Chapter 8 #6
“Still speaking theoretically, I would say my branch of the Aodhán line has never been overly blessed with fertility, thanks to gifts the gods gave us, so if I conceived more than one, I would consider it a win.” I quickly finished my wine, though it did little to ease the sudden dryness in my throat, then added with forced lightness, “But it’s pointless me worrying about such things, because my continuing lack of good judgement when it comes to men suggests that’s an option that might never be on the table for me. ”
And definitely wouldn’t be if the gods had their way and the current game did end with my death.
“Perhaps your luck is changing,” he mused lightly. “The gods did throw me in your path, after all.”
“To cause chaos,” I replied, “not babies.”
He laughed. “A truth I cannot dispute. But, speaking of babies, or at least, the practice of making them—” He gulped down the remainder of his red, plucked my glass from my hand, placed both in the basket, then moved it to the floor.
“—we should make the most of our limited time together tonight before sleep steals us away.”
“Meaning we cannot sleep in this place?”
“No. The magic requires awareness. If we sleep, it will automatically return us to whence we came and shut down until required again.”
“That’s damnably inconvenient.”
“Consider it similar to a power-saving feature.”
He slipped under the blankets and then tugged me on top of him. I wriggled to make myself comfortable and felt his instinctive response.
“Are you sure we’re not pushing your virility right now? Because that’s a pretty lackluster response—”
The rest was lost in a yelp of surprise as he flipped our positions and, over the course of the next few hours, proceeded to prove just how virile a Myrkálfar heir could be.
Mathi picked me up at seven as promised, and I yawned all the way across to the private airfield.
“Hard night?” he asked as we both climbed out of the car.
Henrick collected my overnight bag containing a spare set of clothes from the trunk. I nodded my thanks and said, “Could say that. I hope there’s coffee on board.”
“Coffee and cake. No bacon butties, I’m afraid.”
“I’m devastated.”
My voice was dry, and he chuckled softly, pressing a hand against my spine and guiding me over to the small plane. “Anyone I know? Or should I mind my own business?”
“I bet you can guess the answer to that question.”
“Oh, I bet I can—Cynwrig?”
My gaze shot to his. “He’s in mourning—”
“And you’re wearing a Bruadar.”
My eyebrows rose. “When did you see it?”
“Saw the base of it when you absently pushed your sleeves up the other day. They’re very distinctive.”
“Yeah, well,” I muttered, “it’s a good way to communicate—”
“Is that what we’re calling it now?” he cut in dryly. “‘Communication’?”
I nudged him. “Idiot.”
A pretty stewardess waited at the base of the stairs and welcomed us both warmly before adding, “Your three other guests are already aboard, sir.”
Meaning Lugh had not been successful in convincing Darby to stay home; maybe he hadn’t even tried. A wise man did know a losing hand when he saw one.
I clambered up the stairs and entered the plane.
The cabin was spacious, with eight well-spaced, plushly comfortable chairs in an area that could have easily handled double that.
There was a bar and food heating area up the front, and two toilets at the rear.
Darby and Lugh were sitting to the immediate left of the door, in chairs that faced each other, and Bodhrán was at the back.
“Morning, Mathi. Ms. Aodhán,” he said with a nod.
“Bethany, please. We don’t stand on formalities in this outfit.”
“Especially when our relic-hunting escapades have a habit of leading us into life-and-death situations,” Mathi drawled. “Formalities do tend to get in the way in such times.”
“I was warned you had a habit of finding problems.” Amusement twitched Bodhrán’s lips. “But the research I’ve undertaken suggests our destination is not an area known for earth-related problems.”
“It’s not the earth-related problems we have to worry about,” Lugh said. “It’s the godly ones.”
“And will there be such problems?” he asked.
“Hard to say.” I walked over to the window seat midway down the plane and sat down. “But there is a lake with live things wiggling about in it.”
“Did anyone think to bring a boat?” Bodhrán asked. “Or are we just going in, all guns blazing? Figuratively speaking, of course.”
“That approach works more often than you’d think,” Lugh said with a grin. “But I have sourced a couple of inflatable rafts. We just have to swing by the store and pick them up on the way through.”
