Page 21 of Heart of the Wren (Haunted Hearts: Season of the Witch #2)

DARA

I TOOK one of Lorcan’s arms over my shoulder and helped him upstairs to his bedroom.

“Honestly,” Lorcan said, “it’s not that bad.”

“There’s no sense taking any chances.” Guiding him onto the unmade bed, I knelt down to untie his shoelaces.

“Lie here for an hour and we’ll see how you are then.

It does look a lot better, mind. The colour is almost back to normal.

” While checking his knee, I couldn’t help but admire the way Lorcan’s white GAA shorts cut into his pink, fleshy thighs.

I tugged off his shoes and put them under the bed.

He swung around so he was lying flat.

wince you did tells me this was a good idea,” I said. “I’ll get you a cup of tea. Are you hungry? I can make you a sandwich.”

He shook his head.

I put my hands on my hips. “This is getting more dangerous. It could have easily been your skull instead of your knee.”

“You don’t think this is anything to do with…” He gestured around himself. “This?”

I know I should have told him about my spell. But I didn’t. “I most certainly do. And it confirms what I’d been worried about — this isn’t confined to the farm. It’s connected to you.”

I wasn’t lying. My spell shouldn’t have caused any problems but everything had been amplified lately, from my aura reading to Carol’s ESP. And Lorcan was at the heart of it.

“I still don’t understand why the offering and reburial didn’t work,” I said. “I’ve been doing a banishing ritual every evening and I’ve smudged the whole house with sage from top to bottom. I don’t know, maybe I need to do some reading.”

“The only library in the village is the one at the national school but it’s all kids’ books,” Lorcan said. “The proper library is in Tralee. But it won’t be open on a Sunday.”

I rubbed my forehead. “Tell me again why you were digging in the top field.”

“I need more space for the sheep. I was turning the soil. ”

“Have you never used the field before?” I asked.

“Only for storing things on. Never for grazing.”

I paced around the bedroom. “And where exactly did you dig? An ordinary patch of grass?”

His ears flexed.

My hands dropped. “It wasn't a fairy ring, was it?”

Lorcan gripped the bedclothes. “I'm not that much of an eejit.”

“Were there any flowers?”

“A few daisies, probably.”

“In a ring? ” My eyes widened.

Lorcan bit his lip. “I wouldn’t call it a ring, exactly...”

It suddenly got very warm in his bedroom.

Lorcan’s grip on the blankets tightened and the whole bed shook as he shouted. “A fairy ring is made of mushrooms, not flowers!”

“They can be either!”

“Since when?”

“The stone age, probably!” I ran my hands over my shaved head. “Did you at least move it to another part of the field?”

He didn’t speak but his mouth hung open.

“Ah, Lorcan, for feck sake...”

He curled his lip. “Will you stop? I didn't know it was a fairy ring! And anyway, I didn't think they were real.”

I pointed at him. “Yes, you did.”

“Yes, I did, but the field still needed to be cleared.”

“Why didn't your parents do it? Or your grandparents? ”

He swallowed hard.

“Exactly. Because they knew better. Why didn’t you tell me this before?” My cheeks flushed, my hands grew hot, and I couldn’t stop myself from raising my voice. “What kind of person moves a fairy ring…”

“Are you really getting thick with me over a few flowers?”

“I’m getting thick with you because you didn’t tell me about them!”

Lorcan sat up. “I didn’t know you were in charge of them! And what difference would it make? It’s not as if you’re being any use in stopping all this, anyway. Nothing you’ve done has helped at all. For feck sake, Dara, you can’t seriously be this mad about—”

I walked out and slammed the bedroom door behind me.

???

I headed downstairs to the kitchen, banging pots and pans, muttering under my breath.

I couldn’t believe how stupid Lorcan had been.

Everyone knows you never, ever disturb a fairy ring.

There’s not a man, woman, or child in the country who doesn’t know that.

But there’s Lorcan, wading through the daisies, digging them up willy-nilly, not a care in the world.

And he wonders why he’s having bad luck! The feckin’ eejit.

