The Earl's Childe (23 page)

Someone's intention had to be true for the spell to work. And the spell on Heather's younger brother is powerful. Even were I not bridled, I could not touch him
.

“Curious.” A frown deepened Mum's voice and drew her eyes narrow.

“What—” I started to ask.

“If Heather leads you around the perimeter of the salt barriers—at least around the stables and paths—are you able to walk her within sight of the castle, stand guard until she is safely inside, and return to this stable and corral immediately and directly?”

If I am so ordered, aye
.

“Good. And since you know the red caps and other Unseelie are near, you will not be offended if I insist she arm herself while I'm not with her.” It wasn't a question.

I understand you wish nothing but her protection. I am not offended
.

“Would the iron blade harm the part-kelpie if your proximity enrages it or something?” There was an unspoken question that I also got: “Or if you acted up in proximity to the other part-kelpie?”

Ermie stepped back, and I sensed he truly didn't like Mum's question. And that he figured the same as I did.
Any blade harms. I doubt the iron will have the same effect as it would upon my body, but I also doubt it would have no effect
.

Mum nodded, then added, “If anything harms Heather while you are with her, you'll find out exactly the extent of iron's effect upon your body. Are we clear?”

He snorted angrily.
Abundantly
.

Softening her gaze and stance, she added, “I don't wish to offend, but you have made it clear you are unhappy with us wishing you were less murderous. Do you understand?”

Another snort answered this question with a surge of unworded emotions. He understood, yes, and he wasn't exactly sure how he felt about everything all together.

“I will ask your permission for this.” Mum pulled her phone out. “A friend of mine in New York sent me a Bell Spell, or that's what she calls it. She put it on her shop so she can hear a bell ring wherever she is if someone comes through the doors. If I cast it around the perimeter of your stable and corral, we'll know if anyone comes near you. I don't think you want us to line salt around you, so this might be a better option. Do I have your permission to do that to your area?”

It seemed that Ermie took his time considering that before replying.
Aye. I grant you permission to cast such a spell
.

“Good.” Mum scrolled and tapped at her phone, opening an email. Then she pulled from her jacket pocket a small clay bowl, a pack of matches, and a few plastic bags of what looked like dried herbs and stones. “I'll explain what I'm doing so you both know, too.”

I nodded, looking at Ermie out of the corner of my eye. He was trying very hard to not look like he was watching or caring.

Mum put some small black stones, which stained her fingers, into the little bowl. “Charcoal. Smaller pieces light better. The big chunks are a pain. Anyway,” she struck a match, “this is a very simple spell. I've already mixed the herbs, and I'll share the list with you later, Heather. There are several that are frequently used in psychic and communication spells. The sound of the bell will be in our heads, all three of us. For that effect, Kay told me to use bellflower, which happens to be in bloom now.” From her back pocket, Mum pulled out a napkin-wrapped bouquet of the purple and blue flowers that grew on the embankment below the garden wall. I guess all this prep was what she'd been doing when she'd left dinner early. The thought made me think of Joe, who was always prepared. When we'd been making our plan on capturing the kelpie, he'd covered just about every detail, from weapons to bait to even having an extra torch.

We all grew silent as Mum squatted over the bowl, sprinkled on the herbs, and placed one of the plucked flowers on top. I wrinkled my nose as the fresh flowers wilted. They smelled… well, not as nice as I imagined burning flowers smelling, but not as bad as when Lily left her curling iron on her hair too long. Picking up and settling the bowl on a thick towel in her hand, she brought it over to us. Mum fanned the wisps of smoke. “None shall pass this threshold without our knowledge. Any passage shall be as clear as a pure bell ringing within our minds.”

Ermie wrinkled his nose, but didn't back away or sneeze on the smoldering pot. Mum walked out of the stable, and we followed. She started walking anticlockwise around the barn, which she said was also for protection. However, when we got to the back half of the kelpie's pen, the ground was sodden and wet from the little pond he'd made on this side—worse, probably from the earlier rainstorm. Mum had to quickly step back to keep from sinking a good inch or two.

Shall I carry you?
Ermie asked.

“Yes, that would be good of you,” Mum said.

Once we were all situated on Ermie's back, Mum told him to walk slowly as she fanned the smoke and added fresh flowers to the charcoal. She kept repeating her “None shall pass…” words. It didn't rhyme or anything, like the other spells I'd heard or seen, but I could
feel
it like the other spells, like the gentle hum of static electricity against my skin or that quiet in church after a hymn is done. Even in my nose, when I breathed, I felt that sensation. It didn't scare me though; it was comforting.

Upon reaching the front entrance of the small stable again, we dismounted, and Mum left the little pot at the entrance of the barn, still smoking, and had us collect our blades. Looking at Ermie, she stated in her no-argument tone, “I'm heading inside now. If we have visitors, I'll be out immediately. Also, Heather is armed and she has her phone. If
anything
happens to her…”

I understand the consequences
. He wrinkled his nose, showing his teeth, even though he kept his head at his shoulders in submission. To just me, I “heard” him add,
Not that I
would
let any harm come upon you. I do not know what that might do to me. It might be far worse than your wee iron blades
.

And here I thought we were becoming friends
, I mentally shot back.

Before our conversation could continue, Mum added over her shoulder, “And…as Michael and Jack did salt around the big barn, it would make sense if you checked that, too.” With one more nod, Mum left the stable, taking her iron blade with her.

