CHAPTER TWENTY

 

TRESSA

Matt dropped Holly and Trayce off at their apartment before heading back to the estate. He walked her up to the building door. Even through the fog in my brain, I recognized that Holly was in a bad state. Matt hugged her and she melted into him, laying her head on his chest and weeping. He made soothing noises as he held her and tenderly stroked her hair.

He glanced back at the car, holding up a finger to signal he would be a minute before taking the handle of Trayce's seat out of her hand. Holly leaned on him as he helped her up the stairs to her apartment.

I expected him to insist she come with us until the realization hit: he thought she was safer away from me, or maybe just away from the fae in general. I stared out the side window as he got back in the car and drove us home, watching the town whizz by as I thought about this.

He was right to worry. I had been a target all my life; Deaglan Mór and his Unseelie kinsman had been after me since the minute I was born. His plan was to burn me at the stake, much like he had torched Kyla's village. People had died at his hand for no greater reason than for standing too close to me when he attacked. I shook these ugly thoughts out of my head as Matt pulled up to the Manor House.

"Why don't you take a quick shower and put on some clean clothes?" Neve suggested as we climbed the steps to the porch together. "Then you should try to eat something. I could send up a tray if you don't feel like coming back down."

"I'm not hungry."

When we entered the house, I stopped in the foyer and listened for the sound of voices to tell me which direction I wanted to go. I heard noise coming from the kitchen and headed that way.

"Tressa?" Neve called after me.

"I need to see Sophia. I need to make sure she's okay."

"Aye, but your dress is a mess. It will only upset her."

I didn't plan to let her see the bloodstained dress again; however I had an ache in my chest that insisted I check that she was unharmed. I peeked in from the hallway. A feast lay on platters covered in clear plastic wrap: steak, salmon and chicken breast with side dishes, appetizers and desserts: a sampling of everything Keelin had planned for our reception. Sophia sat at the island, already in her pajamas, with a large plate of food before her. Keelin sat next to her, stroking her hair.

"How are you doing, my sweet?" Keelin asked.

"I'm very sad."

"Aye, sweetheart, we'll all be sad for a while. But remember that we all love you and you can talk to any of us about Mr. Gobban whenever you like."

"Keelin has Sophia well in hand. Go take care of yourself now," Neve whispered. Content that Sophia was okay, I retreated down the hallway to do as she said.

 

I slipped into the shower, grateful to be in a place that isolated me from the rest of the household. I knew they would hover around me, trying to make things better, which was the last thing I wanted at that moment.

My weeping had stopped on the ride home, morphing into a quiet sadness that permeated my body and made my movements slow and lethargic. I leaned against the shower wall, closing my eyes and letting the water beat down on me, but I couldn't shake the image of Gobban's blood spreading over my wedding dress.

I grabbed a washcloth and began scrubbing, starting with my face. I lathered soap onto the cloth and rubbed off my makeup until my skin was raw. After holding my head under the water and letting the soap run down my body, I washed my neck and continued with the same pattern all the way down to my toes. My skin glowed red from the vigor with which I scrubbed it. Then I shampooed my hair and rinsed away the last remains of the day.

I slipped into a fresh t-shirt and, on impulse, pulled on a pair of Alexander's sweats. They were soft, roomy and warm. I wound my wet hair into a sloppy bun at the nape of my neck and wrapped an elastic around it to keep it out of my way. I lay on my bed and curled into a ball, simply breathing and staring at the door while I waited for my husband to come home.

 

The room was dark when he arrived. He flipped on the light switch and leaned against the doorframe. We gazed at each other for a minute. He had discarded his tuxedo jacket somewhere along the way. The top couple of buttons of his crisp white shirt were undone, and his bow tie hung loose around his neck. His eyes raked over me, as mine did him.

"You're a sight for sore eyes, Mrs. Mannus," he said. His rich, throaty voice washed over me like a balm soothing my agitated skin, and I managed a smile.

He kicked off his patent leather shoes, now scuffed and dirty, and crawled into the bed behind me. He curled his body to spoon mine and held me close against him. The warmth of our bodies next to each other thawed any lingering chill in my bones.

"Even now, we fit together like we were made for each other," he said.

I rolled around to face him. He slackened his grip just enough for me to move. His dark chocolate eyes gazed into mine with such love that it created a hitch in my breath.

"We were made for each other. Never forget it."

"Yes ma'am," he said with a grin as he brushed a few stray strands of hair off my face. Then his smile faded away. "We lost the guy. Never had him, really."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

"My only consolation is that I'm sure now that he isn't after you."

"Small comfort for the Leprechauns."

"I don't mean to sound callous, but you're my main concern. Always." He kissed my forehead. "I'm sorry this day didn't turn out as planned, and I'm sorry about Gobban. I promise to find out who did this."

 

The whisper of muffled voices woke me from a light slumber. Shamus and Alexander were by the sitting area, speaking in hushed tones. The first thought that came to my frazzled brain was that something new had happened. Why they were keeping it from me?

"What's wrong?" I asked, tension sharpening my words.

"Everything's okay, sweetheart." Alexander wrinkled his brow, alarmed by my reaction. "We were trying not to wake you."

"I brought you some food, My Lady," Shamus said, gesturing to a tray on the table in front of them. "And I wanted to congratulate you on your marriage. I'm sorry I couldn't be there, but someone had to stay behind to mind the camp."

