The Witches of Merribay (The Seaforth Chronicles Book 1) Page 7

  “Well, he was old. He had worn-down shoes, a bowler cap, old clothes, and…silver eyes.”

  Ian stopped wheeling his chair, his face stern and frowning. “That would be”—he lowered his voice to a whisper—“Izaill.” He looked over both shoulders then. “You must tell Izadora this. He is wicked to the core. Bad, bad news. I cannot stress that enough.” He wheeled his chair forward. I continued to walk next to him.

  “Okay,” I said.

  I probably should have mentioned that I'd seen the old man, Izaill, right away. In my defense, over the course of the day, I had convinced myself that I had been imagining the cold air and the wicked smile of the old man—and the silver eyes. Sometimes we humans have a way of telling ourselves that we didn't really see what we saw, for the fact that it just didn't fit into our tiny little shoe-box worlds. For that reason, I had tried to block the thoughts out.

  “To answer your question about wards: Wards allow the good in and keep the bad out. A ward can be numerous things, such as a certain tree or charm that's been blessed or enchanted, a red-braided rope—there can be many things. A spirit…a bird…whatever.”

  “What ward do you have?”

  “Wards. I have wards.” He glanced at me. “I have holly trees planted at the gate, in case you haven't noticed. Holly trees are one of the trees connected to the fairies. It's a protective tree. I also have, um…a spirit.” He wheeled ahead of me.

  “A spirit? Really?”

  “Yes, really. I speak only the truth.”

  We'd reached the “dark path of death.” I had named it that for being so unlike the rest of the garden. The old rowan trees’ spindly branches scratched me as I walked by. “Why don't you get rid of that rowan? I think it's dead.” I fell behind him as the path narrowed.

  He spoke loudly over his shoulder. “It is not dead, it's just old. And you never, never fell a rowan tree. It's also connected to the fairies. It would be inglorious bad luck to fell that tree.”

  This was the second time that he'd mentioned fairies. I suppose if there were such things as witches, then why not fairies? Even my GG Edmund used to talk about fairies in the garden. I thought I'd seen one once, flitting from flower to flower, almost like a butterfly, but it was a white light. Again, I'd blocked that from memory. It hadn't fit inside my shoebox for long.

  “And we also have the Fae. They are human-sized, some even taller. We call them the Regal Folk, the Good Folk, the Wise Ones.”

  Now he was trying to fill me with bull, for sure. “Fairies and Fae? Or rather, Regal Folk? C'mon, Ian. For real?”

  “Yes, for real. Miss Seaforth, I never lie. Take my word for it, they exist. There are the good ones, and the bad ones. Kind of like how humans are, in a way. The bad are Unseelie. The good are the Seelie.”

  “Well, what's the difference between fairies and Fae then?”

  “Fairies are here for nature. They help things grow. The Fae are like cousins—they also tend to nature, but not so much. They have other business to attend. They also watch over the fairies.”

  “Okay…if you say so,” I said.

  We had arrived at the gate, and he told me to try and open it. I lifted the latch and pulled. He was telling the truth; I couldn't get it to move.

  He smiled. “Told you so.”

  “Okay, I believe you,” I said.

  “You should believe everything I say. I'm quite knowledgeable in many areas.” He wheeled forward and lifted the latch and pulled, while wheeling backward. “See you in a while. If I happen to not be here, Drumm can open the gate.”

  “So, Drumm is allowed to open the gate? But not me?”

  “In time, Miss Seaforth. In time.” He motioned for me to walk out, shutting the gate behind me. “Have fun.”

  I looked back to see him he pull out a cigar, cut the end, and light it. Apparently he would wait for me.

  I walked on for a few moments, and when I didn't see Drumm, I wondered if something had happened to him. Had the old man, Izaill, done something to him?

  Finally, I spotted him walking toward me.

  “Hello,” I said when we met.

  He nodded his head once for a reply.

