Chapter 2
Hitting the front steps of Hoopingarner House at a dead run, the heat of the flames tried to take my breath away–but I was an old hat at fighting fires.
My turnout gear was streaked with soot, sweat soaking the collar of the light blue T-shirt I always wear, and my axe balanced across my left shoulder.
“The worst of the fire has been extinguished for almost an hour,” Theo, Kai’s best friend since they were wing-high to a firefly, bellowed over the scuffle of their teammates checking the surrounding area for residual flames.
“Yeah, but old houses are sneaky bastards,” Kai mentally responded.
“And there are still embers burning inside some of the interior walls,” Roy, the Fairy King with whom I shared my soul, grumbled.
Having served at the right hand of the Danu, he was a great source of information and Magic, and a serious old pain in the butt.
He loved to remind me, ad nauseum, that he was the one and only confidant of the mother goddess of all Fairy Folk, the ultimate matriarch, and the ancestor of all Irish gods, goddesses, and Fairykind, from the very beginning, like right after Chaos Primordial goddess snapped her fingers.
Of course, I paid him the respect he was due… While also rolling my eyes and looking for the mute button.
“Oh, I’ll show you where the mute button is,” Roy snarled. “But first, you need to watch those size fourteen boots. Heat is really smoldering just beneath the floorboards.”
Stopping at the very edge of the misshapen circle of glowing sparks peeking through the antique flooring made of dense, rot-resistant Heart Pine, I pushed a wisp of Magic into the orangey light. A quick search told me that I was good to go.
Swinging my ax, I broke up the wood as Roy continued the monologue he always performed while we were battling a blaze: “Never forget that one missed pocket of flame could turn a hard-fought victory into a second disaster.”
“I am not going to let that happen,” I reassured. “Not to the oldest home in Dragoon Bootay.” Hitting the floor with a resounding blow, I kept right on going, “And most definitely, not to all my brothers and sisters who trust me to get them home safely.”
“Huah!” I struck another blow. “Not tonight.”
“Stay outside,” Roy mentally ordered the team for at least the third time in the ten seconds since I’d entered the house.
“But Chief…” Brieg, Theo’s younger brother, tried to argue.
“No buts,” I snapped, knowing I would need to apologize as soon as possible. “I'm doin' this alone."
I could feel their reluctance, but it was also abundantly evident that they knew arguing with me was about as useful as teaching a cat to tap dance. So, thankfully, I got a chorus of “Okay, Chief” coming back.
After releasing the first pocket of embers, I carefully started my inspection. The mansion creaked and groaned all around as I moved through the blackened remains of what had been a majestic home. The farther I moved into the mansion, the denser the smoke got. It was thick enough to taste.
Angry scorch marks crept up every wall, banister, column, and armoire. Their gnarled, spindly fingers just shy of spreading to the ceiling. It was dark. It was creepy. It was something I’d done thousands of times, but…
Something felt... Off. Wrong. Heavy. The little hairs at the nape of my neck stood on end as if someone was watching my every move.
The sensation crawled across my skin like invisible fingers. Goosebumps started to dance the Highland Jig all over my body at the precise moment that Roy grumbled, “Do you feel that?”
“You know I do.”
“Okay, Grump. I was just confirming.”
Silence filled the Hoopingarner House, the oldest estate in Dragoon Bootay and the one all the kids were scared to enter. I’d heard all the stories, most of them made up to scare the children, and for the most part, I didn’t believe a damn word.
However, with no warning, the silence felt suffocating… alive.
Opening my senses wide, I once again searched to be sure I was alone. In and out of every nook and cranny, even the closet under the stairs, the Mystical fingers of my preternatural instincts went all the way to the attic. Poking around, I found nothing.
Then I hit the third floor, and the second. Still not a damn thing, as all the alarms in my head and Roy were screaming.
“You need to get the hell out of here,” the Fairy King with whom I shared my soul warned.
“I need to check the basement.”
“Stubborn,” he snipped under his breath.
“Pigheaded” was my snappy retort before I shut Roy out.