I gripped the edge of the sink and shook my head.

I knew Lorcan wasn’t to blame. Being superstitious is one thing but actually having to curtail your plans because of some old legends is quite another.

And while all of this was very real to me doesn’t mean it’s real to everyone else.

Still, I wished people would remember this folklore was passed down from generation to generation for a damn good reason.

There was power in the land. Dark, hidden power, older than the nation which stood upon it, and older than the people who lived on it.

Had I known about the ring sooner… what?

What would I have done differently? The apology should have appeased them.

Maybe I would have set out a bowl of cream instead of honey?

I didn’t know. And there was the problem.

I told Lorcan I’d fix this problem for him but I was almost as lost as he was.

I didn’t know what to do and I didn’t know how to handle not knowing.

I’d experienced plenty of supernatural occurrences in the past and I’d always muddled through with a mixture of knowledge, experience, and luck, but this was different.

There was more happening than I understood.

The three birds, the spiky shadow figures, the damages, the injury…

They were all building to something but I didn’t know what.

My ears and cheeks flushed, and my head grew lighter.

“Are you making dinner?” Carol wiped her boots on the mat at the back door.

“I’m supposed to be.” I had gone into the kitchen with the intention of preparing food for us all but had become stuck in my thoughts instead. I poked my head into the fridge. “Will chops do?”

Carol slumped onto a chair. “As long as I don’t have to cook them: yes.”

I took out a bowl and filled it with potatoes. “How do you feel about peeling?”

“Ambivalent.” Nonetheless, she took a knife and started. After a couple of minutes silence, she cleared her throat. “What techniques? ”

“Beg your pardon?”

“In the car. You said you could teach me some techniques.”

“Oh!” I’d almost forgotten the conversation on the drive home.

Grateful for the distraction, I set to work.

“Yes, yes. Meditations to help focus your mind, mostly. A clear head is key to most things in life, in my experience. And I’ll teach you how to cast a magic circle — a pure space that’s part here and part in the Otherworld.

Your gift may well lean towards healing but you’ll likely have talents in other areas as well.

I suspect you have a touch of ESP — extra sensory perception.

Have you even tried any fortune telling? ”

“You mean with a crystal ball or whatever?”

“If it works for you.”

Carol said she hadn’t so I cleaned my hands on a towel and filled the kettle. I took a teapot and filled with a couple of scoops of tea leaves. “I’ll show you a simple method.”

While the kettle boiled, Carol cleared the potatoes away to make room.

“The best part of this,” I said, “is first you get to drink the tea.” I poured two cups.

Carol dumped a huge spoonful of sugar into her cup. “Are you and Lorcan fighting? I heard shouting earlier.”

I tipped some milk into my cup. “I wouldn’t say we were shouting. More like… vociferous disagreement.”

Carol’s spoon tinked against her cup and she stirred it. She licked her bottom lip, just a touch .

“Is there anything else on your mind?”

“Well,” she kept stirring and stirring. “You two get on well, don’t you? Most of the time?”

“I’d say so. He’s a nice man.”

“He is, he is.” Tink, tink, tink . “And you’re alright, sleeping on his floor?”

My ears started to burn again. “It’s fine. Very comfortable, all things considered.” I knew what she was getting at but I wasn’t going to make it easy for her. Nor did I want to betray Lorcan’s trust or privacy. “Drink up.”

When my cup was empty, I showed her the inside.

“You see how the remaining tea leaves make patterns and symbols? You can interpret those to tell someone’s future.

Sometimes they’re nice and clear. You might see letters or numbers, or shapes of everyday items. And then there’s the density of the bits that aren’t obvious patterns.

The spaces between them.” I sat back. “But anyone can do that. You have to look deeper. Let the shapes tell you their tale. Let them build a narrative. It’ll become a story bubbling up from somewhere deep inside and flowing out through you. ”

“Can you read my leaves?”

I thought for a moment. “I’ll give it a go. But you’re young. Full of potential paths. How much do you want to know?”

Carol finished her tea. “If you read me out one future does it mean it’s the path I’ll follow?”

