Saoirse took the pill in a shaky hand as she admired her granddaughter. “I love you, you know.”
“I do,” Saga answered. “And I love you too. Please take it.”
“I didn’t keep it from you to keep you out of this world.” She placed the aspirin in the side of her mouth and chewed it carefully. “We want you to be a part of it.”
“I know.” She didn’t, but she would have said anything to keep her grandmother awake and calm.
“I just didn’t want to lose you…” Her eyes were fluttering to stay open.
“You’re not going to lose me.” Saga took one of her hands in both of her own. “Please stay with me.”
“Riddle will keep an eye on you for me.”
“No,” Saga said firmly. “No, you’re going to keep an eye on me.” She watched her grandmother’s face relax, lids closing. “Mamó? Mamó!”
Was she breathing? She didn’t look like she was breathing.
Riddle was still yowling, but he sounded so far away now.
Saga quickly assessed her grandmother. She was lying on her back, her form straight. She carefully opened the airway before she began chest compressions for CPR.
Something felt wrong. Sickly wrong.
She managed one set of compressions before her head began to swim. She moved to give Saoirse breath, but the air within her own lungs felt cold—everythingaround her felt cold, as if everything had frosted over. The world went dark, or perhaps she couldn’t keep her own eyes open. Her chest hurt, she was spinning, and nausea gripped her as cold sweat broke out along her neck and forehead.
She had the faintest sensation that she needed to stay awake. That she could not let her eyes shut, regardless of whether she could see. She fell back and choked, the cold air burning her lungs as her chest tightened. She had to fight it, she knew she did, but she didn’t know how. She clawed at her neck, certain that she would find a hand there, pressing, but there was nothing.
And then there wasnothing.
25Gaeilge: May the devil prepare a fire for you, Hemlock.
26Gaeilge: My darling girl, child.
27Gaeilge: What is wrong with you?
Chapter 9
Avery
Avery hadn’t quite known what to do at the sound of the sirens at first. She was startled from her sleep, having managed to drift off only a few hours prior. She jolted out of bed, reaching for the cane sword that was nestled under her pillow. Bleary-eyed, but not without speed, she drew it on nothing, holding it on guard for a few sleepy seconds. Her arm went slack as she realized that she was alone, and after a few hard blinks, she sheathed the rapier blade.
Her silvery-white curls sticking out at all angles, she shambled her way to the window, half leaning on the cane as she did. She peered out and saw a bright yellow vehicle, rimmed with a strange green checkerboard pattern. She pressed her face against the cold glass, peering through the dreary gray weather to catch sight of the writing. She had to squint through the haze and raindrops before she made out the word AMBULANCE.
Someone must have been hurt.
With curiosity as both her greatest ally and antagonist, she got dressed. Her hair was still a bit of a mess, even after running her fingers through it several times, and her shirt was off by one button. She pulled on her boots and struggled with her coat, her arm catching in the sleeve. She flailed and fell against the wall before wiggling it through.
