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“I would like to propose a toast.” Bones held up a bottle of Irish whiskey. “To badass women and the men who rely on them.”
“Cheers.” Orla raised her glass. James and Maddock followed suit.
They were lounging in Maddock and Bones’ suite at Clontarf Castle. The three men were battered and bruised. Only Orla had escaped without injury.
“I still can’t believe you are a Guardian,” Maddock said.
“I can’t believe you have even heard of us, much less fought alongside us in the past,” Orla said.
“What about that story you told us, that you were into protecting history and nature?” Bones asked.
“I do those things, and my family helps me.”
“The tour guides you call your family, are they all guardians?” Bones asked.
“Not at all. But they are useful. They provide me with access to places I would otherwise have to infiltrate on my own. And they occasionally turn up useful historical documents and artifacts, or stumble across bits of arcane knowledge that are best kept hidden.”
Something had been bothering Maddock.
“Last time I encountered Guardians, I couldn’t see the effects of their power unless I was wearing a particular talisman. But I could see you flinging balls of light at the dragon.”
“The oversimplified answer is you’re becoming more sensitive to certain energy wavelengths. Have you handled a lot of artifacts the layperson might consider ‘magical’?”
“I have. And speaking of, what are you going to do with that?” Maddock pointed to the Bachal Isu, which stood propped in the corner.
“Keep it safe until we need it again. Cailleach isn’t the only Irish dragon.”
“Your life is weird,” Bones said.
“It is what it is.” Orla sipped her whiskey. “I would like to meet your friends Lou and Chan. We Guardians stick to our own territories, so we rarely connect with others. It’s as if we all live in silos.”
“With all the problems in the world, it might be a good idea if we all worked together,” James said.
“You are not a guardian yet,” Orla said.
“Thanks for reminding me... again.”
There was a knock at the door. It was Doyle. The Garda cast a nervous glance at Orla.
“Mind if I come in?”
“Suit yourself, but don’t get too comfortable.”
Doyle stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He looked at each of them in turn as he spoke.
“I wanted to thank you all and apologize for the way I treated you. I’m a single-minded person and sometimes I can be...”
“An arschgiege?” Bones offered.
“What is that?”
“It’s German for ‘ass violin.’ Calling someone ‘asshat’ and ‘assclown’ gets old after a while.”
“Yes, I can certainly be a... whatever you said.”
“What’s the update on Walsh and Michelle?” Maddock asked.
“Walsh answered a few questions before she demanded to speak with her solicitor. She’s got one of the best in Dublin. I figure the Tuatha are paying for it under the table, but I can’t prove it.”
“I wonder why she dressed up like Lark,” Bones said.
“She chose to hide her identity while among the Tuatha. She selected that particular look because she was in love with Lark. Apparently the woman disappeared and it broke Walsh.” Doyle let out a tired groan. “Michelle’s fate will be determined by the prosecutor. She insists she only meant to frighten Wainwright away from her grandmother. She snatched a book out of his hands, he made a grab for it, but lost his balance and fell into her. I’m inclined to believe her. But without witnesses, and considering her clean record, she will probably plead to a lesser charge. Involuntary manslaughter, most likely. I’m sorry. I know you want justice for your friend.”
“I knew Wainwright fairly well, and I don’t believe he would want the book thrown at her, no pun intended,” Maddock said.
“Glad to hear it.” Doyle looked around nervously. “Could I speak with you and Bonebrake privately?”
“We don’t have any secrets from these two,” Bones said.
“It’s not that.” Doyle swallowed hard.
“He’s afraid I’m going to send him to purgatory for what he did to my brother,” Orla said. “Or maybe to Wales.”
Doyle blanched. “I really do need to make amends.”
“You can do that by keeping us apprised on the actions of the Servati,” Orla said. “Any time they get up to something unusual, I want to hear about it.”
“And I would like my parking tickets expunged,” James said. “All of them.”
“That I can’t promise, but I will see what I can do.”
“What is it you wanted to talk to us about?” Maddock said.
“It’s actually about the Servati. I found this old map in our library. It was hidden beneath the cover of a very old book. I know the two of you are treasure hunters so I thought you might be interested.”
He opened a leather satchel, took out a rolled paper, and spread it out on the desk in the corner of the room. They all gathered around as Maddock and Bones gave the map a close examination.
The paper was old and brittle, the lines faded, but Maddock knew exactly what it was. So did Bones.
“Are you freaking kidding me?” Bones said.
“It looks like the real McCoy,” Maddock said.
Doyle smiled. “I take it my instincts were correct?”
“We know exactly what this is,” Maddock said. “I just can’t believe the map survived.” He shook his head. “What can we do to help you with it?”
“I have a job to do, and with Walsh incarcerated, my caseload has only gotten heavier. And I need to remain above suspicion among the Servati. But if the two of you would like to pursue this, I only ask that you keep me in the loop. And maybe cut me in on any treasure you find?” He grinned.
“You’ve got a deal.” Bones shook hands with Doyle. “Maybe you’re not an arschgiege after all.”
Michael Doyle could barely contain his excitement as he left Clontarf Castle. Things could not have gone better. For all their annoying personality traits, Maddock and Bonebrake were capable and relentless. And the digging he had done suggested that if anyone could solve the riddle, it was them.
When he reached his car, he locked the doors and looked around to make sure no one was nearby. Satisfied there were no spies about, he took out his phone and tapped in a number he knew by heart. It rang three times before the party on the other end picked up.
“Yes?”
“Elder, it is done,” Doyle said.
“They took the bait?” The Elder sounded pleased.
“Hook, line and sinker.” Doyle laughed. “Those two idiots are now working for the Servati, and they have no idea.”
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If you enjoyed Emerald Dragon, try Arena of Souls- A Brock Stone Adventure
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In 1931, an assassin's bullet nearly claims Brock Stone's life on the day he returns to claim his inheritance. Inside his grandfather's secret library, Stone finds a map to a lost island in the center of the Bermuda Triangle! Joined by his sometimes girlfriend, investigative reporter Trinity Page, and childhood friends, mechanical genius Alex English and ex-boxer Moses Gibbs, Stone embarks on a rollicking adventure sure to thrill fans of Indiana Jones, Dane Maddock, and The Rocketeer!
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