An Immortal Descent (27 page)

With Wexford and the vast sea to our backs, pastureland stretched for several furlongs in front of us, dotted with sheep and a handful of thatched cottages. Beyond this, I spied the gentle rise of hills where the grass-covered fields came to an abrupt end at the edge of a dense forest.

The dirt road was near empty other than the occasional shepherd, affording the necessary privacy for me to give Henry a full recounting of my adventures. This time, I began with the first inn where James and I had stopped to have my horse reshod.

Henry cursed under his breath on several occasions, though the most violent reaction came when I related my kidnapping and Calhoun’s plan to profit from my gift. I purposefully left out the part about Ailish attacking me onboard the
Sea Witch
to avoid any hard feelings toward the girl, instead attributing the aggression to Calhoun.

Upon hearing the slight modification of facts, Ailish found the courage to extract her face from Henry’s greatcoat and turn toward me. Resting her cheek on his back, she gave me a grateful look, and even added bits and pieces to my account of Calhoun’s ultimate downfall.

Once we finished, Henry whistled softly under his breath, and I marveled at how well he had accepted our story. Six months ago, he wouldn’t have believed a word of it. Then again, neither would have I.

Another road crossed our course, offering an alternate route through open pastureland for those travelers who wished to avoid the wooded hills straight ahead. We continued forward, our destination somewhere within the forest rather than around it.

“Are you sure Calhoun is dead?” Henry asked after a moment.

“Yes—” I started.

“He’s not dead, milord,” Ailish interrupted, “but has the life of a rock.”

Henry shot me a quizzical look.

“Don’t bother arguing,” I laughed. “Just suffice it to say that he won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Rocks aren’t wont to walk without help,” Ailish agreed. While we rode, her grip on Henry remained tight enough to turn her knuckles white. Even so, a dreamy smile had found its way to her lips, in proof that she wasn’t finding the experience entirely unpleasant.

“I’ll take your word for it, Miss O’Bearra,” Henry said. “As for you, Selah, you shall never leave my side again.”

I scoffed. “Well, that’s hardly practical, unless you intend to tie me to you for the rest of our lives.”

“An ingenious idea,” Henry said. “Glad you thought of it.”

Ailish scrunched her nose in thought. “You needn’t worry for Selah, milord. She’s plenty o’ fire to keep safe. And Cailleach’s blood be loath to touch her for fear o’ the same in return.”

The compliment soothed my pride, and I lifted my chin a fraction of an inch. “Thank you, Ailish. It’s good to know that
someone
thinks me capable.”

She breathed a dreamy sigh. “Though most ladies wouldn’t mind being tied to you, milord,” she continued, her eyes glazing slightly.

“Ailish!” I cried. “No one is being tied to anyone else.”

A deep chuckle rose up from Henry’s chest. “More’s the pity, if you ask me.”

I laughed despite myself. “You both should blush for shame, except in your case, Henry, I fear it would be easier to coax a stone to sprout legs.”

He tipped his head, smirking. “I’ve never blushed in my life, nor do I intend to start now.”

A sassy retort shriveled on my tongue as we passed the first sapling oaks at the edge of the woods. The air changed at that moment, and the skin tingled to my hairline. With a shiver, I clutched my cloak with one hand and peered into the forest. Nothing moved, or appeared out of the ordinary to blame for the odd sensation.

Thickening undergrowth and trees soon crowded together. The road had narrowed significantly into something closer to a forest path, and rather than running directly over the hilltop, it veered to the left for a more gradual incline. Urging my horse forward, I noticed Ailish sat straighter behind Henry, her grip loosening somewhat on his sides.

Keen interest lit her face. “Do you feel it?” She tilted her nose upward to inhale a deep breath of the forest air. “These woods be ancient.”

A morbid thought struck me that Ailish might be relishing the scent of death. I would have asked outright if we were alone, but I didn’t dare remind Henry of her particular goddess blood and risk a discussion of her subsequent gift.

Henry surveyed every inch of the woods ahead of us. From the tight set of his mouth, he didn’t like what he saw.

I shifted slightly in the saddle. “Is everything all right?” Even speaking softly, my voice seemed to echo amongst the trees.

