An Immortal Descent

A sudden heat swelled in my chest. With renewed vigor, I jumped up, anxious to make haste for Wexford. “We should go.”

 

 

Sighing, Ailish tucked her feet beneath her and stood. “I want to be in Ballyhack by nightfall.” She reached for the burlap sack. “I’ll rest easier once we’ve a river—” The air caught in her throat. “Bless me soul,” she breathed. “What happened here?”

 

Where her hand hovered above the ground, I spied four dark gray outlines nestled into the grass, approximately an inch thick and the precise shape of boot prints. Placed in pairs, the sharply rounded toes faced each other as though two ghosts were engaged in a standoff.

 

I swallowed hard. How did those get there? And why hadn’t we noticed them before? “What are they?”

 

Ailish knelt in the grass and ran a finger over one of the prints. “It can’t be,” she said a moment later.

 

“What can’t be?” Gooseflesh crept over the backs of my arms. “Tell me what it is, Ailish.”

 

She traced around another outline. “They be stones.”

 

Well, that made no sense whatsoever. I dropped to my knees beside her and peered down at the prints. “Are you sure?”

 

She knocked on one, making a series of low-pitched thuds. “They belong to us.”

 

I frowned, the evidence undeniable. “How did it happen?”

 

“The grass turned where we be standing.” Ailish pried one from the ground, leaving behind a small patch of dirt.

 

“But that’s impossible.”

 

“See for yourself.” She passed one to me, practically forcing one in my hand when I hesitated. “Don’t be afraid.”

 

The stone weighed heavy in my palm, and I stared at it, uncertain what to expect. When it didn’t immediately bite or burst into flames, I turned it over, confirming that it was indeed the shape of my left sole. “It’s from mixing our power, isn’t it.”

 

Ailish had pried another stone from the ground and did a similar inspection, even holding it to the bottom of her foot. “That be me guess. The fight between Brigid’s life and Cailleach’s death changed the grass to the barest o’ living forms.” She knocked on it again.

 

It made perfect sense, except for one small detail. “Rocks aren’t alive, Ailish.”

 

She gave me an odd look. “Everything has life in this world. Some things just have more than others. Didn’t your mam teach you about that?”

 

“No, she didn’t. Because it’s utter nonsense.”

 

“Maybe where you come from, but here in Ireland plenty o’ folks be knowing the truth.” She replaced the boot print to its original spot, pressing it into the dirt. “Me mam learned it from her mam, and she learned it from her mam, all the way back to when the Tuatha Dé still lived in the human world.”

 

“I guess we were raised with different ideas.” Returning my rock to its place, I started to stand. “We should be—”

 

Ailish grabbed a handful of my skirts and yanked me to the ground where my knees collided with the grass.

 

Seeing her sprawled on her belly, I did the same, peeping over my hands in the direction of the road.

 

“Do you hear that?” she whispered, so softly I had to lean closer to catch the words. “Someone be coming this way.”

 

“Do you think it’s Calhoun?”

 

“Could be. We’ll soon find out.” She squinted, though in truth I didn’t know what she could see through the fog.

 

A few seconds passed before I could make out the definitive sound of horse hooves. By then, Ailish scrambled to her feet and started to brush the mud and grass from her skirts.

 

“Get down,” I hissed.

 

She retrieved the burlap sack. “Don’t worry. It’s not Calhoun.”

 

“How do you know?” I asked, remaining firmly on my belly.

 

“A single horse be pulling a cart. Get up, Selah. Could be a nice farmer willing to give us a ride to the next village.” She tossed the sack over one shoulder and started toward the road.

 

Hearing only confidence in her voice, I stood and grabbed the saddlebags, grunting at the weight. “What if he’s not nice?”

 

A branch rustled not far from the sapling oaks to our rear. Ailish stopped without warning, and I collided into her as she jerked her head around to peer over my shoulder.

 

I followed her gaze, when something small burst from the underbrush. I gasped, every nerve jumping at once as the creature ran straight toward us. At the last moment, brown wings appeared, and it took flight, frantically beating at the air.

 

It disappeared at the same time my mind finally caught up. I released a shaky breath. “It’s only a quail.”

 

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