Something Greedy This Way Comes, Deadly Fairy Tales Book 3

1 ALL HALLOWS EVE

Fleadh nan Mairbh: Feast of the dead, Samhain or Halloween.

LOCKE

The day of Keleigh’s blessing finally arrived. I hoped I could get her through this first ceremony without her being any wiser to me slowly drawing her into the Order. She was so overwhelmed with her magical abilities coming alive she didn’t have time to question me, but she was starting to catch on and ask harder and harder questions. But there was no other way. Everyday someone reminded me her safety was paramount to the future of our people, and in spite of my concerns about the Elders calling for a human sacrifice, Keleigh needed the collective protection of the Order behind her.

Since I’d returned to Salem I’d fought tirelessly to get Keleigh to accept her ExtraOrdinary skills and to start training for whatever was hunting us. I feared if her mother hadn’t sent us on this quest for the bottle I would have never gotten her this far.

Why did we have to break in to Ascension Cemetery? Keleigh asked as she trailed behind me wringing her hands. Her nervousness slinked off her and melded into the expiring grass and crumbling monuments.

"Fleadh nan Mairbh," I said over my shoulder, but the real reason for coming to the cemetery was my hope to atone for past transgressions.

Feast of the Dead?

Don’t worry, the groundskeepers only locked up early because it’s Halloween.

Which means we shouldn’t be making waves, even to honor past clan souls, Keleigh hissed as she searched through the diminishing dusk; the barren oaks and evergreens swayed overhead. Why do I feel eyeballs on me if the Seer ran off?

I pulled up short. Ran off where?

Madi said she hasn’t seen her since the night Cernunnos told us she’s my Seer. Keleigh shrugged. Tristan promised Madi he’d find her.

The Seer left because of the letter. Damn. I continued to hurt her—the more I tried to set things right in this uncomfortable love triangle the more complicated I made them. You realize she can move between realms and she’s not on Ordinary time, right?

What do you mean?

Time for her has what my mother calls ‘fits and starts’.

Keleigh thought for a moment and then asked, You mean time isn’t linear for her?

Exactly. She can ‘run off’ but she can’t really escape, something will eventually drag her back here. And while she might feel like she’s been gone for a long time and she’ll end up right where she was.

Which probably totally sucks. Keleigh glanced around again and lowered her voice to a whisper. Can she travel back in time or go into the future?

Possibly. I smiled at her in reassurance. You’re sensing the Guardians, they’re on duty for Samhain, making sure Ordinaries don’t cross onto sacred ground. I searched the grave markers for the one I was looking for. We don’t usually invite outsiders to this ceremony.

You invited Wiz and Madi, Keleigh grumbled. Didn’t you learn your lesson?

I frowned, dropping my backpack on the ground.

I’m sorry. Keleigh reached out and stopped me from industriously digging in my bag. I meant the other night with Cernunnos not what happened to the Seer.

I knew you were talking about the other night, I said on a sigh. But the other thing was totally my fault and I needed to make sure something similar didn’t happen to Keleigh. She was jumpy ever since Cernunnos’ visit; I didn’t think she was particularly frightened of him, more afraid of what she might do to someone else by accident, but Madi said Ciara was back at school and Cernunnos had retrieved his horns with no complications. Hopefully, Keleigh would drop off OtherWorldly radar until she could complete her training.

A branch snapped nearby and I pulled her closer. Whisper, whisper in my ear anything you wish to hold dear. I knelt in front of a small moss-covered headstone, opening one of the pockets of my backpack to reveal a brightly-colored cardboard box. Pulling out a small trowel, I dug a hole about six inches from the marker. That’s probably Wiz. Guardians never make a sound.

Keleigh brushed her fingertips on the marble where she thought the name might be. I’m sure she wondered who I’d be stopping to visit with and why, but even the dates were obliterated by the moss in the middle of the stone.

I latched onto her wrist. No, don’t. It takes forever for the moss to grow over it.

How do you know?

"Because even after two years, there is no moss on her marker."

Keleigh’s brows drew together in confusion. This isn’t hers?

The huge angel cloaked in pristine white granite on the other side of the cemetery, I grumbled bitterly. I can’t imagine what possessed her mother to select an angel when she always referred to her as her little minion.