He turned to me, and I started from the vivid green of his eyes, as though the irises had somehow caught fire.

“Your...your eyes...”

He blinked several times. “What’s wrong with them?”

The color had returned to the usual earthy green, flecked with gold. Dumbstruck, I stared at him in silence, searching for any trace of the previous color.

“Is something the matter?” he asked.

In truth I didn’t know, for either I had suffered a hallucination or Henry had been temporarily altered. Neither option proved comforting, though any further discussion would need to wait until we were alone. “The trees are playing tricks with the light,” I said instead.

Henry nodded, accepting my answer. “Miss O’Bearra’s right about these woods. They have a strange feel to them, though I think there’s more to it than their being ancient.”

“What do you mean?”

He considered before answering. “I don’t know exactly, except a strong sense that there’s more here than meets the eyes.”

Ailish exhaled another breath. “Be thankful for that, milord, for there’s things about not meant for our seeing.”

Henry chuckled darkly. I remained silent, the skin tingling once more over the backs of my hands, as though to confirm that she had indeed spoken the truth.

Cresting the side of the hill, the path dipped downward into a slight vale where it continued on flat ground along a meandering streambed. We followed this, keeping to our own thoughts, when we reached the charred remains of a hollowed-out tree trunk.

“This must be it,” I said.

The answer came a few yards later with the appearance of a narrow trail that branched off from the main path over the streambed. Henry went ahead, guiding the stallion over the moss-covered rocks through the shallow water. At the first tentative step, Ailish again buried her face into his greatcoat. I followed behind, one hand tight on the cantle to keep from pitching forward if the mare lost her footing on the slippery surface. Safely across, I reined alongside Henry.

“We be close now,” Ailish said, turning to look at me. Excitement pinked her usually pale cheeks.

“You seem rather anxious to meet Deri’s stepmother.”

“Her da be known amongst me kind afore she killed him, so I’ve a keen interest to see the widow.”

Henry tensed visibly. “You should have told me we were meeting more of Cailleach’s descendants.”

Ailish didn’t hesitate. “Don’t know what she be for certain, milord, other than a widow.”

Henry looked at me, and for a moment I feared he would try to order me back to town. No doubt seeing the futility of such a demand, he settled instead for an irritated sigh.

“Let’s get this over with.” He urged his horse into the lead position, and we started single file along the trail.

Other than a handful of evergreens, the trees were mostly stripped of their foliage. Wind blew overhead, rattling the skeletal branches and any remaining leaves. On occasion, a gust would dip lower, but for the most part we remained sheltered between the two hills. Mist gathered on the undergrowth and around tree trunks in ethereal forms that tricked the eye and dampened my cheeks. I glanced up at the overcast sky, thankful for any extra daylight as we threaded our way deeper into the woods.

It didn’t take long before I caught the first hint of wood smoke over the scents of leaf mold and damp earth. The smell grew stronger as we curved around the base of one hill, and a thatched-roof cottage soon came into view, nestled in a clearing.

A dog barked at our approach. Running to meet us, the sleek brown beast stayed just ahead of the horses while maintaining a steady stream of noise. With such an effective herald, by the time we reached the front garden, a woman was already waiting on the porch. A sharp whistle silenced the dog’s barking, and it went immediately to her side like a four-legged soldier.

Waves of fierce red hair framed her pale round face, as though fire had taken solid form in the curly strands. A green-and-brown plaid shawl covered her shoulders, crisscrossed over the front of what appeared to be a plain black woolen gown.

The woman remained still as a statue as she watched Henry lower Ailish to the ground. He dropped down next with a soft thud, then helped me from the saddle onto a patch of grass. His hands stayed on my waist while I found my footing. But when I tried to move forward, his grip remained steadfast, keeping me in place.

I glanced up to find him staring over my shoulder into the woods. “What is it?”

He didn’t respond or show the slightest impression that he had even heard me.

“What are you looking at?” I asked, this time a bit louder.

His gaze settled on my face. “Nothing...nothing at all.” Dropping his hands, he turned toward the cottage.

Ailish was the first to approach the woman.
“Dia duit,”
she said in greeting.
God to you.