  Immediately, I brought up the subject of the old man. “That old man. Ian called him Izaill—”

  “Shhhh. Don't say his name too loud.” Drumm scolded me. “He's taken care of for now. I have already informed Izadora of his presence. She is taking care of it as we speak.”

  “What do you mean, ‘taking care of it’?”

  “She's sending him a message. He won't bother you again—at least he shouldn't.”

  “But he freaked me out and Ian said he was dangerous!” I squealed.

  “No harm will come to you, from the likes of him.”

  He stood with his thumbs in his pockets. On his back hung the satchel with the bow and arrows. His turquoise, large almond-shaped eyes were way too pretty. For some reason, I had really begun to like this boy of few words. Definitely not in a flirty way, but more of a friendly way. At least that's what I told myself. I decided to trust him. If he said no harm would come to me, then I believed him.

  “Ready to run?” he asked.

  “Sure.” My legs had already begun to tingle with energy.

  He sped off, and I chased after him through the dark forest that smelled of pine.

  After running for a half hour or so, he slowed. My legs felt better already. I sped up to run next to him.

  “Will you be able to enter Magella's boat tonight?” He talked with ease, not even slightly winded from running.

  “I'm all set to stay at my aunt’s café. I should be able to complete the mission,” I said, a bit winded from the speeds we had been going.

  “You nervous?”

  I thought about it, and, yes, I was nervous. Nervous as heck. But I wouldn't admit it to him. “Nah. I'll be fine.”

  “Good, then. I wish I could go with you, but I cannot.”

  “I'll be fine,” I said a final time.

  We raced throughout the forest for quite some time, until we reached an area that was too breathtaking not to stop.

  “Let's walk for a minute,” I suggested.

  “Tired?”

  “Not at all. Just look at this place.”

  The path—narrow and washed out in spots—went uphill. It was filled with rocks covered in lichen and lime colored moss, and a little stream flowed over the path at an angle. Bright green ferns lined the way, and Ivy circled the oak trees, reaching up into the branches.

  “What is this place?”

  “This path leads to the coast, which is straight ahead. We won't be going that far today—we don't have time.”

  “I didn't know the ocean was back here. Can we go someday?”

  He nodded his head yes.

  We hiked up the hill, and as it leveled out, Drumm jumped back. He already had his bow with an arrow ready to shoot. How did he move so fast?

  “What's wrong?” I whispered.

  Before he could answer, two people stepped out on the path. “Oh it's you, Drumm,” a young man said.

  Drumm put his bow and arrow away. “What are you doing out here? So far from the ocean?”

  Two people about our age stood before us. The male was slightly shorter than Drumm, and the girl was about my height. To put it mildly, they were both bronzed and beautiful. She wore her long, golden hair up in some sort of twist, and her eyes were golden in color. She had the most perfect, slender nose and full lips. A pang of jealousy swept through me. How did one get so pretty?

  The young man was beyond description. He had black hair and tight, toned muscles, with perfect lips and a pronounced jawbone. He also had a small cleft in his chin. His eyes were strange, but they were growing on me. Slightly tilted up at the edges, they were blue with purple specks.

  I swallowed.

  “Ivy?” Drumm had been talking to me. He looked a bit disturbed with my actions.

  “Uhh…what?”

  “I said, this is Nicoli and Jin
a.” He pronounced Nicoli with a long “i” at the end.

  “Hi,” I said.

  Nicoli held out his hand. Mesmerized, I held out mine to let him clasp it. “Good to meet you too.” His hand was soft and cool.

  The girl smiled and nodded my way.

  Releasing my hand, he spoke to Drumm. “We are on the lookout. There has been theft attempt on the shoreline.”

  Apparently they were lucky enough to live in cottages by the sea.

  “Have they been successful in any way?” Drumm asked.

  “He tried, but we chased him into the forest. On Gala-Andra's orders. Otherwise he wouldn't have gotten very far.” He frowned.

  “I'll see if I can find out anything,” Drumm said. Anxious to leave, he said, “Good-bye then, until the next time we meet.”

