The Magic Knot (13 page)

“Um…” Rose cleared her throat. “I think maybe we’ve got our wires crossed.”

“Nonsense. ’Tis there plain as the nose on me face. Give Niall a chance. He’s taken some knocks along the road.”

“But I don’t think—”

“Aye, you do. You own part of him. Be patient…please.” Tears filled her eyes, glittering in the moonlight. “He’ll take a while to trust you before he gives of himself willingly, but the lad deserves to be loved.”

What should she say? Before she could decide, Ana squeezed her hand, turned, and trotted back to her front door.

Ana’s tears left a tinge of guilt in Rose, as though she’d hurt Niall, yet he was the one being unfriendly. She released her breath. Both Michael and Ana had told her Niall liked her. They must know him better than anyone else. Maybe she would give him a chance. But he’d have to come halfway to meet her. She wouldn’t make assumptions again and end up feeling foolish as she had after she kissed him.

Nightshade hesitated in the hall outside the kitchen when he arrived back at Trevelion Manor. Silence filled the room, but he knew from the smell of processed food
that Tristan was inside. He flexed his muscles, composed his expression, then burst through the door.

“Niall has Rose! I saw her through a window at the Elephant’s Nest.”

Tristan looked up, his pupils black pinpricks of anger. “Damn that interfering, righteous son of a bitch. Why couldn’t he forget her and do as I asked? I should never have involved him.” Tristan threw his fork down into the TV dinner before him. “He’ll pay for crossing me. Bring him here.”

Nightshade held his breath and waited for Tristan to realize he’d asked the impossible. When Tristan didn’t rescind the command, Nightshade said, “If I try to bring him by force, chances are we’ll both end up dead.”

Tristan rubbed his lips. “Bring me the sister then. The leprechaun. He’ll come to retrieve her.”

Nightshade had expected this strategy and planned his answer. “They’ve warded her house with iron and salt. I can’t get at her unless she comes out.”

Tristan stood, marched across to the sink, and dumped his meal in the trash. “The Tuatha Dé Danaan are prouder than the bloody piskies. I won’t let him trample me as if I’m dirt beneath his feet.”

How could Tristan’s view of life be so warped that he believed he was the one being trampled? Nightshade watched the druid pace back and forth. Now was the time to set his plan in action. “Niall and Michael are taking Rose to Ireland.”

Tristan jerked around and glared at him. “Why?”

Nightshade shrugged and snapped his wings against his back. “I couldn’t hear everything they said. I think she wants advice on how to rescue the piskies.”

“Damn, damn.” Tristan stamped his foot and stared
at the ground. “Why would Niall agree to go back to Ireland now? He’s absented himself from the Irish court for nearly five years.” Tristan turned a questioning glance on Nightshade. “Surely he isn’t willing to suffer Ciar’s wrath for my daughter’s sake?”

Nightshade shrugged. “I’ve no idea.” For once, he told the truth. He didn’t understand Niall’s motive for returning to Ireland, and it troubled him.

“You must follow them. Find out what they plan.”

Nightshade hid his smile. He could have suggested following them to Ireland himself, but it was so much better if Tristan believed the idea to be his. “Ireland’s a long way.”

“Break the journey in Wales. You’ll fly that distance with no problem. Nightstalkers have been known to fly hundreds of miles in a day.”

Nightshade exaggerated the haughty carriage of his head. “I’ll make the flight to Ireland in one jump easily.” And he would. Especially as he’d be flying in the private plane Niall had chartered. “I’ll have a few hours’ rest, then leave.” He was due at the Elephant’s Nest to meet them first thing in the morning.

Life was so satisfying when events unfolded as he planned.

Tristan headed toward the door and paused. “First opportunity you get, kill Niall. He’s become a pain in the neck. When he’s out of the way, bring my daughter here to me.”

Damn.
Nightshade stilled as he listened to Tristan’s footsteps retreat down the hallway. However annoying the Irish half-breed was, he didn’t want to kill him. Rosenwyn would not be impressed if he did that, nor Michael. And Nightshade had high hopes of forming a blood bond with the bard. Michael’s blood
was tainted with alcohol and tobacco, but his skin smelled sweet, and he was easy on the eye. The thought of sinking his teeth into Michael’s beautiful neck made Nightshade’s pulse throb in tender parts of his body.

