Standing on the edge of the placid lake, Annabelle breathed deeply, the carbon monoxide-free oxygen almost an assault on her lungs. The air was still, and the sun miraculously shone down on the vividly green hills that ringed the body of water. She’d only been traveling with the Minnehan crew for a week and a half, but she well knew a moment in pure, undiluted sunshine was not to be wasted. If the weather doesn’t kill me, she thought—and then stopped thinking as a perfectly formed daisy was tucked behind her ear.
Annabelle linked hands with Jamie and kissed him ‘thank you’ for the flower. She squeezed his hand, and they moved along the path toward a private spot around the bend.
“It is completely gorgeous here,” she said, taking in the beautiful vista of blossomed trees and fiery yellow furze bushes. “Hey! We should have brought a picnic!” She glanced up at him, feeling naughty. “Or at least a wee blanket? See that little place up ahead off in the trees?” And she leaned up and whispered a plan into his ear that she wished she’d thought of an hour ago.
Jamie stiffened, and put a restraining hand on her arm.
“Not getting all prim on me, are ya?” She leaned back and glared at him.
He nodded toward a clump of trees ahead, and she turned to look. “Come on out of there, Maeve,” he called. “Sure, I can see ya plain as day.”
Maeve emerged out of a thin stand of birches, her right hand in the pocket of her anorak.
“Howaya,” she grunted, as if lurking about in a grove of trees was a work-a-day affair.
“Oh, it’s you, is it?” Annabelle arched a brow. “Well, it would be, wouldn’t it?”
Jamie stared at Annabelle. “You’ve met?”
“Don’t ask.” She put her hands on her hips and turned to Maeve. “So? It’s all right, then?”
“Don’t take that tone with me, chicken.” Maeve stood as tall as she was able, which wasn’t very.
“Did she make it?” Annabelle demanded. They’d emptied that suitcase as soon as they’d gotten to Dollymount, to find—nothing out of the ordinary. Not taking any chances, Annabelle left the thing out on the back step that first night, and in the morning, the case was gone. Jamie freaked out, but she just shrugged it off. It was par for the course, in fairness. “Is Callie safe?” Annabelle peered down at Maeve, whose black hair had been cut to a far less otherworldly length. Minus the billowing cloak, she looked the way anyone’s auntie might look.
“Everything’s grand. You did well.” Maeve went on sternly. “Although you certainly cut it close. But you showed good sense, leaving that case alone. I might be able to get it back for ya. Can’t vouch for the state it’ll be in.”
“No, you’re all right.” Annabelle shuddered to think. “And the stone thingy?”
Maeve cocked her head at Annabelle and smiled coyly. “So, you’d like to have a wee look at the marriage stone of the Queen of the Ban Sí?”
After weeks dealing with a Celtic mythological supernatural being, Annabelle was not about to be intimidated by somebody’s auntie. “Is there a circle nearby, or a fairy fort? I hadn’t noticed.”
Maeve withdrew her hand from her pocket.
In her palm sat a small stone.
Jamie and Annabelle looked at it.
“That’s it?! After all that!” Annabelle could not believe it.
Maeve shoved her hand under Annabelle’s nose. “Look. See what you can see.”
Annabelle saw that there were infinitesimal cracks running over the tiny chunk of limestone, an incalculable number of fractures that traced all around the surface. As she continued to gaze at it, she sensed the number of shards the piece had broken into was bordering on the infinite, and the idea that her Pooka had been the last one, the very last one? She couldn’t get her head around it.
“May I?” And Maeve nodded, flattening her palm further as Annabelle ran a finger over the top of the stone.
A great gust of wind blew up around them, and a sound very like the humming chime that the hazelnut had made at Annabelle’s touch swirled around them. The wind blew and blew, and the sound rose and rose, and the sunlight, already bright and hot, shot in sparks off the now churning lake. Jamie grabbed Annabelle’s arm, and she laughed with joy, as a crescendo of sound and air and light built and built and built—
And stopped as suddenly as it begun.
“So, well done, missus, and keep that nephew of mine on the straight and narrow.” Maeve casually flipped the stone into the lake and headed away down the path.
She turned back and winked at Jamie and Annabelle. “Sure, it was only an aul’ rock.” She sauntered off, whistling, leaving them to stare down into the water.
“She’s really all right, once you get to know her,” Annabelle mused, and moved to follow her down the path.
“But—but—the stone—it was—is it—that was magic, like!” Jamie was apoplectic; Annabelle linked her arm through his, and patted his hand.
“Magic isn’t magic,” she soothed, and led him away from the lake.
“What the feck is that supposed to mean?”
Annabelle sighed. “Let me try to explain, but it may take a while. Years, maybe.”
She grinned up at him and he kissed her on the tip of her nose. Making sure the daisy was safe and sound, he said, “I’m listening…”
THE END