Is it the beautiful seraph? Keleigh stared in that direction; for the first time questioning me about the girl I loved. The girl who might be somewhere nearby, cast in the shadowy realm, watching us and possibly aiding us. Or she might be light years away.

I nodded my head but didn’t turn away from the hole in the ground.

Her angel is so graceful in her stoic pose, wings enfolded around her crouched body, head turned upwards to the heavens, hair trailing past her wings to the ground, and permanent tears cresting her cheeks.

A fitting memorial to what she’s become. I sighed. I guess her mother knew what she was doing after all.

Why can’t you say her name? Keleigh dropped to her knees, helping me dig as she watched pain transform my expression into an angry one.

I can’t stand to hear it spoken aloud. I shoved the McDonald’s box into the hole. It still hurts because I couldn’t save her.

Who’s grave is this then? Keleigh asked, examining the cheeseburger happy meal I shoved into the hole.

I shrugged off her question and Keleigh brushed her hands against each other to wipe the sweet smelling soil away.

You’ll remember when you’re ready. I frowned, knowing she’d blocked out the old memory because it was as traumatic for her as it had been for me. I’d always remembered it and somehow I’d blamed Keleigh for it, even though I’d always known it wasn’t her fault. I’d used it as one of the excuses to push her away when the Order sent her here after her parent’s death.

Sensing my tension, she asked, Why are you doing this to yourself?

The ancients said we should water our people’s graves with milk. Spirits always come home again, and they need regular attention, or they could grow angry and cause disruptions.

"You think the Seer’s pissed at you? Keleigh asked while I emptied a two-liter Coke bottle over the earth, watching it foam and bubble. Imagine how she feels about me. It must be the seventh circle of hell having to protect the person—"

I put my hands on hers, stilling their nervous flittering. The girl I care about now?

No, I meant the person sent here so soon after she was murdered. Keleigh’s hand went to her mouth suddenly. Do you think the Seer’s death has something to do with me being sent here?

I glanced through the tree line wondering who was nearby, listening. Otherwise, it’s awfully coincidental.

I thought bringing Keleigh here as a way of nudging her memory of our past—it was the one secret everyone held fast—but she wasn’t ready yet. My mother told me I’d never been good at being completely honest with myself about my deepest hurts and fears. Nor was I patient. I’d come to the realization lately that a bargain had been struck, there was a price to be paid for my gifts, and I feared those I loved the most would end up paying the debt. The Seer was the second piece of evidence confirming my theory and some part of me feared Keleigh would be the third.

When I got to my boots I pulled Keleigh up off her knees and guided her toward the six-foot tall brick fence bordering the Sisters’ property. Boudicca yelped at our approach, her tail wagging against the bushes while she pulled against her tether. I untied Boudicca and lifted her onto the fence’s ledge before I bent over, threading my fingers together to give Keleigh a boost over.

She put her foot in my hands but stalled. Seriously, is this the best way to go?

Yes, straight through Creepy Hollow.

Keleigh dropped over the fence and landed in the mushy leaves and wet soil. I dropped down alongside her almost soundlessly; I could move just as stealth like as the Guardians.

There’s a totally good trail. Keleigh pointed at the worn path.

Which leads you right to the guard dogs. I started through the stand of desolate tree stumps and towering, dispersed ancient oaks. What are you so nervous about anyway?

An owl hooted. The screech bounced off the sides of the ravine, sending a shiver up the back of my neck, and Keleigh grabbed onto my jacket. Creepy sounds. Another low hoot was followed by a buzzing sound darting from tree to tree, high above us.

I peered overhead, speaking a few words, before catching Keleigh’s wrist and tugging her along. I didn’t want her meeting anything else she wasn’t ready to face when I was barely able to get her to agree to meet the Sisters and start her training. Let’s get a move on.

We walked at a clipped pace, darting back and forth between trees, avoiding sinkholes and prickly bracken. We were both breathing heavily when we stepped into a clearing, and six giant wolfhounds bounded toward us barking. Boudicca barked in reply as I raised my hand and the dogs stopped, pacing along an invisible line I had drawn. At the center of the clearing was an enormous oak tree, its trunk as thick as a school bus. There were thinner hawthorn trees perfectly spaced around the oak with a five-foot-wide gap between each sapling.