Ermie shot his head up and stared at my mother. He didn't say anything, and while I could sense he was feeling a number of emotions, I also sensed he did not want me to know what he was thinking.

So I did my best to pull my mind away from his. Because friends respect privacy.

And as annoying as he was, part of me, I realized, really did want us to be friends.

It wasn't a far walk from Ermie's stable to where my dad and Mr. McInnis had laid down the salt. I didn't see it right away, but Ehrwnmyr nearly yanked my arm out of my shoulder as he stopped short of it, backing up.

That will work
.

“So, why does the salt line work on you when magick isn't supposed to? And Mum's bell spell thing?”

I gave her permission and willingly submitted to her spell. The barrier is not a spell cast upon me. Its effect is on the area
. He paused.
If I really wanted, I could cross it. But it would be extremely uncomfortable. For others, it would result in pain, illness, or worse, depending upon their intent
.

I nodded, grimacing.

Those who would breach this would hurt or kill anyone on this property, yet you are uncomfortable with them getting hurt to prevent this? Really, you are precious
.

I glared at him. “Stop calling me that! Unless you
mean
to say I'm, like, some…rare treasure.” I tossed my waist-length braids the way he tossed his mane. I was rather proud of them, and really, that little bit of vanity wasn't a fraction of his.

Ermie cocked his head and regarded me as we started to follow the perimeter of the salt line.
You are. To your family and loved ones. That is why they are going to such lengths to protect you
. He nodded his head at the salt.
This will, indeed, keep out the red caps, and they are as stubborn as they are pernicious. It is only to me that your sympathy and pacifism hasn't value as a treasure
.

“I doubt it has much value to Calbraith and the red caps.”

On the contrary. It has much. If only for the purpose of using it to torture you and get you to do as they want, for the sake of preventing pain and violence to the ones you love, even the ones you don't exactly love. The more you wish to prevent others'pain, the more they will use it to force your hand. Or…to entertain them
.

“Thanks for
that
set of perfect nightmares.” I shivered in the damp air, despite the sun.

Would you rather I give you an unrealistic portrayal of the situation and leave you unprepared?

“I wish. But, realistically, no.”

I knew you had some wisdom within you
.

I rolled my eyes, even though I had a sense this was another somewhat-compliment, which was definitely better than his usual insults. We followed the barrier around the shire stable. The mares danced nervously as Oppie made a show of running at the fence, ready to kick it down. Ermie had nearly killed him when they'd last met.

I stopped us. “Any chance you can tell without getting any closer? I don't want them breaking out.”

Ermie tossed his head and took a step towards the Shire stable. I could sense him looking down his nose at Oppie, half-ready to put the Shire stallion in his place.

I lightly smacked his shoulder with the loose end of the lead rope. “Focus! Salt line. Working or not?”

He snorted at me.
I cannot tell at this distance. But, to elaborate on my theory, if nothing else, your father is thorough. Likely to a fault, I'd not be surprised. If you would rather me not agitate your poor, mortal beast, we should be able to move on without much concern
. The kelpie lazily turned around, tail up, neck arched, chest puffed, and sauntered away from the Shire horses.

“Really?” I muttered, elbowing his hip, which made him snicker out loud and in my head. “And you're not supposed to be leading me!”

He paused, midstep, one front hoof off the ground, and watched me move around him out of the corner of his eye.
I cannot leave your side without your permission, and your mother made it quite clear I could not abandon you to harm. You needn't the rope
.

“We need to practice you at least trying to act like a horse if we're ever going to be around other people.”

Your mother mentioned nothing like that
. His tone was teasing.

“No. But if we do, you know, start to get along, and you actually want to do stuff with me, we'll have to keep it hidden that you're a kelpie.” It was my turn to regard him sidelong as he chewed on that bit of information.

Since we couldn't get closer to the Shire stable, we had to backtrack to go around the salt to make it to the big barn. We didn't say anything during the walk, but it was, surprisingly, a comfortable silence. As we approached the main stable, though, I knew we were in trouble. People were out there. Wasn't everyone supposed to be inside? Crap!

“Heather!” It was Max's voice. He started to jog over. Behind him, I recognized Coach David.

Crap!
I shouted in my head to Ermie so hard, he stepped away from me. A million issues buzzed in my head. The first one that formed itself into a mind-spoken sentence was,
Make yourself look like a normal horse and…not a stallion
.

I could tell he got the gist of what I meant by “not a stallion” as his response in my head made me think of those comic book lightning clouds of “#$%!”

We're not allowed stallions at camp. If the coach sees you…intact, there will be a huge issue of you going near the other horses, and if I say Mum said I could, it looks like I'm getting special treatment for being her kid
.

There were a few more unworded, rebellious cuss sentiments as he tossed his head. I saw the vaguest shimmer of his glamour and sensed his submission to my command, even though he felt it foolish and somewhat offensive to his “stallion-hood.” “Is that the new horse you were talking about?” Max asked me, smiling as he started walking beside me. “He is beautiful. And he does look a lot like Stormy.”

Stupid horse name
.

Ignoring my irritated kelpie, who took a long sniff in the direction of Max, I continued towards the main stable. While my family's herd all shared a run-in, most of the horses each had individual stalls that opened into their own turnouts to avoid fights between horses who didn't know each other. The few who we knew got along or who had arrived together also got to share a turnout area. Mum, Ginny, and Mickey work together to do a lot of planning before the camp even happens. As Coach David approached me, I knew I had bigger problems.