“Easily enough done.” Mathi took the chair opposite me. “Janis, please tell the pilot we’re ready to go.”
The stewardess nodded and did so. The plane’s engines fired up, and the ramp was withdrawn. A few minutes later, we were on our way.
I undid the belt when I was allowed and turned to face my brother. “I don’t suppose you happened to work on those scrolls for a few hours last night?”
“He did indeed,” Darby said, voice dry. “In fact, he used them as an excuse to get out of doing the dishes.”
“As excuses go, I do find that an acceptable one,” Mathi commented.
“Says the man who has never picked up a tea towel in his life.”
“You lie, Bethany Aodhán. I have, in fact, picked one up at least half a dozen times in my life.”
“No doubt when the servants were off on holidays,” Darby mused. “Or perhaps when Beth threatened to nut you if you didn’t.”
“One of those comments might be accurate, but can we please concentrate on the matter at hand? Lugh, please do continue.”
“It appears,” he replied, the amusement dancing around his eyes fading to seriousness, “that what we have is a list of those attending a meeting, dating back decades. Doesn’t say what sort of meeting, of course, because that would make things far too easy.”
“Could it be related to the Ninkilim meetings?” I asked. “And could they, perhaps, even be the damn scrolls Mom stole and we could find no trace of?”
“That would depend on whether Carla—or one of her identities—really does own the house,” he replied. “Right now, we can’t take it for granted, despite your visions.”
“There is one person who might know,” Mathi said. “Loudon—he was the secretary for the Ninkilim, and responsible for all their meeting records.”
Loudon Fitzgerald was an elf dealer of antiquities who was also a collector of ancient scrolls.
He’d also been a friend of Mom’s and at one point—before Sgott—her lover, but that hadn’t stopped Mom breaking into his vault and stealing a number of scrolls.
From the little we knew, they hadn’t contained anything vital, but that might have Loudon attempting to cover his ass.
And with good reason, given his partner in crime had been murdered not long after we’d visited Loudon.
“Hasn’t he gone to ground?” Lugh asked.
“No,” Mathi said. “He’s currently in IIT protective custody. I’m not sure where, but it should be easy enough to find out.”
“Might be better if we personally ask either your father or Sgott,” I said. “Aside from your current lack of access, any search through the IIT system will likely raise alarms.”
“He probably isn’t on the system anyway,” Mathi replied. “Not given the suspicion that the organization has been infiltrated by the Ninkilim.”
“Then I’ll talk to Sgott when we get home.”
“And I will continue working on the translation,” Lugh said. “It will take time, though, so do not expect immediate miracles.”
“Miracles in a non-immediate manner will do just fine,” I commented, amusement twitching my lips.
Lugh snorted but otherwise didn’t say anything.
Janis came around to take our orders for tea, coffee, and cake—the latter being a choice of plain old chocolate, lemon drizzle, or banana and walnut.
I chose the latter because it at least had some fruit and nut in it, and was therefore the closest option to “healthy” breakfast cake.
By the time we’d finished, we were coming into land at Cardiff Airport.
Once we’d deplaned, we found the Land Cruiser Mathi had rented and headed out, detouring to the camping store to collect the rafts and paddles Lugh had ordered.
The wasn’t much traffic on the road, and it only took us a little over half an hour to reach Bridgend; from there, it was another ten minutes to the castle.
Mathi pulled into the small parking area, and we all climbed out.
The day had turned bitterly cold, and the sky dark and threatening.
Thunder rumbled in the distance; a few seconds later, lightning flashed, briefly crawling across the base of the heavy skies.
It was a power I could call if trouble struck.
And strike it will....
I rubbed my arms and did my best to ignore the premonition.
Lugh walked around to the Cruiser’s trunk, dragged out all his gear, then tossed protective overalls, climbing harnesses, and head lamps to all of us.
I tugged mine on, then strapped my knives over the top of my overalls.
I briefly thought about tucking my phone into a pocket, but there was unlikely to be any signal once we got deeper underground anyway, so even if we did strike trouble, it wasn’t going to be much use.
I shoved it into my handbag, then tossed both into the trunk before Lugh slammed it closed.
Darby was remaining close by, so there was little chance of anyone breaking into it without her noticing them lurking about.