  They struck fists. Drumm caught my arm and hauled me off, running toward home.

  I didn’t know why, but it kind of bummed me out that I didn't even get one last good look at the young man.

  When he stopped at some rhubarb plants, a few miles away from Nicoli and Jina, I asked, “Why were you in a hurry to get away from them?”

  He bit his bottom lip and squinted his eyes before he said, “It's not good for you to be around them for long.”

  “Why not?”

  He shrugged his shoulders and gave me a hand flap, as though he were dismissing the subject.

  He picked two stalks from a rhubarb plant and handed one to me. My mouth watered even before I could take a bite, and I could already taste the tartness of the plant. After taking a bite, my face puckered up. “Sour. I love it.”

  He ate it as though it were a slice of watermelon. Not even a twitch touched his face.

  “We better head back now, but we must stop at Izadora's first. She will want to speak with you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  When we walked into Izadora's, she was sitting in the living room where the big tree grew up through the floor. She sat by the fireplace, using an end table to write a letter. I couldn’t help but observe all of the hanging bottles and various items displayed on the limbs. What the heck was in all of these bottles? And what could she possibly use them all for?

  “I'll be with you in a moment.” She stuck the letter in an envelope and sealed it with wax from a candle. Then she stamped it with the foot of a dead animal—it looked as though it were a bird’s foot—and put it in the pocket of her blue robe-dress.

  “Would you like me to mail that for you, Izadora?” I asked, thinking I was being helpful.

  She just looked at me. She pushed herself up after a few tries, using the arms of the chair, and walked to the fireplace. She held her hands over a small pile of kindling and recited some words, and a fire began to blaze. She retrieved the letter from her pocket and tossed it into the flames, mumbling a few words under her breath. The smoke changed from black to red and then back to black, and then it slowly burned to nothing.

  She certainly had a way with fire; I almost couldn't believe my eyes. I had my doubts before, but they were banished from mind now, and at this point I was certain she was some sort of witch. It made me feel almost nervous, but in a way it exhilarated me. I had no doubt that she’d be the one to get my father back.

  Confused, I asked, “Why would you do that?”

  She sighed. “I am sending a letter to my brother, Izaill. I've threatened his very existence. He should not bother you during the day, when I am…awake. However, you are more or less on your own at night. There is only so much I can do during sundown and sunup. Be extra careful when you enter Magella's houseboat tonight. ”

  “Your brother? H—he is your brother?” I stammered.

  “Of course. The old fool,” was all she said.

  All right, things had just gotten too weird for me. What the hell kind of family was this? But I forced myself to push those thoughts aside, and tried to stay calm. It wouldn't do for me to have a breakdown in front of everyone.

  “How, um…you just sent him a letter by burning it in the fire?” I asked.

  Drumm snickered. “Ivy, that's how they communicate.”

  “You have a lot to learn. That much I am certain of,” Izadora said as she waddled to the kitchen, leaning heavily on her cane. She appeared much older than she had yesterday. Perhaps she hadn't slept well the night before.

  “You can't stay here long. It will be sundown soon. But I will tell you what I have learned about Izaill and why he had your father taken,” Izadora said.

  My mouth dropped. “Izaill took him? But why?”

  “He's opened a can of worms, he has. He could never leave anything alone. Always has to be prying in others’ affairs…just like Magella. Two peas in a pod, they are,” she said.

  “How so?” I asked.

  She stood at the stove, over a pot of water. She didn't turn the stove on; she just held her hand above the pot and, voilà, the water was brought to a boil. Several opened glass bottles sat upon the counter. She took a pinch from each one and added them to the water. An earthy smell filled the kitchen.

  Drumm leaned his back on the front door, his arms crossed. I sat in a wooden chair and waited for her to tell me about Izaill.

  “Izaill has one interest.” She stopped speaking. I noticed she didn't say his name in a hushed tone like everyone else did.

