“I don’t feel comfortable being called a savior,” I said, gazing upon the ancient hawthorn.
“A reluctant heroine,” Aileen quipped. “Those are the best kind, you know.”
Chapter 21
Staring out my bedroom window, I was surprised to see Derrydun didn’t look any different.
After yesterday’s commotion, I was sure there would be smoke on the horizon, but the view was the same as it had always been. Green, misty, and vibrant despite the gloomy sky.
Stepping into my boots, I donned my jacket and pulled out the beanie and gloves Boone had given me at Christmas. I had a lot to do today, and even though we’d won the war, it didn’t mean Mother Nature had turned up the heat.
On the way out, I checked in on our houseguest.
Mairead’s painting of Derrydun was propped up against the wall in the living room, surrounded by crystals and a bowl with a stick of sage before it. The room reeked, which meant Aileen had been in here obsessively cleansing. I didn’t blame her. I would probably be doing the same if she wasn’t here.
As if it sensed my presence, the painting shuddered then lay still. Still as mad as a bee in a jar, I see. I thought about shaking it but turned around and went outside.
My return to the ancient hawthorn was a great deal calmer than it had been last night. When I stepped off the path and into the clearing, I was startled to see the state of the furniture or so to speak.
Bark and branches were strewn everywhere, and the trees around the edges looked rather sad. We’d really done a number on this place, but it wouldn’t be a battlefield without a few scars. There were still a few snakes lurking around the village, but thankfully, they’d lost their spark and dropped dead once Carman was sucked into the painting. Mary Donnelly was currently spearheading a working bee back on the main road to round the stragglers up.
“It was quite the scene,” Siobhan said. “Human and witch together.”
“Don’t forget the equine and canine.”
Siobhan stood beside me, a little transparent around the edges. I wasn’t surprised to find she resembled Carman but the spitting image? That was a new one. When she’d called her sister, I imagined a few years difference between the pair, not a few minutes. She was Carman’s identical twin. That was another story for another day, it seemed.
“So, that’s what you look like,” I mused. “Two halves of a whole. I get what you meant now.”
“Disappointed?” She laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
As she turned, she aged before my eyes. Where Carman had done everything in her power to say young, Siobhan had remained in Derrydun and allowed nature to do what it willed.
I shook my head. “Not at all. You were with me this whole time… I just wondered.”
“I’m sorry that you had to face my sister,” Siobhan said. “I wish things could’ve gone differently. For you and her sons.”
I turned toward the hawthorn and gazed up at her branches. The berries were starting to fall.
“Boone…” I began with a sigh. “I assume he has his father’s heart, unlike his brothers. I never sensed anything but kindness in him.”
“Finn was kind, as is Dain, that is true. Carman was always quick to anger, and I hoped his love would teach her a different way. Bein’ the best never seemed to be enough for her. When he died, any light she had in her heart faded. Unfortunately, it never returned.”
“The world or bust,” I mused. “Power corrupts…”
Siobhan nodded. “Sometimes.”
I glanced at her, wondering what she meant.
“I can’t think of a better witch to lead the Crescents into the future,” she continued. “Skye Williams, you have our blessin’.”
“Wow. The ancestors are blessing me with their magical juju?” I laughed and shook my head. “Took them long enough.”
“Be careful,” Siobhan said with a chuckle. “Your ‘sass,’ as you call it, might get you into trouble.”
My laugh echoed around the clearing. “Oh, man, it feels good to be alive today.”
“And so, I must leave you to enjoy it.”
“It’s over now,” I murmured. “All is as it should be.”
“Thank you, Skye.” Her ghostly hand brushed against my cheek. “You had the courage to do what I could not.”
A cool breeze fluttered against my skin, and when I turned, Siobhan was gone.
**
Father O’Donegal was sweeping out his church when I emerged from the forest.
All the doors were open, and he was manning a straw broom, his blazer draped over the back of a pew, and his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A tan streak roared past the pulpit as his tabby cat pounced and played with a severed snake tail.
“Ah, Skye,” he said when he saw me. “Good mornin’ to ye.”
“Good morning, Father. The snakes didn’t make too much mess, I hope.”
“They certainly didn’t mind slitherin’ into the house of God,” he muttered, swiping the broom at a little green critter.
I chuckled and turned toward the church grounds.
“Thank you,” he said behind me. “You showed real courage yesterday.”
Glancing back, I smiled.
“He’s in the cemetery,” he added after a moment.
“Thanks.”
My boots crunched on gravel as I rounded the side of the church, the mossy lichen covered Celtic crosses and headstones standing tall in the yard. They all bore familiar family names like McKinnon, Donnelly, McKinney, and Byrne. I wondered how many were Crescents and where Siobhan’s resting place might be. Likely someplace deep in the forest.
When I stepped around the rear of St. Brigid’s, I saw him immediately. Even if my eyes were closed, I would’ve found Boone. Now his Legacy had been revealed, it was almost as familiar to me as mine. He was part of the Crescent Coven, after all. Man, my boyfriend was a thousand years old, give or take. He really was a silver fox!
He was sitting on the end of Aileen’s empty grave, overlooking two fresh mounds. His brothers. A shovel was propped up against a neighboring headstone, and I
