“I found the manuscript next to the tree,” Deirdre said, beginning to chafe her hands together. “But then I heard a rustling in the woods. I feared for my immortal soul so I picked up the book and fled.” Deirdre looked down her nose. “Not that you would understand anything about that, being a demon yourself.”
“As you say,” Mairead agreed. “But if you were in a different world with odd things in the witch’s croft, how did you return home?”
“I went back to the faery ring in the grass, of course. I ran through it, hoping to shake off anything that had come from the forest with me, but then it occurred to me that I might be drawing them to me with the folios. I decided to return half of them to the demons in the witch’s croft to keep them at bay. I would have managed it had notthatfool been following me.”
Mairead imagined it couldn’t hurt to join her sister-in-law briefly in glaring at Kenneth. She enjoyed that for a moment then turned back to the matter at hand.
“What happened then?”
“I took the half with the rendering ofthatdemon on it,” Deirdre said, gesturing with a shaking hand toward Oliver, “and left it by the tree where I’d found it, hoping that would be enough of an offering to appease them.” She frowned. “The trees were different, true, and the witch’s croft empty of all but a stool, but I suspected that was because I had angered the demons.”
Mairead suspected it was perhaps more because Deirdre hadn’t succeeded in getting herself back to the Future where she’d first found Constance Buchanan’s book, but perhaps that didn’t need to be said.
“I rushed home and hid the second part behind the loose stone in the wall in my bedchamber,” Deirdre said, looking thoroughly unsettled. “I studied it for many months, but could make no sense of the scratches on the sheaves.”
And so was answered the question of why Deirdre had spent so much time upstairs. Mairead couldn’t fault her for wanting to learn new things, but she definitely could for making everyone’s life a misery whilst she’d been about it.
“Do you still have that second half?” she asked carefully.
“Your fool of a brother found it and threw it into the fire,” Deirdre said shortly. “And since that was the case, I needed another offering.”
Mairead realized at that moment just how badly she’d misjudged Deirdre Fergusson and her madness. “And you think I have the first half?” she asked mildly.
“I’ve seen you putting it into the tree when you weren’t keeping it secreted upon your person.”
“I don’t have it—”
“Of course you do!”
“Nay, she does not,” Kenneth said, puffing up and pulling something from inside his plaid. He held up what Mairead could readily see was the first half of her book. “I have it,” he said triumphantly, “and I will use it to prove she’s a witch!”
“Iwant to prove she’s a witch,” Deirdre shouted at him.
Mairead looked at Master James who was gnawing on the edge of his sleeve. He glanced uneasily at her, then at the other two standing there.
“I just want to burn her,” he offered. Perhaps he’d had a view of what Oliver had done to Tasgall and didn’t fancy the like happening to himself.
Mairead looked at Oliver. He sighed and shook his head, then shot her a quick smile before he turned a frown on both Deirdre and Kenneth.
“If that is a demon’s tome,” he said slowly, “then why are you two fighting over it? I should think Master James would find your having touched it to be very… unwholesome.”
Master James rushed forward, shoving Deirdre out of his way. “I could not agree more, Lord Oliver. Perhaps you would care to aid me in my testing of these two?”
“I can’t think of anything I would rather do less,” Oliver said with a polite smile.
Mairead would have complimented him on that, but she was startled by the glint of steel in Deirdre’s hand, the blade descending with terrifying swiftness—
Toward Oliver’s chest.
He caught her arm readily enough and held the blade away from himself.
“Let me go,” Deirdre shrieked. “I’ll send her to the fire, and you’ll not stop me!”
Mairead would have offered her opinion on her sister-in-law’s moral choices, but she didn’t have time before Deirdre tried to bite Oliver’s hand that was still holding onto her. The sound was particularly unpleasant, though she realized very quickly that Deirdre had encountered Oliver’s silver timepiece strapped to his arm and that those were likely a pair of teeth objecting the resistance.
Deirdre pulled back and put her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. She backed away quickly, then tripped over her husband and went sprawling, her head coming to rest with yet another unwholesome sound against a rock.
Mairead would have commented on just desserts served right properly, but before she could, Oliver had leaped over to her and pulled her behind him. She looked around his shoulder in time to see Master James there, flapping his arms as if he were a carrion bird. Or at least he did for a moment or two. His arms fell to his sides, then he listed to one side, continuing on until he’d fallen fully onto the ground.
