The cat made one more circle before jumping back on the table. And sitting, began to wash.
“Here now.” The woman went to a shelf holding a variety of crystals in wedges and squares and rounds. She lifted down a perfect square of deep purple amethyst.
“It’s beautiful,” Breen began when the woman held it out to her. “But I … Oh, for a candle.” Intrigued, she took it, studied the round hole in the center.
And heard the voice of the stone.
“For peace and calm of mind in these turbulent times. You’re after taking a gift back to your nan, aren’t you now?”
“Yes, and this is perfect. But I didn’t bring anything to trade.”
“No, no, you’ve come to Talamh, and in trade for that, I give you this to give to Mairghread. My man, the father of my seven, he fell at the Battle of the Black Castle.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“He stood for the light. For you, for me, our children, and all who come after. A good man, he was a good man, and I see him in our children, and theirs, and theirs. As I see your father, his mother in you. So, as they stood for the light, you will stand, and the child I’ll wrap in the blanket I made will know peace.
“Will you tell her Ninia Colconnan from the Capital sends blessings? She may remember me.”
“I will. And I’ll remember you, Mother.”
When Breen offered her hand, Ninia took it, then gripped it. Her eyes went from soft blue to deep. “Have a care, child. Look behind and beneath. Someone wishes you harm.”
“Odran and his followers.”
“Him and them, always, but on this side, and close. Have a care, for you’re precious to us. Have a care,” she said a third time. “This will fail, this time, this way, but it won’t be the end of it.”
She closed her other hand over Breen’s. “I can’t see more, but I hear the hard thoughts sent toward you, and thoughts so hard and sharp can cut as true as a blade.”
“I’ll be careful.”
With a nod, she stepped back. “You wear protection, I see,” she said to Marco. “So take this.” She walked over, chose a small white candle. “The scent comes from the blossom of the jasmine flower that blooms at night. As the pleasures of love often do. You love and are loved, and when you take those pleasures, this scent and light will … enhance. And you, do you think I’d be forgetting you?”
She gave Bollocks a pat as the cat looked on from her superior height. She chose a trio of tiny stones from little jars, then placed them on Bollocks’s collar.
“This true heart this charm protect, as this is my wish and my intent. Shield him on land and air and sea. As I will, so mote it be.”
With a faint shimmer of light, the stones fixed into the collar.
“You’ve been so kind,” Breen began.
“You’ve had trials and face more to come. This is thanks. Kindness? This costs nothing.”
Marco leaned down to kiss her cheek. “I’m awfully glad we met you, um, Mother.”
“Ah, what woman doesn’t like a kiss from a handsome young man.” She kissed his in turn. “We’ll see each other again. Now you need to be off, to make yourselves lovely for the Welcome.”
She took Breen’s hand one last time. “And have a care, Daughter.”
“She was great,” Marco said as they walked back. “A little spooky with the someone wants to hurt you bit, but great.”
“I think I know who she sensed, and it’s nothing. Hard thoughts don’t worry me.”
“Who? So I can give them the hard eye.”
“Shana. She embarrassed herself—and women everywhere—trying to get me into a fight over Keegan.”
“Oh, that.” Since she’d already told him the story, he shrugged it off as she did. “But I’m giving her the Marco Olsen Terrifying Hard Eye anyway. Nobody snipes at my girl.”
“That’ll teach her.” She gave him a body bump. “But on to more important things. Is it dumb if I changed the color on the blue dress— it’s all I’ve got—just for tonight?”
“You can do that?”
“I can. Maybe to purple or something bronzy.”
“Not dumb, but totally on. How about after we get all done up, I come over and you can try out different colors on me? And what else you should do? Hunt up Kiara, see if she’s got any sparkly pins or whatever for your hair. Just fancy it up a little.”
“She said she’d promised to do someone else’s, so wouldn’t have time. But … maybe I could hit her up for a loan, and you could help me fancy it.”
“Something sparkly,” he said again. “Or, you know, if you can’t find her, we could maybe work some flowers into the braid.”
Now she hooked an arm through his. “I’m almost, sort of, nearly looking forward to this thing tonight.”
“Almost, sort of, nearly? Come on, girl. Party in the castle! Can’t nothing be more lit than that. We had the sad and solemn last night, and man, I’m never going to forget that. We had the drama and your I’m-a-kick-ass-witch turn this morning. Now it’s party time. Welcome to the Capital, Breen Siobhan Kelly.”
“Yeah, it’s— Wait, what? You think this is about me tonight?”
“Don’t think, know. Girl, what’d you think? Besides, Brian told me for sure. Welcoming you—and I get a piece of that as the BFF of the star.”
She lost three shades of color on the spot. “Oh God, Marco, I don’t want to be the star.”
“It’s not like you have to get up and sing. Though you could. And no speeches required or anything, Brian said. I asked because I know you. You just talk to people, and there’s a big-ass feast, lots of drinking, and there’s dancing. A party, Breen.”
He laughed when Bollocks leaped off the bridge into the river. “That dog can’t pass up a puddle, much less a stream. Oh, and he gets to come, too. Toss away the nervous face, girlfriend. Everybody said tonight’s nothing but fun.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
In her room, blood boiling, mind burning, Shana set out the crystals and herbs, the oils and essences she’d taken from Loren’s cottage. From a box hidden in her wardrobe, she retrieved the strands of hair she’d taken and secreted away months before when she’d playfully insisted on brushing Keegan’s hair.
In her heart she knew she’d always planned to do this, just this, even when she’d believed Keegan would pledge to her. Because to attain all she wanted, she needed him to look at her and no other. To want her and no other.
Love her, and no other. Even his mother. How could she take Tarryn’s place as the hand of the taoiseach if he took love that should be hers and gave even drops of it to his mother?
She used a bowl of rose quartz Keegan had given her and, with that anger and ambition fueling her intention, lit a red candle.
“Red for passion and for the heart, light his love for me alone.” Her own pounded as she poured the oils into the bowl. “Oils of cinnamon and poppy cloud his mind to all save me, and to this I add the stone. A weight on his heart when we must part.”
Carefully, she tapped in powdered herbs. “Rosemary, valerian, remember and sigh till nothing I ask of him will he deny.” One by one, she added three strands of hair.
“This part of him, three, two, one, and so the spell is nearly done.” She picked up a small knife, ran a shallow slice across the heart line of her left palm. “Now add my heart blood and my tears …”
She let the blood drip into the bowl and, as she’d had the talent since childhood, willed tears to her eyes. Leaning over, she let them fall into the mix. “So when he drinks, he drinks of me, and his love is mine for all my years.
“Stir and seal and bubble and blend.” Circling the candle over the bowl, she watched three drops of red wax slide in, and with it, the mix simmered and smoked. “And so his love will never end. When this potion he drinks, his heart with mine links. It will forever belong to me. As I will, so mote it be.”