on you."

"There's enough?"

"Sure, but," he hesitated. "Well,
you'll have to take your clothes off."

"What?" She stared at him. "You must be
nuts. I'm not going to take my clothes off out here. What do you
think I am?"

"Darlin' girl, I'm not any crazier
about this than you are, especially now."

"Now? What about now?"

"I don't fancy having my woman
struttin' about stark naked."

"My woman? Wait just a second, Dr.
Riley--!"

"We really don't have time for a long
discussion of male-female roles in modern society, Annabelle. We
can figure out our relationship later, after all this is taken care
of and we have a future to plan for."

A future to plan for. Those words took
all Annabelle's steam. Well, almost all of it.

"Well, whether I'm your woman," her
cheeks flushed pleasantly at the sound of those words, "or not, I'm
not taking my clothes off out here in the great
outdoors."

"Then you'll have to wait while I go in
alone."

"No."

"Then you'll have to do it my
way."

"Why?"

"Because I said so. And we don't have
much time, so please make up your mind."

"Okay, tell me again why I have to be
naked."

"Because we don't have enough ointment
to conceal you clothed. You'll put it all over you, then the
fairies won't be able to see you."

"You either?"

"Me either. Of course, Erin will, and
she might give you away, but that's a risk we'll have to
take."

Annabelle thought about it for a
moment. "Okay, if you're sure nobody else will be able to see me.
What else then?"

"I'll tell you as we get to it. Go
ahead."

"Turn around," she ordered
him.

"Annabelle, that's silly. I've seen
you--"

"Turn around."

He narrowed his eyes, but he turned his
back to her. "Didn't think you'd get all fluttery on
me."

She ignored his jab and took the top
off the bottle. It was about the size of a sample bottle of hand
lotion, so she carefully measured out a dime-sized dollop and with
a stingy fingertip, dotted it on her face, smoothing it over her
skin.

Moving down an inch at a time, she
modestly covered herself until she was fairly sure she was hidden
from fairy sight.

This is really stupid, she said to
herself. Fairies. If she hadn't seen Gaelen's wings with her own
eyes, she might throw up her hands right now. If Erin hadn't been
taken away…

Reminded of their purpose for being
here, no matter the personal developments, Annabelle moved on,
finally dabbing her toes with the ointment.

"Okay, I think I'm ready," she
said.

Gaelen turned around. And he started
laughing.

"What?" she asked, twisting
around.

"Nothing. It's just, well, you look
like a disembodied wig floating around in space. Here," he said,
taking the bottle from her and pouring a few drops on his palm.
"Turn around, love." When she did, he snickered.

"Gaelen," she warned.

"I'm sorry, sweet," he leaned forward
and kissed the back of her neck. How had he known where it was?
"Just stand still for me." He ran his fingers through her hair,
massaging the ointment in. Removing his hands from her hair, she
started to move and nearly jumped when she felt his hands stroking
down her back, her backside, the backs of both legs.

"There. That's it. Can't see a
thing."

Annabelle held up her hand in front of
her face. "Gaelen, I can still see me."

"Yes."

"Is there some way I
couldn't?"

"Poor shy baby," he cooed and removed
the bottle from the pocket where he'd just slipped it. He put a
single drop on his fingertip. "Look here and guide my hand to your
eye."

He applied the ointment to her eyes
just as he had that night in the hospital when Erin disappeared and
that thing--the changeling--took her place.

"Thank you," she sighed in
relief.

"You're welcome," he replied, a smile
in his voice.

"What now?"

"We wait." Gaelen leaned up against the
car, crossing his arms.

Annabelle joined him, jerking back from
the feeling of cold metal against her butt.

"What are we waiting for?"

"The folk to gather."

They sat there as the black of night
melted into indigo, then blue, which gave way to pink and red as
the sun began to rise. Gaelen made a motion with his head.
Annabelle followed his sign. Coming out of the forest was a host of
beings, nearly all with their wings out, reflecting the rising sun
in a wild palette of color.

Her breath caught in her throat. Her
mouth opened, but she had no words for the sight.

Gaelen didn't seem so
affected.

"Looks like he sent out invitations,"
he growled. "Well, time to put my game face on." He pushed himself
away from the hood of the car and took off his jacket, tossing it
through the open window of the car.

He wore a tunic of purest white,
bordered with gold. Golden threads shot through, shimmering in the
breaking day.

With a wink, he shook his shoulders and
spread his wings. If it were possible, they were even more
impressive here in the open field than they had been over her last
night.

Annabelle ignored that memory for right
now. They had a mission to accomplish before they could consider
anything else.

Gaelen knelt down and shoved her
clothes into the bag containing the knife and the salt. Cinching it
up, he smiled at her.

"Let's go, champ."

Gaelen led her to the end of the line
of fairies entering the rath. He glanced around and stopped by the
door.

He held the bag open. "Take the knife
and stick it into the doorpost. Take a good stab, now, so it won't
fall out."

"What's this," she stabbed at the
doorpost "supposed to do?"

"Only a mortal can remove it. It's made
of iron. Fairies can't touch it."

"Wait a minute. You've been speeding
around in a car that contains oodles of iron."

"Steel, my sweet. Mixing the iron with
carbon degrades its power. And to tell the truth, there's probably
not a little bit of aluminum in that car." He led her through the
door. "Stay close by me, even when you see Erin. Don't make a
sound. And don't eat anything."

They walked along a corridor.
Annabelle, though she couldn't see herself, shivered at the feeling
of the cool air rushing over her naked skin. But she bit her
tongue. No complaining now. We're here to rescue Erin and Lucas. At
last they were doing something.

She followed Gaelen into a huge hall
filled with light. She could see through his wings that the light
was coming from stones embedded in the walls all along the ceiling
of the hall. People sat at long tables, their clothing shining,
wings reflecting the light of the stones.