What if the Sisters have something to do with what’s happening? Keleigh asked as I coaxed her up the gravel path to a moss-covered tree. She glanced over my shoulder, searching through the birch and willows surrounding the clearing. What if they sacrificed the Seer? she whispered through the rapidly descending twilight. My magic mirror has decided to go on sabbatical. What if we’re walking into a trap, here? Keleigh looked up the trunk of the towering oak before us—it’s canopy reached so far into the sky we couldn’t see the top. Where are we going?

I brushed the bark of the tree and a stone archway resting on Celtic columns pushed through the moss. Only one way to find out. I touched the bell. Instead of a ding-dong, harp music played as the tree bark crawled over the arched lintel of the entrance and formed a contorted overhang.

Keleigh raised her finger to the symbol etched into the wide-planked door, a circle centered between two crescents back-to-back. I placed my fingertips over hers, tracing along with her. This is the symbol for the triple goddess.

Before Keleigh could respond, the heavy door swept open. Bridgiana, who appeared to be about fourteen, brushed her ginger-colored hair over her shoulder and it trailed over the needlework carpet. Keleigh peered inside the foyer, measuring the depth of the space before pulling her head back out and gazing around the side of the tree. There was no way the depth of the room could be accommodated by the trunk of the tree.

Bridgiana smiled at me mischievously. She gave me a head to toe once over and her eyes brightened. Her lips twisted in admiration, as she bit into an apple, the juice running down her perfect chin. At least someone still found me charming. The fact that Bridgiana could chew me up and spit me out with as much ease as the apple she ate wasn’t lost on me.

One of the first lessons my father ever taught me was to never mess with the Maid, the Mother, or the Crone. I should have mentioned it to Keleigh before I brought her onto the property … hopefully she wouldn’t learn it the hard way.

2 SECRETS, SECRETS ARE NO FUN

Liminality: an energy exchange (shock) between the worlds when passing through an OtherWorldly portal.

KELEIGH

Lockhardt, I thought you’d never arrive. The girl’s restless expression examined my hand nestled in Locke’s and a barely restrained Boudicca leashed in his other hand. She chewed, assessing Locke from his brown tresses to his untied boots; it was a leer of a woman much older than fifteen. Yet another competitor for your affections. She giggled the way junior high girls do—high-pitched and boisterously. You’re going to start a cat fight.

Keleigh, this is Bridgiana. She is the youngest of the Sisters. Don’t let her appearance fool you, she’s older than me and predatory.

Bridgiana’s pale blue gown was sewn with so much silver thread it almost appeared white in the vanishing light. The lace around the collar matched the hem brushing her carefully manicured blood-red toes, the color identical to the apple she extended in my direction.

A beautiful witch who looked like she’d been snatched from a Victorian advertisement for Purity Soap offering another woman an apple? I’d seen this movie before. Um, no thank you.

Smart and lovely, Bridgiana said, inspecting the fruit. The apple didn’t work out so well for Eve, either. She fingered the winged brooch at her waist before taking my hand and kissing it. My lady, she said as she curtsied.

Why are OtherWorldly people always ‘my ladying’ me?

The apple disappeared into the folds of her gown as Bridgiana motioned us to precede her into the kitchen beyond. I shivered when I crossed the threshold, as if I’d been shocked. I leaned closer to Locke. Why did electricity just dance up my spine?

Liminality, Locke explained. An exchange between the worlds when we passed through the OtherWorldly portal.

Is this the OtherWorld?

The inside of this tree is only a portal, a place of exchange, a bridge to worlds running parallel to ours.

The kitchen was large, but cozy with dried bundles of sage and thyme hanging from the rafters, their knotted swags drifting between rosemary and basil. I glanced back at the entrance; it shimmered as if it might disappear. Are we in Tara? I asked, refusing to give up until I got a concrete answer about exactly where I was.

I told you Tara is in Ireland. This location is similar to Tara but located in North America. Locke scratched his sideburn.

Can I get to Tara from this house?

She’s inquisitive, isn’t she? Bridgiana asked as she moved items around on one of the three worktables in the center of the kitchen.

Yes and I’ll be expecting answers, I snapped.

We live on the fringes of the OtherWorld, this way we can cross between your world and ours. Bridgiana smiled tightly, refusing to offer anything more.

Whatever Bridgiana was selling or giving away I wasn’t buying. I didn’t trust her or the Sisters but this was the only place to be trained and possibly my only chance to find information about my mother.