“Not necessarily. It’ll be one option, though.”

She fidgeted in her chair. “Can you see what will happen if I move to England? ”

Lorcan had told me all about Carol’s predicament on the drive to Ross Castle. I got her to turn her cup upside down on the saucer and turn it clockwise three times. I took the cup and peered inside. I kept my face neutral, giving nothing away.

“Well?”

“I see happiness,” I said. “The leaves tell me you’re a bright girl, with a good head on her shoulders. You have a light inside you and a strong gift. You can help people. No matter where in the world you are.”

Carol leaned back and didn’t say anything for a few moments. “How did you learn how to do this?”

I studied her face for a moment. “The spirits told me. Spirits of the air. The earth. The moon too. She talks quite a lot, if you know how to listen. I’m a witch.”

Carol grinned up at me. “I knew you were weird. I thought it was because you were gay.”

???

We found Eddie in the living room, sitting at one end of the couch. Carol sat at the other. Neither spoke a word. He’d made himself busy in the farmyard for an hour or so after we’d gotten home.

“Should I leave?” I asked.

“Please don’t,” Carol said. “You can help me explain.”

I sat in the armchair. “Did you not know? About Carol’s gift?”

Eddie bit his thumbnail. “It’s news to me.”

“You’re not the only one,” Carol said. “Healing Lorcan’s knee? I didn’t know I could do that.”

“But you’ve always been drawn to helping people, haven’t you?” I asked. “You told Lorcan you wanted to be a nurse, I think?”

Carol tapped the arm of the couch. “I suppose.”

I kept my voice smooth and calm. “I think you should follow your instincts. You clearly have a gift for healing. Sometimes, a seventh daughter will be drawn to divination — telling the future. Sometimes its second sight, so they can know things they shouldn’t be able to know.

And sometimes they’re drawn to witchcraft. ”

“You’re a witch?” Eddie asked her.

“No,” Carol said. “And I don’t think I want to be. No offence, Dara.”

I chuckled. “None taken.”

Eddie pointed at him. “You mean he’s…? You’re…?”

I nodded. “Don’t panic, I’m not in league with the Devil, I don’t even believe in him.

All it means is I’m in touch with the more supernatural side of life.

You’re from Essex, aren’t you? There are lots of witches in Essex.

Not as many as there used to be, mind you.

Have you never heard of the Chelmsford witch trails?

Over 100 people were hanged there. Horrible stuff.

Awful, altogether. Most of them probably weren’t even witches at all, of course.

They were people who knew how to use plants to heal or read weather patterns.

And some of them were victims of hate and spite.

Have you noticed anything strange happening at the farm recently? ”

Eddie told me a bookcase fell in the storage shed. “And my tools keep going missing. I put them down, turn around, and they’ve gone. ”

“You never mentioned this before,” Carol said.

“I didn’t think much about it.” He turned to me. “Are you doing it? Is it, like, witchcraft, or whatever?”

“No, no, it’s not my doing. Lorcan dug up a fairy ring and—”

Carol sat forward. “He did what? ”

I held up my hands. “I know, I know. And since then, he’s had a run of bad luck. Well, more than bad luck, truth be told. I’m trying to get to the bottom of it.”

???

I stuck my tired old toothbrush into the glass by the sink.

How quickly I’d grown used to doing it instead of shoving it into my rucksack.

I always kept the essentials in my rucksack.

I was prone to wandering and didn’t always make it back to my van before dark.

Lorcan’s toothbrush leaned away from mine in the glass.

Outside the door to Lorcan’s bedroom, I hesitated.

Carol had taken a plate of food up to him earlier.

He’d told her he’d wanted to rest his leg a while longer before coming downstairs.

I gently opened the door and peered inside.

He lay under his bedclothes with his back to the door.

I lifted my rucksack from the chair and closed the door behind me.

Downstairs, I boiled the kettle and filled my hot water bottle.

Saying goodnight to the dogs, I quietly closed the front door behind me, made my way across the arched bridge, and settled down in the back of my camper van for a chilly, restless night.