For now, he would accompany Niall, Rosenwyn, and Michael to Ireland and keep his options open. He didn’t want Rosenwyn to succeed in her bid to release the Cornish troop. But he respected her motives. Ailla had possessed the Magic Knot paintings for years and made no attempt to restore them to life. Rosenwyn had only just discovered the true nature of the paintings and already she was making plans to free the piskies.

Rosenwyn deserved his loyalty and support. He just wasn’t sure he was strong enough to pay the price.

Two days later, Rose peered out the back window of the rental car as dusk fell over the Wicklow Mountains of southern Ireland, turning the moorland purple. Niall stopped their SUV beside huge metal gates embellished with gold leaves and set in a seven-foot wall.

“This here’s the main entrance to Wicklow House,” Niall announced, “home of the Daoine Sidhe, descendants of the Greek gods who set foot on the Emerald Isle one Beltane thousands of years ago.”

“You told me you were Tuatha Dé Danaan.” Rose frowned. With their arrival at the Irish fairy court imminent, all the strange names and words the men had taught her in the last two days were jumbled together in her head, and she couldn’t get them straight.

“’Tis another term used for our race, lass. Theoretically, we are descended from the Tuatha Dé Danaan, though very few of us are considered worthy of the name.”

Rose held up her hand to stop his explanation. “Keep it simple for me. What do I call the Irish fairies?”

“Daoine Sidhe,” Niall replied.

“Or Sheagh Sidhe,” Michael said. “And don’t go
forgetting what we told you about the elements. We’re all of the earth, so our powers are grounded, but you’ll see air elementals who can become invisible and walk unseen, and the queen is a fire elemental.”

“Enough.” Rose rubbed her eyes, then remembered her eye shadow and looked at the smear of gold on her hand. She wasn’t used to a lot of makeup. No doubt the gold powder would be smudged all over her face by the time she made her grand entrance.

Nightshade patted her shoulder reassuringly. He knelt in the back of the SUV like a giant dog with his arms resting on the seat beside her, so he had room for his wings. Niall had tried five rental car companies before he found an SUV with privacy glass. “Don’t fret, Rosenwyn. You have equal status to Ciar, my sweet. Believe in yourself. Act the part. Never show weakness.”

“Ciar’s been a queen for two thousand years. I’ve just about managed two days. It takes a little getting used to, you know.” Feeling like a kid on her first day of school, she glanced down at the lovely dress Niall had persuaded her to buy in Dublin: green silk with a scattering of transparent sequins across the front glittering like water droplets on a leaf. It was the type of dress her mother would have loved, the type of dress Rose eschewed in favor of plain business suits. She’d spent years molding her professional image; now everything she believed about herself was being turned on its head. She rolled her eyes to heaven. Someone up there had moved the goalposts on her, big-time, and the closer she got to meeting Ciar, the less sure Rose was that she herself could carry off the role of queen.

Rose sighed. “Okay. If we’re going in, let’s do it. How do we open these gates?”

“We shan’t be entering here,” Niall said. “It’ll be impossible to find the house.”

“I thought you lived here for years before you moved to Cornwall?”

“Aye, but the house is invisible and the entrances move.” Niall glanced over his shoulder and arched an eyebrow as if daring her to question him.

Rose raised her hands in acceptance. “What ever you say.” She was tired of challenging him on every detail she didn’t understand. In the last few days, she’d learned that some things defied rational explanation.

“I assume that now we’ve come all this way, we can get inside?”

Niall put the car into gear and continued along the road running parallel to the wall. “We’ll be entering through the forest to the west of the estate. I’m on good terms with Lesidhe, who guards the trees.”

Rose flipped her brain into neutral. She didn’t want to know who Lesidhe was, or why he needed to guard the trees. Nightshade’s hair brushed her neck as the car swung right and bumped along a rutted lane. Closing her eyes, she rested her cheek against his shoulder. The sweet scent of almond oil on his skin soothed her as it had when she was a child.

“Take the lass through the important rules again,” Niall told Michael.

Rose groaned but opened her eyes and met Michael’s cheeky grin.

Michael held up his hand and ticked the points off on his fingers. “Don’t go saying Ciar’s name unless she invites you to.”

“I’ve got to call her something. I can’t just say, ‘Hey, you.’ ”

“Best say as little as possible,” Niall said. “But if
you must address the queen, I’ve told you before, use ‘Fearsome Goddess’ or ‘Queen of Nightmares.’ ”

“I thought you were kidding me about the names, but you’re serious, aren’t you?” Rose rolled her eyes. “‘Excuse me, Queen of Nightmares, will you pass the salt?’ Give me a break.”