  I had to ask. “Why don't you say his name in a whisper like everyone else does?”

  She looked at me as though I were daft. “Why would I do that? If he wants to show up for the mere fact that I spoke his name aloud, let him. I do not fear Izaill. I'll put him in his place.” She stirred the contents of the pot. “Now, do you want to hear what he wants or not?”

  “I do.”

  “He has taken an interest in you and your sister. You are Seaforths. You are allies with the McCallister family—true, loyal friends. It has always been that way, and it will always be that way. The families are tied like a knot. The older generation of Seaforths is aware of all McCallister secrets.”

  “I don't understand what that has to do with anything.” I knew the McCallisters and Seaforths had always been neighbors—and of course, they were good friends—but how good, I didn't care.

  “McCallisters own the woods in these parts. The whole thing. Seaforths have always catered to them, worked for them, and helped them. Izaill wants the woods for himself. He wants to turn the next generation of Seaforths against the McCallisters. That would be you and Zinnia. And what better way to get under your skin than by stealing your father? If he can own you, he will have the upper hand. As you know, your grandparents grow old. You will one day take their place, regardless of your own wishes.” She removed the pot from the stove, dumping the contents through a cheese cloth and into a clay mug.

  “Own us? He can’t own us. And I don't plan on living in Maine for much longer.”

  She chuckled and exchanged a knowing look with Drumm.

  “He has your father already, but I shall have him returned. My sister has already tried to get her hooks into Zinnia, on Izaill’s behalf. But you—you have turned to me. Wise choice. I will protect you until my last breath. I would rather die than have him own these woods. He would do terrible things with the power this land holds.” She looked me in the eye. “But one thing is for certain: I need that rolling pin.”

  The pressure was on. I had to get the rolling pin, no matter what.

  I had barely listened to her about how the land held power; I didn't care. After I had my father back, we were leaving Maine. But when she mentioned my sister, I felt uneasy.

  “How has Magella tried to get her hooks into my sister?”

  “She has offered her what she considers a good deal. Whether she has accepted, I do not know yet.”

  “A good deal?”

  “Extension of life.”

  I watched Izadora closely, doubting what she said. Sometimes I wondered if she were senile, despite her ability to make the water boil on command. But when she snapped her fingers and made a saltshaker appear, I r
elinquished my thoughts.

  “You doubt what I say? I myself could give a person two thousand years of life, added to their own. But it is playing with fate. I will not do it.”

  Now, that comment made me believe she was partially senile. Who has the power to do such a thing? That was craziness. But I didn’t say anything.

  Thinking of the night before, I told Izadora about Zinnia possibly putting something into my tea to make me sleep.

  “It is as I feared, then. I believe she has fallen for my sister’s offer.”

  I began to chew my nails, my thoughts becoming fuzzy. I couldn't lose my sister to a pair of old crazies. There was only one solution to this mess: Izaill and Magella had to be stopped. But what would it take to stop them? My only choice was to follow Izadora’s orders.

  She took a needle out from her pocket, and I knew what was coming. She pricked her finger and held it over the mug, letting a single drop of blood hit the contents.

  I wrinkled my face. “Not again.”

  “Do you want to be protected or not? Drink. This concoction will enhance the protection that already exists within you. As I have stated before, if you are in trouble, I will know. But like I said, help is scarce during the night hours.” And then she added, “For now.”

  I didn't know what occupied her so heavily during the evening, but I would do as she said. I would have to be so careful when entering Magella's boat, because frankly, I would be on my own.

  I took the mug and drank the liquid, holding my nose so I wouldn't taste the bitter contents.

  “There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” she asked.

  “Blah,” I said.

  “We will go now, before the sun sets,” Drumm said.

  And without another word, we left.

  ***

  On the way back to Ian's gate, I asked Drumm where he slept at night.

  “Sleep? I don't sleep much. But when I do, it's on the steps of Izadora's tree house, with the dogs. We must continually guard Izadora. While I am away, they always stay alert and on guard.”