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“A follow-up, so a lot of the same characters, and some new ones. At the center there’s a very, very old witch who lives in a cottage in the deep woods with her cats.”
“Is she a good witch or a bad witch?”
“That’s the question, and one Finn needs to find the answer to.”
And she could do it, Breen thought as she walked back to the hotelwith Marco on an April night full of sound and movement. She could write it. All she needed was the courage to start. And time.
And her best pal was, by God, going to write a cookbook.
“I have something to ask you.”
“Tonight?” Breen lifted her face to the sky. “I’d say yes to anything. That’s how good I feel.”
“Great because Yvonne—you know, my agent?”
Breen laughed as he wagged his shoulders. “Yes, I do. I believe we met today.”
“My agent, who’s got ideas, girl, and lots of them, suggested how maybe it would be an idea if you wrote like a foreward to the cookbook.”
She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “A foreward, to your cookbook?” She bounced on her toes. “Oh boy, oh boy, now I’m going to find the fun! Yes, yes, yes! Oh, Marco, I have to say it again. Look at us!”
“We’re something to see, my Breen.”
And for the fun of it, he danced her half a block.
They checked out before dawn and rode the subway to Central Park. She’d written down the directions, but had them etched in her brain. She followed them as they rolled their suitcases, juggled shopping bags.
“Airplanes work, you know.”
“Maybe next time,” she muttered, admittedly a little spooked to walk the paths in the dark.
Then she saw it, the castle, the rocks at its base that would open and take them back to Talamh.
Sedric stepped out of the shadows.
“Dude! Shit! Heart attack time.”
“Ah now, you’re too strong for such things. There’s no one about just now, but we’ll be quick and quiet.”
“Like a cat.” Breen smiled, but it came off sheepish. “Sorry about all the bags.”
“Not a problem a’tall. Here, pass some to me, and join hands.”
He brought the light, a spark that spread and widened below the fancy of the castle.
“Quick and quiet now,” he repeated.
With Marco’s hand tight over hers, they stepped through together.
And into the sun and balmy air of Talamh.
“Marco,” she said instantly.
“Okay, not too bad. Just a little wheeee! Gonna sit right on the wall there.” He did, his back to the farmhouse. “Hey, Sedric, got you a souvenir.”
“Did you now?”
“Souvies all around. Still got some wheee going.”