“Rose,” Niall said, an edge to his voice. “Listen well and do what we say. I assure you ’tis what she’ll expect. We’re trying to keep you out of trouble. I hope you remember I warned you not to come.”

She was certain Michael and Ana were wrong in thinking Niall liked her. Since they’ arrived in Ireland, he’d made it abundantly obvious he didn’t want her there. Michael, on the other hand, had been sweet and helpful. She turned back to Michael and smiled. “Continue with the lesson. I’m all ears.”

“Don’t go touching her unless you’re invited. Never let her set foot on your shadow. She might steal it.” He winked. “And last but not least, darlin’, don’t make her angry.”

“Yeah. I’d better be careful on that last one. I seem to be good at making people angry.” Rose met Niall’s stony expression in the rearview mirror.

“That be all the important things. Remember, if you get her to promise she’ll tell you how to free your people, the advice will be trustworthy. She won’t go breaking a promise.”

The SUV bumped to a halt in a gateway beside a copse of stunted trees draped with lichen.

“This is our way in.” Niall cut the engine.

Rose looked out at the soggy ground. “You told me I needed to dress up, and now you’re going to drag me through that lot to reach the house?”

“Needs must,” he said, and climbed out of the car.

“Stir your stumps. We don’t want to be caught outside when dark falls.”

Rose slid out and wrapped her thin waterproof coat around her shoulders. The heels of her green pumps sank into the mud. “This is ridiculous. Can’t we find the front door and ring the bell or something?” Rose pulled her cell phone from her pocket and held it out. “Call Ciar. Let her know we’re coming so she can make the house visible or what ever she does.”

Niall glared at her. “Do not go saying her name again.”

“Oh, come on—”

“’Tis serious I am, Rose.”

“She can’t hear me out here.”

“The queen has ears everywhere. And that’s a waste of time.” He nodded toward the phone in her hand. “She knew we were here the second we placed foot on Irish soil. She’ll be expecting us. I know me queen, and she’ll have left us some surprises. For that reason, we take the back door.”

“I guess from your tone of voice you mean the unexpected-tax-bill type of surprise rather than the you’ve-won-the-lottery sort.”

Niall unlatched the gate and held it wide for them. “Never you mind, lass. When ’tis time to start worrying, you’ll know.”

Rose stomped through the gate. Niall had made a big fuss about her clothes, but the only concession he’d made to the occasion was to swap his usual mud-brown shirt for a blue one.

Michael, on the other hand, was decked out in black leather pants and a silky red pullover that fit as though they’ been poured on. Jacca had stuck with black jeans, and she wondered if he ever wore anything else.

When they walked through Dublin airport, he’d worn a long coat, dark glasses, and a gray silk fedora, so he resembled a fifties gangster—if you ignored the slight bump on his back from his wings.

Jacca took her arm and helped her negotiate the wet ground. Once they entered the woodland, the track became firmer. They followed a narrow path between the trees for about fifteen minutes.

Dark clouds loomed over the mountaintops, bringing premature night. Jacca took a flashlight from his pocket and snapped it on so she could see the path.

Niall paused at the front, and they grouped behind him. He glanced at the sky and swore beneath his breath. “We could have done with another half hour’s light.”

Michael glanced down at her and pulled an exaggerated sad face. “Don’t go taking any notice of Mr. Doom-and-gloom. ’Tis fine we’ll be.”

Holding a hand out, Michael linked his fingers with hers, then guided her down a slippery incline toward the river.

“Nearly there,” Niall announced.

“To the house?” Rose asked.

“No.” He glanced at her over his shoulder. “To the cave where Lesidhe resides.”

Niall stopped at the bottom of the hill and raised a hand. “Hang on here. I’ll be back in a tick.” He ducked beneath a branch and climbed the slope into the trees.

Rose shuddered at the nip in the air and pressed against the warmth of Michael’s back. Between the stunted trees, she saw Niall stop before a heap of boulders. “Surely no one lives there?”

Michael put his finger to his lips. “Watch,” he whispered.

Niall crouched, and Rose heard the low drone of his voice as he chanted some foreign words. After about thirty seconds, green mist streamed out of the cave like steam from a kettle. The mist formed a column and solidified into a tall, slender man with green skin.