A bright red brow curved upward as light gray eyes moved over Ailish and me before coming to rest on Henry. “You’re far from home, Englishman.” Though I was relieved she spoke English, I didn’t appreciate her forward tone, nor how brazenly she grazed him from head to toe. “Could be you’ve returned just.”

Her wording struck me as odd, and I gave her a quizzical look. How could a man be both far from home and have just returned at the same time? It didn’t make any sense, which left me to believe that something had gone awry in her translation from Gaelic.

“This is my first time in Ireland,” Henry replied, all well-mannered politeness.

“Is that so?” The corners of her mouth curled up. “And do you like what you be seeing?”

Henry seemed unfazed by her blatant flirtations. “I have only Wexford and these woods to go by, but it’s a beautiful land from what little I’ve seen so far.”

Her smile curved a bit more. “We’ve more than land, you know.” Sultry invitation filled her voice. Frowning, I reached for Henry’s hand, lacing our fingers together.

The woman laughed. “Don’t fuss yourself, lass.” She rested her palm atop the crisscrossed shawl, molding the material over what I now noticed to be a well-rounded belly, heavy with child. “Handsome gentlemen don’t often wander into me yard. You’re not so stingy to begrudge me a wee bit o’ fun, are you?”

My cheeks warmed, and I opened my mouth to respond, when she waved a hand to dismiss the question. “Never mind. I can see that you are. So tell me, what have you come for if not to let me tease with your man?”

Ailish cleared her throat. “We be looking for the widow o’ Master Roddy Byrne.”

The smile tightened to a straight line on the woman’s mouth. “And what do you want with his widow, eh?”

“We’re searching for his girl Deri. Thought the widow might know where—”

A black rage appeared like a sudden storm over the woman’s face. “Hold your tongue!” She fisted a hand on her belly just as a sharp wind swept through the garden, whipping my hood back. All around us, the air crackled with what felt like the beginning of a lightning charge.

I shivered as the small hairs stood at attention across every square inch of my body.
What’s happening...

The dog whimpered and inched back toward the cottage, tail between its hind legs. Henry’s arm encircled my waist, and he pulled me protectively to his side. I darted a worried look at him, only to find him staring over my head into the woods again instead of the goings-on in our immediate surroundings.

An angry cry burst from the woman. Her nostrils flared, and she spat on the ground near our feet. “Don’t you be speaking that devil’s name in me presence.”

Another blast of wind grabbed at my cloak. I clutched the edges to keep it from blowing open, grateful for the partial shelter offered by Henry’s large body. Without the same protection, Ailish’s cape flapped wildly behind her. High overhead, a thick branch succumbed to the pressure, snapping from the tree and crashing to the ground not ten steps from us. The horses whinnied and tramped their hooves.

Open challenge emanated from the woman’s hostile stare, which had darkened to cold, hard granite.

Ailish stood her ground, resembling an unworldly creature with wisps of hair blowing free around her face. “You’ve a rare gift, sister mine.” She spoke so softly I almost missed it over the wind.

The woman didn’t reply right away, but narrowed her eyes on Ailish. Several long seconds passed before the rage began to calm in her face. “Sister, you say?”

“Oh, for certain.” Ailish drew a long breath through her nose. “You’re a strong one. I can smell Cailleach’s blood from here.”

I heaved an inward sigh at the revelation.

Henry didn’t say a thing, nor did he give any indication of even hearing their exchange. While they spoke of Cailleach and being long-lost sisters, his concentration remained fixed on the surrounding woods. Frustrated by the distraction, I started to dig an elbow into his side to help break the spell. At the last moment, I thought otherwise, that the preoccupation might be useful if it kept him from overreacting, or on the chance he’d actually caught sight of something slinking about. For all I knew, another hound could be on the prowl, though Ailish would have probably smelled it by now.

The small porch creaked as the woman relaxed her stance. The previous rage had cleared from her face. The smile hadn’t returned though, and a spark of suspicion still lit her eyes. “What’s your father’s name?” she asked Ailish. “And don’t try fibbing. I know all Cailleach’s kin south o’ Dublin.”

Ailish bobbed a shallow curtsey. “Miss Ailish O’Bearra, at your service.”