Birds guarded each of the distinct work areas. An owl was perched over a table littered with crystal balls, mort and pestles, and mirrors. The second table was guarded by a black, beady-eyed raven and covered with ground-up piles of powders varying in colors from ebony to a burnt orange. The table Bridgiana leaned against had white finches—one twittered a song from a candlestick, another from a censer wafting green smoke, and a third pecked at a gong. Three large volumes were on the table, their unusual flesh-colored bindings were unmarked by any word or symbol, but one was open, and its translucent parchment pages wafted in the breeze. When a page rested against its comrades, the scrolled lettering was visible, but when it stood in the breeze filtering in through an open window the pages appeared blank.

The granite floor stones matched those chiseled into place around the enormous fireplace. The elderly woman standing in front of it could have easily stepped into the hearth without hunching over any more than her stooped shoulders allowed. Her silver hair hung past her knotted elbows, at which sat the largest dog I’d ever seen. The dog’s ears came to attention, and it gave a single woof, to which Boudicca woofed in reply before she leapt away from Locke and pounced on the larger dog.

The old woman’s joints creaked as she patted Boudicca’s head. Yes, your mother hasn’t forgotten ye. She drew a cord from the pocket of her skirt, and measured it against her cane before cutting it with silver shears. The pup will have a long life, you will see. The old woman sighed with satisfaction, braiding the cord and then tying it around Boudicca’s neck.

Locke has brought Keleigh, Bridgiana said.

Eh? Arianna yelled as she retired the scissors on the mantle and produced a megaphone from the creases of her navy skirt.

Bridgiana rolled her eyes, but raised her voice. This is Keleigh, she yelled into the large end of the tube.

Arianna drew the megaphone to her mouth. You don’t have to scream, Bridgiana.

Bridgiana gave us an extended blink, before sulking off toward the dining table in the center of the adjoining room, where another woman sat reading.

I taught your mother. Arianna raised her weathered hands to either side of my face, scrutinizing me with her cold fingers. She was a gifted girl, more talented than any other. What do you think of this one, Lockhardt?

She has skills. Locke cocked his head in my direction. Slightly undisciplined, but with training she will be impressive.

As were all those in her line before her, but does she have the mental acuity to weather the storm brewing? Will she be capable of doing what needs doing?

Locke shrugged. It will be a decision she’ll have to make.

And will you do the wooing?

Wooing? Seriously, could we get any more antiquated? I was starting to feel like a fattened calf at a county fair. I refused to look at Locke even as I felt his gaze on me.

Fulfilling the covenant could very easily right the out of whack ley-lines. Arianna tossed a black mossy substance into the flames; it hissed and coiled in reply, dispersing a pungent, bitter scent through the room.

Is that cannabis? I squeaked.

Mugwort, Locke whispered to me before addressing Arianna. The Elders seem content to let the alignment of the three houses sort itself out. Locke directed his attention to his boots. Then, there is my face.

You answer in riddles! Just as your father piddles along pretending the prophesizing is all left to Meddlers or even to the Elders.

Maybe the Sisterhood might hold sway over the matter, Locke offered.

I had no idea what they were talking about and I didn’t really care. I was here for answers about my mother; the Order’s politics and its future had little bearing on me. I would do what I needed to do to find the bottle, then stay away from magic until I went to college in California.

Arianna turned her contorted mouth toward the flames and spit into the fire. Aye, and then the Elders will lose their positions of power and relics of wonder when the houses unite.

As will you, was Locke’s response in a mere murmur.

Arianna’s head bobbed in time with a whirling hiss of vapor rising in the room. Ones so young often see ignorance and backwards thinking in a prophecy.

Locke coughed into the smoke. I’d love to read this distinguished document.

Kept by lock and key, so mighty is its decree. Arianna’s milky eyes twinkled.

I hope one day to earn your respect. Locke’s expression was serious and he drew my attention to him with nothing more than a brush of his finger against the back of my hand. And someday her affection.

My eyes went wide. I was learning what the set of Locke’s jaw meant—he wasn’t kidding—and I think my frenzied eyes realized it, too. What did my affection have to do with any of this?