He exchanged a few words with Niall, then drifted wraithlike between the stunted trunks toward them, and emerged onto the path.

He inclined his head toward Michael. “
Seanchai
. ’Tis a pleasure to see you return, keeper of ancient tales. The troop has been without a storyteller since you left.” His gaze flitted over her briefly as though she were of no consequence, then rested on Jacca. “Nightstalker. A visitor to entertain the Fearsome Goddess.”

Niall had walked up behind the green fairy and hooked his thumbs in his pockets while he watched the exchange. “Where’s the gap in the mist, Lesidhe?”

The creature ran his hand down his body. He appeared to be clothed in leaves, or they might have been part of him, like scales.

“You must take the path around the lake to the topiary. ’Tis the east door open today. The dark man will see you in if his mood be sweet.” He turned his strange translucent green eyes onto Rose, and her skin prickled beneath his scrutiny. “I’m thinking he’ll not allow access to the human.”

Rose opened her mouth to tell him she was half fairy, then noticed Niall’s fierce expression.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” Niall bowed to the green man, pulled a small moss-colored stone from his pocket, and held it out. “May the Lord of the Wildwood bless you.”

The creature’s eyes widened. He grasped the stone from Niall’s palm as though it were a gold nugget. “My
thanks to you, friend of the trees.” Then he fractured into tiny green drops and dissolved before her eyes.

Rose gaped at the space where the man had stood, then glanced at the others for their reaction. None of them even appeared surprised.

“The topiary gate’s not too bad,” Michael said.

“Not too bad,” Niall agreed, and ran a hand over his face. “Unless there have been changes since we left.”

“Uh-huh.” Michael glanced at Rose and gave her a tentative smile. “You’re not frightened of animals, darlin’, are you?”

“It depends what sort.”

Jacca’s hand squeezed her shoulder. “Rosenwyn will be safe with me. You find the door, Irish, and get us in.”

Niall’s eyes focused on Jacca’s hand gripping her shoulder and hardened to blue ice. He turned and strode on along the path. Michael took her hand and helped her keep her footing as they hurried after him.

“When you asked if I liked animals, you didn’t just mean animal-shaped bushes, did you?”

“Rose, darlin’, remember what we’ve been telling you. Expect the unexpected.”

Rose shivered. That was what she was afraid of.

They walked for another ten minutes and emerged onto lawns bordering a lake dominated by a fountain jetting water thirty feet into the air.

Niall pointed across the lake toward a group of dark animal shapes silhouetted against the fiery streaks of the setting sun. “The topiary. We’ll skirt the south of the lake.” He glanced at Rose. “Keep an eye out for boggy patches.”

“My whole life’s turned into a boggy patch,” she mumbled.

“Would you like me to carry you?” Jacca asked from behind.

“Thanks for the offer, but—”

“The lass is perfectly capable of walking on her own two feet.” Niall’s imperious tone irritated her. She’d been about to refuse Jacca’s offer herself.

“It would help if we didn’t have to dash along as though we’re in a race.”

“There be no time to dawdle.” Niall marched on without looking around. “Our pace is slower than expected. The light’s nearly gone.”

Rose was fed up with Niall’s implied criticism of her every move. “If it was important to get here in the light, why did you wait until so late to arrive?”

“’Tis only at times of change that we’ll get access: dawn, when night fades to day, or dusk, when the night sweeps down from the mountain and swallows the light.” He glanced back at her, frustration shimmering in his eyes. “Or, at the rate we be walking, midnight when one tick o’ the clock jumps the crack between days. Given the choice, I normally would not be abroad at midnight. Too many dangers waiting to wriggle out of the crack in between and catch the unwary.”

“So I’ve held us up and doomed us all to certain death.” She shook her head. “And I thought Michael was supposed to be the storyteller.”

As her shoes squelched into the boggy ground, reality started to penetrate her carefully constructed illusion of control. Someone hadn’t just moved the goalposts. This was a whole different ball game. And she didn’t know how to play.

When they arrived at the perimeter of the topiary, Niall shone the beam of his miniflashlight up at the
huge, leafy creatures. They towered above the narrow path, sinister and intimidating.

Niall gripped Michael’s shoulder. “Don’t wait for us; go straight through to the east door and call the dark man. If he asks what we be wanting, keep your request simple—an audience with the queen.” Niall patted Michael on the back of the head. “Take care, Mick.”