Except for my sanity. Which must have already been slipping as I found myself seriously considering the idea. At the moment I could think of nothing worse than touching her, and the thought alone was enough to send a shiver to my toes. But what if she was right and it really worked? What if we could both be healed of our wounds?
Mist clung to my lashes, much like the indecision that dampened my brain, and I soon found myself wondering what Henry would do. He was no coward, but neither was he stupid. Pressing my eyes closed, I recalled his last words to me at the theater. Take care, Selah. Did that include entrusting my life to the likes of Ailish O’Bearra? Probably not unless there was no other choice.
You get what you give.
“You’re thinking awful hard.”
My eyelids cracked open. “How do I know you’re not trying to trick me?”
Ailish settled back on her heels. “Because there be no cause for it.”
I studied her face beneath the mask of bruising. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen years, though a quiet wisdom seemed to fill those hazel eyes. And try as I might, I saw no sign of guile or malicious intent. But nothing would ever change the fact that she was Cailleach’s descendant, and therefore my enemy.
Sniffing, I considered the options. The illness and burn on my neck were worsening in equal measures. Much longer, and I could be incapacitated, and incapable of making the journey to Wexford. Worse yet, I would be left a sitting duck for Calhoun to track down and recapture.
Well, that was never going to happen. I would rather burst into a million ice crystals than fall prey to that man again. And without a doubt, I knew Henry would do whatever it took for Nora’s sake. And for mine.
“All right. I’ll give it a try. But if you send us to the Otherworld, I swear I’ll turn your skin green the moment we return.”
Ailish tilted her head to the side. “Can you do that?” she asked, more interested than concerned.
“Quicker than you can blink,” I lied. Then again, if my power misfired, there was no telling the outcome. For all I knew, we could both be turned to pigeons in the next minute or two.
Surely Cate could fix me if that were to happen.
“You’d be making yourself green as well. Folks would take us for a pair o’ leprechauns tromping through the countryside together.”
“Just until we reached Wexford and I got turned back. Then only one of us would be mistaken for something other than human.” My tone carried a blatant threat.
A smile stretched her otherwise small mouth. “A wicked lass you be, Selah Kilbrid. But you’ve nothing to fear from me. Just so, I’ll tuck Cailleach’s power far away to keep from interfering with Brigid’s.” The smile slipped and she widened her stance as though preparing for a blow. “Are you ready to start then?”
“In the middle of the road? Don’t you think we should move aside in case there’s a...” I grappled for the right word. Disaster? Catastrophe? Heinous malformations? “A mishap?”
“You be right. Calhoun would find us for certain if’n we lose our senses out in the open.” She headed straight to the woods.
I followed behind, my eyes swiveling every which way in an attempt to simultaneously search out trouble and to keep from tripping over gnarled tree roots and lowlying vegetation.
We arrived at a small grassy clearing, surrounded by sapling oaks. Ailish did a quick survey of the area, then squinted toward the road, I assumed to gauge our visibility. “This should do.” She dropped the burlap sack and resumed the same stance from before. “Let’s get this done.”
The saddlebags landed in the grass with a dull thud next to the sack. Relieved of the bulky weight, I stretched the kinks from my arms and fingers. Unfortunately, I couldn’t do the same for the dread that swirled in my chest from the inevitable icy pain.
“You realize this is going to hurt?” I asked.
Her chin jutted forward. “Like being burned at the stake,” she said, temporarily disturbing my image of ice. “Be quick about it, will you, afore I lose me nerve.” Her voice trembled, and she scrunched her eyes closed until her lashes all but disappeared.
I took a deep breath to calm my own nerves. Then, pushing aside my fear, I willed a fire to life deep inside me. Flames flared bright, their familiar warmth racing the well-worn path to my fingertips. As Ailish did on the ship, I reached a hand toward her neck, no less pleased than if I were about to plunge naked into the Arctic Sea.
One of her eyes cracked open. “Don’t touch me skin,” she said before closing the lid again.
Sage advice if we wanted to avoid additional burns. I veered to her shoulder instead, my fingers hovering over the slight protrusion that rounded beneath several layers of wool. Gritting my teeth, I lowered my hand, a full stream of power at the ready.
Ice instantly bit into my fingers and palm. Ailish hissed through her teeth, and the cold grew stronger, pushed into my hand and up my arm.
“Stop fighting me,” I gritted out.