17. Chapter 17
“Oh, this is not good,” Ben muttered, his gaze following a police officer in a shiny-buttoned navy suit trot by on horseback. “We need to get back. Don’t step on any butterflies.”
“What are you babbling about?” Kira asked. “You shouldn’t step on butterflies, anyway!”
“You know what I mean.” Ben scowled at her through narrowed eyes. “If we change anything in time this far back, we could cause catastrophes in our present time.”
“Isn’t that what we’re here to do?” Kira said. “Change the past?”
“Not before we were born. Do you want to end up as a sea slug instead of a fae?”
Kira shuddered so violently she showered us in fairy dust that tickled my nose. I pressed the back of my arm to my nose and squeezed my eyes shut to deter the sneeze brewing there. When it finally passed, I elbowed them both in the ribs.
“Knock it off. You’re both right, let’s go-.” But before I could turn to leave, a musical sound drifted through the air and washed me with a sense of peace so deep that I was in danger of falling asleep where I stood.
The melody sounded so angelic that it soothed every raw nerve and unwound each aching muscle. I had to follow it.
“Maeve? Where are you going?” Kira asked as I clambered through the bushes.
“I’ve got to follow it.”
“Follow what?” she said, scrambling after me.
“You don’t hear it?” A smidgen of sense returned to me as I headed for the cobbles and detoured around the backs of the shops. Anyone who saw us might call to have us burned at the stake, dressed the way we were.
“Hear what?” Ben jogged to catch up with me and grabbed my arm, easing me to a stop.
“The music.” I pulled against Ben’s grip. Something in me needed to find its source.
Ben and Kira exchanged worried looks.
“You’re scaring me, Maeve,” Kira said. “Come on, let’s just go back and-.”
“No, we’re not going back. I have to find it.” I strode toward the sound, dragging Ben along with me.
Regardless of their concerns, they both followed me behind the row of shops to an open back door. As we neared it, the music grew louder.
“In here,” I said, darting inside.
“Will you stop her!” Kira hissed.
“She’s strong!” Ben’s grip on my arm slipped as I hurried down a set of stone steps to a cellar door.
With no concern for what lay behind, I threw the door open and the glorious sound immersed me in its wonder.
An old woman with wild grey hair stood behind a bubbling cauldron, a green glass bottle in one hand and a cork in the other. The sleeves of her black cloak billowed even in the smallest draft, and a conical hat sat on a chair behind her. Even a human would have known her as a witch if they’d seen her.
She popped the cork back in the bottle, and the wonderful sound stopped, as if she had taken the needle right off the record. I snapped out of the trance, my senses returning in a torrent that spiked my anxiety.
“A mermaid will always seek her own kind,” the witch said, waving the bottle in the air. “Good thing I had this Siren’s song on hand.”
“What?” Ben narrowed his eyes at the witch as she stowed the bottle on a shelf behind her. “Did you lure us here?”
“So suspicious.” The witch grinned a toothy grin. “You do your family proud in that way, Ben Everhart.”
Oh shoot. If she knew Ben’s name, she knew ours too. She certainly already knew I was a mermaid. But how?
“Fear not,” she said, giving the concoction in her cauldron a stir. “I mean you no harm. In fact, I’m here to help you.” She spooned a little of the potion out and held it out to us. “Would anyone like some Taste-bud potion? It’ll make everything you eat taste much better.”
“Uh, no thanks,” I said.
“Can’t blame you.” The witch took a small sip from the spoon. “The last one made everything taste like Brussels sprouts.” She smacked her lips together and dipped the spoon back in the cauldron. “This one tastes like carrots. An improvement, if nothing else.”
Kira’s mouth had fallen open, and she leaned forward a little to gawk at the woman. “Sorry, but who are you, and why did you bring us here?”
“Ugh, children these days. No patience,” the witch said, throwing a hand in the air. “My name is Esther Everhart.”
This time, Ben’s mouth fell open.
“And who is Esther Everhart?” I asked him out of the corner of my mouth.
“She’s a...” Ben trailed off as Esther leaned her elbows on the edge of the cauldron and cupped her head in her hands, waiting for his reply. “... an odd duck, or so I’ve heard.”
“Is that all?” Esther asked. “How disappointing. I really must do my best to leave a more interesting legacy. I’m a Seer, actually.”
“Not a very good one,” Ben muttered to me. “She never made an accurate prediction in her life.”
“Excuse me.” Esther grabbed the cauldron spoon and pointed it at Ben, sending flecks of potion spattering everywhere. “I am a fantastic Seer. But much like you, Ben Everhart, I have to keep my talents to myself to prevent the feud from worsening.”
I took a step forward, a smidge less intimidated by the enigmatic old woman than I had a few moments ago.
“Does that mean you saw us coming?” I asked.
“And more.” Esther returned to stirring the potion, tapping her nose with her finger. “I have seen everything that will happen to this island, including its end. That is, of course, why you are here, isn’t it?”
Kira flitted to the cauldron and fixed Esther with a hard stare, placing her hands on her hips.
“What happens?” she demanded. “Can we-?”
“No spoilers!” Esther said, loudly. “That is what you children say in the future, is it not?”
Wow, this woman was clearly a much better Seer than she had come across as.
“Listen, our friend is dying, and some of our family members,” Kira said. “We need-.”
“What you need is some specific direction.” Esther tried a little more of her potion. “If you wish to succeed. And I must stress, there is no guarantee that you will.”
“Are you saying you don’t know what happens?” I asked.
“There are two fates for Dusk in your time, and as we stand here today, one is infinitely more possible than the other.”
“And which fate is that?” Ben asked.
All humour drained from Esther’s face. “The fate in which all life on Dusk is eradicated.”