One step, then another… I was still upright, but something was wrong– and getting more so with every passing second.
Stopping mid-step, I forgot all about ignoring Roy and mentally whispered, “What the hell?”
“As I stated, I have no clue, and as a Fairy who was here right from the very beginning, I can tell you that never happens.”
“I know.”
“Then you also know that you don’t have to whisper. We share a brain.”
“Okay, cut the shit. I’m sorry. Now, can you tell me what you feel?”
“No,” Roy immediately answered.
As one, we reached for the ancient Magic that had always answered the call. It was the only thing to do. But there was nothing.
“What the hell?” I huffed and kept reaching. “Are you feeling anything?”
Nothing.
“Roy?”
Still nothing.
Flipping the sight of my mind’s eye inward, I found the space suspiciously empty. Where the hell had Roy gone? What was he doing? Why did he always choose the most inopportune time to throw a tantrum?
“Fine!” I snapped, but I couldn’t let it go.
Not this time. I needed him to help me. There was no time for his tender sensibilities. We had a job to do, and Roy needed to get over it.
“Come on,” I demanded. “Talk to me.” Scoffing under my breath as I took another step, I tried a new approach. “I already apologized. IF you need another, then you have to be present to get it.”
Opening my mind’s eye as much as I could, a cold chill skittered down my spine. There was nothing… Not one damn thing. No fear. No pain.
Simply, the absence of everything. It was as though someone had thrown a huge wet blanket over most of my soul, turned out the light, and locked the door.
And in that instant, I knew with absolute certainty that Roy had nothing to do with my Magical, Mystical blackout. But if not him, then who?
A crackle echoed from the room ahead and cut off my mental wandering. Centuries of training took over. The questions could wait. People– human or Magical- could not.
Adjusting my grip on the axe, I stalked forward. Locating the sound of the flames trying to take hold, I brought the blade down hard and fast against a charred section of flooring.
The wood split. A crack snaked in every direction at damn near the speed of light.
And that was when my world disappeared.
I had just enough time to think one very profound thought that flew from my lips with all the brogue of the Isle of Skye, “Oh, frekkin’ shite!”
In my next heartbeat, gravity claimed me like the last pastrami sandwich in a sea of cheese and pickle. The jagged edges of the broken beams cut through the sleeves of my turnout coat as if it were nothing more than a wet paper towel, as I was plunged into complete and total darkness.
Dropping like a stone into a whole lot of the unknown, ash and dirt–at least I hoped that was what it was–filled my mouth. Arms shooting out in every direction they could, and a few they tried on for size, I reached as far as my fingers would stretch. Clawing for purchase, I found nothing but air.
Opening and closing my hands, clenching my fist so quickly I felt the breeze, I roared, I yelled, and I even screamed, but it was no use. I just kept falling into the never-ending abyss.
“What the…?”
THUMP.THUD! “ARRGGGHHHHHH!”
Pain exploded over, around, and through every inch of my body.
The breath I'd been about to suck into my lungs whooshed out in a humiliating grunt that I was really glad no one heard. Stars danced behind my eyelids, which would have been really cool had I not had a headache worse than the time I attended a Giant’s bachelor party.
For one terrifying moment, I couldn't breathe. I couldn’t move… I couldn’t think. All I could do was lie there, sprawled on cold stone, fighting for air.
Rolling about halfway to the right, then to the left, then onto my back, it felt as if I was doing my best impression of a turtle stuck with its belly facing towards the sky…
or the hole I’d fallen through. Trying for what seemed like the hundredth time to get myself upright, I was finally able to breathe at the exact second that somewhere nearby someone laughed.
Not loudly. There was no echo.
Not kindly. There was an undertone of sarcasm.
But it wasn’t nasty. It was… Well, it was more like a man who'd been waiting for someone to appear and had decided I would do.
“Who the hell is there?” Yes, I was snarling. He needed to know I was not to be messed with. He needed to be afraid. He needed…
“Well, well, well,” a raspy voice drawled from the darkness. It damn sure took ya’ long enough.”