Arianna cackled, stamping her cane on the stone floor, causing more haze to filter through the room. New fangled druthers. Take her! That will capture her attention, and sway it from any others. Keep her safe and your protection will earn our respect. You will learn mutual affection with familiarity. Her voice arched against the stones, and steam hissed, reaching out from the fireplace and encircling Locke and me. Arianna spoke unfamiliar words, making the smoke cyclone, pushing me closer and closer to Locke.

What does she mean? I coughed through the smoke and struggled against the tight circle of his arms. And why are you playing along?

I’ll explain it all as soon as you take off your necklace for me. Locke put his mouth to my ear so I could hear him over the sound of the windstorm we’d been sucked into. I’m not pretending anything.

I extended a hand into the funnel of smoke—electricity sparked and danced along the baby-fine hairs on my arms. Is she putting a spell on us?

Protection spell. Locke winked.

Against what?

Locke shrugged as a curse erupted in the other room. I flinched. The woman with the burgundy hair stood from the dining room table and tossed her hair over her shoulder; it went flying about her like a dropped theater curtain as she addressed Bridgiana. Bring Keleigh and the Crone over here. We will have a short meeting before all the guests arrive.

Ilithyia’s formality made me feel like I should drop a curtsy or something. The Seer told Madi Ilithyia is the formidable one of the Sisters Three. She indicated the newspaper, poking it with her index finger, before pushing the item away as if it offended her.

Locke encouraged me to move into the room with a nod of his head, as he assisted Arianna, placing her wrinkled fist into the crook of his arm where she patted his hand in reassurance. Keleigh, this is Ilithyia, the Mother, Locke said.

Ilithyia took my hand with the same reverent attention Bridgiana had. I will see to the majority of your education. Her eyes were such a radiant green, making the room come to life in the sparkle in them. I was the Maiden Sister when Arianna was the Mother. I sat at her feet and took lessons with your own grandmother.

I examined Ilithyia’s sharp planes and smooth skin, perplexed. But you’re younger than my mother.

The Mother was a combination of the other two sisters, both active and passive, receptive of impressions, but possessing the power to bring ideas to life. While I was at Blessingston, I heard it said Ilithyia Wyrd was born at sunrise after twenty-one days of darkness, her full head of hair was as bright as a copper penny, and a pillar of fire rose from her hair on the day, thirteen summers later, when she took the veil.

One of the advantages of being one of the Sisters Three. Ilithyia winked. I can also take as many lovers as I see fit.

Bridgiana plopped down in one of the carved chairs, before dropping one of the large books, which coughed dust, drawing everyone’s attention to her. For how much longer?

For as long as I can lure them. You’re too inexperienced to become the Mother! You have at least ten more years of training.

The dining room chairs were made of gnarled branches and stood to the height of Locke’s shoulders. He pulled one out for me and sat down next to me before snatching up one of the ivory chess pieces to examine.

When I realized Locke wasn’t going to start the conversation I asked, You aren’t real sisters?

Biologically speaking, no, but we share an ancient and profound bond of the triple goddess. Ilithyia exhaled. Our bond is stronger than any bloodline.

Are you goddesses? I asked, bewildered.

We were born ExtraOrdinary just like you. Bridgiana placed a bundle of fresh lavender on the table. Through prayers, rituals, and sacrifices we were reborn with OtherWorldly divinity, the female counterpart to the Colloquy of Elders.

Arianna struck her cane on the tabletop and laughed in her singsong voice. In other words, we balance out their idiocies.

The Celts had triads for balance in all things, Locke said. The Sisters and Elders rule by majority, but each group expresses its opinion as one unified body.

What if they don’t agree? I asked.

Which happens more often of late. Ilithyia’s mouth pinched, but she still had lips for which any Hollywood starlet would pay thousands of dollars.

Arianna cackled. Then the arch-druid would settle the matter.

The most learned among us may ascend to high-druid and at any given time there may be many of them, both male and female, Bridgiana said. But there is only one arch-druid.

I was about to ask about forty different questions, but Ilithyia interrupted me. We have had a handful of female arch-druids in our history.

How does one become a Sister? I had little interest in being an arch-druid but I had plenty of other questions.

Destiny chooses them. Locke smiled. Many times, they were orphans who showed exceptional skills at birth.

Bridgiana sniggered. Sometimes we scared the pants off our parents with our capabilities and they sent us away to Blessingston.

We will explain all this during your lessons. Ilithyia gave Bridgiana a cross look before turning