"Oh my god! The camp!" I jumped up and rummaged through a dresser drawer for a warm pair of socks. "I have to get over there."

"No, you don't," Shamus said. I ignored him and picked out a thick pair of thermal socks. I sat on the edge of the bed to put them on, but Alexander sat down next to me and grabbed my hands.

"Tressa, slow down. Hear what Shamus has to tell us." My heart raced, and I took a deep breath to calm it down.

"Aye, of course. I'm sorry, Shamus."

"The morning is soon enough for you to check on them. The cold medicine you gave them is helping; I've already sent a few back to Faery who had improved enough to travel. A few of them didn't react as well to the medicine, but there's nothing else you can do for them right now. Sharing your essence isn't helping them, it's only hurting you. Without the pozen seeds, we must wait until the humidity goes back to a normal level."

"It wouldn't hurt to go look," I said. Shamus pressed his lips together and shook his head.

"We built a few campfires around the outside of the tent." I recoiled, moving further back on the bed. "It was the best way to dry out their clothes and the furniture, and it made brewing tea easier," he said by way of explanation. The caretakers have strict instructions to let them burn through the night, to keep everyone warm, and to douse them in the morning."

 

The tray of food Shamus brought us went uneaten. In the early morning hours, when Alexander and I found our appetite, the food looked stale and unappealing. We padded downstairs instead to find something to hold us over until breakfast. The quietness of the house led us to assume everyone else was still asleep. However, at the bottom of the stairway Alexander pointed to a glow coming from under the study door. Curious, we changed direction to see who else was awake at that hour.

Neve sat at the big wooden desk, wearing her bedclothes and scribbling on some paper. She looked up when we entered the room.

"I hope I didn't wake you. I came here looking for paper and a pencil."

"No, our grumbling stomachs woke us. What did you need pen and paper for at this time of night?" Alexander asked, stifling a yawn.

"I left my sketchpad at home."

We stood over her shoulder and studied the drawing she was working on. A cloud of smoke billowed from a campfire and spun in a tornado-shaped funnel. Various items swirled in the funnel: a Leprechaun looking terrified as he twisted out of control and a cauldron, beautifully ornamented with gold leaf but cracked and chipped. It flew upside-down, a few coins trickling out of its mouth. Deaglan Mór's face was there as well, contorted with hate and anger. The overall effect was shadowy and sinister.

"You've had a dream," I said, remembering that she drew pictures of her dark premonitions to help get the horror of them out of her head. "What does it mean?"

She let out a huff of air and closed her eyes, as if bracing herself to retell what she knew. Alexander took her hand and led her to sit more comfortably on the sofa, skirting around the remnants of Rosheen's sewing frenzy. Neve's gaze swept from Alexander to me as she shook her head sadly.

"Deaglan continues to wreak havoc in the Otherworld, forcing conversions and burning villages." I shuddered, imagining homes, shops and entire towns engulfed in flames. I grabbed Alexander's hand, knowing his touch would calm me as she continued.

"The rage in him is explosive. It was he who ordered the attacks on the Leprechauns. He hired someone to go into the human world after them. He will soon get the news that Gobban is dead. His anger with the Leprechauns has something to do with the Dagda's Cauldron… I think Gobban gave it to him, but it's not working the way it should. He knows time is running out, and he's planning to do something desperate to get what he wants. I didn't see what the plan entailed or what he's trying to get, unfortunately. That's all I know, and all in all it doesn't tell us much."

"It tells us who was behind Gobban's murder, not that it's a surprise," said Alexander. "But we still need to find the assassin before he kills anyone else." I stared at the drawing of the cauldron, remembering Gobban's cryptic answer when I had questioned him about it.

"It's all a big deception," I said, working out my thoughts as I spoke.

"What is?" They looked at me, confused.

"Deaglan never had the Dagda's Cauldron. He thought he did at first, but he actually has Gobban's cauldron. It looks like the real one, but it's an illusion. It serves his purpose to let everyone think he found the third Sidhe Treasure. The Dagda's Cauldron is still out there somewhere."

They both stared at me as my words registered. Gobban had been the wealthiest Leprechaun in Faery; what with all that wealth stored in his cauldron—his metaphoric pot of gold—it would be easy for Deaglan Mór to convince everyone he had the Undry. However, his fortune wasn't infinite. Eventually it would run out, unmasking the truth.

"Do you have any sense at all about his plan? Is it to do with the cauldron? Could it have something to do with the recruits he's been gathering?"

Neve looked out into space, replaying the dream once again. She shook her head.

"Nothing. The whole thing was a swirling of dark, smoldering emotion."

"Okay. We said we would return to the Otherworld after the wedding. It might as well be now," Alexander said.

"I can't abandon the sick at the camp. Too many things could go wrong; in the worst case, they could die. Now that the rain has stopped, we should be able to get them healthy enough to travel." Alexander nodded, though it was clear that his thoughts were somewhere else.

"I'll use the time to track down this assassin. Next time Mór might send him after you."

"We should send a message to your uncle and let him know about the fake cauldron. He needs to know that Deaglan is up to something big," Neve said. My mind went to the Pixies, who often carried messages for us.

"I'll send Brenna and Kerry. They can explain our delay and pass on the information in your premonition."